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traeuthaeou · 18 days ago

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Jisu Life Technologies Inventyionopsis

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Heating and powering system and simple as air flood in and the systematic operations of the jet engine function as to stable safe output and heating and powering your outdoor tenting and events with A constant supply of heat and energy.

Our Mission to Innovate and Create Quality Produce and New Fashion Innovation and Technologies to assist in the supporting and residing with perfect accommodation and response to our legal legitimate need and upon the Thrones and Thrones it be as Quantity be our Promise seal and Loyalty to The Corporate Entity and whom Be and Our reason for existence. Government and Global Operations.

The World Bank's core mission is to end extreme poverty and boost shared prosperity on a livable planet. This is achieved through a variety of financial and technical assistance provided to developing countries. Specifically, they aim to reduce the percentage of people generating income less then average by 50 to 100% and promote the income growth of the newly founded United Planetary Nation of the United Planetary Nations State of Providence of Planetary Unity of Thearu in every country.

A Institution Company Corporation in all our affairs as A Hawkins Hopkins supporting Corporation A Company A Corporation an Institution Global United Servicing Planetary Entity of the Americas Ameriael Founded Based in Supporting Better Business and A Bettering United Planetary Alliance as we are an honest corporation with interest in global success and international trade and exchange and Foundation base of operations of corporations and institution or moral vale ethics and business affirmative affirmation as our mission and mission and or emissions statements As for some over all a combination of my written mission statement and corporation resources in One A + financial juggernaut pilot astronaut pioneer professional occupational exploration protection and security war and raw business moment maybe inspiration our vision to be on top listed planetary Exilaxy business as we practice and perfection daily production and moral ethics in character occupation. Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr

.traeuthaeou

ALLAHTREU TREUALLAH TRUE SCRAMBLED LANGUAGEOLOGISTBlaze

Post by @traeuthaeou · 3 images

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traeuthaeou

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

traeuthaeou

ALLAHTREU TREUALLAH TRUE SCRAMBLED LANGUAGEOLOGIST

Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr

Blaze

Johns Hopkins Homewood Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland The prestigious and sprawling Johns Hopkins University campus in Homewood is home to tree-lined paths, traditional redbrick architecture, and a landmark clock tower. The campus features the Shriver Hall Concert Series and the Baltimore Museum of Art, as well as popular Wyman Park, Wyman Park Dell, and Stony Run Trail. The surrounding area has many taverns and casual eateries popular with students.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 3 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 11 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 1 min · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins 4 mins · RAVENDOVE Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins was RavenDove - yin yin / yang RavenDove - yin yin / yang - COLD NUMB AND (LOVIEY DOVIEY) CALCULATED SPELL IT D or L Dove or Love maybe L or D Lover or Dover pythagorean numerology ABC123 Kauffman-Hawkins-Hawk or Hopk -H__kins aw or op and Hopkins signed Booper or just Boop not Book BUT LOKI OR BOOPER SAN with Blaze Pascal. with Terry Lee Hawkins ( male ) @ikigami shinigam HAWKINS HOKINSU/HOKINZU https://www.facebook.com/notes/terry-lee-kauffman-hawkins/bac-formula-racing-f3-series-bac-mission-statement/2296158727310875/ — feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. YES=Y=YES / NO=N=NO

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India, officially the Republic of India, is a country in South Asia. It is the seventh-largest country by area; the most populous country from June 2023 onwards; and since its independence in 1947, the world's most populous democracy. Wikipedia

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Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

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traeuthaeou

5m ago

YORK OR WORK HOSPITAL Y LETTER 15 W LETTER 23

The University of Maryland, Baltimore is a public university in Baltimore, Maryland, United States. Founded in 1807, it is the second oldest college in Maryland and comprises some of the oldest professional schools of dentistry, law, medicine, pharmacy, social work and nursing in the United States. Wikipedia

Avg cost after aid

––

Graduation rate

95%

Acceptance rate

––Graduation rate is for non-first-time, full-time undergraduate students who graduated within 6 years. They were the largest group of students (75%) according to the 2022–23 College Scorecard data ·more

From US Dept of Education · Learn more

Address:

620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Address: 620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Phone: (410) 706-3100

