#mac tailor

[t00nified]

Dale brings over Chip after they both meet up for a mission and Mac isn't too happy about it Despite Mac and Dale not getting along well at first, he's not too pleased with how Chip has treated Dale

[popfizzles]

📂 For smith mayhaps

I've mentioned it a few times before, but never said it outright; Smith knows how to sew.

Not well enough to make anything new or to make professional adjustments.. but Smith put the patches on Mac's clothes, fixed Goldie's stuffed animals, and pulled in hand-me-downs for either of them.

Smith pricks his fingers often. 😔

[o-uncle-newt]

(Ramble on why I think so below the cut- warning for strong opinions lol:)

I love The Nine Tailors (though it took time to make me love it, I won't lie- I tend to zone out during the change-ringing description bits). But I do not love Hilary Thorpe, I think the parts of the book with her in them are tonally out of place, and I think that the reason why this is true is because she's Sayers's most indulgent/unrepentant expy. I think it's true both on a purely book level, but also in terms of Sayers's actual biography.

First I'll note on a purely book level- Harriet might literally have Wimsey fall in love with her, but she has to go through a lot and change a lot to actually get with him. (Not to change for him, but just to grow somewhat as a person.) Miss Meteyard is probably the most "neutral" major Sayers expy, and possibly the one most true to life, but it's an important element of her place in the story that she doesn't get Wimsey at the end. Hilary though... it's basically a Daddy Long Legs without the creepy bit at the end where he marries her. Yes, her story in the book starts with tragedy, but she literally gets left two fortunes and has the admiration and patronage of a lord, and it's not subtly portrayed. It feels like it was painted in with a very broad and bold brush, unlike so much of the rest of the book which is very subtle in its human emotions and relationships.

She has that element to her which is probably the most indulgent thing for a certain kind of person, who my guess is includes a lot of the people who read Sayers (I'm certainly one of them)- she's a precocious teen and an adult- not just any adult, but a titled and brilliant one- recognizes her precocity and upcoming greatness (even without a whole lot of evidence) and celebrates her for them. There's a common trope in middle grade books of kids who are really talented or precocious in some way and make an impact in the adult world- think Roald Dahl or Andrew Clements, off the top of my head- and another genre, for young women a bit older, where it's specifically that that attention is quasi- (or actually!) romantic but in an unthreatening way that emphasizes both the character's precocity despite her youth and the fact that it's an adult who is older and has made their (usually his) way in the world who recognizes it. Let's say more of a Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm than a Daddy Long Legs, then.

To be clear- there is nothing inherently wrong with this kind of plot! Like I said, I loved that kind of thing when I was a kid, and to be honest I like it as an adult too. But usually, these books require the child/young woman in question to have internal development as part of the journey and part of the world building of what makes the character both sympathetic and precocious. The Nine Tailors doesn't really do that- Hilary has to live with great tragedy at the start of the book, but her own development as a person, and honestly our knowledge of her as a person, is relatively limited. She basically is how she is and Wimsey is (semi-paternally) into that because the way she is-precocious and somewhat aloof- is obviously awesome and she also ends up with a gazillion dollars and the emeralds. In terms of how Wimsey reacts to her, she's like mini-Harriet- but Harriet has to work for it somewhat. Not for Wimsey's affection for her, but for the richness of character that makes us care about Wimsey's affection for her.

So anyway, doesn't really work for me, and feels very out of place and garish in an otherwise intricately-painted book IMO. But also, I think it becomes even more blatant when you read about Cat O'Mary and Sayers's unfinished memoir.

So basically, sometime in the early 30s Sayers started writing a memoir, which she called My Edwardian Childhood. The funny part is she never made it to the actual Edwardian period- it only took her to about age five, when Victoria was still on the throne- but (though I've never read it- I do want to get my hands on it) it ends up being an account of her early years in Oxford and then the move to the fens, which she saw in retrospect as cutting her off from intelligent society in a way which stunted her. Having made it up to that move to East Anglia, she got so into the overall vibe of the location that she decided to put the memoir aside and work on a labor of love dedicated to this atmosphere of her upbringing- The Nine Tailors.

So, basically, Sayers got the idea for this book while doing some deep musings about her own childhood in that area, and while she was starting to critically think about what she was like as a child. We know that Sayers used real names of people from her childhood for the character names in The Nine Tailors, and it's said that Venables is based on her father. Why would it be a surprise that Hilary Thorpe might be based on her?

Once Sayers was done with The Nine Tailors, she started a totally different book- a semi-autobiographical novel, unrelated to the Wimsey novels, called Cat O'Mary. The main character, based on herself, was named Katherine rather than Dorothy, but her letters as well as biographical details match up enough for us to know that the account of her childhood is VERY aligned with what it was actually like for her. And, in fact, she goes into a lot of detail about what she was like- but with a much more critical eye on herself than she had in her memoir. She talks about having "developed all the faults and peculiarities of an only child whose entire life is spent among grown-up people. She was self-absorbed, egotistical, timid, priggish and, in a mild sort of way, disobedient." And honestly, even when you read a biography of her, or her collected letters from her childhood, that is something of the image of her as a young, precocious, coddled child that one gets (she was the only daughter of a minister who grew up very insulated and as the center of attention, playing only with children "imported" for her, more or less). Sayers never finished Cat O'Mary, and it's not 100% clear why- but it's hypothesized that it's because the overall point of the book in her mind was to convey the message that, by then, she'd already decided to include in Gaudy Night (through the eyes of another expy lol).

I feel a bit as though Hilary Thorpe is Sayers as she'd have written of herself in that more idealized memoir of hers- with perhaps a tad more wish fulfilment than she'd have given herself in that, but then again isn't that was Wimsey is for? And I wonder whether it's only after writing this ideal and beloved version of herself as a child, with the nostalgia that came from writing about the place she grew up in and in the frame of mind that led to her memoir, that she buckled down to actually engage with what that kind of precocious child who she was might have actually been like, how she really was/would have been accepted by adults, etc. With all the real life parallels between Hilary's personality and Sayers's, and the contrast between the somewhat twee idealization of Hilary and the more acerbic (and AFAIK more accurate to Sayers IRL, who was by many accounts a tough cookie, including from people who said it positively) portrayal of Katherine, it can be hard for me to really enjoy Hilary without a healthy dose of eye-rolling.

But like, the rest of the book is awesome so who cares?

[the-soupgoblin]

Sewing is a curse and a nightmare how the FUCK do people do this

[elalmadelmar]

"You know, I wonder why people don't do something that I as a layperson think should be really obvious and straightforward."

Pretty much any time general-you find yourself asking this question, the answer is going to be that what looks obvious and straightforward to you is in fact incredibly complicated and tricky in ways that aren't evident from a casual glance.

I don't mean to call you out, brainward, because this stuff really isn't obvious if you don't have the context, but transliteration between languages, especially languages that have developed along very separate evolutionary lines, is a deeply, intensely complex process -- and then it gets even more complicated when the transliterated word is then loaned into other languages altogether, as is the case with 'axolotl' here!

Writing systems are very customized to the phonetics of the spoken languages they were developed to convey, and when you try to render a completely different phonetic landscape in them, it's gonna get weird. Add into that the gradual evolution of spoken language over time, regional variations in phonetics, etc -- the correlation of the sounds we make with our mouths and the characters we put down on a page is a very complex business, and one that isn't static. Thus, the process of trying to convey phenomes that the writing system doesn't natively support gets even harder, because the places you've had to essentially kitbash the writing system to come up with the sorta-right set of characters to convey a sound quickly become less and less intuitive to people who don't already know the sounds.

I am literally fucking BEGGING people to stop saying "ax oh lot uhl." That is absolutely the WRONG way to pronounce that word.

I know the song about the axolotl on the stairs is very cute, but it is teaching kids how to pronounce a Nahuatl word VERY VERY WRONG. Can we all please spend like 30 seconds watching this very nice person show y'all how to say it right? Please?

(Yeah, I used to say it wrong too, and then a friend was kind enough to correct me on the way the word is pronounced in their ancestral language and so now every time I hear it wrong it's like nails on a chalkboard & makes me embarrassed.)

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, mainly!! praise and pet names, one instance of false praise, [ the following happens inside a crowded room of ppl and possiblyy in front of reader’s husband: groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping, one neck bite, san cums untouched, ] ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, oral (giving/receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover + peaches + nothing on me by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of figurative autofellatio the beautiful people around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a year’s worth of rent. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands, to various vague acquaintances doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms. All of that chaos saught to entice you, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, instead focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink any more, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who all simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, his cheeks flushed red, haphazardly holding onto a half-empty champagne flute, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

Just about spilling the rest of his bubbly onto his lap, San gulped, slowly spreading his thighs open wider and patting one of them, giving you a silent invitation to take things further.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

San’s throat went dry. He must’ve done something truly benevolent in a past life to deserve this. “Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

���On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

His cock now directly near your face, San smiled devilishly down at you, his dimples appearing. He lazily ran a closed hand along his curved, dripping length. “And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you? Because Mommy’s a good little slut, huh?”

