#bow making tutorials

[epicdogymoment]

twisting ft. @miodiodavinci's SALVADOR Auto Recovery

credits under the cut

original, instrumental by They Might Be Giants

UST, tuning, mix, art by @epicdogymoment

[dorky-fox]

Day 9: Fashion 🧵🪡

[craftyladybug]

Easy hair bow tutorial 🪡

[anielskaaniela]

Fabric Bow DIY Tutorial: 3 Charming Styles Free Patterns

In this post, you will learn how to make 3 types of fabric bows with free patterns. Welcome to the delightful world of DIY crafts! Today, we’re diving into the charming art of fabric bow making. Whether you’re a seasoned crafter or just starting out, this guide is designed to make creating cotton bows a breeze. With my free fabric bow patterns, you’ll learn how to craft three distinct styles of…

[blumineck]

What's wrong with this bow, and why does it hurt my soul?

Make sure you know which way around your bow is meant to go!

Patreon for tutorials, art refs, and more!

[autism-corner]

the girllies are done!!! YAYY

[infernalhomo]

autism moment but i just had a meltdown because i can't tie a ribbon into a bow. I was trying to figure it out, but could only find tutorials that 'draw the rest of the owl'-ed the relevant bit i needed ("how to tie a bow")

& i was getting frustrated, so my mother got involved, except i'd already lost speech, so i couldn't explain the bit i was stuck on and why i was mad, so she just kept trying to show me how to do it the way i already do it (the Wrong Way), so i blew up. and now i feel bad. :(

[dreambowsuk]

Making hair bows 😍

[kxsagi]

hihihi~!

i really love your work and had a request to see if it was possible!

what’s your thoughts on bllk men if they were a girl dad? of course, they would be aged up. do you think they’ll do awesome or completely struggle with their daughter?

i just love girl dads, they’re so cute. i love bllk, too. so, why not put them together? <3

if you can do that, you’ll make my day!

“𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐚”

a/n: hi, this idea is so wholesome, i love the fluff!!!

i absolutely live for the daughter effect

(art credits go to kisa0813 on X)

ft. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, barou shoei, mikage reo, kaiser michael

isagi yoichi – “will try his absolute best but is also stressed 24/7”

reads every parenting blog and book he can get his hands on like it’s soccer film. 

cries the first time she says “dada.” 

overly worried about her crawling near anything mildly dangerous. “is that corner too sharp?? is the floor too hard???”

can braid hair decently now, but he watches a tutorial every time. 

tried to play soccer with her once. she picked flowers instead. he proudly kept them in his wallet for weeks. 

dad rating: 8/10 (competent, but emotionally overwhelmed).

nagi seishiro – “lady dad turned ultimate softie”

thought being a dad would be too much work… until she fell asleep on his chest once. now she has him wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. 

lets her paint his nails. also lets her put stickers on his face. doesn’t flinch. 

he carries her on his shoulders all the time. even when she’s like 9. 

naps together = sacred bonding time (his love language as well). 

doesn’t know how to say no, so his daughter gets whatever she wants. 

dad rating: 10/10 (shockingly incredible and a natural, chillest girl dad on the planet).

bachira meguru – “chaotic good dad”

teaches her how to climb trees and paint murals on the walls (with washable paint… sometimes). 

she has glitter in her hair and so does he. always. 

they make up silly dances in the living room. matching pajamas. karaoke battles. 

lives for being called “her favorite person.” 

tells her monsters aren’t scary because she’s scarier, and she believes it. 

dad rating: 11/10 (she’s a menace just like him and they’re thriving).

itoshi rin – “emotionally constipated but trying so hard”

very awkward at first. holds her like she might explode. 

eventually becomes her quiet protector. she doesn’t need words when he’s around. 

learns to tie pigtails with surgical precision. might not talk much, but he’s very present. 

when she gets older and gets her heart broken, he will hunt the boy down. 

secretly lets her paint his nails black. she says he looks “cooler” that way. 

dad rating: 7/10 (emotionally struggling, but loves her more than anything). 

itoshi sae – “cool dad but unbothered until she calls him out”

acts chill, but his daughter has him clocked. “you act like you don’t care, but you bought me five outfits for one field trip, dad.” 

drives her to school with sunglasses on. she still holds his pinky. 

always says “no” to tea parties… until she calls him “sir sae of the pink palace.” then he pulls up in a crown. 

gives subtle but powerful advice. “you’re already better than anyone who doubts you.” 

dad rating: 9/10 (low effort, high impact. she’s his favorite person but he’ll never admit it out loud).

barou shoei – “terrifying to everyone but her”

she has a bow in her hair and he has matching scrunchies on his wrist. he pretends he doesn’t like it. 

yells at anyone who makes her cry. teachers. kids. possibly clouds. 

makes her eat vegetables. makes them look like her favorite animals first. 

draws a lion on every lunchbox note. sometimes it says “roar today” in all caps. 

once attended a ballet recital in a full suit. cried when she did a spin. 

dad rating: 10/10 (terrifying dad, softest girl protector ever).

mikage reo – “spoils her endlessly and unapologetically”

designer baby clothes. baby yoga. a mini sports car she doesn’t even know how to drive. 

makes flashcards to teach her 3 languages before age 4. 

will throw her a birthday party that costs more than a wedding. 

but if she says she’d rather have a picnic with him? he’s packing snacks in 2 seconds. 