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traeuthaeou

2m ago

ALLAH STEP ONE .. GOD TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE NOT A TWELVE STEP LETTER A TO L PROGRAM AT JOHNS HOPKINS AND GOD OR DOG . CHIP HOUSE HUOJINSEN YOU AN ADULT I AM REPORTING TO YOU. H O U S E - H U O J I N S E N . HAWKINGSON TERRY LEE - SOBRIQUET BOOPER BOOPPER THEOS LOKI TEREMY

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

is with

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

May 9 at 4:48 PM

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Enoch Pratt Free Library

4.6301 Google reviews

Public library in Baltimore, Maryland

Description

The Enoch Pratt Free Library is the free public library system of Baltimore, Maryland. Its Central Library is located on 400 Cathedral Street and occupies the northeastern three quarters of a city block ... Wikipedia

Departments: Maryland State Library for the Blind and Print Disabled

Address: 400 Cathedral St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Architect: Edward Lippincott Tilton

Hours:

Open ⋅ Closes 8 PM · More hours

Opened: 1882

Phone: (410) 396-5430

Branches: 22

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Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

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regrettablewritings · 8 years ago

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How to Be a Good Catholic, Pt. II (Sonny Carisi x Reader)

A/N: Part 2 of my self-drag piece aka The Reason I’m Going to Hell! I’m sure I had more to say here but it is literally about to be 6AM~

@ohbelieveyoume and @xemopeachx (to the latter: Lower your expectations. Like, lower them so deep Satan’s demanding to know why you’re in his house and threatening to call the police on you.)

PART 1 HERE

5. Remember not to eat meat on Fridays during Lent

It was amazing how cravings worked: You could be perfectly fine, not want to eat anything in particular and just eat whatever simply because you needed nourishment to keep getting through the day. But the moment you’re told you can’t eat a certain something, no matter how often you may or may not eat it, it suddenly becomes all you can think about. That was what made Lent maddening for you as a child. It was as though the season held special powers beyond serving as a countdown for your lord and savior basically becoming a zombie: It could make you crave cafeteria nuggets like a junkie craved a fix. But considering that said zombie-savior got beaten, nailed to a cross, and was forced to wear a crown of thorns for you, abstaining from meat a couple of Fridays for 40 days was the least you could do besides doing nothing at all.

. . . But Zombie Jesus, it was so hard. In your youth, it was a bit easier because your packed lunches would always be checked over by your mom or dad to assure that it was up to Lenten approval. Sure, there was the occasional slip where you’d stop by the convenience store after school for a quick snack and all too eagerly buy a Slim Jim (was that even meat?). But for the most part, you did your due diligence as a good Catholic girl. Unfortunately, you were now a Catholic woman whose mommy and daddy’s involvement, at most, would maybe occasionally happen to call on Friday just to chat and then happen to mention what that day’s meatless meal had been. This, without fail, would always cause you to grit your teeth on the strip of bacon you’d been eating or lead you to utter an expletive muffled by the pepperoni Hot Pocket you’d microwaved to avoid cooking.

You always knew you could do better. Knew that you should do better. And yet, you never quite got anywhere, consoling yourself with the same thought every time the only options for dinner were between a can of Campbell’s chunky beef stew or air pudding: “It’s okay. You’re fine. God has bigger worries than if you’re eating mud-flavored soup alone in front of a TV playing reruns of Bridezillas a quarter to midnight. Just say two Hail Mary’s before bed.”

You were a little embittered about the fact that it took Sonny’s presence in your life to serve as a catalyst of sorts for improving upon yourself. Such a task should’ve relied on sheer will, not sheer guilt no matter how much of a part in the stereotypical Catholic’s life such a feeling played. But you figured guilt catalyst was better than none. After all, life was already hectic enough as is.

You grumbled this sad fact as you dug into your meal. It was hitting 8 o’clock, and this was the first meal you’d managed to catch all day. Work had been busting your butt with no time for a break. And snacking on vending machine munchables could only do so much. It was probably for this reason that your McNuggets tasted like Heaven instead of a travesty to your health. Like amateur food porn where it’s not what you wanted exactly, but the craving was so bad that you took the first legal, not entirely creepy-looking thing that you could get your hands and mouth on.