“What do you think?” you mused, just before running your tongue along the underside of San’s heavy cock up to the salty tip, a pleased chuckle vibrating from your throat.

“Yeah, get it wet for me…” he mumbled absentmindedly, pushing his fingers through your hair to move it out of the way. San pressed his thighs tightly against the side of the bed, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

Just when San began getting worked up, you pulled yourself off of him and sat up to rid yourself of your useless, disheveled dress. Hearing a distinct groan of approval, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, you come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you…” San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you. “In fact, I’ll make sure you never forget, baby.”

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[ahqkas]

hey goergous!! I've been BINGING your writing on the batboys and I absolutely love them!! Is there a chance you can do Costco runs with the batboys? Weird idea but I was just at Costco and was thinking about it hahaha!! Thank you!!! ❤️🦇

♯HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU ( the batboys accompanying you to costco ! )

— gn!reader, bruce & dick & jason ( separated ), i had to google what costco is so i hope i got it right !! fluff, this is so short i’m sorry 😣

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

THE MERE IDEA OF BRUCE WAYNE IN SUCH A SHOP WAS AS SURREAL AS ENDEARING. it happened during a simple saturday morning, still when many people were busy sleeping in, when you got to the task at your hand: grocery shopping.

you glanced over at your company, noting how his well tailored black sweater and dark jeans contrasted with the whole place and its contents. his classy clothing looked so out of place among the sea of puffy jackets, hoodies, and sneakers. yet, as always, he didn’t seem to mind. he almost looked comfortable ( if you could call the expression on his face by that word ) by your side, but you had your suspicions it was only because he was with you.

he pushed the cart with one hand, his other resting warmly on your lower back as he guided you through the place like he knew exactly where to go. you’d begged him to come with you—not because you couldn’t do it alone, but because you were curious about him in such a place. the idea of bruce wayne, a billionaire who owned sprawling estates and could have groceries delivered with a snap of his finger, was far too good to pass on.

bruce picked up a bulk-sized box of protein granola bars and studied it like he was deciphering a riddle from the riddler himself. “do we eat these?”

you tilted your head towards him, eyes flickering between his handsome face and the bars in his hands. he managed to look good even under those fluorescent lights. “i eat them. you inhale them after your patrols.

a flicker of smirk danced on his lips while his free arm tightened around your waist, tossing the box into the cart with a nod of his head. “point taken, sweetheart.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

the idea to shop at costco was his.

it was funny to watch him move through the shop, one hand pushing the cart while he held your hand with the other. ( “costco? are you kidding? i love costco,” he’d said with excitement filling his voice, practically dragging you out the door before you could protest. ) . now, you were strolling through various aisles with your boyfriend. dick was dressed in his usual hoodie and jeans, although you knew he was hiding his suit under the casual clothes. his blue eyes sparkled whenever he discovered something that was ‘essential’ for your home.

“do we really need a 10 pound tub of peanut butter?”

“we do now.”

it was nice seeing him like this, doing normal things like shopping for once. he scanned the rows of fresh fruit like a normal guy instead of the acrobatic vigilante who swung through blüdhaven’s skyline every night. dick picked up a bag of green apples and tossed it into the cart. they’d bruise, no doubt. “do you approve of these?”

“i approve of anything that gets you to eat actual food instead of protein bars and instant noodles,” you pinched his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your touch.

he swatted your hand away. “hey, i make a mean bowl of mac and cheese.”

“you mean you open a mean box of mac and cheese.”

dick shrugged with an ashamed smile on his face, hand reaching out and picking up a tub of pre-cut pineapple. “there. that’s balance right here. carbs and fruit. meal prep done.”

. . . JASON TODD !

THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR GROANED UNDER THE WEIGHT OF WHAT FELT LIKE AN ENTIRE GROCERY STORE as jason hefted yet another bag onto his shoulder, the plastic handles straining under the bulk of sparkling water. his leather jacket creaked with the movement, and a few stray strands of his dark hair fell across his forehead as he turned to you with a playful look on his face.

“explain to me again,” he drawled out lowly, “why two people need this much stuff?”

you shrugged your shoulders and leaned casually against the car while sipping your iced coffee, looking far too pleased with yourself ( which you kinda were ). “because it’s costco, jay. you don’t go in for just a few things. you go in, black out, and come out with a year’s supply of paper towels and enough food to survive the apocalypse.”

your boyfriend huffed a laugh at that, shaking his head as he grabbed another bag, this one balanced with a carton of eggs and a bag of frozen chicken nuggets. “pretty sure you’re prepping for more than just the apocalypse. you’ve got enough granola bars in here to feed an entire boy scout troop.”

“don’t act like you’re not going to eat half of those on your next patrol.”

jason ate like he was the entire boy scout troop.

“fair point,” he admitted and you watched as his lips twitched into a smirk. jason had this way of making even the most normal activities feel like they were charged with a kind of electricity. the way he moved, the way he joked — it all carried that signature side of him.

[novemberheart]

{overview} You put your omega instincts to good use. It’s time to face John

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, slight gore, cursing, mentions of death, slight panic attacks, injuries

Chapter 27 <- Chapter 28 -> Chapter 29

You were thankful Johnny knew what to do. You were nothing but a thorn in the side. Your hands gripped onto the back of his T-shirt as he led you around. Anais happily agreed to watch Vernie, squeezing you tightly in assurance.

Your heart sank when he stopped in front of a helicopter.

“Mac, please tell me what's happening,” you pleaded, keeping your voice strong.

“Just need you to be a good omega for me and follow what I say,” he reasoned back. His hand hadn't left the waistband of your pants, and you were beginning to feel sick from the way he moved you around. “Up you go,” he urged, basically lifting you onto the helicopter with one arm.

You needed to get out of your funk. This is what gave omegas a bad name. The inability to respond quickly when in an unknown situation. You would just have to be strong. Interestingly enough your brain repeated Simon's words like a mantra.

“You’re just as brave and stupid as the rest of us.”

Hopefully, you could avoid the stupid. Yet the sentiment didn't go unnoticed. It was just another way Simon was affirming you were a part of the pack. Their pack. You were chosen for a reason.

You were a part of their pack. It was time you started to act like it.

You grabbed the straps yourself before Johnny could buckle you in, strapping yourself in as tight as you could. It caught him a bit off guard, his hands stalling for a moment, before taking his own seat as close to you as he could.

“It’s Kyle isn't it?” you pressed. You had to yell for him to hear you.

“It is,” Johnny affirmed. “He’ll be fine. Nothin’ a little you can't fix,” Johnny soothed.

“You’re getting cocky, Gaz,” John spoke, making Kyle’s lips quirk up into a smirk.

“You find a reason for me not to be, sir?” He shot back. His dress shoes were quiet against the tile floor. If it wasn’t for his voice you wouldn’t even know he was there.

“Enough with the banter, boys,” Laswell sighed. “You two should be home already,” she adde. It caught them both off guard, their bodies tensing and stomach turning. Your face popped into their head. Kyle’s face scrunched as a pang shot through him. “Sorry,” Laswell added, feeling their mood shift. Ever since you, home has been a touchy subject. Sometimes home wasn’t always four walls.

“S’alright,” John spoke, clearing his throat. It had been especially hard for the alpha leaving after what had transpired. While he had made slight amends with you, it was hard to get back into your good graces halfway across the world. John shut his eyes tightly from his spot on the roof. He took a deep breath nearly able to smell the fresh peaches and warm vanilla. He could feel your hands gripping his shoulders and the way your skin molded perfectly against his. He could feel your cheek against his and the giggle that brushed across his ear when his beard would tickle you. He growled low in his throat, his eyes fluttering open.

They needed to get home.

“Got eyes on them?” He spoke, his voice rumbling through the comms. Kyle didn’t say a word. They were close. “Lead them out the back alley if you can,” he kept his voice low.

As if on cue the backdoor opened, two tall men wearing black suits walked out, with two more behind them dressed in perfectly tailored blue suits. John rolled his eyes. Could they be anymore obvious? A woman turned down the alley making John curse. Would be hard to shoot four people with a witness.

“There’s a woman. See if you can steer her away,” John mumbled, eyeing them through the scope. Kyle entered the alley, dressed as a waiter, pointing for the woman to turn around.

“Sorry miss, but we have a delivery truck comin’ in. You’ll be trapped,” He explained, waving his hand.