wants her to know she can do anything, even if it means letting her “do his makeup” for 2 hours straight. 

dad rating: 9/10 (rich, extra, but devoted as hell).

kaiser michael – “wants to win best dad award… but needs help”

overly confident at first. “this’ll be easy, i’m amazing with kids.” drops the pacifier on the first try. 

secretly has parenting books hidden in his bathroom. will never admit he cried at a lullaby. 

tries to teach her german before she can even talk. 

his daughter tells him to stop showing off when they’re at the park. 

gets offended when she says “mommy’s stronger.” 

dad rating: 6.5/10 (trying his best, needs some humbling. but he does love her to pieces). 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[bubbleggum444]

—❝LO۷ESTⱤUCK FAN❞

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 damian wayne x fem!reader, youtuber!reader au, fluff, 2k+ wc.

𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 now that you've started accepting fan mail, damian jumps at the chance to send you something (though, honestly, he’d send himself if he could). pt 2 of "unexpected crush?!" (@liabiamiakiawia hope you like it 🫶🏻) pt 3.

No. Freaking. Way.

Was this a dream? A hallucination? Some cruel trick of the mind?

There was no way she actually posted her address. But as he blinked at the screen, rereading the words for the hundredth time, the reality hit him like a Batarang to the chest:

"Accepting fan gifts/letters! Address & city number: xxxxx. Can't wait to see what my luvies gift me :)"

His heart stopped. Then restarted at double the speed.

He. Was. Ecstatic.

Well—ecstatic in a very Damian Wayne, son of an assassin and the Dark Knight, kind of way.

A normal person might be pacing, grinning, maybe even screaming into a pillow. But Damian? He just sat there, staring at the screen, his grip tightening on his phone as his brain raced a thousand miles per second.

This was huge. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The only chance he’d ever have to send her something, something meaningful—something that would make her smile.

Immediately, he started skimming through her videos, mind buzzing with possibilities. What did she like? What did she need? What could he give her that would stand out from the rest?

Something perfect. It had to be perfect.

After intense (possibly obsessive) research, he finally settled on three things:

1. A Beauty of Joseon skincare set—not that a face as flawless as hers needed skincare. If anything, the skincare needed her.

2. A cute hairclip set—he remembered her gushing over some in a video. Hers were old, but she hated overconsumption, always mindful of her brand collaborations (another thing about her that made his heart do weird things: her caringness for the planet).

3. Some top-tier Chinese makeup—only the best for her.

His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he saw the total.Just a casual $1K. Nothing much for a Wayne.

Then again… if she asked, he'd get her the moon and stars. Nothing was ever too much for her. Ever.

By the time he finalized his list, it was nearly noon. And by the time he finished hunting everything down in-store, it was noon.

Now, back in his room, Damian sat cross-legged on his floor, staring at the disaster zone of wrapping paper around him.

He exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up as he crumpled yet another piece of pink wrapping paper—now a casualty of way too much tape—and chucked it aside.

This was so new to him. He barely ever gave gifts, and even when he did, Alfred was the one who wrapped them.

With a sigh, Damian pulled out his phone and searched, How to wrap gifts (EASY and pretty).

Following the tutorial with painstaking precision, his thoughts started to wander.

It wasn’t like he was an idiot. After a full week of stubborn denial, he’d finally accepted it—he had a crush. A real, actual crush on a girl he’d never even met.

And honestly? That annoyed him. Apparently, there was some illness where people obsessed over their favorite celebrities or internet personalities.

But he wasn’t sick! Sure, there were plenty of things wrong with him—a packaged deal that came with being the son of his parents—but this? This wasn’t an obsession. And he was definitely not a stalker.

He just... really liked this girl.

Pausing mid-task, he set down the half-wrapped package and reached for a pen and paper.

"Dear ___,My name is Damian Wayne. I'm a teen from Gotham..."

Hours passed—writing, re-writing, crumpling papers, fixing the bow on the package that would soon be crossing oceans.

Finally, Damian collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He sighed.

Please let this work.

Sitting up, he picked up the now perfectly wrapped gift box, his fingers absentmindedly tracing along the frilly bow.

And then, without thinking, he brought the box to his lips, pressing a light kiss against it.

Oh. Oh.

A wave of déjà vu hit him— reminding him of the air-kiss he tried to catch through his laptop screen a week prior.

For a second, he just sat there, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before he scoffed softly at himself.

Damian Wayne had officially lost. He liked her. Like liked her.

And now, all he could do was hope—pray—that this box, this dumb little package of gifts, would somehow, someway, connect them.

Maybe. Just maybe. Something real would come out of this stupid crush.

"Tch… emotions suck."

He laughed under his breath, though there was no real bite to his words.

Setting the package on his bedside table, he turned off the light and crawled into bed.

Tomorrow, he’d send it.

And then? He’d wait.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

𝑏𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑢𝑚444©

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

[mariasont]

Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?" 

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

--

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 

He decided this was his new lucky tie. 

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[luvzpagie]

goofy!kk arnold x goofy!reader hc

- ok first off you guys are always making stupid ass tiktoks. one of you guys are always asking eachother other to do one with another.

- “baby we should do this tiktok right now” kk said basically shoving the phone in your face. i imagine it being something like this and she’d be hella handsy with it too,or even that trend when you recreate poses LMFAO.

- speaking of tiktok its too many tiktoks of you guys dancing, best hype man ever. this girl is practically screaming “aye” when you start dancing.

