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therealslimshakespeare · 1 month ago

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IM SO FUCKING EXCITED

🫨🤯🥳🎉🫶🫰🤯🫨🫣🤭🤠

Benny n’ Lu - Touch

Smutty af stand alone future scene

Lu’s legs have gone from swinging against the cabinets to splaying askew of her body on the counter, bronzed and freshly washed feet all too close to the vegetables but Benny scoots his cutting board away and chooses something else besides aggravation, because he is tired of that feeling, and he is down here to feel -no, to do…something else.

“We add the tomato at the end. The end, Lu.” he had to stalk her helping handfull of freshly diced ruby red goodness earlier before she plopped it into his sizzling garlic. And it reminds him of his Ma, when he plays cook like this for her, the passion it brings out that is all to be expected at home but here Lu giggles and bumps his back, chastised grin on her face.

He hands her a towel and rolls his eyes, like this is his kitchen not hers. She’s been violating a lotta rules for “his” kitchen but Benny is choosing not to be aggravated tonight. He takes a breath and remembers that. “What is this about your mama?” she brings up his introductory line when he first arrived here the other day, there never was a good time to pick it back up. Not until now.

Now’s not a good time but Benny’s found that outrunning it isn’t doing a great deal of good. “Ma thinks another baby’s a good idea.”

Lu’s face creases in mild confusion. “She wants you to start before finding a wife?”

Benny finds himself choking on his spit instead of laughing, he oughta be laughing but she looks so earnest. “Nah, nah.”

“Didn’t sound like her.” Lu mutters.

He waves his hand to clear away the misconception, “Nah. Her. Thinks another baby, at her age, AT MY AGE, thinks another baby’s swell. -Sweet, precious, won’t he be a darling Benny.” by the feminine mimicry in his voice Lu gets the general impression and her eyes widen, “I’m thirty years old.” he points at his chest, “And I’m gonna have a kid sibling.”

“She’s the one having a baby?” Lu gasps, cheeks pink and for once since she pulled up in his drive months ago, there’s the little girl he remembers.

“Yeah.”

“Oh Benny.”

“Yeah.”

“Does your father know?”

“Better, it’s his.”

“It’s his?”

“Course it’s his, Lu!”

“Benny, my, my my.”

“Thought about shacking up with Jack but the guest room’s full. Like usual.” Demarco stirs round his garlic with finesse that only barely tempers his frustration and realizes he has not succeeded at being less than aggravated but Lu doesn’t seem to mind.

“Who’s in the guest room?” she asks innocently.

“Bucky.” she has got to know by now that Bucky hasn’t fucking left and never will at this rate, Bucky doesn’t visit the place, he lives there. They’d have to burn the room down to get his smell out by now.

Lu just smiles, pleased by something. Maybe that Bucky’s found a place to land in his subordinate’s back yard. “So you came down here.” she says instead and Benny’s heart skips a beat at her contented sigh.

“Worked out with the dates ya sent.” he shrugs and it’s time for the onions.

He feels the distinct warmth in his cheeks of someone studying him as he pours them in. He’s getting used to that around her, even under the Texas sun he knows what’s what, which is heat stroke and which is the heady beam of Tallulah Smith’s attention. He’s very diligent with his onions and the basil and thyme, he’s never anything less than diligent at this stage of the cooking and it wouldn’t do to glance up right now and get a swooping feeling from her staring at him when this could all caramelize too fast and become crispy and charred.

“It really throws ya, huh?” she says after awhile.

His eyes stay glued to his task. “What?”

“This baby.”

“Just- little screwy. S’not like I ain’t happy for Ma.” he mutters, because it’s not so bad. Some boys are getting word their moms are dying or their dads have left, all this does is make home feel a little less like the hermitage it’s been for these past four years. A little less like the place where he could hole up and say he was doing alright, all things considered for a man living with his mother at age thirty. He scrapes at the pan like it’s offended him, regrets it right away when browned residue mixes with his precious sautée.

He is trying to formulate an apology for his bad mood and poor manners when he feels a tug in his waistband. She’s still sat on the counter, there’s no dogs jumping up on him, and Benny doesn’t really go for believing in ghosts. It makes him freeze as he tries to understand it. What’s tugging at his belt. He glances over and Lu has her knuckle between her teeth, trying to hide a huge grin, her leg extended out to its farthest and very lengthy abilities, toes snagged in his belt loop; tugging him near.