“That’s alright,” She smiled. Kyle immediately felt his stomach drop his hands moving on instinct as her hand reached to her side. He dodged her, his hand able to get a good grip on the back of her sweater tossing her towards the men. The knife clattered from her hand against the ground. Kyle didn't bother to go for it, the gun tucked into his coat getting the job done quicker. Kyle took out three of them, John taking out the other two.

“Good work,” John praised. Kyle exhaled, ready to begin his trek down the alley before something caught his eye. It was the woman, lying face down against the street.

Her hair matched yours.

She had a similar build. You even had a sweater that same color. It made his stomach turn, his mind easily replacing her with you.

“Kyle?” It was commanding and concerned. “You need to get out of there,” John pressed. Kyle’s body erupted in goosebumps, his feet finally catching up with his brain. He began to walk forward, the urge to look back one last time irrefutable.

“Can't just leave her here,” Kyle said finally. He opened his mouth to continue, but the sight had made him sick. He turned his head towards the trash can, bile rising up his throat. John opened his mouth ready to rip him a new one, yet his words got caught as well. It was like he had forgotten where he was, his brows furrowing at the idea of you being there.

Why were you in the street? He winced, the reasoning behind Kyle’s actions as clear as day.

“She’s at home safe,” John reasoned. He could see Kyle wipe his face with his sleeve and nod.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know.”

“Get out of there,” John repeated. Kyle agreed silently, heading back into the restaurant.

“Fuckin’ over this shit,” Kyle growled, pacing back and forth in front of the alpha. “Another bloody week?” he continued. The alpha’s hands reached out, gripping the back of Kyle’s shoulders.

“The timeline isn't definite,” John reminded, pulling the fired-up man against him. John felt heated against him- a true sign of how equally upset he was. “The more we keep our heads on the quicker we can get home.”

Sometimes home wasn't always four walls.

“Definite? Could be longer then,” Kyle snarled, rolling his shoulders out of John’s grasp.

“What do they expect anyway? They constantly push for every pack to have an omega and then don't make proper adjustments for it. What will we do when she's marked and she marks us? I won't be able to be away from her longer than a month and you’ll only be able to last around two weeks.” Kyle ranted. They had been gone two weeks- now they were expected to be gone for another whole week. It felt longer than that. Each day dragging on like an anchor in the sand.

“They make pills for things like that now,” John sighed, running a hand over his face. His beta was justified in his anger, but it would just be easier to push feelings aside and get the job done. “She’s not home alone either. Johnny’s keepin’ her safe,” he added.

John’s phone went off. He grumbled, digging in his pocket moving towards the door. He acknowledged something, hanging up in one motion. “Get your vest on. We are leaving,” He commanded.

Every minute felt like an hour, every hour felt like a lifetime. You had finally landed in a hospital just outside of Kavala. The helicopter ride hadn’t lasted long and you and Johnny had to hop onto a passenger airplane. It was early afternoon when you had arrived.

At least it was warm. Kyle would appreciate that.

“Garrick, Kyle,” Johnny spoke. The woman at the desk clacked against her computer.

“Not ready yet,” she replied bluntly. “He needs more time,” she explained.

“He’s my beta,” you growled before you could stop yourself.

“Marked him?” She questioned. Your face curled. You could be bonded without marking him.

“She did,” Johnny lied. The woman eyed you both before pushing her rolling chair against one of her coworkers. They whispered to each other looking between the two of you.

“Follow,” she commanded, getting up from her chair. You breathed out, your hand giving Johnny’s a squeeze. The hospital was nice. Not as sterile and cold as the one on base.

You were hot on her heels as she weaved her way through the halls, an evil sounding whine leaving you when she would stop and chat to a coworker. Some people just couldn’t read the room.

She stopped in front of a door and you gripped the handle without permission, nearly pushing her out of the way. You didn’t even notice John sitting in the hallway. You walked into the room, your hand gripping the curtain around the bed.

“Next one,” the nurse corrected harshly. You couldn’t blame her for her tone. He was in the bed closest to the window. A whimper left you as you pulled the curtain back.

“Kyky,” you mumbled, already clawing at your eyes. The blanket was pulled above his shoulders, the skin that was exposed wet and feverish. His face looked the same, besides a scrape against his jaw.

You got to work.

You could already tell his leg was in a cast. You pulled the blanket to his waist. His whole torso was covered in red spotted bandages, his arm in a sling against his chest. You pulled both the room and window curtain back, so he could feel the sun against his skin. That would make him feel better. You went over to a cabinet pulling out the smallest towel you could find, using the water fountain in the hallway to wet it. You still hadn’t noticed the distraught alpha in the hallway. Your distraught alpha. John watched you carefully, the ache in his chest crippling as you went about your business without so much as a glance. He pushed that away. All that mattered was that Kyle got the care he needed. John let himself sink against Johnny as they sat in the hallway. The Scot’s soft blue eyes understanding and assuring.

“I missed you two,” John said finally.

“We missed you,” Johnny affirmed. “She’s been havin’ a hard time sleepin’. Been hard on her, having both her alphas gone,” Johnny sighed.

“You’ve done a good job takin’ care of her,” John said, his throat tightening. “Is she still….” John trailed off. Johnny knew what he was referring to. The Scot pressed his lips against the alpha stiff shoulder.

“I think she still thinks about it. Especially with everyone being away it’s easy to let her mind wander. Being close to you- being reminded of how much you love her will shake any doubts she might have,” Johnny explained. John relaxed. That is exactly what he needed to hear. A lone tear fled from his eye and he rubbed it away with his thumb. One of the most common misconceptions about Johnny was that emotions flew over his head. Whilst the man was brash and impulsive, he felt everything so deeply and he always knew what to say in the aide of others.

You washed as much of Kyle as you could without disrupting him.

He knew you were there.

You could feel it. His muscles twitched, despite the medicine in his system, like something inside him was trying to claw its way out to get to you. You could hear the clatter of shoes against the floor, not paying much mind until then entered the room. It was a nurse, one that you could already tell knew what she was doing. She was an alpha. You could tell by her square shoulders and frown lines.

“You got here fast. That is good,” her accent was strong, but her pronunciation was perfect. She eyed the curtains that had been pulled back and the wet cloth on your hands. “You have strong instincts. That is good, knowing what your beta needs to get better,” she praised. “He has a fractured leg, an overstretched ligament in his shoulder, and multiple lacerations across his abdomen,” she explained.

“How long will he be asleep?” you questioned. While you had heard the information it was like your brain rejected it. You didn't want to hear what had happened, just how you could fix him. Asking how long he would be asleep felt manageable. Something you could prepare for.

“Whenever the anesthesia wears off,” She responded curtly. “For these types of injuries, we recommend keeping as close as possible to him. He needs to know you are here,” she spoke, brushing past you. She pushed down the rail of the side of the bed and pushed a button on the headboard. The bed expanded on the left side and you took a few steps back to allow it some room. “You can sleep here,” she patted the newly extended portion. “I suggest skin-on-skin contact. That may be a little hard due to injuries but it can be something as small as resting your hand here,” she pointed to his rising chest. “There are blankets in the cabinet. You might be tempted to get some softer blankets from the store around the corner, but it'll be best if you’re a little uncomfortable. Your discomfort will heighten his instincts and spur on the healing process,” she reminded, opening the cabinet you had just dug through. “I’ll be back when he wakes up,” she said, not bothering to look over her shoulder.

“Thank you!” you called after her. You sighed, heading for the papery thin sheet from the cabinet. You crawled onto the bed, using it to cover both you and Kyle. You pressed your cheek against his bare shoulder, inhaling deeply. Fresh linen, mixed with a slight salty breeze from his sweat. “I love you,” you mumbled against him. Your fingers brushed against his side and you resisted the urge to throw yourself against him and bury yourself as far into him as you could. You settled for wrapping around his good arm, resting it between your thighs just like he always slept.

It wasn't long before you drifted off to sleep.

John and Johnny entered shortly after, wanting to make sure you had enough time to get settled. John growled at the state of you. Your tired form shaking from nerves and low temperature. Your eyes rubbed raw, and your hair knotted and unkempt. Your cheeks heated from a slight fever. You always got fevers when you were upset. You've probably had one for weeks. He dug into the bag Johnny had brought with him, pulling out one of the blankets he had packed you.

“Ya heard what the nurse sai”-

“Kyle would murder us if he found out we let her suffer at his expense,” John cut him off. “Besides after what he's been through he’ll want to wake up to her being as comfortable as possible.” John tucked you in, making sure the blanket was rolled up to your neck and chin.

“Her jellyfish is next to her socks,” Johnny added. John dug into the bag again, tucking it under the covers with you.

“What happened?” Johnny worked up the nerve to press.

John sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His knuckles brushed up and down your side, adjusting the blanket again.

“Car crash,” John sighed. “He was in a car that was headin’ towards a warehouse. It was intercepted,” He explained through gritted teeth. Johnny grumbled under his breath, adjusting in his seat.