- “AYEE, period baby keep going!!”

- don’t get me started on when she start doin her “bow bow bow” dance, you’d be right behind her doing some crazy shit too. and the team would not beat amused.

- “oh my gosh, they at it again” ice sighed, shaking her at yall bs.

- y’all definitely did the “grabbin on my shirt trend” kk would be a little confused at first then start turning up with you.

- “bae what the hell-”and this girl just immediately get hype.

- whenever kk is on live, you right there on live with her. even if you doing something else she always finding a way to put you in it.

-“okay yall so my girlfriend finna show yall how to..” kk said doing her lil smacking noise, and you go right along with her.

-“boom you gotta add a little bit of powder and not much or it’s gonna look pale and cakey” you explained giving the live a makeup tutorial. while kk smiling on side admiring you.

- and if you’re not doing that you just end up singing for them, kk encouraging u in the background.

- “ou yall my baby ate it up”.

- the team forever on look out when you two are out together, y’all somehow find a way to get into something.

- “wheres kk and y/n ??”

• and y’all just pop out of nowhere with the most ridiculous and random ass hat or coat on.

- to finish it off, you guys are always taking silly ass pics together and post them on your page.

• i get vibes that y’all would post something like this or kk would post evil 0.5s of you.

- and everyone just eats it up and loves and adores yall relationship.

❦.

kk is literally my baby, and my twin.

hope yall enjoyed. PLEASE give feedback !

mwah.

[cameronspecial]

Soft!Reader tying a bow to Rafe’s biceps 🤭🎀 (he acts all tough but he secretly loves it hehe)

Bow

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

Summary: Y/N has a new hobby that she loves to use to decorate everything.

Masterlist

Tying ribbon to everything has become Y/N’s new obsession. She spends hours going to different craft stores with Rafe in tow to look at every single option, leaving them with multiple rolls that have caught her eye. Rafe would go to sleep and wake up to every possible thing decorated with a bow, all because his girlfriend found a tutorial on how to make the perfect bow. Her purse. Her hairbrush. The fridge handle. The TV remote. His car keys. His backpack. They are all adorned in various styles of ribbons. He even finds one on the flip lid of his passenger seat’s mirror. Eventually, she runs out of places to add her ribbons and Rafe can tell it dampens her mood.

They are currently at Topper’s house. The boys are working out, while Y/N occupies her time by bow-ifying the workout equipment in Topper’s home gym. “Hey, Y/N/N. Is it really necessary to put it on everything?” Topper inquires, regretting it as soon as he sees her smile fall and Rafe’s glare. Her gaze falls with a frown, “No. It’s not. I’m sorry. I can take them down.” She picks up her scissors and uses them to remove her ribbons, making sure to preserve the bows. She is putting everything in her purse when the boys join her on the couches. Rafe throws a sweaty arm around her shoulders to bring her to his side. She shrieks and pulls away from her boyfriend’s hold. She turns towards him, catching a look at the way his thick biceps glisten because of the sweat and light. Her intrusive thoughts win and she wraps a pink sparkly ribbon around his arms. He freezes under the pressure with his eyebrows knitted together. “What are you doing?” he grumbles. She tugs the loops of the bow before moving on to his other arm, “All prizes have a ribbon to show that they are the winner. I’m giving your most prized possession what they need.” His hardened gaze doesn’t let up as he looks at the glitter now falling on his skin. “This is ridiculous, Baby,” he complains, taking his arm out of her hands.

Again, her eyes fall to the ground and he can feel her insecurity creeping in. “What I mean is the thought of my arms being my most prized possessions is ridiculous because that title belongs to you, Baby,” he clarifies, taking the ribbon out of her hands to give her a headband and kissing her forehead once he finishes. “Now, we are matching.” She gazes up at him with a smile. He isn’t going to lie to himself. He loves the ribbon wrapped around his bicep. It is giving him an ego boost that his girl thought they were nice enough to be decorated. “I love it. Thank you, Rafey,” she whispers. An objection can be heard coming from Topper, “Excuse me. I think I deserve a ribbon for my obviously superior pythons."

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[wifunozomi]

💐The lads men making bouquets for their s/o💐

Requested prompt 😩

Warnings: just fluffy wholesome vibes but a bit of injuries here and there. I’m still new to the game so I don’t have all the guys personalities down. I’m so sorry😭

Caleb

- yall can’t fight me on this, this man has been gifting you any flowers he would find since YALL WERE KIDS

- like I’m talking about, daisy’s picked by hands like after he’s done playing soccer or something. Sees them and starts picking

- has a handful by the time he’s home and is just like “ here you go” and hands you a small thing of daisies and some grass thrown in there

- BIG BOI Caleb, he’s stressing

- he’s just so used to picking flowers for you, randomly. That actually making the bunch and organizing everything and the bow. BRO IS STRESSED

- He ends up making this :

- of course!!! He putting daisies in there, HE HAS TO REMIND U HES BEEN THERE SINCE DAY 1 😈

Zayne

- guys come on nowww, he watches as Caleb hands you his freshly picked daisies. YOU CANT TELL ME THIS MAN HADN’T ALREADY BEAT HIM TO IT

- I can’t see him as the type to pick any flower or a bunch, i personally think he would pick a single flower, the prettiest one for the prettiest girl🙈

- so THIS DUDE is stressing at work while trying to make this god dam bunch, is definitely doing them in between appointments

- he’s VERY much sneezing from all the pollen, bless you mi bio

- ends up making you this, with of course some candy in there 🍬 :

Rafayel

- he witnessed you admiring some flowers 1 time. BOOM inspiration!!