You were so deep into your pathetic relishing that you didn’t even notice that Sonny had come through the door, plastic bag in hand. It wasn’t until he’d actually spoken that you were broken out of your McNugget musing.

“Hey, Babe,” he greeted, taking off his shoes by the door. He heard you hum in response; your mouth was too full of fast food to reply with a vocal greeting. You heard him usher his way towards the kitchen, bag rustling by his side. “I got us veggie wraps from that place a few blocks do – ” The sudden stop made you turn to look at your boyfriend, who was now staring at you with brows quirked.

You smacked your lips as you swallowed. “What?” Sonny opened his mouth by a fraction, as if not entirely sure what words to use.

“You, uh . . . You do know that it’s Friday, right?” he finally replied.

“What?” This time, your own brows creased. “No it isn’t; it’s Thursday. I know it is because Mrs. Vatillo’s been blaring Dancing with the Stars all evening.”

“Ever heard of reruns, sweetheart?”

“. . . Ah, dammit!” you cried. You didn’t notice the half-eaten nugget pressed against your head as your hands flew to your face. It took the dipping sauce creating a notably cooler spot on your skin to notice the physical mess you made instead of just the mental one.

Sonny, on the other hand, watched will unadulterated amusement, only cutting in once you began berating your mistake.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it!” he insisted, holding his hand up to gesture a cease. “You made a mistake; happens all the time! Even I mess up my Fridays every once in a while. It’s fine, Babe.”

A muffled groan rippled in your throat. You weren’t sure if it was worth pointing out that he had points to spare while you didn’t.

“Besides,” Sonny continued, placing a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t think McNuggets is even real meat.” He chuckled as he heard your subsequent whimper waver with the sound of you finishing off the nugget.

6. Save yourself for marriage. The rules might’ve changed a bit, but it’s still preferable that you practice a healthy sense of abstinence

Okay, you at least had this one pretty down pat. And for that, you were quite proud. Maybe it was the romantic in you, but the idea of saving yourself for your spouse had always been extremely appealing to you. And considering the shifting feelings about premarital sex, you felt that made your efforts even more worthy of his or her admiration. Specifically, the “his” that you deep down desperately hoped was Sonny.

To no surprise of yours, he was quite accepting of you preferring to practice abstinence and even admirable of it. He always made sure to keep your boundaries in mind, particularly when you got handsy under the influence. He was quite fine if the extent of your shared physical affections meant making out. Hell, you were pretty certain that if the most you wanted was booping each other on the nose, Sonny would do it. He’s be perplexed, of course, but it wasn’t in him to be so judgmental of it: As an SVU detective and an overall decent man, consent and consideration ranked high on his list of importance in everything he did, relationship or not. That being said . . .

7. In fact, refrain from pre-marital actions of the flesh, be it heterosexual, homosexual, or solo

Abstinence didn’t mean the switch was turned off. It just meant that you were conserving energy until you found a reason for the room to be lit, so to speak in awful metaphors. And man, were there times when you thought, “That room could be put to good use – as a room to bang my handsome boyfriend in!” Of course, you restrained yourself out of sheer principle and will power. But at this rate, your will power was started to get buff.

And tonight, it was getting quite the workout: Sonny had offered to come over for simple, shared relaxation. Normally, this would’ve been fine. Normally, the two of you would order in and binge watch reality TV shows on Hulu until you passed out with some caresses and a few moments of making out in between. And normally, you weren’t feeling . . . . “special.” On the nights he did come over and you were feeling “special”, you could practice enough self-control to keep things at a maximum of maybe some grinding. (And even that wasn’t without some semblance of shame on your part to be honest, particularly after Sonny would gently suggest that the two of you stop before the grinding became closer to a skinship.) But tonight – and you didn’t know why – the Fornication Forces™ were inexplicably strong with you.

Maybe I should cancel, you processed, laying on the couch. You figured if you just set yourself down, maybe your body would recognize the position and realize how tired it was, rendering you too tired to try anything frisky. Really, though, the only thing you body was convincing itself at the moment was that this would’ve been a good position to do things in. Naughty things.