“We know by who?” He pressed. John hummed in agreement.

“I was in the car behind ‘em. It's been handled,” He assured. Johnny stood, gripping the back of the alpha’s neck pulling him against him. John rested his head against Johnny’s stomach, his hand gripping his shirt. Johnny's hands ran up and down his back, digging his thumbs into the tense muscles.

“You’re exhausted. Need to sleep,” Johnny reasoned. He pulled away from him, setting up a small area on the floor for them to sleep. They've slept on worse.

You woke up slowly. The room was dark. Too dark. You whimpered quietly, causing shuffling in the corner.

“You alright?” John rasped. A purr echoed through your body before you could stop it, the sound pure instinct. “Sweet girl,” he groaned, more to himself than anything. A hand rested on the top of your head, dragging down your back, dipping under the familiar softness of your blanket. You tried to remind yourself you were still hurt by him, yet the addicting warmth of his hand against your skin had you melting into the bed. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning forward, his lips pressed against your hairline. “Both did,” he added, pressing you closer to Kyle. You whimpered out, your hands finding their way to his face, his beard tickling against your skin just like how you remembered. His chest rumbled with a sad sound, his face making a beeline straight to your neck, pressing his way between your shoulder and jaw. “I’m sorry I had to leave when I did,” he said softly. His teeth ached being so close to your neck. All he had to do was bite down and you would be his forever. Connected and bound together. He was tempted to do it while you were letting him be so close to you.

“John?” you whispered, your nails digging into his biceps. A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. God, he missed you. He hummed in response, his cheek pressed against yours. “You don't wish I was someone else….do you?” you asked softly. His heart fell into his stomach, a familiar uneasiness falling over him. How could you even think that? “I just don't want you to wish you had picked someone different th”-

A sharp growl cuts you off, your body being pressed further into the mattress.

“Pull your head out of your arse, pretty,” he growled against your cheek. Your eyes widened and you tried to move your head to look at him. “Remember the first time we met? You walked in and the door blew your scent right in my face. Wanted to make you mine right there. One scent, one look, one word and I knew you were mine. Nothin’ll waver that,” his tone was passionate and slightly desperate, offering you no room for disagreement. He had never shown you he had wanted someone else or that he was unhappy with you in any way.

You just needed to hear it from him.

Sorry for the late update! Chapter 29 will be posted in three days! 🧡😊

[t00nified]

This feels like something Lara and Mac would say

[ramp-it-up]

Peach V

Peach IV | Peach VI

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. Maybe it’s because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Are you finally willing to admit that you want to be with him?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two like I can’t explain. The slow burn speeds up a lil bit in this. There’s some action. 🥹 This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Steve Rogers fic Peach IV. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, EXTREME Mutual pining, idiots in love, lusting, dancing lessons, use of the words ‘mad’ and ‘crazy,’ Bucky is a jerk, boy do you get jealous. Kissing and heavy petting in the form of oral sex, female receiving. Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“Welcome to SOB’s.”

You were one of the first awardees up to present to the group. Each recipient picked a NYC area artistic landmark to research and lead the others on a tour, discussing the significance to the art form for which they received funding.

As always, you were going outside of the box.

You looked around and concentrated on not staring at Steve. He looked so fine, foregoing his tailored sport coats this evening for a black pullover pushed up on his hairy, corded forearms. 

Dark jeans clung to his thighs and black boots encased his huge feet. What he was wearing highlighted every physical attribute that made you weak. He was quite the distraction, but you were a professional. 

You smiled at your cousin and Bucky, who were beaming at you, and began.

“Sounds of Brazil isn’t just a club—it’s a melting pot of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

You moved around the relatively small dark space, but then a screen came down on the stage and a slide show of performances danced across it, with accompanying music flowing from the speakers.

 “SOB’s started as a space to showcase Brazilian, Latin, Caribbean, and African music, and quickly became a go-to spot for hip-hop, R&B, and reggae too. The Afro-Caribbean Queen herself, Ms. Celia Cruz, as well as Marc Anthony, J Cole, HER and Mac Miller (rest his soul) have all rocked this stage.”

You were silent for a moment and then continued. 

“This place is more than music; it’s about community, culture, and the celebration of diverse sounds. For me, dance is life. And it’s music such as what was fostered here that inspires me. It’s places like this that give life to the creativity of my art and my soul.”

“The vibe here is immaculate. It’s intimate, electric, and always unpredictable. Just imagine the countless artists who’ve poured their souls into performances right on this stage.This isn’t just a club, it’s a meld of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

The video and music turned to Celia Cruz’s “Toro Mata” and three beautiful women, who looked like showgirls, came from backstage.

“In February, Salsa Groove starts at SOB’s with free salsa lessons, happy hour, and many other fun things. These ladies are here to give us a preview, so find a partner and let’s dance!”

Sharon moved toward Steve, but Sam grabbed her and she plastered on a fake smile. You smiled over at your cousin who was currently in the process of being caught up in the arms of James Buchanan Barnes.

Activity swirled around you as the dance instructors organized groups to teach, but you and Steve were left in the center of the dance floor.

You smiled at him. 

“Looks like I get to teach you Mr. Rogers.”

“Lucky me. Hope your feet survive.”

His sexy chuckle did you in as you slid into his arms. You placed your arms in the right position, but shifted to help him adjust.

“Relax your shoulders,” you murmured, stepping closer and running your hand along his broad trapezius muscles. 

Your voice was warm and laced with patience as you looked into his eyes.

“Salsa isn’t just about the steps. It’s about how you feel the music.”

“I feel it,” replied Steve, swallowing as he watched your hips move effortlessly with the rhythm. You made it look easy, natural and beautiful. He, on the other hand, felt a little bit out of sync, out of breath, and out of his depth. 

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, your palms pressing together and conducting electricity. 

“Start with the basics,” you whispered, guiding him.

“One, two, three: back. Five, six, seven: forward.”

Steve looked down to catch the rhythm and you pulled his arm around you tighter, causing you two to meld even closer together.

“Don’t overthink it. Just listen to me.”

Steve nodded and looked into the kaleidoscope depths of your eyes. 

And he listened. 

He listened to the way your breath hitched as his hand slid to your waist. 

And he noticed. 

He noticed the way your eyes flickered to his lips when you moved together in sync, your bodies sinfully connected.

“That’s it,” you said, your voice lower now, “Now, feel me.”

You guided his hand to your lower back, and his fingers instinctively pulled you more firmly against him. This power from him made you high along with the way your body fit against his.

You moved in perfect harmony.

“Better,” you murmured as you watched his mouth again.

Steve was found himself smiling, his steps more fluid now, as if he’d been dancing with you forever. His confidence grew with each turn, each time your bodies came in contact. 

And when you finally spun into him, your palm resting against his chest, your breaths mingling in the space between you, he knew this wasn’t just a dance. 

It was his chance.

Steve was about to lean in to kiss you when a slow clap began, started by Sharon.

You both looked around, surprised there was anyone else there. The music had stopped.

“Great job, Mr. Rogers. You made that look convincing.”

Sharon’s voice grated on your nerves but you had to laugh at your cousin giving her the gas face. You just rolled your eyes. Not even she could bring you down at the moment.

“SOB’s opened early just for us, we have another hour to dance and have fun. I’d love to talk more if you all are inspired. Have fun!”

Steve stood back and admired you, his creative queen, as the others swarmed around you.

—-

The way you moved made Steve Rogers feverish. 

The sway of your hips hypnotized him and he had to concentrate very much to appear unbothered. The smell of you made his cock thicken and gotdamn, when you laughed his stomach did flips.

He’d pay a million dollars to the first person who convinced you to kiss him. 

He’d pay you ten million for each kiss you’d give him willingly.

Steve was down bad.

The nail in his coffin was your creativity and bravery; the way you shared your opinions on your art and everything else made him mad with desire.

He now fully understood Bucky’s insistence to get fully clean. Steve was glad they were so close to the finish line and was willing to beat Bucky there. 

Steve was determined to be the good man you once thought he was.

—---

Over the next couple of days, your heart raced each time you watched Steve across whatever rooms you were in. His six foot plus form dominated every space and his natural affinity for art was so fucking appealing.

You finally admitted to yourself that you were feeling him, although the issue of whether you could trust him would not die. But when he looked at you with those baby blues, you got weak. There was definitely a connection and a chemistry that you couldn’t resist for much longer.

You couldn’t deny it any more.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

—--

Sharon would not stop talking. You were unfortunate enough to sit near her on the Sprinter as it took you back to the hotel for the mid-day break on Wednesday. She was going on about her meeting with Steve to Lily from Montana.

Each recipient had meetings scheduled with Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, another requirement of the week. Frequently, the meetings included a meal. It must have been a dizzying pace for them, but you’d really enjoyed your coffee with Sam and lunch with Natasha. They were cool people.