Benny irrationally thinks of nothing but clutching his spatula as he stumbles closer, a sideways gait as she tugs, his sizzling concoction left to the mercy of the element. He looks utterly befuddled by the time he's truly between the v of her legs. “You look so cute all miffed about this,” she sighs, like she’s holding it against him, “didn’t take you to be bashful about babies.”

“M’not.” he frowns at her hand on his shoulder and his hips so near to the countertop and- and to hers.

“You’re pink.” she torments with a little giggle and his frown deepens. “You do know how they’re made, yes, Captain? When folks don’t use their balloons right.” the old joke takes a few seconds to land but he snorts, half hearted, when it does.

He seems to be waiting for something, almost like he’s expecting a dressing down when finally he drags his eyes from his surroundings to meet hers, a little timid, frustration etched onto his forehead, “Why’d ya pull me’like this?” he asks, apparently distressed by it, by her toes in his belt and curled on his belly, by the way her thigh is bent up to her chest and her dress falls away around her; any other man would have taken the invitation and been near his culmination by now. Benny just holds his spatula and looks ready to be punished or to punish in return.

“Because you look precious when your miffed about babies.” Lu returns to her original point and that wary look crosses his face once more and its shuttering and cloudy and foreign to such a nice face, it breaks her heart a little when he does.

“Lu.” There’s a heap of admonition and more than a little aggravation in the single syllable.

It’s almost strong enough to dissuade her, but it’s been dulled after weeks of it being said wanting, teasingly, pleasingly, affectionately. “Benny.” she begs softly, “Kiss me again.”

It’s been a full day and they’ve not done it again, not even acknowledged it happened the once. And Lu aches for it. The way his body seems to expand at her request suggests he does too, Benny looks utterly ravenous for a split second before grief takes over. “Nah, nah don’t be askin’ that Lu, ya don’t wanna be askin that.”

He’s no tease. He pulls away as he denies her and he’d make it back to his place by the stove if her toes hadn't gotten such a hold in his belt loops.

“Lu!” it comes out a breathy laugh and he’s trying, she can see that, the mirthful attempt to shrug her off. Before he kissed her she might’ve taken it as genuine discouragement, but since that hungry moment of joy she can’t again see him as indifferent. She digs in and flexes her foot, pulls again. “Lu.”

“I am askin’ Benny.”

“You don’t wanna-“ he reminds, stronger and he’s got the spatula pointed at her and he reaches to turn down his burner and she’s glad of it because he’s going to be distracted for some time if she gets her way.

“I do, want to. I want to. I want you to.” it sounds far more like an argument coming out of her mouth than she had expected, and that was relieving, the confident voice of a girl luring him in, she wasn’t sure how she would manage it when she first decided she must tonight. “I don’t sleep any more, Benny, my work is suffering and it’s all because I stare at the ceiling and think about you. You and your shoulders and the tuck of your mouth and the way you grabbed me and how nice you tasted when you kissed me and how I want to—“ in his shock at her admission he lets her tug him closer, stiff necked and wide eyed though he remains, and she slips a hand back onto his tremendous shoulder and squeezes, “-and do this.” she emphasizes with another grip of the meat near his neck and his large brown eyes give a pleading little SOS before becoming glittery, heavy and succumbed. “Benny won’t you kiss me?” she begs so close, “Kiss me and put me to sleep, it’s been days since I caught a wink. You could fix it, I know you could.”

He stares at her lips as she speaks like a drunken man, then up to her eyes, then back down. He straightens his posture suddenly and Lu fears he may reject her and then she watches as he turns and pushes his pan off the burner entirely before turning back to her and placing his spatula on the counter by her hip. He takes the dish towel from her hands and places it beside his utensil. That done he looks her in the eyes and cups her face. Benny Demarco’s kisses are intoxicatingly smooth as Lu remembers, unlike any she’s ever had before and the way he holds her cheeks and tips her chin and carries out little side quests to lick the corner of her lips and kiss along her cheeks down to her jaw, how the sounds really make the noise of smooching, the way he is lazy but sure. Lu moans in relief into his mouth and his other hand, one she had not even known to miss that must have been idle before, moves from the back of her head to her waist and pulls her closer to the edge, nearer his hips, tipping her backwards, giving him back the leverage of his height. She dangles against the steadying support of his palm and lets him devour her.