While one half of your mind was frantically trying to beat the hormonal thoughts back into the abyss, the other half was disagreeing with your previous suggestion. It had been a long week, and you and Sonny had barely seen each other, much less in an intimate manner that even included anything more than a peck on the forehead for parting ways. Besides, it wasn’t fair to Sonny if you dropped out just because you felt particularly needy. You just had to be a grown-ass woman and control yourself as you usually did.

In the midst of your inner pep talk, you figured that maybe a distraction would cool down the embers of eroticism within. Grabbing your laptop, you scoured YouTube for funny videos or informational ones in the hopes that they would serve as efficient enough distractions. It was through the inevitable connecting rabbit holes that is YouTube that you found yourself on the theater side of the site, where you came upon a title that you were certain would kill off the feeling for good.

“Leap of Faith,” you read aloud. Sounded Christian, sounded light-hearted and pure. Perfect! Nothing wiped away arousal like Christian theater, right? You selected a video offering clips of the performance . . . And almost immediately regretted it.

At least, that was what you were trying to tell yourself you ought to be feeling. But it’s hard to think straight while being captivated by the image of a handsome man with a great ass shake his hips in such a controlled yet somehow fluid fashion. It made you wonder what else those hips of his could do. Not helping was the bad boyish facial hair, the dangerous look in his (beautiful) eyes, those gorgeous locks, that fine physique, those arms, that literal Godsend of a voice, and good lord, nobody should be able to make a suit covered in disco glass look so deliciously good!

You tried to scold yourself, constantly pointing out that even if his character’s position as a man of God was false, it was bad enough to imagine the possible reverend kink you could imagine him having. But, to your immense dismay, the idea of sullying such a title made it disturbingly more tempting! The entire time you battled inwardly with your logic and your lust, your hand was taking advantage of your distracted state: little by little, it was moving closer and closer toward your pajama pants. In synchronization, little by little a ticklish warmth pulsed and glowed within your lower tummy and downward. By the time the reverend-devil of a man (devilrend?) was shown in that red jacket and leather pants, the elastic of your bottoms was being ushered to the side.

“The women I’ve seen are like a pinball machine,” he stated. “Push the right button and you score.” To clarify exactly what his simile had meant, his slender fingers curled in the air with a “come hither” motion. Oh, God what sins and blessings those fingers could commit . . . That seemingly simple gesture sent a blazing spark into your lower half, burning away at all sensibility and leaving only desire and a clear path to chase it down to completion –

Click.

Oh, shit.

You whipped your hand out of your pants so fast you nearly knocked yourself in the chest. As your door creaked open, you prayed that Sonny wouldn’t notice anything or pick up on the atmosphere you’d created for yourself, only to wind up wondering if it was appropriate to ask for God’s help when you were milliseconds away from making joyful noise.

Per the usual, as he took of his shoes, your walking sunshine greeting you with a warm, “Hey, Babe.” And per the usual, you responded right back. Only, not per the usual, your greeting was a bit trembly like a child nearly caught in the act of stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. Thankfully, Sonny was seemingly too tired to take note of this, making his way towards you.

In your state of being frazzled, you didn’t think quick enough to shut your laptop, allowing Sonny to be able to take a glance at the screen. In doing so, he was able to look upon your shame.

Brows furrowed, he said, “Huh. That’s weird . . . That guy looks an awful lot like Barba.” . . . What? You didn’t say it, but the look on your face certainly did. Able to recognize this, Sonny went on, “Yeah, look: Same facial structure, similar hair, about the same height . . . This guy dresses a little gaudier than him but yeah – dude looks a lot like Barba. I’nt that interesting?” He cracked a smile and went to head to the bathroom to wash up, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What was now seen could not be unseen, no matter how hard you rubbed the heels of your palms against your eyes. Why couldn’t you notice that before so that your girly boner would’ve died on the spot before this all began!? After making sure to close your laptop screen and set it gently on the coffee table away from where it would be most likely to become damaged, you slammed your face into one of the couch cushions and screamed as quietly as possible. Screaming, knowing that you almost got off to the prosecutor’s dramaturgical doppelganger and that you would never be able to look at Barba the same way again because of it. If only you had noticed this before, then maybe the overwhelming senses of embarrassment, horror, and confusion would not have burned even brighter than the feelings you’d had only moments before.

