#gifting sauce and honey

[savebylou]

Zayn brought honey for Kelly that he made [credit: ZaynReport, 07.05.24].

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr Gaiman,

how are you doing?

I was reading the Good Omens book when I found this:

"Like eggs without salt, you said. Which reminds me. No salt, no eggs. No gravlax with dill sauce. No fascinating little restaurants where they know you. No Daily Telegraph crossword. No small antique shops. No bookshops, either. No interesting old editions. No"-Crowley scraped the bottom of Aziraphale's barrel of interests-"Regency silver snuffboxes . . ."

So what does Aziraphale need a snuffbox for?

I do not see him 'snuff' tobacco so I thought he might use it to keep his travel sweets. I'm imagining it honey-flavoured with a tinge of lemon and ginger and in winter time he switches them for minty ones and on Christman they're butterscotch and candy-cane-flavoured.

Since it's 'Regency', is it a bookshop opening gift from Crowley?

You don't have to answer. I just like to ask questions and probably have my own story in mind of how things went anyway. I should write but I still don't let me do it.

Anyhoo I read The Ocean at the End of the Lane and boy oh boy I cried. Now I know why people cried. It's the feeling of missing something that you did not have experience and still accepting the aftermath of something that needed to happen, I guess? I loved it.

Have a nice day :) Bye

He collects them.

[yandere-writer-momo]

I just wanted to make something cute. Something about yandere platonic Pickle gets me going

@fangurlzrul3 and I were talking in discord about giving Pickle Dino nuggies with honey bbq sauce the other day so I decided to make some cute head canons

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Teaching Pickle the modern way of living (platonic)

Pickle x researcher reader

Pickle

Now being Pickle’s caretaker wasn’t something you ever expected to be, but here you were… taking care of Pickle

You wouldn’t look Pickle in the eye for the longest time in fear that he’d attack you so you’d hand him little trinkets to get him to leave you be. His favorite was a little bell you handed him. You’d hear him jingling in the other room

But as time went on, Pickle became more comfortable around you.

Pickle sits in the doorway of the lab and just stares at you. He’s kind of like a cat or a dog with his curiosity

Pickle brings you small gifts he finds around the lap. A bottle cap, a mouse trap, and some paper clips have found their way into your desk drawer for you ‘Pickle collection.’ You didn’t have the heart to throw anything away that he gave you

Pickle would stare longingly at your lunches so you began to share your meals with him. Pickle loves the little octopus shaped sausage and he was especially fond of chicken nuggets

Pickle is a chicken nugget fiend. He will eat all of them from your lunch, even the crumbs

You introduce him to honey mustard and honey barbecue sauce and he’s starstruck. Pickle begins to love eating. He comes over to you and points at his mouth every time he sees you

Pickle hates vegetables. He spits them out every time. Even if you cover them in sauce, he will spit them out (and suck off the sauce)

Pickle loves candy and sweet! He adores cotton candy and bubble gum. It took him awhile to figure it out, but now he knows how to blow bubbles. You always hear them popping when you walk past him

You give Pickle a spoonful of nut butter (specifically peanut butter) whenever you need to get your paper work done. He will sit on his haunches and lick at the roof of his mouth for a couple minutes

You’ve tried introducing toys to him but he doesn’t understand. Pickle eats the checkers, chess pieces, cards, and even the hot wheel cars. He’s a monster

Pickle threw the baby doll you gave him across the room when it started crying so you ruled out interactive toys too

[msbigredmachine]

Santa Daddy - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 3.7k words

A/N: Sorry I brought this in so late, I got sick. Better late than never though! Enjoy!

-----------------------

It was Christmas morning. Your face was a picture of utmost focus as you wiped away the hair stuck to your forehead. It was a mini madness in your open layout kitchen, but at least it was your controlled chaos. In a few hours' time, a select mix of friends, co-workers and family members would converge at your place for a Christmas sleepover for the ages, to mark your first holidays as Roman Reigns' fiancée.

What a crazy eighteen months it has been for you. If anyone told you that within that timeframe, you would escape from your abusive boyfriend, move states, find a new job and a new place to live, you would have laughed in their face.

And Lord knows how you'd have reacted if they added that you'd be dating a professional wrestler in that same timeframe. And not just any wrestler, but the marquee name, the number one guy in WWE. But here you were. In the house you lived in together. Diamond ring on your finger. Prepping dinner and being quite giddy about it too. It had been a long time since you were giddy about anything, but that changed after you said yes to a coffee date with Roman a lifetime ago, it felt like now.

The honey-glazed chicken, roasted potatoes and gravy were ready, as were the salads and greens. Your centerpiece was undoubtedly the smoky Nigerian jollof rice you couldn't wait for everyone to taste. The chocolate was fragrant as it melted in the pot and the sweet crème caramel was setting nicely. You really wanted everything to go smoothly today. Dinner first, after which everyone would gather in the den for gift swaps, karaoke, play some raunchy adult games, then go to bed whenever they liked before leaving in the morning for their drives home. It was the perfect itinerary and you planned to make sure it was.

You were whisking the chocolate sauce on the stove when the shuffling of a familiar pair of size fifteens invaded your ears. Your heart pounded a little harder anfd your brown eyes lit up as he walked into the kitchen, drinking him in with your heart-shaped mouth curving into a smile. It was incredible how he gave off the exact same aura and energy as his grand entrances to the ring with just entering a small room. It was intimidating in the sexiest way.

"I see someone found one of their gifts." Your voice was soft and sweet - a tone you used only for him - with the gentle tinge of a tease. Your man looked so good in his red Christmas-themed pajama set that matched yours, which he complemented with a Santa hat covering the top of his head.

Roman came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your neck. "You look amazing in yours," he told you. Taking a deep breath, he welcomed your fragrance deep into his lungs. Your scent reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day and the roaring fireplace several feet away in the living room. It reminded him of home. You were home.

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife-to-be. I love you." His voice was a low, tender rumble in your ear, and you shivered slightly as his hands massaged your waist, his warm breath caressing the sensitive nape of your neck.

"I love you too, Daddy. Merry Christmas," you greeted back, absorbing the aura, the love and affection radiating from him like a bright light. Gosh, how did you get so lucky, winding up with this incredibly handsome, sweet, gentle giant of a man as a life partner?

"It smells so good in here, babe," Roman complimented, dipping his finger in the gravy boat for a taste. "I wish you woke me up to help out," he added sheepishly.

You shook your head immediately. "Don't worry about it. You needed your rest from all the traveling you've been doing."

"What time do the festivities start again?"

You turned off the stove to temp the chocolate down and turned to him. "Not till like, three."

"Hmm, and it's only nine-thirty now. That's a whole lotta time to ourselves," he pointed out, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he tugged at the waistband of your pajama pants. "I know I got a lot of presents, but Daddy wants to open this one first. Can I?" he asked with a syrupy sweet voice that promised something much more carnal.

"That depends on if you were naughty or nice this year," you replied.

The dramatic pout that came with his puppy dog eyes was so cute. "I promise I've been a good boy."

You arched a manicured brow at him. "You sure? Not even the tiniest bit bad?"

Roman puffed out his chest and grinned proudly. "I'm positive. I made my woman very happy this year. That counts as good, right?"

The glittering rock on your finger answered that question. "Definitely," you agreed.

"Exactly. By the way, look up."

You followed his pointed finger. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the cabinet right above you. You met your fiancé's stormy stare, and your pussy purred from the mischief and lust you saw in them. You licked your lips with anticipation, knowing full well he was going to have his way with you, like he always did. Like you always wanted him to.

"C'mere." He guided your face to his own with his hand on the back of your neck. Your hands clutched his broad shoulders as your lips melded together in a soft, passionate dance. You stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours, worshiping each other's mouths, the smacking of your lips and hushed sighs mingling with the soft Christmas ballad playing through Alexa.

As you kissed, Roman couldn't help but get turned on. He let his hands slip down into the back of your pants and over your backside, molding your bare ass cheeks in his palms while you pressed yourself against him. You continued the increasingly intense makeout session, neither of you seeming to be in any hurry to stop.

"Santa Daddy thinks you've been a good girl this year," he murmured against your lips, "so good that you deserve a special present."

"Mmm, I love presents, Santa Daddy," you replied, allowing him to pick you up and place you on the countertop. He stepped into the space between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, while your arms curled around his shoulders as you dove into the kiss. He caressed your mouth with his luscious tongue in a way that made your knees weak. Your hands and his moved in unison, pulling off each other's clothes until you were both completely nude. The second your top was off, his fingers teased your nipples, which instantly pebbled at his touch. His broad chest was hard and warm against your palms, and you scratched your nails along his ribs just to hear him hiss in a breath right before his mouth latched onto your throat. You whimpered and gripped his hair. God, his mouth and tongue felt so good on your skin. He nibbled and sucked on you while massaging your right breast, and you felt the pit of stomach heat up with the rabid need for your pussy to be filled. The moisture pooling between your thighs could probably fill a lake.

With your eyes closed as you savored the sensations, you never quite saw him take the pot of chocolate, dip the whisk in it and wave it over your nipples. The chocolate that dripped onto your skin seared with heat, but his tongue was there to quickly lick it away before the pain registered as anything more than a turn-on.

"Mmm, that's tasty," he commented.