When she bucks her hips up, against his own, that alone makes him pause. He mumbles against her lips, eyelashes fluttering in a tickle against her cheek, “Can ya not take care of yourself?” it’s almost pleading, as if he’s found her out with a poor argument.

Lu feels her cheeks burn and she has a lie, a quip, a flirt right at hand for this sort of question, but this isn’t Spencer who would recoil at her mentioning her impediments, and it’s not one of the sweet army boys, each a fresh well that she poisoned bitter by the white lies she told so she didn’t have to feel less with them. So they didn’t go from hungry to sorry, admiring to pitious. Something in her squeezes and aches at the idea of tainting this moment with a fib, no matter how silly or complimentary.

Benny knows enough, he knows enough about more than her. Benny knows.

“I- I don’t actually.” she admits, can tell her voice has gone shy again and it was her worst fear earlier tonight but right now, as Benny stays close and quite obviously does some serious thinking with his nose pressed alongside hers and his body very still as it gets sometimes when he’s trying to solve his thoughts, it’s nothing at all alarming.

She can see down the slope of his cheek when Benny licks his lips, in preparation for a well thought out question that is stuttered in delivery all the same. “Ya don’t…wanna? Or ya don’t. Don’t take care- yourself.”

It’s a bit of both that results in the latter. There is something genuinely disturbing and utterly clinical to her about feeling down there. A lover’s touch is welcome but her own seems remote in the extreme. “It never has the desired effect.” she admits, voice very thin.

Benny’s nod is almost imperceptible if he wasn’t so near and she was so desperate for it. “So ya wanted me, want me,” he corrects, “ -to take care of ya?”

“Please.” she begs instantly.

Benny shakes his head again, this time it feels different, like denial and less like understanding. She wants to panic. “That’s a tall order, Tallulah.” he gets out a shaky laugh that’s no laugh at all and it ghosts against her mouth, “Girl like you.” he sounds marveling when he says it and she wonders if he really means that being here after she shouldn’t be anymore is wonderful, if the way she keeps pushing her luck with him is at all wonderful, if having been so utterly rearranged down there she can hardly call it her own any more makes her wonderful.

“Please.” is all she’s got and she feels Benny’s intake of breath beneath her hands as they rest on his shoulders.

“Ya sure?” he asks, soft.

“I’m close to dying here, Benny.” She croaks, she’s been dying for him for months, and when he kisses her again, sure and promising; the panic flees.

His hand around her wrist follows, and it’s confusing but steady so she lets him as he draws it between her own legs, his fingers wrapped around her most dainty bones and ligaments an intimate thing, drawn between her warm thighs and her dress shifts further to allow it.

This feels more virginal than even those first groping forays with Spencer. It feels far more than the good natured reciprocity with Donny, the mutual exchange with Steve, a hand for a hand, something to be waved off the next day. Last night's kiss proved that much already, Lu wanted something from this man this time, and unlike the others, she was the chaser now. The sight of the ever correct Benny Demarco caving to her influence melted the tight string drawn up inside her, buzzing like a live wire, and made it pool low and slick where he was taking her fingers.

Her own fingers.

It was only some age old deference and the feeling of it being Benny, and that Benny never made a bad call, Benny got his back laid open to spare her once, to spare them all, Benny shouldered everything so well. Whatever he intended to do now would be the best way the thing could be done.

She told herself that again and again as she watched, as if in slow motion, her hand be led between her thighs, to the nylon patch of blue silk covering where she was dripping into the fabric despite her flinching flesh.

She wanted him to touch her. Not this. She’d told him it didn’t work. She was almost scared it would this time, under the spell of whatever heady peacefulness he brought around with him, only for it to go back to being broken in his absence. Not this. “Benny, please-“

“Hey look at me,” he interjected instead, soft and utterly compelling, she did, she couldn’t not obey, and their fingers hovered there as their eyes connected, wet nylons just beyond the graze of their touch, “do I make you this wet?” their noses almost touched they’d swayed so close, there was no way she could cover her flinch. The words were too reminiscent, evoking the worst bits of shame, the worst doubts about herself and her broken enjoyment of what should appall her, it was the guards and her blood all over again, it was Spencer and making her beg for it. “There’s not a reason on earth,” Benny’s low accent was cutting through, she needed him to keep talking, maybe he knew, he had to know he made her wet, she should tell him he did—“that a pretty girl like you shouldn’t feel how lovely she is like this. Close to steamin’ you’re so revved up, feel that? Feel that, pretty baby?”