Needless to say, you could barely get through cuddling that night, completely turned off in every which way.

8. Above all else, aside from accepting Jesus as your Lord and Savior, just be a good person. The world is already so crappy, making it nicer out of the goodness of your heart is something that should be valued

Sonny watched wordlessly as you sat on the ground, arms reached out for his niece to toddle right into. He found himself smiling alongside the laughter the two of you shared as the chubby-legged child flopped herself against your chest. He never understood why you always insisted that you weren’t good with kids; as far as he was concerned, most kids had an almost immediate liking to you or, at the very least, were willing to approach you without must suggestion. He supposed it had something to do with how kind you looked and sounded. After all, that seemed to be one of the reasons his family invited you back over for yet another family dinner.

In the midst of you giving his squealing niece a raspberry on her tummy, Sonny heard Theresa call for you to come “hang around the big girls” for a change. Agreeing to the invitation, you scooped the toddler up into your arms and, mimicking the sound of an aircraft, gently zigzagged her through the air as you walked toward her watching uncle.

“This is your captain speaking, we welcome you to Sonnyville and hope you enjoy your stay,” you told the little girl amongst her coos of delight. Gingerly handing her over to Sonny’s waiting arms, you gently added in, “Might I recommend the cheek kisses, Little Miss? They’re my favorite!” One last teasing poke on her tummy and you went on your way to hang out with Sonny’s sisters, leaving the man himself on the couch with his niece. When Sonny noticed the toddler pouting and reaching out for your departing figure, he found himself chuckling, “Yeah, I like having her around, too,” before treating her to your highly recommended kiss on the cheek.

“I didn’t know you could knit.” The comment caused you to look up at your boyfriend. Despite having turned on the TV as soon as he’d taken his place beside you on the couch, he’d spent the last couple of minutes observing you. As you looked up from your project, your fingers kept moving without error. This suggested to Sonny that not only could you knit, but you were at least practiced in it enough to nearly do so in your sleep.

You blinked. “Well, you never asked. Plus, I haven’t done it in a long while.” You shrugged and looked back down to start a new row.

“Well, what made ya stop?” Sonny inquired. He liked learning things about you. Particularly, he liked learning things about you even if they were simple things. Things that could’ve been revealed earlier in the relationship.

You looked upwards in thought, knitting still. “Dunno. I think I just sorta fell out of it when life started getting too busy? I used to knit during my lectures in college – kept me awake and somehow alert – but then this one professor asked me to stop because it was causing a distraction. Which I think is total bullshit because absolutely no-one cared that I was knitting in a literature lecture.” You paused, recognizing that you were beginning to ramble. “But yeah; I just kinda stopped doing it for a while.”

Sonny nodded with understanding. “And you’re doin’ it now because you missed it?”

“Well, sorta. Liv told me about this one project the art museum is doing to raise awareness of abuse survivors: People are knitting and crocheting squares to be made into a big blanket. The idea is about not being alone and being covered with warmth of strangers who care. Each square and the elite involved in this thing will donate money to the Joyful heart Foundation. I thought it’d be a great idea and a great thing to do, so I found my old needles, stopped by the craft store, and got to work. Plus, knitting’s therapeutic.”

You smiled. “My goal is to have between 5 and 8 squares by the deadline in six weeks!” The amount of determination, in addition to the subtle glow you developed during your explanation of the project you were now a part of, caused Sonny to return the grin. Though his carried tones of being impressed. And of pride.

You never noticed, however, as you turned your attention to the TV. You continued to knit. And Sonny continued to watch you.

It was Friday night and Sonny was bushed. The week, while not necessarily as bad as others, had still beaten his ass with a case that had about as many twists and turns as the map of Candyland. If only the outlook for the pending trial were so sweet. Needless to say, Barba was going to have yet another chunk of his work cut out for him, meaning that tensions were going to be high for the coming week.

During exhausting days like this, there was nothing more that Sonny would have loved than a nice, hearty meal; maybe something from the deli. He found himself groaning alongside his stomach at the thought of such a treat, only to remember that it was a Friday and it was still the Lenten season.