You watched him and his lethal mouth like a hawk. "You like that, Daddy?" you inquired, resting back on your elbows.

"Oh, I do." He drizzled more chocolate over your breasts. Your mind swam as he took his time sucking each soft flesh, activating your erogenous pressure point. He then dipped his finger in the warm chocolate then made a long trail down your lower belly. He licked that away, then used two fingers to paint your entire pussy with the hot chocolate, his face a mask of concentration as he worked on his masterpiece. Your body jerked and you sucked in a breath at the fire that raged between your legs. Then his tongue was down there, splitting your soft folds apart to delve into your sweetened essence.

Yanking the Santa hat off his head, your fingers threaded through his messy ponytail, pulling his face flush against you, writhing against him and begging for more. "Unnnh, babe, that feels so good," you groaned, your brain growing fuzzy as he French-kissed your pussy, pleasure licking at you with the same devastating impact as his tongue. "Fuck, baby, I love you!"

"I know," Roman moaned back, pushing your thighs further apart. "Spread your legs, baby...wider," he instructed you, his burly arms winding around your thighs and yanking you closer to him. "Mmm, perfect. Imma eat you off this counter, girl."

And he was. With gusto. Desperate for release, you tried to squirm but he had you pinned down to the kitchen island, keeping you still. You were panting hard as the tension coiled tighter in your belly. You were almost there, just a step away from that cliff, when he nuzzled his face against your wet pussy and flicked your hard little clit with his thumb. The pressure sent you over the edge and you moaned through the orgasm, your back arching against the cool surface of the counter. Your string of moans was an aphrodisiac to Roman, and he kept up his tender licking and sucking until your legs fell from his shoulders and you gave a shuddering sigh.

"Jesus," you whispered.

Roman resembled a kid in a candy store with his beard stained with cum and chocolate, eyes bright and lust-filled. He looked up, licked his lips with a smug smile and said, "Nothing tastes as good as you, baby," he praised, and your ego swelled. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel good. Twining your fingers in his, he pulled you upright and kissed your lips, sharing your tangy sweetness with you.

"Your turn," you announced, and slid carefully off the counter, pushing him to sit on one of the stools. You moved to take the pot of chocolate, but the three mason jars filled with homemade caramel sauce caught your eye. A devious little idea popped up in your head. Grabbing one, you unscrewed the cover, licking the sauce around the rim before grabbing Roman's dick with one hand, bringing the jar up to his plum-shaped tip.

"Fuck, girl," Roman shivered, his eyes wide when you dunked his dick right inside the jar. Your eyes shone excitedly as you pulled him back out, the thick, succulent syrup dripping down his pipe and around the rim of your hand.

"Mmm, look at all this sweetness on your dick, Daddy," you moaned, bending at the waist to capture his cock between your lips, your husky sigh vibrating against his sensitive skin. Roman moaned softly as you angled your bobbing head, sliding his dick further down your throat with the same rhythm as your hand stroking him, the sensations leaving him boneless.

"Shiiiit, just like that, baby, eat up my dick like a good girl, how's it taste, huh?" he managed to ask.

"Good," you hummed, working your tongue from the tip of his dick down to the veiny underside of his shaft, causing his breathing to grow labored as his cock throbbed in your hand.

"Oh my god, your tongue, dem juicy lips," Roman clutched your hair, watching you intensely. "Keep suckin' my dick, baby, show me what that mouth do."

Wordlessly, you drew his cock deeper into your mouth with a deep breath and started sucking him with only your jaw doing all of the work. His dick was more than sizable, but was no match for your mouth. Daddy had trained you well to handle all of that fat dick with your mouth and pussy. You paused to scoop more caramel sauce with his dick like a spoon, licking off every drop off his shaft with lavish swipes of your tongue.

"Put some on my balls," Roman instructed.

He held his dick up and out of the way while you rubbed a mix of chocolate and caramel all over his balls. As you sucked on them, Roman slowly massaged his dick, occasionally slapping your face with it. The visual of your arched back mesmerized him, the deliberate twerking of your plump ass cheeks as you pleasured him short-circuited his brain. Even hotter was the sight of his balls hidden in your mouth and the sauce mixture smeared on your chin. The contrast of the dark substance on your brown skin was so fucking sexy.

"That's it, baby, that's it...shit!" The Tribal Chief's deep voice was a strangled gasp, his breaths becoming even shallower as you popped his balls out to recapture his dick. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, lost in toe-curling pleasure as you lodged him in the back of your throat, your warm mouth swallowing around the base of his shaft like a suction. It was his turn to fidget in place, his fingers digging into your scalp as ecstasy loomed ever closer. "Baby I'm gon' come," he whined.

You moaned at his warning, the vibrations shuddering around his length. Your eyes locked with his as he started to fall apart. With a loud groan, he held your head still and gasped helplessly with each spurt of his cum gushing down your throat, his hips bucking from the force of his release. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt you swallow, drinking your fill, your tongue lapping up whatever you spilled. You pulled him out and gulped air back into your lungs, then glanced back up at him with those mischievous pretty eyes, pursing your pouty lips against his blunt head and making his cock twitch in your grasp.

"How the fuck am I still hard?" he half-laughed, half-choked, earning a proud grin from you.

"I got that magic mouth, baby," you declared haughtily, twisting your hand around him in gentle soothing strokes, "And you got this magic dick. You gonna put it on me, Santa Daddy? I know you want to."

"Damn right." He got off the chair and spun you around, bending you over the kitchen table. The tabletop remained cold against your bare, chocolate-streaked skin, and you shivered in response. It was only seconds before he guided your hands to grip the edges of the table in front of you. You moaned softly as he nudged your legs wider apart, hiking your ass slightly higher to press himself up against you.

"Ay, Alexa, turn that shit off, I wanna hear my girl scream for me," he growled at the air, and you burst out laughing when the kitchen fell into an abrupt silence.

His hard dick throbbed between your ass cheeks. He ran the thick head up and down the slit of your pussy lips. When he pushed the first few inches in, you whined pitifully. Your velvety womanhood pulled him in, eking a groan from the Tribal Chief as his big hands roamed your back and ass. His thrusts were slow at first, savoring the feel of your tight, wet pussy tugging at him with each languid stroke. You responded by bucking up against him, luring him even deeper into your body. You moaned together in mutual pleasure.

"God, so tight, so wet...bomb ass pussy," he grunted, smacking your ass and squeezing on the soft juicy flesh, knowing it would make you that much wetter as he stretched you open with that good dick. Your keening moans were nothing but fuel for him; he knew you loved it when he fucked you deep and hard and a little rough, ticking all your little sexual boxes that no one but him knew about. His rhythm was steady yet heavy, keeping you on edge with deep strokes right up on your g-spot. Leaning over you, he swept your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek, a hushed moan slipping from his throat when you squirmed against him, pressing your ass closer to his hips every time he pushed into you.

With the table pressing into your belly and his body trapping you against it, you felt his dick swell inside you, girthier and harder with every thrust. Your body was so sensitized from your previous orgasm that you felt another one build in record time. You wanted your second nut so bad, and you rolled your ass against him, hoping to put enough pressure on your clit to bring it on.

"Unnh yeah, throw that sexy ass back at me," Roman grunted with another hard smack to your ass which jiggled from the impact of his big hand. Said hand then made its way into your hair, the other gripping your waist as he grinded against you and you against him. He loved it; loved you, loved the feel of your bodies moving together, your juices dripping all over his dick, loved the fact that you couldn't seem to control the noises you were making as the kitchen echoed with the erotic sound of them.

"Oh, baby, I'm fuckin' close," you whimpered through your moans.

"How close?" he asked, his lips brushing soft kisses between your shoulder blades and trailing them down your back. His warm breath and his soft beard tickled your skin, and too aroused to answer, you merely whimpered again and bounced your ass more impatiently on his dick. The tension was there in your belly, swirling around so close to explosion, and you needed it like you needed air.

Roman's grip on your hair strengthened, anchoring himself to you. "Don't move. Lemme get that pussy." He was like a Ferrari engine, accelerating with harder pummeling thrusts that filled you to the brim. He was now balanced on just the balls of his feet in an effort to drive deeper into you, pounding you out until you were leaking down your thighs and all over his dick and balls. It felt so good. Too good.

"Yes, Daddy, beat that shit up...unnhhh, my god, I'm coming," you moaned long and loud as you unraveled like flimsy wrapping paper. Stars sparked behind your eyelids as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably from its intensity.

"Mmm, there you go sweetheart, soak my dick,  come all over it," he snickered proudly, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "Was that nut good, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, so good," you grinded out, lightheaded, your eyes glazed over and unfocused, even more so as you felt his hand spread over the back of your neck and hold you down to the countertop, his hips winding against your ass as he stayed burying his long, girthy dick in your warm, snug depths.

"Good, cuz I'm 'bout to nut too...shit, baby girl, this pussy amazing...You gon' make me put a kid in you..."