She needed him to keep talking. She needed him too. That alike was different. That alone made this ok, that-

“I’m here, I’ll keep talkin’ you through it.” Benny mumbled, soothing- had she said that aloud? “But I know you’re brave enough to try, cmon Lu, press a little, lemme make you feel baby.”

Guided by his hand she felt her folds and slopes beneath the fabric, a double sensation along fingertips and corresponding along genitals. Something removed about it still but nearer than it had ever been, feeling closer to touching herself than she had in awhile. His kisses had awoken that taut bud at the apex of her womanhood, it caught on the upward drag of her fingers and she felt her breath gust against his lips and back on her own, “Jesus you’re perfect.” Benny let the words be punched out of him in gruff awe as they rolled her bud between them and the ever more obnoxious scrap of underwear between them.

“Fingers-“ she panted, nose knocking his, “inside, I need-“ she’d die from his kisses, she’d die without them and he was so generous with lathing at her lips, “get these off!” she finished, utterly lost for patience with the nylons. Nothing about him suggested he needed to be begged but something prompted her all the same to add on a small “please?”

The look Benny gave her was reward enough for that. “We can do anything you damn well like, Tallulah.” he observed and was hooking his fingers into her waistband before she could manage herself.

The rush of cool air and the freedom of sensation was just satisfying enough to outweigh the nervousness of being so utterly exposed, bare and propped up on the countertop, such a mistreated bit of herself on full display, duskier and different than most men had ever seen. She shouldn’t have even bothered with insecurities, for all his confidence in ridding her of her underwear, Benny seemed to have lost it, or his brains or his power of movement at least, at the sight of her.

“Something was said about whatever I pleased?” she teased with a nervous chuckle and he genuinely seemed to startle, his hand going to his mouth and wringing it, like he’d gotten such a rush his tongue had gone prickly from it. He finally let the price of clothing fall there beside the stove, catching her extended foot in his large, calloused hand this time and dragging a path up her leg on the way back to her this time, her fluttering dress hem making a makeshift peekaboo tease of what he’d just uncovered.

“What would please you?” he asked, and something about it was so low and full of promise she shuddered on her perch against the cabinets.

She couldn’t choose something first. She knew so much of what she didn’t want but even that when done with him was proving not so bad. And the old gut feeling of trust for him made her want to defer, not like how it had been with Spencer but like she trusted a better decision to be made for her then by her. “Whatever you…” honesty had been a rewarded course of action these last few months, it had led to this, it had led to him holding her bare thighs apart with tanned hands and offering to pleasure her any way she wanted. “Whatever you think I…” it was humiliating honestly but- “need.” she got it out.

The way his eyes blazed like she’d tossed a log on the fire by her words made her feel close to climaxing from the visceral intensity of that alone. The kiss he forced on her the next instant knocked the wind out of her and the giddy rush it sent though Lu had her writhing against him, fingers digging into his shirt and the firm pecs beneath its starched white propriety, her legs alight with the feeling his grip keeping them apart and her weeping womanhood ground against the front of his tented slacks until she quivered all over from it. “I’ll make it better.” he muttered thickly into her left ear, having excavated it and the bronze pillar of her neck beneath the curtain of back hair he was running his hands though like it was liable to drown him. “I’ll take care of you.”

There was only want left in her, no room for embarrassment or the feel of being patronized. Only want and it being solved. Only Benny and his fingers mercifully taking the place of her own and his kisses. And his talk. He didn’t stop talking, not once, talking about how beautiful she was and how crazy and he’d die for this or might die for this and it didn’t make much sense but she got the impression he was going through some fit of passion equal to hers, maybe even complimentary, and didn’t bother with clarifications. She listened and she clenched helplessly around two long fingers pumping in and out of her with the most clever thumb in existence doing a terrifying and magical swipe of her clitoris at every plunge.