And of course your dinner with Bucky was amazing. You couldn’t wait for him to be your cousin, although he remained coy about proposing no matter how much you pressed him about the holiday trip.

“I mean my meeting with Steve was convenient this morning. He was right there and we were already in our comfortable clothing… the breakfast place was perfect…”

Your ears perked up at that.

“I just woke up so sore this morning. It’s all Steve’s fault…and then he had the nerve to do it again…”

Your mind filled in the gaps and your blood started to boil. 

This must be why he hadn’t been around that morning. He was recovering from fucking with Sharon. Rational thought was out the window and you couldn’t see anything but red.

Instead of going up to your room to rest, you walked the four blocks to the Rebirth building. 

Your spine was straight and your chin was up as you entered the gallery, passed Natasha and headed to Steve’s office. He came to stand at the door as you approached, obviously warned that you were coming. He was in shirtsleeves, his black button-down clinging to his muscular frame, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. 

You blinked because he looked dangerously, devastatingly handsome in a way that was almost too much to look at directly. His mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared. For a moment, you were frozen, ready to fuck him or spring into battle.

Just then, Bucky Barnes bounded out of a door near Steve’s, looking like a black lab, and headed in the same direction you were.

“Yo, Steve. I think that we should… oh shit! Peach!”

You couldn’t help but smile at Bucky, who looked cute in a black pullover with his curly hair tousled. Over Thanksgiving weekend, you’d grown to like him a lot. 

Bucky Barnes obviously loved his friends. He also was a good guy, despite his line of work. The way he loved your cousin had earned your respect.

You smiled and held your hand out for him to shake.

“Hullo Bunny… eep!”

He pulled you toward him, drawing you into a hug and twirling you out into a salsa spin, causing you to laugh. 

“It’s Bucky, Mr. Barnes if you’re nasty!”

You were shaking with laughter.

“Oh gawd! Does my cousin know that you are so corny?”

Bucky had mellowed your harsh.

Momentarily.

“It’s part of why she keeps coming back, Peach.”

Bucky winked at you and instantly you understood the appeal. You grinned up at Bucky, lightly slapping him on the arm as he laughed at you.

Someone cleared their throat and Bucky smirked over at Steve. Then, he caught the drift. 

“I can see that you have important business to attend to with this Punk. Catch you later.”

Suddenly you didn’t want to have this conversation, because the way Steve was looking at you was too intense. You didn’t move. You felt Bucky’s warm hands on your shoulders and you were compelled to move forward.

“Onward. Into the fray.”

You glared over your shoulder at Bucky and then looked back at Steve.

“Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and he greeted you in kind. 

“Ms. Y/LN. Is there something I can help you with?”

He walked into his office and you followed him, making sure to leave the door open. Steve's gaze slowly dragged down your body and back up again until it settled on your mouth. You felt that look like a physical touch, making your clothes feel irrelevant. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding them right there.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers. I need you to be honest with me.”

Normally, that was a throwaway comment, but Steve knew how important him being honest was to you, so he nodded, cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” while looking you in those beautiful eyes.

“Did you fuck Sharon Carter last night?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times to digest your question. Then he answered it. Blood rushed in his head.  

I’m gonna kill the mutherfucker that said that, he thought. But he was calm when he replied.

“No. I was very much alone last night.” 

Missing you, he thought.

“Did you fuck her this morning?”

Steve put his file down on his desk and leaned back on it, crossing his arms.

“Absolutely not. She showed up at my gym, for the second day in a row. I helped her with some technique and then had our meeting in a coffee shop. Who is spreading this rumor that’s got you so worked up?”

He would find the fucking liar and strangle them to death.

“That bitch is going around insinuating to everyone…”

Then you realized what was going on. You closed your mouth. Sharon. 

That bitch. Why were you letting some hoe rag get to you?

“Never mind. You’re absolutely right. I don’t care.”

You raised your chin like the regal queen you were and Steve wanted to fall at your feet. 

“Well for your information, I’m not interested in Sharon Carter. As a matter of fact…”

All I want is you. 

Steve looked you in your eyes. God, you were so beautiful.

“I’m taken.” 

Your breath caught in your throat and a feeling in between panic and jealousy furled in your stomach at those words. As he looked at you, understanding dawned about what he meant. 

This conversation was not going the way you intended it to.

Your eyes moved to avoid Steve’s and it was then you noticed Bucky leaning on Steve’s door frame and snacking while he watched you two.

“Popcorn? Really Bucky???”

Bucky extended the bag to you. 

“‘SmartPop. Want some?”

Steve went over and closed the door in Bucky’s face and then turned back to you. You noticed how his bicep bulged when he ran his hand through his hair and your nipples tightened into stiff peaks.  

“Sorry to that woman.”

You played dumb, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. But Steve clocked you. He shook his head and chuckled.

You crossed your arms and jutted your hip out. 

“What?...What, Steven!?”

You were the most adorable human he’d ever seen. 

“Nothing.”

You turned around to leave and then whirled around again.

“And another thing!”

Steve was smirking now. 

“You upgraded me on the airline and at the hotel. Didn’t you? And you gave me more endowment than anyone else. You’re just trying to get in my pants again.”

Steve sighed.

“Okay, so first I fucked Sharon, now I’m trying to get in your pants. You’re going from one extreme to another.”

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

Steve clenched his jaw, but his voice remained even. He really wanted to grab you and spread you over his desk and give you his cock until you calmed down. But baby steps.

He stepped to you and you looking up at him was his Roman Empire.

“You. Are. Wrong.”

His glare was blue ice and you felt just a little bit afraid. 

And a lot turned on. 

“Do you realize that your cousin helped us out with travel and accommodations?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t get more than anyone else. Russ received $250,000. Awards were scaled according to the project.”

“Ah.”

“And I don’t just want to get in your pants. I want so much more.”

You stood there dumbfounded.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Steve gave you a rueful smile.

“Stop pretending you don’t know. Peach, I–”

You raised your hand to signal stop.

“Ain't nobody got time for this.”

He gazed at you with a sparkle in his eye and licked those red, red lips. But he put his hands up and backed away, still smiling.

“Also. Stop doing that!”

You waved your hand in the direction of this face. You needed him to stop looking at you like that.

He was trying to hold himself back. Your lunacy had him hard. And you not letting him tell you how he felt made him want to make you beg for him. He shook his head to clear his lust.

“Just what am I doing to you, Ms. YLN?”

That voice again. Your eyes shuttered and your pussy pulsed at the answer to that question, but you were determined to get him told.

“Sparkling those eyes down at me like that!”

“Sparkling my eyes…?”

Steve feigned annoyance, but he was enjoying the fuck out of this. 

“What does that even mean?”

“You know exactly what it means! Looking at me like.. Like.. like you…Just. Stop.”

He stopped smiling. 

“As you wish.”

Steve’s eyes roamed over your face, pausing to look at your lips. Then, he looked back up into your eyes and the sparkle was gone. It was replaced by a warm blue fire that for some reason caused you to shiver. You wanted to fall into it and his arms, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Nope. Don’t do that either.”

Steve huffed as the corner of his mouth hooked upward into a sexy side grin. Your panties couldn’t take it.

“Do wh–? Umph. Ummhmmhhmm!”

You put your hand over Steve’s mouth to stop him from assaulting you with his voice but he kept vocalizing. You realized that Steve’s hand was on your waist and was pulling you closer to him. 

Your breasts were pressed up against his rock hard torso and your hand was on his chest. Lord help you, all you needed to do was remove your hand. You stared into those blue depths for half a second and then moved back.

Steve licked his lips when your hand was gone and your body buzzed as he contemplated pulling you back into his arms.

When that look came into his eyes, you gave up. 

“Ugh. Never mind. I’ve got to go.”

You straightened your spine again, turned on your heel and marched toward the door. 

Steve followed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Bucky was pumping his fist as you made to leave the building. You thought about giving him a piece of your mind, but you had to get out of there; Steve was close behind.

“Peach. Stop running. Calm down.”

You stopped and whirled on him, poking your finger in his chest.

“NEVER tell a mad woman to calm down, Rogers.”

He smiled down at you and your world spun out.

“So you admit that you’re crazy?”

“Fuck you!”

You turned and walked toward your hotel at a steady pace but Steve was right behind you. He followed you back to your hotel lobby and was right there when you pressed the elevator button. 

“What do you want, Steve?”

You sideyed him as you looked up at the floor indicator panel.

“You.”

You whipped your head around as the elevator doors opened. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. But then you just  wordlessly walked into the elevator as Steve followed closely.

“You feel this thing between us, Peach. I’m not alone in this. I know I’m not.” 

He moved close to you as the elevator doors closed, placing one arm on the wall near your head and the other on the railing beside you. You were enveloped in him. But when you looked up at him. Jesus.