The thought of him breeding you with his seed had your pussy clenching around his cock, the suckling sensation reducing his husky taunts into yet another helpless moan. You could tell from his breathing that he was indeed close, his frenzied thrusts becoming sloppier as white-hot pleasure surged through both of your bodies in incredible waves.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Roman grunted, squeezing your hips for dear life as something snapped inside him. Slamming his dick into you one last time, he went completely rigid with a shout as he came hard for you. The warm wet spurts of cum emptying inside you caused your body to shiver against his as you milked his dick dry. His heavy weight kept you pressed into the hard marble table, both of you so limp that it didn't seem to matter that you couldn't breathe. Somehow, you managed to stand back upright, making him do the same behind you. As he wrapped you up in a hug, he was still inside you, and you tilted your head up to gently bite his bottom lip before licking at his tongue. It made him smile, and you couldn't help but smile back as he shared a long, greedy kiss with you before finally pulling out with a groan, slapping your backside one more time as he stepped away.

"Save some of that chocolate stuff for us," he said, grinning when you shot him a questioning look. "I want you to use 'em on me again later tonight."

You picked up the two sets of pajamas off the floor. "Hmm, you won't be too tired from dinner and all that?"

"Too tired to fuck you? Never, my baby girl."

"Then I'll make sure to bring a jar of each." You laughed as his Adams apple and his cock bobbed simultaneously, his imagination running wild with all the nasty things you would do to him.

"Good idea. Nah, scratch that, great idea," he corrected himself with a chuckle, lifting you into his arms bridal-style and carrying you out of the kitchen. "Right now, we both need a shower."

"Why do I got a feeling this 'shower' is gonna keep our guests waiting?"

He laughed with you and ascended the stairs. "You know me so well."

It was two p.m. by the time he was through with you. When you determined that your legs could function properly again, you dragged yourself out of his bed, changed into another set of pajamas and made your way back downstairs to put the finishing touches on the food and the rest of the house. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when this man came up behind you and ran his hands all over your body. His dick was hard.

"Again?" you breathed, biting back a gasp when he started undoing the strings of your pants. The guests would be arriving anytime soon.

"Just one more," he groaned huskily in your ear, grabbing a jar of chocolate sauce, "I've missed you so much, baby, I need to taste you one more time..."

About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Jey and his wife Larissa were your first guests. When the front door opened, they took one good look at you and Roman; disheveled clothing, hair out of place, the smear of sauce over your left breast and on the corner of Roman's lips, and put two and two together.

"Y'all nasty," Larissa giggled and entered the house, with Jey merely shaking his head behind her.

🎄THE END🎄

-----------------

This is definitely my final story for the year. I'm so proud of how many I was able to churn out and EXTREMELY happy and proud of how much you all like it. Thank you all, I appreciate all your support and feedback more than you'll ever know! 🥺

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[badasmuse]

“Birthday Sex”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), smoking, penetrative sex, lowercase intended, language, cute names, top!bada, bottom!reader, reader is a dickhead lowkey but not to bada

Summary: it’s y/n’s birthday. ofc bada gon do her right.

a/n: it’s actually my birthday🤭here’s my gift to y’all. my gift FROM y’all? blow this mf up pls!

Song to listen to: Birthday Sex by Jeremih

“i’m so pissed i have to work on my fucking birthday.” you said into the phone standing outside your job taking a smoke break.

“i know my love but you only have a few more hours left. when you get home i’ll have dinner ready, movies and wine, and i’ll run you a bath. does that sound good?” bada asks softly. she knows how upset you are and she doesn’t want to say anything that could make you more upset.

“yeah that sounds amazing.” you inhale the black n mild between your fingers and flick the ashes blowing out the smoke. “i just wish i was in bed with you right now. i’m tired. i asked for it off they told me no. i asked someone to switch shifts they said no. i was gonna call off but they said i’d get written up and i already have two fucking write ups for punching a customer and telling my manager to suck my dick. well that’s not why- i said suck my dick and she said i don’t have one and i replied with “yeah but my girlfriend has a big ass strap and i’d shove it so far down your throat it’ll come out your ass.” then i got written up.”

bada blinks, “y/n you did not tell me that.”

“i know. fuck i gotta go i love you.” you put out the black and hang up when bada returns the words of affection.

hours later you look at the time and and sigh. “fucking finally.”

“y/n i need you to stay an extra-“ you cut your manager off.

“nah bro it’s my birthday and i want to go the fuck home. you and these customers can eat my shorts.” you clock out and dip the fuck out. hopping in your car and speeding out the parking lot bumping your music loudly.

when you get home, you mouth waters at the smell of pasta in the air. “bada?” you say kicking off your shoes.

“hi my love! how was work?” she asks from the kitchen.

“terrible. i hate it there.” you hug her from behind. “i missed you.”

“i missed you more. go sit down i’ll make your plate.” she says, rubbing your knuckles.

once she sets the plate in front of you, you practically moan tasting the alfredo on your tongue.

“is it good?” she asks.

“fucking amazing. i love you.” you say wiping sauce off your mouth with a napkin.

bada once again asks about your day and you tell her everything. you start with the customer you called a dickhead for commenting on how your boobs looked in your work shirt and end with your boss asking you to stay another hour. by now you guys are in the bathroom waiting for the tub to fill up.

“i told her to eat my shorts.” you say, stripping out of your clothes.

bada laughs, turning off the water. “you’re gonna get fired. get in the tub.”

you shrug, “i don’t care i hate her.” a moan leaves your mouth again as you sink into the tub. “can i smoke?” you ask.

she’s never been a fan of you smoking so she doesn’t let you do it in the house but, “since it’s your birthday, i’ll allow it.” she goes and pulls a black from your purse and the lighter she had custom made for your last birthday.

“thank you. i’ll brush my teeth again to get the taste out for when we kiss.” you say lighting it.

her face scrunches at the smell but she remains in the bathroom. she puts her hand in the water running it up and down your leg that isn’t exposed. “i wish we could’ve spent all day together.” she says quietly.

“i know honey i do too. i would quit but i don’t have anything lined up right now.” you sigh.

“we need a receptionist at justjerk… i can put in a good word for you.” she says trailing her fingers up your thigh.

“you’re saying one thing but you’re thinking about something else.” you blow smoke, putting your cigar out.

“you had a stressful day. i just wanna make you feel better.” she says dragging her fingers further up your thigh. “and it’s your birthday..”

she pulls the drain plug and helps you stand, taking down the shower head so she can rinse the bubbles off you. she moves it further down, holding it against your clit for a second before moving down your legs.

a soft whine escapes your lips and bada’s head snaps up. “was that a whine?” she smirks.

usually you’re the dominate one. loud, assertive, all that. especially in bed. man does bada like that. occasionally you’ll let bada top, like when she’s mad and needs to let out steam (which is damn near never. she’s always so happy and giggly.) but, hearing you whine woke something up inside her. now she kinda wants to pin you down and pound into you until you cum all over the bed.

you don’t respond, biting your lip. bada doesn’t like that. “i asked a question.”

your thighs clench as you look down at her, “yes…it was a whine.” you mumble.

she giggles kissing your nose. “come on let’s go in the room.” helping you out, bada wraps you in a towel and guides you to the room. after you brush your teeth of course.

you sit on the bed quietly as bada re-emerges from the closet with her strap in hand. your eyes close at the thought of her using it on you. it’s been awhile and that thing is huge.

bada pushes you back against the bed opening your towel. you put your legs up, spreading them wide for her. you’re dripping onto the towel as you watch her put the strap on.

“bada..” you whine out, “please fuck me.” please fuck me? who are you right now y/n? since when do you beg???

another giggle leaves bada’s lips as she runs the tip of her strap over your clit. she slowly pushes it in, taking her time cause she knows it’s been too long since you bottomed.

tears fill your eyes as she pushes into you. “fuck.” you whisper, covering your face.

“shhh, you’re okay. i’ll go slow.” she says pushing in deeper but at a very slow pace.

“oh god bada wait.” you say when she’s in all the way.

she leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead. “take your time. we have all night.”

after a few minutes you nod your head and bada starts thrusting slowly. you gasp feeling her hit your spot head on. you open your mouth to say something but your phone cuts you off.

“fuck who the fuck..” you go to reach for it but bada grabs you, pinning you down to the bed. “don’t touch that fucking phone.”

you moan in response as her thrusts speed up. your thighs shake and you writhe on the bed. “oh fuck bada just like that!” you scream as she starts pounding into you. “feels.. fuck. you- oh my god..”

“can’t even form sentences. my dumb birthday girl.” bada pants, holding your wrists with one hand and using the other to rub your swollen clit with her long fingers.

you let out another scream as you r body spasms. “cum.. bada c-cum.” you say. you’re supposed to be asking her if you can… or telling her you have to. you’re not too sure anymore. you’re just thinking about the feeling of her thick strap hitting your gspot so good.

“cum for me baby… i need a big mess to clean up.” she giggles, lifting your leg on her shoulder.

her giggles make you moan louder. you clench around the strap, cumming hard. your vision goes white and your leg shakes on her shoulder. “fuck bada pull out it’s too much.”

she does as you ask and bites her lip as she watches your cum squirt out of you. she now remembers why you hate bottoming.

“fuck the bed is gonna be all wet and we’ll have to sleep in the guest room.” you whine out when you come down from your high.

“baby.. relax. you came on the towel. the bed is fine.” bada says taking off the strap. like always, she kneels down and starts licking the cum off your thighs and your cunt making sure you’re not too sticky before you go to bed.

you moan loudly. you feel clean but she keeps eating you out. “OKAY- big thirsty ass that’s enough.” you moan pushing her head back. “you got it all up.”

she pouts, “but you taste good.”