Well, he thought to himself as he trudged his way up the stairs to his apartment. I guess I can just order the usual pizza and call it a night. As he got to his floor, Sonny found his previously drab and tired senses being stroked by a new, invigorating stimuli. Baked goods? Probably one of his neighbors. Must be nice; cakes sounded all too delightful right now. As he neared his own door, however, he began to realize and error in his previous assumption. The smell wasn’t coming from somebody else’s place: it was coming from his. That, and the sound of an oven door creaking open, bowls clattering, and the sound of the sink running.

Sonny wasn’t sure what to expect as he opened the door. Being ready to fight a baking burglar wasn’t how he thought his week would end but if that’s what was going on –

Between the two of you, Sonny was the better cook. You weren’t awful in the kitchen, Sonny was simply just divine by comparison. As such, the image of you dawning an apron splattered with patched of flour, powdered sugar, and your sleeves rolled up was a bit strange for Sonny to see. Adorable, no doubt about that, but different from how he usually saw you. You began to blush when you saw the man walk through the door, only adding to the cuteness.

“Crud,” you murmured. “I was sorta hoping you wouldn’t be back until a bit later . . . B-but don’t worry, I’m going to clean all of this, I promise!” The “all of this” being the mixing bowl, egg shell particles, and small piles of baked good ingredients marking his counter. Normally, Sonny was particular about his kitchen. But instead, he found himself concerned with something else.

“What’re you up to?” Sonny asked.

“Well, it’s, um . . . I know this week has been hard on you so I – ”

As if on cue, the egg-shaped timer you had set earlier dinged. Immediately, the stammering gave way to a person with the mission.

“Oh, good, it’s done! Wait here, I – no wait! Go wash up and change while I put the finishing touches on it!” you insisted. When Sonny didn’t move, confused as to the sudden shift, you groaned. “Come onnn!” you whined, scurrying behind him before nudging him toward his room. You tried to pay no mind to the laughing this coaxed from him, insisting that you needed it to be a surprise since he practically ruined it by coming home early.

“M’kay,” sighed Sonny as he emerged from the back. He felt somewhat better now, having had a shower and changed into his Fordham Law sweats. He couldn’t help but smirk as he came upon you, standing in front of the table in a manner that suggested you were shielding something. A huge smile dazzled your features, your hands curled and pressed together as if clasping the surprise within them.

“Okay, okay, so!” you exclaimed. “I know this week’s been tough on you. And I don’t want my Sonshine to dampen so I thought it’d be nice to cheer you up in any way possible. Sooooo . . .” You stepped to the side and gestured your hands Vanna White style. Only instead of letters, your presentation was something of far more use to Sonny: a large order of pizza from his favorite establishment. “Your favorite: Goat cheese and sundried tomatoes.” You threw in a cheeky eyebrow-arching to hype up the mood. However, judging by the way your boyfriend’s face lit up, it wasn’t necessary: The man was thrilled.

“Aw, you didn’t have to!”

“Ah, but I did. You know I’d do whatever I could to make you smile.”

Damn straight, Sonny thought. But as strong as his love for the pie was, the sugary smell present in the air overpowered him with curiosity.

“But, uh . . . As much as I love pizza, I’m almost positive that this wasn’t what you were up to when I walked in earlier, right?” he teased. This prompted a smirk from you.

“Right you are, my little-tall detective,” you joked right back. “So close your eyes.” He did as instructed. He heard the sound of your feet padding over to the oven, the screech of the machinery’s door opening and then closing, and then your voice saying that it was alright for him to look.

“Tadaaahhh!” you cheered, holding up your creation. To the average person, it might’ve looked like a regular vanilla sheet cake. Maybe a vanilla sheet cake with a hint of citrus. But Sonny knew that smell well enough to know better. Plus, the fleur de lis embossment in the powdered sugar was a giveaway.

Sonny licked his lips. “You made – ”

“Schiacciata alla Fiorentina!” you stated. You puffed out your chest with pride. “I phoned your mom the other day asking for any recipes you particularly enjoyed and she said this was a good way to cheer you right up. Plus, it’s good for the Easter season, right?”