- originally was just planning to paint you something flowers but he realized it wasn’t enough so… PLUS it’s an art form, I mean seriously how hard can it b-

- he had to look up a YouTube tutorial.

- yes he does end up getting a cut here and there, definitely a huge mess and a bit of sneezing too by the end of it BUT he does it👐

- what he ends up with :

Xavier

- Mans was frustrated and was absolutely taking it out on the video game he was on playing

- he tried making cookies for you buuuuttt ended up causing a small ( the fire department was called ) fire

- he ends up thinking if he can’t make you food HE CAN GATHER SOME FLOWERRRSSS

- definitely the chillest of all the guys,this is like a puzzle piece to him. Absolutely vibing making this for you.

What he made for you:

Sylus

- this man buys you stuff like ALL THE TIME, he’s bought you flowers before expensive one too☝️

- BUT the twins did bring up a good point of “ we’ll have you ever made her something” He froze… like a deer in headlights🧎‍♂️

- he orders the team to gather the materials

- he starts crafting right away, pieces of things are flying everywhere. He’s using his Evol to hold things and arrange them. knowing exactly how he wanted it arranged . Luke and Kieran sit behind the couch making paper origami while the bird watches them.

- FINALLY it is done, he gets 2 thumbs up from the twins and a happy CAWK🐦‍⬛

The results :

[sweetshuga]

𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝟪 ✧ 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

𝒘𝒄. 𝟨𝟦𝟤

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔⚠ fluff, low-key a cooking tutorial, cowgirl & leaning cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, strong language.

Chris loved your cooking. He loved watching you do your thing in the kitchen and he especially loved helping you out. Today, you two decided to cook together one of your faves—creamy carbonara. "Alright, the pastas cookin’, y’need any more help ma?" You smiled, leaning closer and pecked his lips, "can you grate the cheese please?" Chris’ smile widened when you pecked his lips, a soft adorning look in his eyes as he nodded and started doing as told.

Your gaze occasionally left the skillet to your boyfriend, the concentrated look on his face, the way he furrowed his eyebrows and the slightly parted lips combined made you feel... aroused. You groaned internally at how easily turned on you were when it came to Chris, everything he did seemed to make your undies soak with arousal. Biting your bottom lip subtly at the side as you shifted your gaze back to the skillet, quickly adding the egg yolks to the whole milk.

"Here ya go, one plate of grated cheese for m’lady." Chris dramatically bowed as he handed you the plate of grated parmesan, making you laugh. You barely suppressed your giggles as you took the plate, playfully lifting your imaginary gown at the side while bowing. Chris chuckled heartily, enjoying how you matched his energy. You added the cheese, seasoned the sauce and put in the sautéed pork.

A wide grin still on your face as you drained the water from the spaghetti before adding it to the sauce, mixing it all together. "Mhm, lookin’ delicious as always, love your cookin’ as much as I love you." You grinned, "oh, ain’t you in a flirty mood today? been hitting me up all evening." He grinned wider at your words, "mm, what can I say... you’re lookin’ as delicious as the carbonara, might need a taste of you afterwards yeah?" his voice dropped an octave—betraying his arousal.

"mffh—yeah, fuck, just like that... o—h fuck yeah ma, bounce on that dick." Chris moaned lowly as you rode him, his eyes heavy-lidded and full of desire as he gazed up at your tits bouncing with you. His hands snaked up and groped your tits, his thumbs and index fingers tweaking and pulling at your nipples. The feeling made you clench around him as profanities left your lips.

"Chris, ohh—Chris feels so good," you moaned, throwing your head back as you rode him faster, almost desperate for more, but soon enough your thighs ached from exertion. Chris took notice of your hips slowing down and immediately gripped them tightly. You looked at him with a dazed expression, confused at the sudden pressure on your hips from how tightly he was gripping them.

Just as you were about to say something Chris started to thrust up, slowly at first, but even in a languid pace you could feel him kissing your cervix. You moaned his name, his hands left your hips to help you down so you were laying on him before gripping your ass possessively. Your vision blurred with tears of pleasure when he started to pound into you from below.

"Y’feel so good baby, oh fu—ck, like that– fuckin’ suffocate my cock," he groaned loudly as he felt your inner walls flutter and clench tightly around his pistoning shaft, your body warning him for your impending orgasm. Chris quickly withdrew one of his hands from your backside and drew tight rapid circles on your soaked clit.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders as you cried out in pure ecstasy when the pressure finally broke in you. The feeling of your spasming pussy was enough to make him fill you up. "Oh fuck, I’m cummin’ inside... fillin’ you up," he mumbled shakily as he held you close, his hips jerking as he shot out rope after rope of hot cum right into your welcoming cunt.

𓆩♡𓆪

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© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒂

[kumkaniudaku]

TBT

Summary: A young Terry and Patrice spend a Christmas morning together.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: None. Just some holiday fluff.

Previous: Merry Christmas, Baby

A/N: I love this one so much. I hope you enjoy too.