“let me rest. wake me up in an hour and i’ll let you eat me out till your heart gives out.” you mutter closing your eyes.

“happy birthday my love.” she whispers as you fall asleep.

W birthday honestly.

[mysticmunson]

imagine trying out that pheromone perfume on alpha steve…just to see if it’s legit and he comes home to you cooking or baking at the counter and his entire body is like ! where is my sweet angel princess omega!!! i need to touch her !

and he’s not sensing anything out of the ordinary esp since he’s missed you all day so he comes up behind you and wraps you in a hug, kissing against your cheek and jaw with a sweet “hi baby-” but as his lips meet your jaw he smells it (not knowing what it is but it changes his entire demeanor) he’s nuzzling into your neck, and rutting into your ass like “mmm baby you smell so fucking good. holy fuck.”

just grunting and groaning , sloppy kisses completely distracting you, and then he bends you over and ravishes you right on the kitchen counter🥰

oh this is beautiful, i’ve been having writers block so i apologize that this isn’t longer but i may come back to this bc… wow

Honestly, you thought it was a scam, something that people sell as gag gifts or well-intentioned hoaxes. But part of you hoped the pheromone perfume would work, not that your sex life with Steve had been anything except incredible since presenting together, rather out of curiosity.

With a dab to your neck, you faintly smelled something that felt reminiscent of the scent of need. Like going into a bakery and noting the aroma of pastries, unable to identify them specifically. Not precisely yours, but close.

So you grumbled over the waste of money, barely recalling it was there after a few minutes, and began cooking dinner. Steve had been working the closing shift, something Keith usually took, but it fell into your boyfriend's lap today.

The wooden door smacked against the frame as he entered, shoes coming off near the opening mat.

As it wore off on you, Steve noticed it instantly, the potent need filling his senses. Not recognizing the food you were prepping, he placed hands on your hips, pulling you close to him.

With your back against his chest, he nosed at your neck, growling so low that it sent vibrations down your spine.

“Smell so good, honey.” He manages to say, hands wandering across your midriff.

Feeling flushed, you wanted to remove your sweatshirt, but it seemed your alpha was a moment away from tearing it off.

“Thank you, Stevie, it’s your favorite pasta-“ You began, about to ask how his shift went until he grunted.

“Not what I’m talking about.” He stated, making you realize what the perfume was invoking in him as he adored your family recipe of tomato sauce.

Squeaking as he turned you around, kissing your neck feverishly, your own fingers going to his hair. He soon moved to your lips, enveloping yours with a hum, growing painfully aroused beneath his right jeans.

“Wait, Stevie-“ You laughed, his lips pulling away puffy and pink, his cheeks flushed red. You swiped the spit dripping onto his chin before grabbing the plate you had just made for him, “Need to eat first.”

“I don’t want to eat that right now,” He breathed with no malice or impatience. Setting the glassware on the counter, you grew embarrassed, making him furrow his brows.

“I bought this pheromone perfume, I thought it didn’t work.” You revealed, his interest peaking immediately as he went back to sniffing your neck, “Are you really getting-“

The answer to your inquiry came fast as he pulled your hand to the swelling beneath his jeans, a wonton gasp following.

“It doesn’t smell like you, but, shit, I need you. It’s like it’s making yours louder.” He groaned, impatient, he turned you around as your chest pressed onto the countertop.

“So needy,” You whisper, only getting a smack on the bottom, “Ow!”

“Watch it.” He scolded, though he could be further from irritated, too focused on the easiest way to remove your clothes without ripping them.

(He had ripped off your clothes twice before, fueled by the need to see you bare, which he earned complaints for. The agreement was that he could tear underwear, but he had to take you out to buy new ones afterward)

As if you could read his mind, some of his favorite words left your mouth, “You can rip them.”

Steve’s heart began racing, laughing against your neck, “Oh, you have no idea what you just did, honey.”

mutuals :) : @lilacletter @lesservillain @andvys @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Family of two

Summary: …may become a family of three.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x daughter!reader, WandaNat

Warnings: none

Word count: 1230

a/n: might become a series/its own au, might not, it depends so I haven’t decided yet. Let me know what you think!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @wandsmxmff @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Wanda hums to herself as she cooks Sokovian food. She is wearing a flowy dress, a neat one but not too fancy. There’s a smile on her face. Her two favourite people are meeting each other today.

“Y/N!” Wanda calls out, mixing the sauce in the pan. “She’ll be here in an hour, hun.”

Y/N, who is pacing around her room, frowns at the muffled words coming through the closed door of her bedroom. The dress she is wearing per Wanda’s request flows in the air as she turns around. It’s a sundress, baby pink with small forget-me-nots printed on it.

She isn’t excited for this dinner. In her thirteen-year-old mind, their family is already complete enough for the two of them. Of course she wants her mother to be happy, but they’ve been this way since she was born, and change is difficult.

Not answering, she huffs and sits down on her bed. The smell of the food is making her mood slightly better, it’s comforting to smell the Sokovian food that she grew up eating, as it’s usually reserved for special occasions nowadays.

For the remaining hour, Y/N stays in her room playing video games while she waits for the inevitable.

A knock comes from the front door of the house at six o’clock on the dot. Wanda sets down the food on the dining table, washing her hands quickly before going to open the door.

Outside the door stands Natasha Romanoff with the widest smile on her face. “Hi, babe.” She kisses her before being led inside. “I brought some gifts for Y/N, or bribes,” she shrugs, “whichever word fits better.”

Wanda giggles, “she’ll like you, don’t worry.” She takes out three plates from a cabinet, setting two of them on one side and the third one to the opposite side. “Y/N! Natasha is here.”

Letting out a breath, Y/N stands up and makes her way out of her room. She has a straight face as she stops in front of her mom and Natasha. “Hi.” Her voice is quiet and her gaze keeps moving.

“Hey.” Natasha keeps looking at Y/N, almost unnaturally much. “Here,” she hands her a bag, “gifts for you.”

“Oh.” Y/N takes it and looks inside. There’s a soft looking teddy bear, some chocolates, and a book she has wanted for a while. She’s bribing me, is her first thought, though she doesn’t say it out loud in front of Wanda.

Her mother is looking at her with her brows raised.

“Thanks.” She murmurs, setting the bag down on the couch before sitting down on her seat around the dinner table.

Wanda gives Natasha an apologetic look before the two women do the same. The atmosphere is treading towards uncomfortable as they all put food on their plates.

Clearing her throat, Natasha glances at Y/N. “So, your mom told me that you like theatre.” Her statement makes Y/N glance at Wanda before she nods. “Are you..in a theatre group? Or do you just prefer watching them?”

“I’m not in a group.”

“Y/N has a hard time meeting new people.” Wanda pipes in once she realizes Y/N is going to be giving short answers today.

“Mom!”

“It’s okay,” Natasha says quickly, not wanting the girl to feel embarrassed, “I do too. It’s stressful to meet new people.”

Y/N huffs, her gaze locked on her full plate as she moves the food around with her fork. “How long have you two been together?” She decides to change the subject. She doesn’t want the conversation to be about her.

“Nine months, honey.”

She nods, looking at her mom. “So, is it serious then?”

“Y/N.” Wanda gives her a warning look. “Yes, we are in a serious relationship. And I really love her.”

Her gaze move from Wanda to Natasha, her eyes squinted the slightest. “I really love your mom too.” Natasha says quickly, feeling just a bit threatened.

Y/N hums, going back to playing with her food. She doesn’t know what to think of the situation. Slowly, the table goes back to tense silence. Wanda taps her fingers against the table, her eyes hopping from her daughter to her girlfriend and back.

Biting her lip, she quickly blurts out, “Natasha owns a motorcycle.”

Natasha furrows her brows as she looks at Wanda, who is giving her a look to start talking. “Uhm, yeah? I have a motorcycle.” She mumbles, unsure about where Wanda was going with this.

Squinting her eyes, Y/N lifts her head to look at Wanda. “You think that motorcycles are death machines.”

“Yes..but you think they’re cool.”

“You do?” Natasha smiles when Y/N nods. “That’s great. Maybe you can test ride it someday?”

Her eyes widen in subtle excitement, though Wanda squashes it down right away. “Absolutely not!” She sends a warning look to both Y/N and Natasha.

“When she’s older, I mean.” Natasha corrects herself quickly.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she has a small smile on her face as she finally starts to eat the food in front of her. For the rest of the dinner, Wanda and Natasha keep most of the conversation going.

“What did you think about Natasha?” Wanda picks out a book from Y/N’s bookshelf before sitting next to her on the bed.

Y/N shrugs, laying her head on Wanda’s lap. “She’s okay, I guess.” There’s a small pause while Wanda looks for the page they last left on. They both enjoy those routine, Wanda reading for Y/N before she goes to bed, even though she thinks of herself a bit too old to have bedtime stories read to her. “I didn’t like it when you said it’s difficult for me to meet new people. It made me uncomfortable.” She mumbles.

Wanda sighs, setting the book down momentarily. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I was just nervous and it slipped out.”

“You don’t like..talk about my personal stuff with her, do you?”

“No, of course not.” Her hand goes to Y/N’s hair, combing through it softly. “I would never tell anything personal about you without your permission, okay? It was an honest mistake.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

Wanda’s eyes are locked on Y/N’s profile, she can see the slight apprehension on her face. “Are you scared?” She whispers, her fingers moving to Y/N’s cheek, moving around with feather light touches.