“You wish. You think you’re god’s gift to women, Rogers?”

Your whisper was fervent.Your heart was beating out of your chest and your cunt was soaking wet. The electricity was arcing between you in the small space. You felt it in the small of your back. 

“Judging by the way you look at me, Peach. I’d say you wish, too.”

You shifted, trying to rub your legs together on the low. There was an ache you needed extinguished.

“Boy, please...”

You were still trying to fight it as Steve moved close, his lips a breath from your ear.

“Not all women. Just you. And you don’t need to beg. Just ask for what you want, Peach.”

He pulled back and you almost chased him, but bit your lip and tried to remain calm.

“I don’t want anything from you, Steven.”

“Now, you’re the liar.” Steve intoned, his jaw working tightly.

When the elevator door opened, you ran out, moving quickly down the hallway to your room. You stood in front of your door and stared at Steve, not opening the door and not speaking.

He looked down the hallway and spoke, anger laced in his tone. 

“Open the fucking door and get your sweet ass in that room, Peach.”

You tried to stare him down, but he was determined. And something in those blue eyes made you want to comply.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Your hands shook as you opened your door with Steve breathing down your neck, reminiscent of that night in Atlanta. 

Once the door was closed, he stalked toward you, tipping up your chin to meet his intense gaze. His thumb brushed your bottom lip and you suppressed a shudder. 

No one had ever made you feel this way with just a touch. 

“What do you want from me?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper. 

Steve leaned in close to reply, his breath fanning your face.

“Stop fucking running from me. I apologize for all the things I’ve done. But now I’m underwater and I’m drowning in my feelings for you.”

Your resistance were just bare thread now. And the last ones frayed into nothing at his proximity.

“Prove it,” you said as you met his gaze. 

Steve’s eyes glinted with something you couldn’t read, and his hand moved to your waist. 

“Careful now, Peach,” he murmured and bent his head, still not quite kissing you, but driving you crazy.

“You don’t scare me,” you whispered. 

“No?” 

His hand was on your back now, moving you impossibly closer. 

“I think that I do. I think the feelings you have for me terrify you.” 

His lush lips crashed down on yours, and you were completely lost to the way he devoured you, all heat and hunger and lust. Your tongues tangled and danced, and you moaned into his mouth. 

Steve broke away to nip down your jaw. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, Peach. ‘S all I could think about this past month.” 

His hands slid down your body to palm your ass, pulling you close and making you feel how hard he was for you. Damn he was big. He was right, you’d probably struggle to take him, but god you wanted to try right now.

Slowly, Steve lowered his head again, watching you intently as his lips capture yours. The kiss started off slow and delicious, then it deepened, growing more passionate, more demanding. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him closer. And when you came up for air, you were both breathing hard. He leaned his forehead on yours.

“I want every single part of you, Peach,” he said roughly. “Not just your body.”

Your heart swelled. There was no more holding back now. 

“D’you think you can… can you think about trusting me with your heart?”

You hesitated and he knew he needed to get you not to get back in your head. He settled into the large couch and pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body was like nothing else. 

“You feel fucking amazing.”

Before he knew it, Steve wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you down to his mouth. He nipped at your lower lip, then soothed the tender flesh with his tongue, leaving you a trembling mess.

He lifted his hand and ran a finger down the side of your neck; the touch was light but somehow burned. 

“Tell me you don’t think about being mine?”

You only whimper in answer, your stubbornness still in control.

He shook his head as he leaned down and followed the trail of his finger with his lips.

It felt so good that you tilted your head to the side with a soft sigh, giving him better access. Steve took full advantage, trailing kisses back up to the sensitive spot behind your ear that made you shiver.

“Fuck, Steve.”

You hooked your leg around his waist and rolled your hips against his like he was a pole. You arched your back and attempted to ride him to get some satisfaction to your core, which was 

aching and weeping.

“No. We’re not gonna fuck. Not until you tell me you’re mine. But we can play.”

He arched a dark blonde eyebrow as he kissed down your cleavage and  one big hand cupped your breast over your shirt and the other reached down to slip inside your panties. 

“You wanna play, Peach? You’re absolutely soaked Sweetheart. Want me to make you feel good?”

It was his one mission in life, and he could do it all day, bring you pleasure.

You pouted up at him, but you couldn’t resist. This high was too addictive.

“Yes, Stevie. Please. Make me feel good.” 

He growled lowly when you arched into his touch. You felt the hard length of him pressing against your core, and you reached down to palm him through his pants. 

“Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Suddenly, your bra was pulled down and his mouth was closing over your nipple, sucking and teasing. He moved lower, getting on his knees beside the couch.

He stopped manhandling you long enough to unbutton his shirt and damn, did you pay attention. 

You bit your finger as those muscular shoulders and biceps and chest came into view. Your eyes followed the happy trail that flowed down his six pack and damn the bugle in his pants was big.

That shocked look on your face when you met his eyes again was so hot that Steve wanted to fucking ruin you, but he decided have settle for just tasting you.

“Don’t want you to get my shirt wet, Sweetheart.”

He winked and then reached underneath your skirt to find your panties.

You scrambled up on your hands and scoffed.

“It’s like that?”

Steve grabbed your thighs and pulled them apart, making your skirt ride up.

You leaned back and smiled as he winked and nodded.

He hiked your legs over his shoulders and a second later, his mouth was between them, his tongue teasing the skin near where you really wanted him to be. 

You grabbed his hair and ground against his face, already desperate for more. And when he licked straight through the center of you, a scream started in your throat but you stifled it, looking down to see Steve’s eyes twinkle up at you. 

He kept you pinned against the couch, gripping your hips with those big, strong hands and holding you in place. His tongue traveled up and down your slit, between your folds, and slid inside your wet cunt.

Your entire body trembled as his tongue toyed with your clit. You felt his smile as he started circling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves.

“Fuck! Give me more!”

Your eyes rolled as two of his long thick fingers entered you and scissored before quickly finding the pile of sensitive flesh inside you. He massaged it and at the same time leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth. It was at that point that your orgasm hit you like a wave.

“Steveeeee! Godddd!” 

You screamed as your pussy simultaneously clenched and squirted fluid into Steve’s waiting mouth. Your vision went white, and all the air was sucked out of the room. 

Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus. Steve kissed the inside of your thigh, then stood up, watching you with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“The way you scream my name makes a man wanna buy you jewels Peach.”

His beard was wet and his voice was raspy, but you reached for him and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your essence on his tongue.

Then, he pulled away and found your bathroom. You stared at the ceiling as the water ran and you assumed he was cleaning up. He returned with his shirt on and a warm towel to help you clean up.

He watched as you shed your clothes, sensuality on display only for him. You reached for his pants and he grabbed your wrists, shaking his head.

“Like I said. That was fun. But you’ve got to make a decision, Peach. Do you want me like I want you?”

The words were right there in your throat, but they refused to come out.

You just stared at him.

Steve smiled at you ruefully.

“Okay. It’s all right. I’m not giving up. Just giving you space.”

He handed you the fluffy white robe that was in the bathroom and you put it on to follow him to the door of your suite.

“See you tomorrow after the Summit for our meeting.”

He kissed you goodbye on the cheek and the dance you and Steve Rogers did continued as you watched him walk away from you.

——-

Hope you liked it! Interaction gives me lifeeeeee! Read, comment, reblog, like. TIA 🥰

Read the next part, Peach VI

[complete-clownery]

Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)

So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk

So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it

Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---

Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it

Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad

So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens

Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is

We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac

Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))

so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol

Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)

Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.

I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)

And that all ((((hollly mother))))

If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏

[monayen]

how about something sfw for a change? can you do a ranking of who’s best at cooking?