The coldest Christmas in recent history was no match for the overwhelming heat Terrence felt beneath his thick winter sweater as nervousness crept into his chest. The low purr of his uncle’s Honda slowly disappeared into the bitter afternoon chill, leaving him no other option but to press the doorbell to the Ellis home and pray for entry. 

Weeks of planning, sneaking, and tutorial-watching had gone into this mission. Heavy convincing and a shoddy handshake agreement to throw a couple of dollars his uncle’s way for gas had him snatching a poorly wrapped package from beneath the tree and hopping into Uncle Myron’s front seat before his parents could ask any further questions. 

His hands felt wet and slippery under the warm pecan pie he’d begged his mother to make for reasons he wouldn’t share the night before. His heart raced as he carefully adjusted the pretty orange bow on top of a covered box, suddenly nervous about how it looked. She deserved nothing less than perfection and he’d labored over careful folds and clean lines to deliver her his best. 

Rustling and a voice growing louder as it approached made him stop short before he could press the doorbell again. He quickly pulled at his coat and stood a little taller as her father appeared behind a glass storm door.

“Oh! It’s just you Terry. Thought you might’ve been my sister. Merry Christmas, son. You gettin’ big, boy. You benching ‘bout 250 now huh?” 

Terry smiled bashfully. “Yeah, I am. Tryin’ to bulk up a little before Spring.”

“You doin’ it. Next time I see you, you gon' be bigger than me. What you got there?” 

Terry blinked twice, trying to think through a response as Mr. Ellis stared back at him before finally sputtering out a response. “A-a pie! Sorry. It’s a pie from my mama. She sent me over here to drop it off and say Merry Christmas.”

“And that,” Mr. Ellis asked pointing at the gift adorned in the pretty orange bow.

“A gift for Patrice. Is she home? I know she said she would probably be at the store with her mom, but I can wait. Or I-I cou-”

“Calm down,” Mr. Ellis laughed as he stepped aside with the door pushed open wider than before. “She’s in here helping her mama set the table. Come on. She’ll be happy to see you.”

A deep breath that created a white cloud in front of his face calmed Terry’s nerves as he moved past Patrice’s father into the house. He didn’t need directions past the wall of family photos, down the hallway, and into the living area. In four years, he’d spent entire days lazing around that house. He’d shared Sunday dinners at her kitchen table, taken naps on her bedroom floor, and played video games with her younger brother on the living room couch. This was as much his hang-out spot as his own house in his mind. 

Christmas music crackled and popped from the worn record player on a bookshelf full of Black literature, the object flanked by his two favorite photos of Patrice. He gave the framed memory of her fifth birthday party a glance and a soft smile like he usually did before making his way into the kitchen. 

“Baby Girl and Ros, the Richmond boy brought us a pie this morning,” Leon announced on his way through the living room and out of the back door to return to his turkey frying duties.

“A pie! How sweet!” Terry’s introduction made Patrice whip her head around to get a look at her surprise visitor. He offered her a small wave and smile that she returned as Rosalyn approached to give him a warm hug. “Look at you! Have you gotten taller since the school year started?” 

Rosalyn had watched Terry grow from a boy into a young man. Once lanky, slender arms now carried budding muscles and extra weight. The first fuzz of facial hair carefully shaved per his father’s instructions left light shadows. His voice was deeper and smoother than the once cracking alto of his youth. Changing mannerisms had him looking more sure of himself. His development alongside Patrice’s presented further reminders that the only thing certain in this life was the passage of time. She’d never be prepared but embraced it all the same. 

“A little bit. Think I’m at 6’3” now,” Terry boasted, smiling at the newest adjustments in his measurements.

“Six-three! I know your mama can’t keep a lick of food in the house,” she laughed. “You made your decision on college yet?” 

“Not yet. Still considering trying to walk on at A&T. I feel like I’ll like it there.”

Rosalyn smiled, knowing the reason for his switch from UNC Chapel Hill. “Well, that’s good. You and Patrice work well together. You can keep each other on track.” 

“I keep myself on track, mama. Terry too when his head gets all up in the clouds.” 

“She helped me study one time and now she think she my teacher.” 

“You a one-time lie and you know it.” 

Terry’s infectious toothy grin spread to Patrice from across the room, creating a spark almost tangible enough for Rosalyn to reach out and grab. She noticed the emergence of shy glances and extra physical contact where senseless bickering once lived. Knees that occasionally touched while they watched movies on the couch were now shoulders pressed tightly together in the backseat after school without shame. When they weren’t in the same room, cell phones remained pressed to listening ears as they ran down chats about everything and nothing at the same time. Their trajectory was clear. 

More conversations about hormones, love, and the perils of unprotected sex than Rosalyn could count had been passed down individually and as a pair with no care for their obvious discomfort. Both sets of parents could only pray that their children retained at least some information to use when the inevitable took place.

“So, the pie,” Rosalyn pointed out, cutting through the open display of affection. “What kind is it? Smells good!” 

Terry blinked twice to pull his eyes away from Patrice to look at her mother. “Uh, pecan. My mama’s special recipe.”

“Really! That’s Patrice’s favorite. What a coincidence.” 

Terry’s ears slowly turned red as he tried to laugh off Rosalyn’s observation. She winked at him and pulled the dessert from his hands, careful to return the gift on top before making her way to the food table.

Patrice nervously shifted her weight as she leaned against the counter for her first break of the morning, now hyperaware of how her body looked with a set of blue-green eyes following her every move. 