“Scared of what?”

“Things changing.”

“Yeah.” Y/N swallows. She fiddles with her hands under the cover. “I’m scared you’ll love me less.”

“I could never love you less, baby.” Her hand moves Y/N’s head to a position where they can hold eye contact. “You love your friends right?And you tell them you love them.” Y/N nods.” “Does that make you love me less?”

“No.”

“Does saying I love you more make you mean those words less.”

“No.”

Wanda smiles softly, “exactly.” Her fingertips move from Y/N’s cheek to her forehead, and down her nose. “You’re still my number one priority, and always will be.”

Smiling back, Y/N nods softly, moving around so she is in the most comfortable position. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Wanda picks the book back up, and starts reading the next chapter.

[hallowpen]

This post is going to be a combination of The Loyal Pin Episodes 5 and 6, as I was unable to post for episode five due to my travel schedule.

Let's start off with the two key highlights from Episode 5...

หมูสร่ง (pronounced 'muu sarong') is a Thai dish made of pork meatballs wrapped in egg noodles that are fried until golden and crispy. For this reason, the dish is literally translated as "Pork wrapped in Golden Threads". It is usually served with a plum dipping sauce.

The Thai name for the series is ปิ่นภักดิ์ ('Pin Phak'). ปิ่น serves as Khun Pin's nickname... but is also Thai for "hairpin". A tradition born from the Lanna Kingdom (อาณาจักรล้านนา), nobles and high-ranking officials would purchase hairpins of gold, silver, or brass to wear as a social status symbol of their wealth. The gift of a hairpin (usually a gift given from a suitor to their potential bride) would symbolize one's promise to care for its intended wearer. Hairpins are associated with the belief that they will help to preserve a couple's love and prevent it from fading over time. They are, therefore, representative of the true and lasting connection between Anil and Pin.

If you managed to survive Episode 6, let's discuss....

การซักผ้าด้วยเครื่องหอม - The process of washing clothes in fragrant water is pretty straightforward. A combination of herbs, spices, and florals are added to boiling water to create a natural detergent. The chosen additives can aid in stain and odor removal, reducing wrinkles, and preserving the color of the garments. The particular ingredients chosen in the series were 1) ลูกซัดคั่ว (roasted fenugreek seeds) - Also known as methi seeds, they smell and taste like maple syrup 2) ชะลูด (dried alyxia) - A climbing flowering plant that has a sweet and light fragrance, described to smell like honey 3) ใบเตย (pandan leaves) - A tropical plant whose soft aroma is described as having hints of rose, almond, and vanilla.

Thai rubies (พลอยสีทับทิม) are extremely rare and highly coveted, as they are far scarcer than diamonds. The rubies are not only admired for their beauty, but are known in Thai culture as one of the nine sacred gemstones. They are believed to hold auspicious meanings, and to bring long-lasting love to their wearer. Owning and wearing jewelry that features this incredibly valued gemstone is seen as a status symbol for royalty. Princess Alisa gifting these jewels to Pin for her birthday means she holds Pin in very high regard (it was hinted in the first episode that Alisa views Pin as a second daughter).

There are a few conversations and quotes from this episode that I would like to highlight.

The first is the conversation between Pin and Princess Patt:

"Can Princess Anil follow in Princess Patt's footsteps and stay unmarried?" "That would be quite unlikely, Lady Pin. [...] Savettavarit is a very famous, wealthy, and well-respectable family. Princess Anil will eventually have to get married. You will also have to get married as well, Lady Pin. I already have some prospects in mind."

There are certain expectations that women of royalty and nobility cannot escape from. The most prominent of which is to be married and have natural born children to preserve the line of succession. It is also important to note that these potential marriage prospects are always chosen by a daughter's parents...with the daughter having little to no say over the decision. Which leads me right into the next scene... when Anil is talking to Prik about having to leave for England sooner than she expected:

"I did not choose to do this, Prik."

Such a short and quick line... that holds so much meaning. Anil is a highly ranked princess yet, even she, must submit to the whims of her elder brother. Women hardly hold a say over their own lives within this society... and that's going to come into play, very obviously, later on in the series...

The last scene I wanted to mention was during Anil's planned dinner, when she and Pin were discussing Pin's birthday:

"What gift do you want from me for your birthday?" "Just wake up early to make merits and give alms to the monks with me, Your Highness."

I'm mentioning this scene for cultural reasons. In Thai culture, the tradition of making merit and giving alms together is tied to the beliefs of shared karma. The practice is said to bring prosperity to couples in their current life, and to ensure they will meet again in future lives. Pin's request is representative of her intentions to walk hand-in-hand with Anil in their present life, and in their future lives to come. I'm not crying... you are!!! 😭😭😭

[preciouslandmermaid]

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter

Note:  I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).

(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)    

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.

“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”

“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”

You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.

Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.

“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”

“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”

“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”

You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.

“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”

“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”

Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”

“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.

“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”

“We’re prepared.”

“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”

“Obviously.”

She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.

“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.

“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.

Carmy nodded. “Okay.”

His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.

“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”

“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.

Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.

“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”

You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.

“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.

“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”

“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”

He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”

“How so?”

“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”

“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”

“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.

You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.

“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.

“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.

Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”

“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”

“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”

“Dread?” he guessed.

You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”

“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.

“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.

“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.

“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.

As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.

“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”

“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.

Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”

Your stomach dropped into your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”

“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.

“Fuck,” Syd said.

Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”

“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.

You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”

“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”

You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.

“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”

“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck it. We stay.”

“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”

“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.

You laughed. “God, we might need him.”

The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.

Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”

You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.

“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”

Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”

“The tall blonde one with the accent.”

“Luca?”

Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”

“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.

“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.

“You do?”

“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”

Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”

“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.

Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.

“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”

“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.

“You’ll like this surprise.”

Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.

“A basil plant?”

“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”

Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.

“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”

You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”

“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.

“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”

Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”

Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.

“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”

Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!

“Cousin—” Carmy began.

“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”

Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.

“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”

Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.

“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”

He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.

“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.

“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”

“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”

Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.

But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.

Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.

“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”

You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”

Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”

“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.

“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!

“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.

“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.

Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.

“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”

You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”

“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.

“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.

He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.

“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”

He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.

“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.

“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.

“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”

You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.

“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”

“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.

“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”

“Gladly.”

Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.

“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”

“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”

Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.

“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”

You blinked at her. “Put it back?”

“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.

Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.

Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.

You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.

[captain-mj]

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

JJ not having money for valentine's day but planning a cute date with him

A little late to the party, but here's a cute valentine's day blurb

—

You knew JJ couldn't afford to get you anything big for Valentine's day, so you decided that you wouldn't buy each other anything. Valentine's Day was about spending time with the person you love, not getting each other the most expensive gifts. So you invited him over to make heart shaped pizzas for dinner and watch movies. It was simple, but you knew JJ would love it. 

‘’There's never enough cheese,’’ he said, adding more to the mountain on his pizza.

‘’You can't call this a pizza. It's just cheese and sauce.’’ You looked around the table for a veggie that he would not scrunch his nose at. ‘’Here, add some red bell peppers—’’ You grabbed some red bell peppers and tried to add them to his mountain of cheese, but JJ caught your hands.

He shook his head. ‘’Uh uh. No veggies allowed on this pizza! This is Chef JJ’s pizza. Do not interfere in my zone,’’ he said in an exaggerated — and terrible — Italian accent. 

You laughed at his antics. His humor was one of your favorite things about JJ. He loves to crack jokes and make stupid voices just to make his friends laugh. Unfortunately, he often used humor to cover up his emotions and pain. 

As you watched the pizzas cook in the oven, it was obvious which was which. Yours had a very clear shape of a heart and JJ’s was all kinds of crooked. It wasn’t as aesthetically pleasing as the cute date pictures that flooded social media, but you still took a picture of them before eating and posted it. 

‘’Yours is too perfect. It's not fair,’’ JJ complained when you got them out of the oven. ‘’Mine looks like a messy blob.’’ He poked at the uneven edges of his own creation, burning his finger in the process and hissing.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. ‘’Careful, babe. It’s hot.’’ 

You plated the pizzas and both settled down on the couch to watch a movie before your parents would return from their dinner date.

The crust was a little overcooked and the rom-com wasn't really good, but you preferred imperfect moments. It corresponds better to your relationship.

—

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[kiwisa]

name(s) of love ✩ cl16

Charles Leclerc x Fem! Girlfriend! Reader

fluff • smut(ish) • 1,500 words

IN WHICH... love takes on many forms and many names.

✩ “MON AMOUR…” in everyday life.

“Can you pass me the salt, mon amour?”

With one hand, the other stirring the sauce, Charles vaguely pointed to the location of the saltshaker, which you hastened to hand over. He murmured a distracted “thank you” and seasoned the meat before turning down the heat and covering the pan with the lid next to it.

You watched in silence as his shoulders tensed with every movement, the muscles of his arms drawn deliciously against his shirt. A strand of hair bounced on his forehead at each movement, wet from the steam of the pots on the hob. A scrunchie, one of yours, was pulling back his hair ⏤ which had been falling in front of his eyes ever since he began his task ⏤ into a ridiculously little ponytail.