Cooking Headcannons

➷ Paring - Multi x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - very light mention of consuming blood and cannibalism. that’s about it !!

a/n - i feel like im a bit rusty at pure sfw stuff… but i will try for NNN ~_~ this isn’t a ranking, since a good chunk are either just bad or barely cook. mostly just hcs about food they like, what’d they’d make you, and habits etc. ratmen are excluded cus you know those boys scavenge rather than cook !!! also ignore any mistakes i wrote this really fast

Sebastian

While Sebastian did work at a pizza place for a bit before becoming Randal’s pet, it was just as a delivery boy

I like to think he was in the training process of learning how to make the food, but he got lost before he learned anything skillful. He does have half the recipe for garlic knots memorized though 

A personal hc is that his parents were semi-absent with him (which probably helped lead him to being in the adoption center in the first place), so he survived a lot on sandwiches and microwave meals since they were easy and available

He wasn’t a big fan of it then, but now he craves them a lot. His favorite were the microwaveable kraft dinner mac & cheese cups. Foods like that are a comfort for him, and he’ll love you forever if you manage to get some for him to eat

Luther doesn’t trust him in the kitchen, so even if Sebastian wanted to cook, he wouldn’t be allowed. Deep down, he doubts his cooking skills anyways

Randal

A terrible cook. He has no idea how to properly prepare a meal and his attempts often end in disaster

Randal doesn't understand the concept of recipes or following instructions. He just throws random ingredients together and hopes for the best. “How to Basic” levels of culinary skills

Despite his terrible cooking skills, Randal still insists on trying to make meals for people (or you) to try. Truly believes he's good and everyone else just can’t handle his exquisite tastes

Once, Randal tried to make surprise pancakes for breakfast. He used baking powder instead of baking soda and the pancakes turned out hard as rocks. He still ate them anyway, breaking a couple of his teeth in the process. Don’t worry, they grew back by supper

He used to try to cook at least a couple times a week, but Luther banned him after he 

somehow managed to set water on fire on the stove. Now he’s restricted to just the microwave. Which is alright, just remind him to add the water in his instant noodles before they explode

Randal will also eat almost anything if it's covered in enough sauce or condiments. He's been known to put ketchup on his cereal and maple syrup on his pizza. Swears by it, will probably make you try all his weird food combinations

Satoru

This little show off!

Cooks and bakes purely to give it away to you or Randal. He doesn’t even eat them himself, always insisting you try his new recipe

The reality is that he steals most of his ideas from cookbooks. While he has the skill to execute them, coming up with his own dishes and perfecting them is a bit beyond him—but that’s a secret he keeps to himself!

He’ll sit there, watching closely as you eat his carefully prepared food, studying your reactions and asking if it’s good, like a chef waiting for feedback

But he’s memorized what you like already, and he makes sure to tailor his dishes just for you, hoping to earn your praise when the flavors hit your tongue

Exceptional at chopping, so fast at it you worry he’ll cut a finger off or something if he’s not careful enough. A part of him doesn’t mind if you taste something that has a little bit of his blood in it…

Doesn’t exactly have a favorite meal or food, he likes whatever you like :) is a bit partial to Japanese cuisine though, especially sashimi

Nyon

Nyon's cooking skills are quite limited. As a catman, his preferences lean more towards raw meats and simple  foods. Or whatever Luther gives him

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like a good home cooked meal, but if you put him in a kitchen with every ingredient and tool that could potentially make something avant-garde or delicious… he’d probably just end up making hard boiled eggs

He does have an odd skill of picking though. Pickled cucumbers, onions, beets, all in unlabeled, merky, mason jars. Has a goal to pickle everything that can be pickled, just to try

Keeps a stash of it in the pantry and munches on them when he gets high. Will share if you ask (he kinda wants you to, pickling takes practice!) 

Nyon has the stance that he’d much rather wash the dishes and put away the ingredients than actually prepare the food, as it’s a lot of effort and stress on his part that’d he’d rather avoid

Nyen

Really only ever cooks for himself. Not a fan of sharing and to be honest… you probably wouldn’t like what he makes anyways

Lots of slabs of undercooked chicken and beef, barely seasoned because “it doesn’t need that.” Protein buff, but not keen on eating beans… or eggs… or fish… Okay, usually just eats chicken to maintain his muscles

Unironically picky, doesn’t eat a lot of what isn’t what he usually eats. If you give him a plate of pasta or something, he’ll just stare at it like you handed him a severed cow head. Even Luther knows this, making sure he keeps the fridge stocked with Nyen favorite foods so he’s in the best condition to get through the day!

Does have a small sweet tooth, so you can coax him into baking if he’s in a good mood. His favorite are raspberry muffins :)

You still might have to do most of the work, but he’ll mix shit and keep track of the dessert in the oven for you. Don’t ask him for anything else—just hand him a muffin and clean up the mess, okay?

Luther

Quite the chef! 

He’s domestic, and even though Randal always begs him to get fast food to eat, he always prefers to make something at home

Uses “passed down” recipes. Passed down from who? Who knows. He keeps them all in a little old notebook, pages yellowed and worn out. The last ingredient in all the recipes is always “love ♡”

He’s also a big fan of those southern mom baking shows, especially during the holiday season, he’ll bake like a madman!

Likes nature, so he does have a small garden in the backyard of the house he’ll tend to when he has the time. Specializes in exotic vegetables you probably aren’t used to eating. Ask him how his kohlrabi harvest is going, he’s quite proud!

The type of humanoid to surprise you with your favorite meal after a long day. Makes enough for everyone, of course, but Luther puts in effort to see the smile on your face when he presents you with it at the dinner table

He does expect compliments after you eat any of his food, even if it’s something as simple as scrambled eggs. It means a lot to him, so don’t forget to do so. He might take it the wrong way if you don’t 

Luther swears up and down that he’d never eat a human. Cannibalism is wrong! But he did get very close to once… just to “expand his pallet”

[lovingbarbariancomputer]

You don’t even realize just how fuckin fat you’re about to get bro. Billions have been invested into turning you into a fatboy. This whole country was tailor made to get you as fat and dumb as possible. And you know it turns you the fuck on. You know The feelin of your new belly rubbin against your tight shirt gives you a boner. You know the smell of a big Mac makes your hard-on drip with precum. What’s the point in denying it? In America, that just makes you a fuckin man.

Besides. All your buddies are gettin fat too. It’ll happen to you eventually bro. Lean into it. You’re american. You deserve to be a fatboy, and you know you want it real fuckin bad. Go ahead order another pizza so you can rub your fat belly till you cum your pants. And don’t forget to show off how fuckin fat you’re gettin. Set the example, fatboy. It’s not like you can resist all that hypnotic conditioning anyway. 🇺🇸🍕🇺🇸

[cultven]

could you possibly write general dennis reynolds dating hcs? reader is part of the group? ty 🫶

Dating Dennis Reynolds Headcanons

Word Count: 1.6k

• Dennis is certainly a special significant other, sweet sometimes, insufferable the next.

• BUT he’s your boyfriend and you love him and all of his quirks to death.

• I can see Dennis absolutely showing off your looks.

• You’re the pretty little thing hanging off his arm whenever The Gang finds themselves in professional or business settings, always playing the (not-so) fictional role of Dennis’s hot wife. (Mac is totally not jealous of this)

• What can Dennis say? He’s just so proud he was able to find such a hot person who was also able to handle his attitude.

• Definitely handsy in public; hugging, making out, anything to show others that you’re his.

• Although Dennis does not shy away from PDA, I can see him keeping the real emotional stuff behind closed doors.

• Dennis already has a difficult time expressing his feelings in front of you, the love of his life, he could not imagine showing even an ounce of affection or raw emotion in front of your highly critical friends.

• He genuinely believes you were tailor-made for him though.

• Dennis has never felt genuine care or affection towards a woman in his life, you were the only person in his eyes that is genuinely worthy of his love.

• While he perceives more women to be sluts or toys he could play with, he cannot view you in this light (Madonna-whore complex* if you squint)

• You’re more than that to him, one of the only genuinely good people he knows and can respect.

• You do have your moments though, you’re a part of the gang after all.

• He loves your bad sides as well, I mean he surrounds himself with those kinds of people for a reason.

• Every time you manipulate someone or give a real tongue-lashing to some idiot on the street he can feel himself getting worked up.

• Let’s be real; he’s a kinky man and we know this.

• Obsessed with hickeys, preferably in places that’ll show.

• LOTS of sex in the bar’s office.

• Or just the bar in general honestly.

• But back to the fluff, if you have a cat/like cats then I can definitely see him calling himself the cat’s “father”. Huge cat guy here.

• He is also an absolute drama queen

• He’s feeling even slightly under the weather? You are not a personal nurse, and if he really plays his illness up, maybe you’d even wear that tiny nurse Halloween costume he really loves on you.

• Wear it and he’ll act suspiciously better, trying to coerce you into bed with him. It’s almost as if he does it on purpose…

• But when he is genuinely sick all hell rises

• Mac would speed dial you after an hour of dealing with sick Dennis, begging for you to come over and coddle your whining boyfriend.

• Your relationship isn’t all fluffy and cute, however.

• You often feel anxious remembering Dennis’s promiscuous tendencies, especially remembering him telling you early into your relationship that he’s genuinely never considered settling down with someone before. Sometimes it feels like maybe your fears aren’t entirely irrational.

• When you vocalize these fears to Dennis passionate time in the bedroom usually follows. It’s one of the ways Dennis knows how to connect best with a person and a way for Dennis to demonstrate how he doesn’t need to seek out sex from other women when he has you, his cute little girlfriend, to bend every which way.

• And if that isn’t enough to soothe your worries, Dennis will then try to do some sort of grand gesture proving his love to you. (Imagine something akin to Dennis’s speech to Mac during The Gang Dines Out)

As for the gang…

• Although Dee is not a very great “girl’s girl”, she does appreciate having another female in The Gang.