They’d matched unintentionally. Terry’s red sweater complimented Patrice’s white one with both teenagers sporting black bottoms to top off festive looks. Searching for something, anything to say, Patrice pointed at his head. 

“You decided to stop growing your hair out?” 

Terry ran a hand down the back of his fresh fade. “Yeah. My dad was on me about it. Said I looked like a hoodlum. I don’t even know what that means but I guess I don’t really need the extra cushion for the helmet now anyway.”

“Well, my opinion probably doesn’t matter, but I think it looks nice. I’ll miss the widow's peak, though. It was cute.” 

A twinkle of happiness flashed across Terry’s eyes, making his cheeks rise into a proud smile. The haircut was staying. No doubt about it.

“Thank you,” he spoke quietly, still processing the tingles rolling across his body. “You, um…you want some help? My mama showed me how to set a table. Fork on the left, right?” 

Rosalyn watched the pair watch each other with a knowing smile on her face as Terry took slow steps across the kitchen toward Patrice. He didn’t come there to set the table for a family he didn’t belong to. He came to spend a few minutes of stolen time with the only person worth existing in his small world. 

She stopped him before he could get too far. “That’s sweet of you, baby, but I don’t need too many people in my kitchen. P, you can take him to your room. You know to leave that door open. Don’t have me come back there and I can’t see what y’all are doing.”

Neither Terry nor Patrice needed the reminder but ensured they showed their understanding with head nods and verbal agreement. They’d been down this road plenty of times. Leave the door half open, answer when called, and keep your hands to yourself. The first two were easy. Resisting the desire to touch became more difficult as the days flew by. 

Patrice led the way down the hallway toward her room, making small talk before holding the door open for him to enter. The sunny orange and yellow motif hadn’t changed much since they hung out for the first time. Posters and photos of her favorite artists still lined the wall beside her bed. The sunflower plushie she called Sunny rested in its usual spot at the top of her dresser. His favorite spot in the house, a soft yellow beanbag, was empty and awaiting his arrival. He took a deep breath to inhale the birthday cake candle she kept burning on her nightstand before sliding his shoes and coat off to place them in their designated spot. 

She kissed her teeth as she flopped on the bed. “You gon’ stop havin’ your toes out in here.” 

“I should start charging you. People would pay good money to see these. Even in socks!”

“Oh yeah right. People like who? That Cierra girl in 11th grade?” 

“Here you go,” Terry groaned from his spot on the bean bag. He flipped through a random magazine beside him to avoid eye contact. “I don’t like that girl. We just hang out because Xavier talks to her friend and he be needin’ back up sometimes.”

“No way. She was wearing your jacket.”

“She took my jacket out of Zay’s car to be funny and I got it back as soon as I could find her.”

“Say swear.”  

The ultimate test. Saying swear was their way of ensuring the other was telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. 

Terry looked up from the pages of Seventeen Magazine to look Patrice in the eye and confirm his statement. “Swear. She kinda annoying, honestly. Nice girl, but all she ever wants to talk about is reality TV and school drama.” 

“Ooooh. Terry likes a little substance in his conversations, huh,” Patrice laughed, exaggerating her words to mimic their creative writing teacher. “Let me find out you’re out here discussing Of Mice and Men without me. I’m gonna have to put my hands on you.” 

Terry scoffed at her threat. “Yeah, right. Plus, you talk about stuff without me all the time. I heard about you and Robert Mitchell kickin’ it after winter formal.” 

“That’s not what happened!” 

“Let me know what happened then.”

It was Patrice’s turn to explain herself. What started as a night between mixed friend groups turned into Terry sneaking looks at his best friend while she engaged with a guy that he frankly didn’t think was smart enough for her. He’d never share how it made him feel outside of light jabs to be annoying. 

He waited for her to stop chewing her bottom lip and respond. 

“Rob doesn’t like me. He just wanted to see if he could convince me to sneak off with him to the parking lot which I didn’t do. So he left me alone and I rode back with Vicky to spend the night. Nothing to see there, as always.” 

Terry took in her truth with equal parts sadness at the circumstance and anger at the young man bold enough to cause her pain.

“Dang, Treece, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it went like that. Want me to talk to him?” 

Patrice adjusted to sit in front of Terry at the edge of the bed. She kicked her feet as she played with her painted thumbnails. “No. I wasn’t even supposed to tell anybody. Plus, we both know that you don’t talk. Don’t need you getting in trouble because of me. Thanks, though.” 

“You don’t gotta thank me.” He was still gonna have words with Robert when he got the chance, but that was for him to know and Patrice to never find out. Trying to shift the energy, he pretended to use her fuzzy sock-covered feet as a speed bag to get a rise out of her. She rolled her eyes but allowed him to continue. “Wanna see your gift now or should I put it under the tree?”

“I’ll open mine but you gotta open your’s first? Deal?” 

“Deal.”

Terry chuckled as he watched her prance to her closet and back with an excited smile dimpling her cheeks. In her hand, she carried two gifts of differing sizes. They were expertly wrapped in shiny festive paper and a Carolina blue bow so that there was no mistaking who was the lucky recipient. 

She reclaimed her spot on the bed, setting the smaller of the two packages beside her before handing the other to Terry to grasp with two hands. “Okay, do this one first! Hurry!” 

“Alright, alright! Calm down.” Terry made a show of slowly peeling tape and wrapping paper from the large, flat object for no other reason than to watch Patrice squirm impatiently. She tried to rush him along but he wouldn’t give in. 