After giving the sauce a final stir to let it reduce, Charles wiped his hands on his white “kiss the cook” apron ⏤ a gift you were very proud of.

“I love to watch you cook,” you said as you approached.

You let your hands graze his arms up to his shoulders and placed them on either side of his neck. It was impossible to resist the urge to kiss it. You pecked at every bit of skin, stopping at a few tender spots that your nights with him had revealed.

“Yeah?” he pulled you to him, careful not to bring you too close to the fire, and leaned his head back to give you more room. His hands gently tickled your ribs before moving down and squeezing your ass. He left them there, chastely, happy to receive so much attention.

“Hmm,” you nodded, far too busy loving on him to give him a real answer.

“I think you're far more interested in the food than me, mon amour.”

Oh, you'd devour him over any meal in this world.

✩ “MON COEUR…” when he’s tired.

“Mon coeur, come to bed,” Charles whined.

“One more chapter, honey, and I'm yours.”

Your eyes were beginning to burn, assaulted by the artificial light of the table lamp next to the couch. The dark night had long since darkened the sky. Despite the pain, the letters that ⏤ little by little ⏤ were becoming blurry, the sentences that only made sense if you read them twice, you couldn't bring yourself to close the book. You had started it three days ago, and as the last chapters were drawing nearer and nearer, you couldn't go to sleep without knowing the end of the story, without knowing if the protagonist would survive.

You knew it had been a trying day for Charles, as media day usually was: one interview after another, this time for magazines, and the many videos he had to shoot for various YouTube channels had dealt the final blow to his energy.

“You said that six chapters ago.”

A grimace pulled at your face. You immediately felt terrible, even more so when you saw him, at the entrance to the corridor, wrapped up in the quilt, his eyes reddened by fatigue, his hair in all directions. A painting as touching as heart-breaking. They were overworking him.

“Mon coeur, please,” he tried again.

His shiny green eyes were enough to make you give in. Morning and evening, he rejuvenated before your eyes when, around him, the arms of Morpheus imprisoned him. How could you resist his face?

Gently, you folded the corner of your page before placing the book on the coffee table. You couldn't take three steps before Charles wrapped you in the duvet, holding you tightly against him. Your eyes were blocked by the quilt and by his chest, so you did not see the dark look he gave your book, as if it was responsible for all his misfortunes.

He guided you to the bedroom like this, never letting go of you except to close the door. You could not hide your smile at his cuteness, which he took as mocking.

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I didn't say anything.”

He pushed you down on the bed, watching your body bounce on the mattress before dropping onto you. The weight of his body cut off your breathing for a moment but you said nothing, understanding what Charles was craving.

Contact.

His head nestled against your breasts; his eyelids closed at once. Your skin against his, he could forget the worries of the day. He could suddenly breathe with your heartbeat giving the tempo for his to follow. Your fingers slipping into his hair, smoothing them, anything to soothe him.

There was no sound to disturb this tender moment, except your breathing and perhaps ⏤ sometimes ⏤ the sound of a kiss dropped on his forehead.

You continued until his weight became heavier, a sign that he had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight, honey,” you murmured.

Very quietly, so as not to wake him, you picked up your phone. Immediately lowering the brightness, you clicked on the orange icon on your iPhone and, remembering the little number at the top right of the page, resumed reading your book, having bought it digitally.

As pretty as this boy was, you were not going to sleep without knowing the end.

✩ “MON ANGE…” when he’s sad.

Each sniffle broke your heart a little more, as your neck collected tear after tear. You tightened your grip on Charles's trembling body, trying to protect him from this world and its horrors. Seeing this joyous man who shared your life being tarnished by others drove you into a deep rage, one you kept secret.

It could wait.

The love of your life could not.

“It's going to be okay.”

You weren't sure. How could you control people's actions, their disrespect, and the power that anonymity gave them? Words hurt, even written on a phone screen.

Charles had walked in your Monte-Carlo flat in tears, after what should have been a fun night out with his mates. It had been hard to make out his words, cut off by heart-breaking sobs, but you got the gist of it: by showing a funny tweet about him, one of his friends had unintentionally confronted Charles with the hatred of bitter people who couldn't bear to see others succeed. His appearance, his behaviour, his driving. Everything had been a subject to criticize, but it was the third point that had been the coup de grâce; especially after the disappointing new car testing.

All it had taken was one comment to shatter into a million pieces what you had tried to keep intact.

“Mon ange, I–”

“It's okay,” you repeated, trying to convince him, and maybe you as well. “You don't have to talk if you don't want to.”

So, he didn't. You stood there, hugging in the middle of the living room, a few steps from the door that hid him from all his worries.

“I love you, mon ange,” he finally whispered.

“I love you too, my talented, beautiful, kind boyfriend.”

He managed to give you a shaky smile, which, if it bore the mark of deep sadness, reassured you somewhat. You stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently, as if to affirm your compliments, to anchor them on his mouth so that he, in turn, could believe them, say them.

It would take a little time to piece him back together, but you were nothing if not stubborn.

✩ “BÉBÉ…” when he’s in the mood.

“Bébé?”

Silence.

Charles straightened up a little more, his back against the headboard. He didn't take his eyes off your body, which was facing the opposite way. The moon had long since cast its bluish halo over the bed and was now illuminating your naked curves, which the white sheet did nothing to hide.

“Bébé?”

His fingertips brushed your knee, moved gently up your thighs – his pinkie sliding inwards more than necessary – and up your lower abdomen to your chest. Charles watched with delight as your body shivered at his touch, his heart beating furiously in his chest, temple, and crotch.

“Bébé?”

This time he shook you without delicacy, abruptly waking you from your deep sleep. You didn't like this one bit. Roughly pulling the quilt up to your neck, you buried yourself in it, ignoring the complaints of the man beside you. The masterpiece that was your body, now stolen from his dilated eyes.

Unacceptable, he thought.

His hand came to rest on your waist, squeezing it.

“What?” you asked aggressively, ready to sleep after an already eventful night. This man had far too much stamina for you. The still regular shaking of your legs was proof of that.

“I'm horny,” he whined.

“You're a fucking animal, Leclerc. That’s what you are.”

Your words may have had bite, but your thighs were already spreading for him to fit between them. Damn him and his stupidly beautiful, flushed face, and pouted lips.

Fucker.

[kezzanza]

What type of boyfriend do you think jude would be?

A/N: first of all, i literally love this ask bc i think of this every 5 business days so thanks for making me put it in writing :)

Jude seems like the guy that would pick you up in a million dollar car, take you to your favorite high-end restaurant and ask you to be his with delicate chocolate lettering on a dessert.

But that's not really him.

The day he asks you to be exclusive, he calls you over to his place under the guise of helping him learn to cook. You both make a mess in his kitchen as you attempt to make your favorite meal—at his request, of course. You're laughing at the sauce all over his apron when he looks over at you—undeniable fondness in his eyes. It's not words written by a chef or spelled out in balloons when he asks. It's Jude's hands cradling your face, his voice softly saying your name and asking: "will you be mine?"

He kisses you when you say yes and you feel like crying—the tender moment scraping your heart raw. Your relationship starts with tears and somehow, that aspect never leaves.

Mostly, it's happy tears. You tear up whenever you watch Jude lift up a trophy, knowing how much hard work he put in. You tear up when he brings you to award ceremonies, his blinding smile meeting yours from the stage.

Sometimes, it’s simply tears of sadness. You fight over Instagram likes, tabloid headlines and models in his DMs. The argument only ending once you started crying, Jude stopping mid sentence to embrace you in his arms.

He hates seeing you cry, especially when it's because of him.

It takes a few weeks, but not you had both grown past that—Jude keeping his likes and follows clean, you doing your part to ignore the media.

Still, even now when you knew it was all fake, you hated seeing articles with Jude and random pretty faces paired off with him. But the media's presence in Jude's life is just one of those things you had accepted.

There are other things about Jude that you came to terms with. His competitiveness would always mix into your relationship in the form of jealousy. He wouldn't get angry but he hated the way men would drag their eyes all over you. You always assured Jude there's no man you wanted how deeply and intensely you wanted him. On nights he was particularly tense, you would laugh and tell him women were doing the same to him—just more subtly.

That would only make him frustrated, which was what you wanted, because it made Jude fiery. Passionate. He made love like he played football, which is to say with intensity, stamina, and unyielding focus. Every touch deliberate. Every movement full of energy. Leaving you breathless and exhilarated, as if you were in the final moments of a thrilling game.

Jude is charming, talented and good looking, but that was just the surface. In reality, he is one of the most complex people you know.

He wears thousand dollar designer but nothing made him happier than your homemade gifts—the pottery you made for your six month anniversary, the scarf you knitted for his birthday, the scrapbook you put together just cause. His attention to detail when it comes to you is second to none. You told him your favorite flower once months ago, now your shared apartment never lacks the pretty petals.

But the thing about him that never fails to amaze you is how much love he has to give to the world. A young fan would never be denied a signature. A grandma would always get a kiss on the cheek. No matter how busy or tired he was, he always made time for others.

There's nobody that knew this more than you.

When he is traveling between cities or stuck in traffic, he calls just to hear your voice. On rare free weekends, he whisks you away to charming little towns and quiet villas.

You ask him once, "Me or football?", and your voice is more sincere than the humorous tone you intended.