Sonny wasn’t sure what made him inhale in delight more: the scent of the cake, or the very essence of you. As you stood glowingly, he gently took the pan from your hands and set it on the table. This left you confused before he ushered you into a hug. Embraces were nothing strange at all when in a relationship with Sonny Carisi. However, the type he was currently providing was one that didn’t come up as often: His cheek laying on the crown of your head, arms wrapped so tightly around you it was as if he was worried that you might fly away. You wanted to joke that he wasn’t leaving any room for Jesus between the two of you but decided against it. Instead, you chose to focus on everything else: The smell of his soap; the sound of his heart beating against your ear; how you could just make out the smile he was wearing against your head. But most of all, the intense feeling of complete, unadulterated adoration resonating from his being.

“I don’t deserve you. Y’know that?” he finally spoke. You scoffed against his chest.

“I should be saying that about you, you know,” you threw back.

“No,” Sonny insisted. “I mean it: I do all kinds of crap both in and out of my job. But then I get you and it’s like . . .” He trailed off. You took the opportunity to step in once again.

“Sonny, what you do in comparison to me (or rather, what I fail to do) makes me the lucky one. You’re great, you deserve the best.”

“And I got the best.”

“No, you got me.”

In that moment, the grip of his arms around you slacked before positioning themselves to push you away. Only enough for Sonny to take a good look at you, but still enough to make you recognize how warm you felt against him. The look on his face was stern; something you rarely saw Sonny be when it came to you.

“(Y/N),” he said with a gentle strictness. “I don’t know how long it’s gonna take before you realize that you’re not this godawful person or whatever it is you think you are. I work in SVU for God’s sake – you’re literally up for sainthood by comparison to the pieces of crap I encounter on a regular basis.”

“Well, yeah, but,” you meekly replied, “it’s easy for you to say that when you’re higher up on the scale – ”

“For cryin’ out loud, there is no scale! I don’t know what has ya convinced that there’s some Catholic hierarchy goin’ on but I can promise ya: there is none. And if there is, you’d be right up there on the higher levels.”

Your brows creased at the blond’s claim. “Dude, I suck as a Catholic: I don’t always go to services, I get prayers mixed up, I screw up with Lent, I – ”

“Are still a good person,” Sonny finished.

“. . . What?”

“You’re still a good person,” he repeated. “Look, religion, no matter what people say, isn’t a competition: You know there are plenty of crappy pastors and whatnot out there, so the idea that position determines anything is about as wobbly as a broken chair. But you know what God loves? Triers. Jesus wasn’t goin’ around banning people left and right for messin’ up – Mary Magdalen was a prostitute for cryin’ out loud.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You weren’t sure how you felt about being compared to a prostitute, fellow follower of Jesus or not. Sonny bit his lip, noting that you hadn’t taken to that last sentence as well as he’d hoped. But he tried yet again:

“I know ya may think I’m this ‘incredible Catholic’ or whatever it is ya think I am, but it’s easy to think that because you’re comparing yourself. Ya really don’t give yourself enough credit, though. (Y/N), ya knit blankets for abuse survivors; ya do things without being asked; and hey, children have weird senses about people, so my niece liking ya can’t be wrong!” (This provoked a smile from you; a good sign.)

“And if you’re really that convinced that you’re ranked behind some creep just because he has a collar on, that to me, that’s a bigger mistake than messing up grace. Because if God can love this goofball who messes up all the time, then I sure as hell can, too. And I sure as hell do.”

At that last sentence, the cold you’d been reintroduced to upon separation from Sonny’s torso resumed. And boy, did it resume with a vengeance. You should’ve known how much blushing could feel like burning and yet, the flooding within your face was overwhelming. Not helping, of course, was that notoriously blissful smile Sonny wore, even as you pressed your face against his chest as if to soothe the sensation.

As if recognizing how flustered he’d made you, you heard his chest rumble: “Especially if they buy me pizza and come to my place just to make me a cake!” The vibrations of him talking were followed with those of him laughing upon hearing a muffled pouting demand that he shut up.

You were too precious. And how could anyone be disappointed in that?

#lookit this longass bastard!!#21 pages in total with part 1!!#and all for this crap #*eyes ending* I don't really like you . . . but I'm too tired to fix you #here goes nothing anyway #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi imagines #dominick carisi x reader #carisi x reader #svu imagine #svu imagines #law & order svu imagine #law & order svu imagines #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu imagines #Regrettablewritings

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