Their smiles grew in tandem once Terry ended his torture and revealed a framed pristine Francis Edward High School football jersey. 

He used his index finger to trace out the letters stitched to form his last name behind the glass. “How’d you get this?” 

“Coach Robinson let me have it for tutoring his daughter in Spanish. Then my auntie did the letters for free. Look at the pictures!”

Shock at seeing his name printed on a jersey for the first time distracted him from the small collage of photos neatly placed beside it. A picture from his senior night sat next to a photo from his record-setting game as a junior. Another capturing a game-winning touchdown had him reliving the memory in full color. But his favorite, a snapshot of them being crowned homecoming king and queen at midfield, made him smile. 

“Do you like it,” Patrice asked, her eyes wide and expectant as she waited for some indication of his feelings. “You can take all the stuff out if you want. This just seemed better to put on your wall at home.”

“I like it a lot, Treece. Never thought I’d have my own jersey. Especially now that the scholarships aren’t coming.” Terry looked over the gift for a few seconds more before giving her smiling face his full attention. “Thank you. Mean it.” 

She pushed her hair behind her ear and shrugged. “You’re welcome. Mean it.” They sat there, grinning and staring back at one another in silence until Rosalyn called their names for one of her periodic checks. They responded promptly before Patrice attempted to get them back on track. “C’mon. Open the last one!” 

“If I would’ve known we were going all out, I would’ve done more,” Terry spoke, preemptively apologizing for coming up short as he peeled away the crinkling paper. Patrice waved him away. They weren’t in competition. If anything, she’d gone too far in her pursuit of his happiness. 

A final rip of wrapping paper unveiled a small gift box with his name scribbled across it. He carefully lifted the lid and then closed it once he caught a glimpse of its contents. His face began to flush with incoming emotions. 

Nestled inside a plastic key chain was a photo of Terry and his maternal grandmother. His summer had been filled with dread that she may not make it through her sickness to end the year, a fear that was realized before the school year began. He’d all but camped out on her bedroom floor in complete silence, desperately searching for some reprieve from funeral arrangements and repast activities at home. 

For Patrice, it was a no-brainer to use some of her babysitting money to take a photo she’d nabbed from his MySpace profile and turn it into a keepsake. 

Terry stilled himself with a deep breath. “You’re nice when you wanna be.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re my friend and you were sad. It’s the least I could do.”

“Thanks. For real,” he whispered, holding eye contact a little longer before pointing at her gift. “Your turn. It’s only one box but there’s a lot in it. And don’t judge my wrapping skills.” 

“Too late! This bow is super cute though. I’m gonna stick it to Sunny.”

Patrice ripped through messy silver paper, discarding scraps at her feet her that Terry gathered into a small pile to throw away later. She popped the top on a white garment box and then squealed as she pulled a folded sweater from inside. 

Future Aggie. He thought the grey, blue, and yellow sweatshirt would be a fitting gift for someone finally realizing their dream of attending college. Patrice rushed to press the garment against her chest as she looked at herself in the mirror hanging on her closet door. 

She twisted and turned to see all her angles. “I’m wearing this to school on the first day back. Thank you, TJ!” 

Her announcement created a rush of emotions bursting in all directions. Something he’d purchased adorning her body? What a sight. What a feeling. 

The surprises and elated responses continued. A new journal and pens for her to use at her leisure earned him a high five. A bottle of Hollister body mist that she fawned over on one of their many trips to the mall received a wide smile and a few sprays on her new sweater. But her favorite was the gift that cost him nothing but time. 

A CD with “For Patrice” written in thick marker and Terry’s slanted handwriting caught her attention. Try as she might, Patrice couldn’t get him to spill the beans about the disc’s contents, instead pushing her to pop it into her dusty boombox and press play. 

“Uh, this is kinda weird. Recording my own voice for a CD. Feel like I should start rappin’ or something.” Patrice smiled as Terry’s voice flowed through the speaker like a late-night radio host. He listened with his eyes closed, too embarrassed to watch her reaction in real-time. “This is for you, though, Treece. Just in case we never see each other again after high school, I hope these songs are enough to remember me by. If not then all this shit was for no reason and just pretend it never happened. I’m gonna stop talkin’ now. Hope you like it.”

His introduction flowed into a collection of songs that they considered their shared favorites. 

Terry spoke up over J. Cole’s ‘Dollar and a Dream II’. “It’s for when you’re in the car and stuff since you said you hate listening to the radio. I figured you could listen to a little mix of stuff you like instead.” 

“You know I’m gonna bring this everywhere with me now, right? My mama’s car, your car, everywhere! It’s great.”

“That’s like three compliments in a row. You getting soft on me,” he laughed. “I’m wearing you down.” 

“Why can’t you ever just let the nice things happen without saying something? I’m startin’ to think you like makin’ me mad. You sick in the head, TJ.”

Justin Timberlake, T.I., and everything in between told the story of moments spent together, inside jokes, and unspoken feelings that flowed through romantic lyrics. While they listened to track after track as background music to their winding conversation, minutes turned into hours. 

Terry had seen all of Patrice’s other gifts, taken pictures on her brand-new digital camera, taste-tested a few pieces of her aunt’s pound cake, and found time to play a few rounds of the newest Dragon Ball Z game with Junior without the passage of time ever registering in his brain. 