Jude looks at you with eyes dripping honey and says, "You, always you. The game is my passion, but you're my heart and my everything."

[evelyn-is-eccedentesiasts]

Ninjago Headcanons (Random)

Just some Random Ninjago Headcanons

Lloyd

Sleeps with a nightlight

Nightowl (Has trouble falling asleep)

Has to be reminded to drink water

Has to put alot sugar and honey in his tea

Sleeps with a bunch of blankets and then ends up kicking them off in his sleep

Kai

Hates the winter and snow especially after the events of the forbidden scrolls

Likes the beach to sun tan, and take beach pics only

Puts too much spice when it's his turn to cook meals

Carries hot sauce packets with him, when they go to restaurants beacuse he thinks the food is always too bland

Actually a really good house cleaner, and knows how to fold clothes really well

Cole

Always has some kind of candy on him, that he gives to the others

Usually in the kitchen getting midnight snacks, and probably has a snack cuboard in his room

Sleeps with a bunch of pillows

Thinks dolls are creepy

Probably wirtes poetry (It's actually really good but he shows it to no one)

Jay

Will often blast music too loud

Wears matching clothes with Nya

Sends memes to the other Ninja, and often will send pictures of cute animals couples to Nya. With the caption, (You and Me)

Honestly gives really good movie suggestions

Will often forget he placed things in the microwave and then have to reheat it later on

Zane

Occasionally makes beeps when sleeping, (sort of his version of snoring)

Likes watching cooking shows in his down time

Is the best Gift giver out of the team

Instinctively cleans messes, as well as other Ninjas' messes

Always gives really good advice

Nya

Tries to make sure everyone always feels inculded

Still tinkers occasionally and will often work with Pixal on projects

Almost always late to palces if she is showing up alone

Has broken many stress balls

Has taught a self defense seminar

Pixal

Visits her father when possible

Probably knows alot of the teams secrets, as they will come to rant to her as she works

Even though she doesn't really need to eat, she always comes up to dinner

Has pulled many many overnighters

Is the teams event coordinator

Misty (OC)

Likes to volunteer at animal shelters

Nightowl, stays up with Lloyd and will bing tv shows together

Collects Tarot card decks (Gives scarily accurate readings)

Likes wearing heels but has trouble walking in them

Wants a pet cat (Can't because Wu's allergic)

[a-d-nox]

wyrd web: what to gift a person based these three numbers

this is just a theory of mine because these bubbles of the matrix should represent earthly desires. this is not to say that you can't enjoy things not listed in your category / under your energetic number. this is simply what i believe people with these numbers would enjoy receiving as a gift.

2 - the high priestess

things that support their spiritual practices, things that support feminine health (hum women's probiotics bundle, honey pot oral vaginal care probiotic, etc), bake goods / baking gear, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads pt 2), bar in a jar (for those of drinking age) or really any beverage tester kit, bath/spa kit, beach vacation, boat, cruise, careof for brain support, truly nice melons boob butter, candles (it doesn't have to be yankee candle either - bent candles, spiced votive candle, etc) or candle making kit, imported cheeses, clothing staples (blue jeans, black turtleneck, etc), juice cleanse or other things that support digestive health, cooking classes or meal kits (hellofresh, homechef, etc), a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, or outdoor cameras or other home security tools

3 - the empress

pillows, stuffed animals, rose quartz, personal celebrity cameo, clothing, tickets for an art museum tour, ballet tickets or classes, art supplies, makeup pallets and/or brushes, flowers, jewelry, candy/sweets, money, bells / wind chimes, clothing, designer pieces, cosmetics, dolls, a trip to a fancy restaurant, fruit basket / dried fruits, gardening supplies, jewelry, concert/orchestra tickets, poetry book, tickets to a play, a purse, lingerie (if y'all are close like that), trip to a vineyard (for those of drinking age), couples' dancing classes, or a wallet

4 - the emperor

skincare, rock climbing voucher or some other physical activity they enjoy, an adrenaline rush activity (skydiving, bungee jumping, etc), careof for brain support, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), coffee trials/samplers, sunglasses, blue light glasses, hair care products/supplies, scalp treatments/care, oral health care (thera breath, whitening products, etc), meditation app subscriptions / in person sessions for meditation, or a planner

5 - the hierophant

moss agate (don't question how random that sounds this is some intuitive stuff), artwork, an architectural tour, beauty products/supplies, historically significant objects, pastries or sweets/candies, earrings, sour dough starter kit, jewelry in general, piano/organ lessons, singing lessons, a wallet, or any classes where they can learn something fun and new to them

6 - the lovers

car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), bicycle or bicycle accessories/gear, books (the more educational the better), briefcase / work tote, bus tickets for a day trip, gym membership or soulcycle classes, crystals, a standing desk / cute office supplies (for the work girlies both those who work in office and from home), hand & foot message, manicure voucher, newspaper subscription (i am a fan of new york times, washington post, and the new yorker), language classes or rosetta stone subscription, magazines subscription, merchandise from their favorite singer / group / tv show / movie, train trip, or we're not really strangers card packs

7 - the chariot

gardening supplies, hermit crab, baked goods, bath products / beauty products, boat, cruise, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), truly nice melons boob butter, juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, glassware / blown glass, stuff they need / need for their home (security system, chest freezer, etc), hotel or bed & breakfast stay, kitchenware, lake trip, pearls, real estate / land, restaurant voucher / gift card, silver jewelry, shopping gift cards, a trip, or intention journal

8 - strength

amusement park tickets, supplies for their passion projects, ballroom dancing classes, tea sampler, games (video games or board games), movie theater gift card, personal celebrity cameo, flower garden supplies/seeds, stuff for their pet, or a belt

9 - the hermit

pet related gifts (if they have a pet that is), bookshelves (they probably need one), juice cleanse, gut health thrive market kit, a cat, clothing, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), stationary, emergency preparedness (ready to eat meals, fire blanket, etc), cook books, dining ware (new plates/bowls, cups / glassware, silverware, etc), food subscriptions (home chef, hello fresh, pickle of the month club, bokksu japanese snack box, etc), careof subscription, gloves, herb garden kit, a one way ticket to anywhere, or a hiking trip

10 - wheel of fortune

incense, cleansing herbs, bow and arrow, sapling, land, dried berries, budget book, gym/exercise membership, religious/spiritual/philosophical books, poker set, cloth (if they like sowing), wool (if they like weaving, crocheting, and/or knitting), wool clothing, a coat, trip to a country or place they have never been, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), etiquette classes/books (this is great for the traveler because they are often interested in learning customs before going on their trip), figs, fruit basket (like edible arrangements), honey sampler / royal jelly, horseback riding lessons, lottery tickets, merchandise from their favorite singer / group/ tv show / movie, shoes, really any game, any subscription they have not tried, things that support their spiritual practices, or book on positive mindset

11 - justice

personal celebrity cameo, tickets to a ballet or to an art gallery, air purifier, portable heating pad, spa voucher, cosmetics, lingerie (if y'all are close), closet organizational items (space saving hangers, linen bins, accessory hanger, etc), pastries and sweets, diamonds (perhaps propose to your lover), a dress, tickets to a fashion show or exhibit, flowers, a luxury chair, jewelry, concert tickets, poetry books, any quartz pieces, chocolates dipped strawberries, hair extensions, logic puzzles, a voucher for an escape room, or a kitchen/baking scale

12 - the hanged man

bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), a book on angel numbers, a book on natural medical remedies, ballet classes or tickets to see a ballet, bath bombs and other bath goodies (salt, bath table, candles, sugar scrub, bath teas, etc), beach vacation, tea or coffee sampler, butterfly farm kit with caterpillars, disposable camera or a camera they would like (polaroid, filming, etc), scientific kits (geode kit, grow your own crystals, etc), cigars (for the dads in your life), unsolved mysteries or crime kit, dance classes, smutty/romance/fantasy books, fairy garden, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, budget book, makeup palettes or other cosmetic they enjoy, concert tickets, paint, poetry books, clue the board game, a pass to an indoor pool, a book on poppet making, meditation membership or a voucher for in-person sessions, or something to support their curiosity for new spiritual insight

13 - death

hermit crab, a jumping spider, a reptile, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, operation the game, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, beginners chemistry kit, a colon cleanse, sea monkeys, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, philosophy of death books, books on magic, magic the gathering the card game, period products (portable heating pad, the diva cup, etc), poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), a frog pond, a scorpion, a snake, a burr/boo basket (these people love seasonal stuff), or marie kondo's life changing magic of tidying up

14 - temperance

a hunting trip, bow and arrows, books on religion or philosophy, book of devotions, book on dream meanings (hello, freud haha), a certification course or college class, horseback riding lessons (for the newbie or a younger sibling or your child/niece/nephew), horse drawn carriage ride (for the couples *smirk*), logic puzzles, things that support their goals, or a book of angel number meanings

15 - the devil

a fan or air conditioning unit, if you have the land for it a cow/horse/goat, kinetic tape, arnicare bruise cream (this is a joke... unless...), coal or a diamond (this is also a joke... unless...), a clock or a watch, cuticle trimmer (and other nail care things), room darkening curtains, a happy lamp, lotion/cream, hat/scarf/gloves, hair products (extensions, shampoo subscription, etc), leather fashion-ware, gardening supplies, ice maker, or a juice cleanse