• Whenever the other four are paired off respectively doing whatever the hell it is they’re doing, she’ll tend to rope you into her misadventures.

• Before you, she was often left alone as Charlie and Frank would do something gross while Mac and Dennis banished her from their side quests. But now, he has someone to hang out with other than animals!

• She isn’t the kindest friend you’ve had, but if it comes down to it she would defend you against a stranger with her life.

• She does question your taste in men, however.

• Dee understands better than anyone else her brother is not a good person, let alone someone deserving of genuine love. She is offended he was able to find someone as perfect as you before she could bag a man.

• Sometimes she’ll even make hints at you being “too good for Dennis” and that her brother doesn’t deserve you, which is honestly the closest thing to a compliment you’ll audibly get from Dee.

• Mac is totally not jealous of your presence in the group.

• Sometimes you’ll hear him make snide comments under his breath when you “steal” his roommate from him.

• How could he not feel envy when you stole his unhealthy codependency for yourself?

• You understand his frustrations though and try to make it clear you’re not trying to butt in on his and Dennis’s… special relationship, which Mac appreciates.

• I can see you two have a definite love-hate relationship with each other; constantly butting heads with one another but ultimately caring and protecting for each other when you need to. Almost like a sibling.

• Charlie more or less acknowledges you’re there.

• If you’re kind to him I could see him potentially inviting you to his frequently gross outings, but honestly, you’d never take him up on the offer if you were dating Dennis.

• As Dennis’s girlfriend, if you didn’t make an outright point to be his friend, he would just view you as another Dennis relationship.

• Although, as a member of The Gang, I can see you and Charlie having a lot of misadventures! You can’t hang around Dennis’s preppy ass all of the time, right? He has Mac when you’re not around anyway.

• If you do indulge in Charlie’s dirt-filled daily tasks just be sure to shower before you even attempt to touch Dennis.

• Frank also ignored you at first, knowing his ex-son's tendencies with women, but after seeing how you were more than a one-night stand to Dennis he was finally interested in you.

• He simply found it fascinating someone was able to crack Dennis’s sociopathic personality, at least to some degree.

• Dennis naturally would make a point not to allow you and Frank to converse for too long. He understands what Frank is capable of and he is not willing to subject you or your relationship to that.

• You do enjoy hearing old stories about Dennis from Frank, especially from his childhood. All of the old photographs and videotapes are also highly appreciated.

I wrote most of this half-high, which I think is on brand for IASIP

*This dichotomy says that people (majority cis-gendered straight men) with this complex see women as either a saint or a whore - but never both.

[athena-xox]

I feel like Goldie for blondie makes more sense. Queen, Heart, (I just realized their names together seem like the queen of hearts lol) definitely could stay the same.

Here are the ones I have in no particular order

Olivia Rhymedrigo [Rodrigo]

Satyrbrina [Sabrina] Carpenter

Fleetwood Mage [Mac] or Feywood Mac

Mythdonna [Madonna]

Renee Rampion [Rapp] or Renee Rapunzel

Olivia Faithton [Newton] John

Aurae [Ariana] Grand

Billygoat Joel

Rachalice [Rachel] Zegler or Feychel Zegler

Stevie Wicks [Nicks]

Lana Del Fey (Rey)

I definitely have more I’m just too tired to think of any

I should really sleep but my ADHD is saying no so have this:

You know how in Ever After High all the singers and bands are just fairytale themed puns on existing singers and bands (Tailor Quick, One Reflection, Lady Yaga)? This but the singer Blondie is still just Blondie. Distant cousin to the main Locks branch, causes a ridiculous amount of confusion. Also, Smashing Pumpkins is another one that can stay the same and make sense in the world of Ever After. Oh, and Muse. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also I need fairytale puns/parodies of other musicians’ and bands’ names. So far I have Swords N’ Roses, Bowling for Pumpkin Soup, The Carriages, Beauty and the Beastie Boys, and Arrowsmith.)

[vergess]

Please, please explain how to install and use linux like I'm 5 years old. I'm so sick of windows adding AI and other bullshit to my already struggling elderly laptop but I'm really not good with computers at all so I have no idea where to start with Linux.

Okay, so, I'm going to break this down into steps I would give the average tumblr user first, and then if any of them are confusing or use words you don't understand, ask me and I'll explain that step in greater detail.

Step 0) BACK. UP. YOUR. SHIT.

NEVER EVER EVER CHANGE YOUR OPERATING SYSTEM WITHOUT A COMPLETE BACKUP OF ALL YOUR FILES.

Step 1) Learn your machine. You need to know:

How much RAM you have

If your processor is 32 or 64 bit

How big your hard drive is

On windows, you can find out all of this by going to the start menu, typing "about" and opening the first result on your system instead of the internet.

For additional instructions, visit this page.

Step 2) Pick your Linux.

There's like 10,000 kinds of Linux, each tailored to particular functions that the end-user (that is you!) might want to have. The sheer amount is very daunting, so first I'm going to give my suggestions, then I'll explain how to pick for yourself.

For Mac users, I suggest Kubuntu. For windows users, I suggest Mint Cinnamon. If your laptop is really REALLY old, I recommend Sparky Stable, which is the lightest weight Linux I would ever suggest for a new user. In every case, download the version suited to your processor (32 bit can be labelled "x86" or "32 bit"; 64 bit is always labelled "64 bit").

If you want to try a different type of linux, you'll need to make sure your laptop meets the "minimum specs" or "system requirements." These numbers tell you how much RAM, processor and hard drive space the linux will use. (That's why you needed those numbers at the beginning.)

Step 3) Collect your supplies. You're going to need:

An ISO burning program compatible with your current system, like Balena Etcher.

A copy of the ISO file for the Linux you want to use.

Your laptop.

An 8gb or larger USB flash drive.

Step 3) Make a bootable USB drive

Install Balena Etcher, hitting "okay" and "next" when prompted. Last I checked, Etcher doesn't have adware attached, so you can just hit next every time.

Plug your USB drive into the laptop.

Open Etcher.

Click "flash from file" and open the ISO file with your Linux on it.

Click "Select target" and open the USB drive location. Hit the "flash" button. This will start writing all the linux installer data to your flash drive. Depending on the speed of your machine, this could take as long as 10 minutes, but shouldn't be much longer.

Step 4) Boot to the USB drive

This is, in my opinion, the trickiest step for a lot of people who don't do "computer stuff." Fortunately, in a rare act of good will, Windows 10 made this process a lot easier.

All you'll need to do is go to settings, then recovery, then advanced startup and pick the button labelled "use a device."

This tutorial has images showing where each of those is located. It's considered an "advanced setting" so you may get a spooky popup warning you that you could "harm your system by making changes" but we're not doing anything potentially harmful so you can ignore that if you get it.

Step 5) Try out linux on the flash drive first.

Linux installs using a cool little test version of itself that you can play around in. You won't be able to make changes or save settings, but you can explore a bit and see if the interface is to your liking. If it's hideous or hard to navigate, simply pick a new linux version to download, and repeat the "make a bootable USB" step for it.

Step 6) Actually install that sucker

This step varies from version to version, but the first part should be the same across the board: on the desktop, there should be a shortcut that says something like "install now." Double click it.

Follow the instructions your specific linux version gives you. When in doubt, pick the default, with one exception:

If it asks you to encrypt your drive say no. That's a more advanced feature that can really fuck your shit up down the road if you don't know how to handle it.

At some point you're going to get a scary looking warning that says 1 of 2 things. Either:

Install Linux alongside Windows, or

Format harddrive to delete all data

That first option will let you do what is called "dual booting." From then on, your computer will ask every time you turn it on whether you want Windows or Linux.

The second option will nuke Windows from orbit, leaving only linux behind.

The install process is slower the larger your chosen version is, but I've never seen it take more than half an hour. During that time, most linux versions will have a little slideshow of the features and layout of common settings that you can read or ignore as you prefer.

Step 7) Boot to your sexy new Linux device.

If you're dual booting, use the arrow keys and enter key to select your linux version from the new boot menu, called GRUB.

If you've only got linux, turn the computer on as normal and linux will boot up immediately.

Bonus Step: Copy Pasting some code

In your new start menu, look for an application called "terminal" or "terminal emulator." Open that up, and you will be presented with an intense looking (but actually very harmless) text command area.

Now, open up your web browser (firefox comes pre-installed on most!), and search the phrase "what to do after installing [linux version you picked]"

You're looking for a website called "It's FOSS." Here's a link to their page on Mint. This site has lots and lots of snippets of little text commands you can experiment with to learn how that functionality works!

Or, if you don't want to fuck with the terminal at all (fair enough!) then instead of "terminal" look for something called "software manager."

This is sort of like an app store for linux; you can install all kinds of programs directly from there without needing to go to the website of the program itself!