In Junior’s dark, dingy cave he called a bedroom, Patrice and Terry sat next to each other on the floor half paying attention to the television while her brother played video games and half fiddling with the directions and pieces from his newest Lego set. 

Leon knocked twice and poked his head into the room with the family phone in his hand. “Son, your mama’s on the phone. She said she’s been calling your cell phone looking for you.” 

Terry’s eyes widened at the realization that he’d left the small device in his coat pocket across the hall. He scrambled to his feet, limbs flailing and socks twisting as he rushed to grab the phone from Mr. Ellis before the older man stepped away to tend to other business. 

“Ma, I’m sorry!” 

“Terrence James, if you weren’t somewhere that I know for a fact is safe, I would kill you! What goes on between those ears of yours?”

Patrice winced at the non-stop yelling coming from the other end while Terry tried to listen with a poker face. She couldn’t make out all the details of his incoming punishment, but she could tell by the way the call ended that he wouldn’t be enjoying time away from home any time soon. 

Terry hung up and bit his bottom lip as he turned to Patrice. 

“How bad?” 

He shrugged. “Not that bad. She was just worried. I do have to go soon though. My uncle will be here in like 10 minutes.” 

“I mean I didn’t wanna have to be the one to kick you out, but…”

Their loud laughter at Patrice’s joke was enough to get them unceremoniously ousted from Junior’s bedroom with the door shut tight behind them before they could fully re-enter the hallway. Patrice followed Terry back into her room and watched him gather his belongings.

“My cousin Imani is coming later today. I wish y’all could’ve met each other. She’s silly like you.” 

“Yeah,” Terry questioned as he tied his sneakers. “Maybe I could try and come over tomorrow?” 

“That’s okay. You’re already in trouble. I don’t wanna make it worse. Maybe we can all hang out for Spring Break or something.” Terry looked up from his task to smile at Patrice until she mirrored his expression while rolling her eyes. “What are you smiling at?” 

“You.” 

“Why? What did I do?” 

“Just be you.”

Terry wished there was a mistletoe somewhere in the room to aid his cause. If only there were a reason to press his lips to hers as the cherry on top of the scariest confession he’d ever made. Or near confession. He couldn’t tell if his words had made the desired impact until Patrice slowly shook her head. 

She began laughing as she handed over his coat. “You sure you don’t wanna switch your major from math to English since you always talkin’ in riddles?” 

“I know what I be sayin’, you just don’t know,” he laughed to play off his blunder. 

“That completely defeats the purpose of a conversation.”

Patrice waited until he was finished securing the zippers and buttons on his coat before throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. Terry stood stunned for a beat, too caught off guard to reciprocate her affection until a switch flipped in his brain to snap him back into reality. 

He jammed his one hand into his pocket while his free arm snaked around her waist to avoid breaching an unspoken boundary. 

“Thanks for coming here this morning. Gift or not, it was fun to have you around,” she spoke over his shoulder. 

He smiled though she couldn’t see. “I know how much you love Christmas so, of course. It was fun being around. I like being with you.” 

Terry held his breath as Patrice slowly pulled away for a look at his face. Her eyes scanned for some indication that he was telling a joke or simply being annoying but found nothing but sincerity in those intense blue-green eyes she’d learned to read. 

A glimpse at his lips made her subconsciously run her tongue over the bottom of her set. Her heart raced. His hand slowly exited his pocket to find a home on her hip. They leaned forward in sync, both of them closing their eyes for whatever came next. 

“Terrence! Your uncle is outside! Get your stuff, baby!” 

Though she couldn’t possibly know the magic unfolding in her daughter’s bedroom, Rosalyn had successfully thwarted an attempt to further break the third rule. 

The pair repelled like opposite ends of a magnet until they were back at their respective ends of the room. Patrice pretended to take an interest in the purses hanging on the back of her door while Terry quickly gathered his gifts. 

He fumbled with the packages on his way out of the door, timidly inching past Patrice in hopes that she would speak to him one more time. 

“See you later.”

“I guess I should go.” 

Words overlapped in a harsh head-on collision, making them both shrink away in embarrassment. Terry chucked and took the lead. “Ladies first.” 

Patrice adjusted the hood on his coat and smiled. “I was just gonna say Merry Christmas, TJ. I hope you got everything you wanted.” 

“Merry Christmas, Treece. This is probably the best one I’ve ever had. Even if my mama is gonna rip my head off when I get home.”

“She definitely will. I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

Patrice didn’t respond with words. She offered him a sweet smile as her thumb brushed stray cake crumbs from the corner of his mouth. Another holler of his name from the kitchen forced him out of her orbit and back into the cold with Patrice hot on his heels. 

She bid him farewell from the front door, watching until the champagne-colored Honda was out of sight and Terry was just the faint smell of cologne far too adult for him on her sweater and the memory causing goosebumps on her arms. 

When Patrice turned to finally retreat back into her room, Rosalyn stood at the threshold smiling at her daughter.

“You two have fun?”

Patrice put her head down to hide the wide smile spreading across her face as she sped past her mother. “It was okay. Did Auntie Mae make the mac and cheese yet? I’m gonna get some.”

“Make sure you wash those hands, young lady,” she called after Patrice. 

The spice of expensive cologne left a trail of secrets in her wake. Rosalyn inhaled deeply and shook her head. 

They’d need a refresher on the rules before New Year’s Eve.

-----

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