16 - the tower

tiger balm or other pain relieving ointment, acrobatic/gymnastic classes, homeopathic books for natural cures and remedies, first-aid kit, baking kits, barbecue sauce sampler, barbecue sauce sampler / grilling gear (for the dads), gift card for haircut, dollar shave club (for the dads pt 2), metal works (spoon handle rings, metal roses, etc), boxing lessons, boxing match tickets or monster truck tickets, butcherbox subscription, a book on how to cook and trim meats, crafted wooden objects (cutting boards, tables, etc), cactus plant, beginners chemistry kit, cookbook, pocket knife or leatherman/multitool, tool kit, jenga, emergency kit, food, first aid kit, merchandise for their favorite superhero(es), electric lighter, liqour or bar in a jar (if they are of drinking age), rock music (a vinyl or concert tickets), pepper plant, pipe for smoking (if they like to smoke that is - my grandfather had a collection), lego kit, or lincoln logs

17 - the star

friendship bracelets, a fan / ac unit, model airplane, flight lessons, compression stockings/socks, architectural tour, astrology reading, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), electronic devices (a new phone, amazon fire stick, solar portable charger, etc), movie on blue-ray or dvd, movie gift card, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, shadow work journal, aesthetically pleasing bluetooth retro radio, streaming service subscription, a book on health or mental health, or a book on positivity

18 - the moon

abstract art, bar in a jar (if they are of legal age), a fish, a fish tank, tickets to an aquarium, cocktail book (if they are of legal age), a fishing trip (for the dads), book of conspiracy theories, the conspiracy theory map, a crystal ball, unsolved mysteries or crime kit, a jellyfish, a tarot/astrology/mediumship reading, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, poetry book, hydroponic starter system, games that involve bluffing (clue, poker, herd mentality, etc), shoes, sleeping eye mask, silk pillow cases, new bed sheets, bonnet, socks, a computer keyboard, typewriter, a book on shadow work, a puppy, or a book on dream meanings

19 - the sun

maine coon, autobiographical books, ballroom dancing lessons, poker set, oral health products (thera breath, whitening products, etc), card games, personal celebrity cameo, circus fruit basket, chocolate gold coins, classes that encourage creativity (create it and break it sessions, pottery classes, etc), jewelry or an engagement ring (if it's been more than 2 years y'all should know what you are doing at this point), flowers, indoor herb garden, tickets to race of some sort (cars, horse, sporting events, etc), sporting equipment, ivy plant, a pottery painting voucher / gift certificate, or something for their passion project / hobby

20 - judgment

a reptile, ant farm, a guide on astral projection, operation the game, the chameleon game, clue game, unsolved case files game, grand theft auto video game, assassins creed video game, dungeons and dragons the game, yahtzee, emergency preparedness kit, magician kit, poisonous plants (belladonna, foxglove, lily of the valley, etc), the divine comedy, puzzles, a rodent of some sort, or lingerie (if y'all are close)

21 - the world

gardening supplies, acoustic guitar, air conditioning or fan, architectural tour, teddy bear, snow globe, boots, calendar or planner, supergoop (sun protectant) products, wooden objects (cutting board, chest, box, etc), carpet, clay (air drying or via kiln), a clock or watch, compression stockings/socks, collectible coins, pain patches or kinetic tape, crystals, budget book, lotions for dry skin, dried fruits, gloves/mittens, hair care products, ice machine or ice making trays, ice cream subscription, pottery classes, rain coat, real estate or land, zen sand garden, sculpture, or snake

22 - the fool

flight lessons, model airplane, a flight to anywhere, car stuff (seat covers, cup holder coasters, etc), an astrology reading, bath products, biking gear, movie theatre gift card, clock or watch, club memberships (golf, racket ball, sam's, etc), mood lighting or strip lights, a train ride, fun magnets, motorcycle accessories/training, microphone (maybe they are filming or recording something), patterns for cross stitch / knitting / crocheting, a camera (polaroid or another type they have been eyeing), disposable cameras, camera gear, stuff for the tv (surround sound, sound bar, streaming subscription, etc), or classes for one of their interests

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[studentinpursuitofclouds]

A random thought, during the Mr. Qi's Crop Challenge (you know the one were you have to plant and shipped 500 Qi Beans) how will the SDV/SVE Bachelors gonna react to their lover (the Farmer) planting this weird looking crop that looks like a blueberry with sunglasses across the farm fields. 😂

Ah, Qi beans... Probably my least favourite quest, because spending a whole month growing this stuff, and also getting these fucking beans instead of cool gifts in chests or fish.... Ugh. Oh well, sorry for that 😅

Even though this fruit is annoying to me, the ask itself regarding the reactions of others to it is pretty funny, hee hee. Thanks for the ask, and enjoy! 🫰💖

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelors react to the Qi fruit:

"Looks creepy..... And cool, by the way. What did you do to make them grow like that?" Sebastian's spouse is a virtuoso at growing all sorts of unusual crops, and he thinks it's a mega cool ability. Just a week ago they ate a salad made from an 'ancient fruit', and the day before yesterday they cut up a giant mushroom crop that was the size of a large pumpkin (even though Sebby's doesn't like shrooms, it was still cool!). Now it's the weird fruit with sunglasses. He wonder what unusual plant Farmer will grow tomorrow...

"Oh, I know! Are those fruits and vegetables that grow in different shapes?" Sam recently watched a video about gardeners who grow square watermelons or tomatoes in the shape of hearts using plastic moulds. So the guitarist reckoned his spouse had decided to join the trend too. A strange choice, yeah, but hey - bonus for cool sunglasses! And what does this 'Qi' fruit taste like? Looks like a giant blue melon, Sammy wouldn't mind a tasty snack. Anyway, he doesn't know much about gardening himself, so he'll leave that to Farmer.

"Did you buy sunglasses for every fruit you grow or what?" And tell us, dear Alex - why would your beloved Farmer do that? These things maybe look like sunglasses, but are hardly sunglasses. But who knows? It's definitely an unfamiliar fruit for an athlete, especially compared to what his grandmother Evelyn used to grow in the community garden all the time. But if it's edible and full of vitamins (no), then Alex doesn't really care about the look of the Qi fruit. "Hey, even if this tastes awful, we'll have plenty of pairs of sunglasses!"

"That's some ugly ass fruit right here. Do people really eat that stuff now?" Truth be told, while working at JojaMart, Shane had managed to see stranger products labelled as 'novelty'. This applied not only to obscure sauces and snacks of dubious origin, but also to fruits and vegetables. The blue colour of the "Qi" fruit Farmer grew generally gave Shane the idea that his spouse had purchased the seeds just from Joja.co. It looked strange, but Shane didn't even mind tasting it. If it's edible at all. This fruit certainly doesn't get any worse than Joja's 'special' sauce for nachos, of that he's sure.

"Honey, are you sure it's safe to eat?" Every time another crop of obscure origin ripens on the farm, Harvey's heart begins to pound with worry. What if it's poisonous? What if it's not handled properly and you could get food poisoning? Why is it such a strange shape? "Farmer, please..." The poor doctor goes through all the books on vegetables, fruits and berries, hoping to find some information about this Qi fruit and whether it's okay to eat it (spoiler - to no avail). Either it's another "healthy" product from Joja or something else. Either way, Harvey will be sceptical, to say the least.

"...If I understand correctly, my soul, this is our dinner for today?" Elliott could have sworn the fruit had just winked at him! The writer had heard that some farmers and gardeners deliberately grow their crops in a variety of shapes to make them look extravagant and sell them for more money, but... Of all the shapes, his spouse chose the face... But maybe that's the kind of crop that's in high demand on market right now. Elliott hoped that if they were to bake strudel with this 'Qi' fruit today, it would taste better than it looked. Also... sunglasses?

"Hmm, I wonder... Where exactly did you get those seeds, my love?" It is not appropriate for Lance to judge the strange crop that Farmer has grown, when the adventurer himself has a monster crop ripening in a corner on the farm, with an appearance similar to a huge eyeball. Nevertheless, this strange fruit arouses a share of suspicion in the pink-haired man. Something is not right here.... If his dear spouse doesn't mind, Lance would also like to take a look at this fruit, for he is very curious to know if this crop has any magical properties. Or anything that might threaten him or Farmer.

"This... thing is unnatural. What in the name of all spirits did you grow this abomination from?" Magnus's whole gut screams that this is not just a fruit, but the spawn of a dangerous mage or witch. Thin threads of dark magic emanate from this fruit, and the wizard certainly doesn't like Farmer being in contact with that magic. "Eat it? Absolutely not! And is it even edible?" A worried Magnus questions his spouse about who gave them these seeds and why. Hearing the name 'Qi', he sighs heavily. Mr. Qi. Of course... This name definitely promises a lot of chaos for everyone.

"Erm... That's wonderful, darling! You've managed to grow this, um... What's it called again?" Victor had spent two whole days in the town library and looked all sorts of books at home - not a single mention, about this mysterious 'Qi fruit'. It's not, to tell the truth, the strangest thing Farmer grew in their fertile fields (monster crops will always be at the top of the list for strangeness. Especially the one with the giant eyeball). Maybe it's some new fruit his spouse has discovered? Victor is sure the Farmer knows what they're doing. But yeah, he's supportive.