“Tell me you can feel that.” he demanded and she felt her head jerk in acknowledgment before the words fully caught up to her. “You feel yourself? You feel allllll that? This is what you were made for, to lose your goddamn mind with happiness, that’s what. Feel it baby, gush all over my damn hand, that’s it, that’s it all over it, baby come on, I feel you, you feel me?”

She was hoarse from choked breaths, “I feel you.” she swore as her hips bucked and the hand behind her head tightened almost painfully and caused a new wave of fireworks to go off behind her eyelids.

“Gimme your hand.” he didn’t sound done even as she writhed against the continued ministrations, “Lu baby, put your hand on mine, just follow what I do, come on that’s it, that’s it. Follow my hand, I want you to keep doin’ that, we’ll get ya there.”

She’d honestly already gotten there a few times. But somehow she knew he didn’t mean just that. Somehow she was sure he knew somehow that she craved being overwhelmed from it. That somewhere about ten miles past unbearable is where she needed to be taken to be stated.

“Benny-“ she slurred half dumb, half numb from now having his warm and real fingers replaced with her own distasteful ones. The arousal he’d stoked with his own help ease the motion a little, she was slick and swollen and mimicking the teasing circles around her bud that he’d tasked her with continuing even sent up little shocks of pleasure. “Benny what are you-“ she tried to understand as he smooched her lips as if in parting once more, then got on his knees between her spread legs, kitchen mat a poor padding between him and the cold tile.

“Shh, shh I’ll kiss you, don’t stop touchin’ yourself like that, I just gotta kiss you.”

And then he did. Kiss her. Right there where she least expected, where she’d never been kissed, where she’d guarded from an act so utterly intimate. And there was Benny Demarco, with his soft hair and familiar eyes peering up at her over the little hill of her public bone, diminutive nose nestled deep, tongue somewhere she blushed to even consider… oh god, he really meant it.

She’d forgotten to keep swirling her fingers.

“I’m going to die.” She choked out as soon as she inhaled a breath not wasted immediately on letting out the loudest, most pathetic sort of whines. She didn’t know she was capable of whining like this. But then again, Lu had never felt a man dragging his tongue deep inside her and molding her folds with his plush lips like it was some genuine caress. “I can’t take how, this…Benny it’s so much. It’s so-“

-So good she was going to die. She felt herself spasm and dribble. He didn’t stop. He just moaned like he himself were being throated and fondled, sent to the edge of sanity by the first taste of her.

The noises he made, the heavy eyed look on his face, the way he hooked a thumb into each side of her folds and spread her wide just to prolong his talented attack- it sent Lu vibrating on her perch, the oddest feeling taking up its place in her heart alongside the dizzying satisfaction building in the out of her stomach. “Keep them open for me.” he comes up for air to tut, face shiny from her slick but voice as softly commanding as always and Lu spreads her once closing jello legs wide again, “Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I-I’ll keep my legs open…for you.” it feels like a s orgasm in itself just to say it back and get his nod of approval in return.

“That’s my girl.” he commends and rewards her with a fresh wave of something dangerously strong building in the dance between his tongue and her swollen hole. “Keep those fingers going.” he reminds and she tries, it’s distracting if anything, and chafing more than arousing. “Here, spread them a lil, lemme-“ he instructs and she does as he says, spreads her fingers apart and watches in entranced and girlish disbelief and he hovers over them and puckers his lips. The warm, weighty, bizarrely erotic feeling of his spit landing on her swollen clit is enough to tear an obscene moan from Lu’s dry lips.

She genuinely cannot believe her eyes. But her body believes and reacts; Benny arranges her fingers on either side of her bud again and coaxes them back into that sliding rhythm before ducking his face to lick at her swollen flesh between them, working in close collaboration with them to rob her of her sanity.

He made good on his promise to make her feel.

She’s fully alive and fully here, she cannot drift away and imagine anything else, nothing more intense or more consuming. She feels her fingers and she responds to them, she feels his tongue and she cannot get away. She gushes and writhes and locks his head nearer to her with her trembling thighs and Benny’s arms lock around her waist, a ride to the death. He’s moaning like a madman, like he’s drowning in honey, like he’s seen god.

“You’re too much, you’re too much” she accuses with utter gratitude as a kind thing takes her under for once, none of that harsh bullying of pleasure she’d become so addicted to with Spencer. It’s a tongue, soft and wet and used to say nice things that makes her forget everything except how badly she wants Benny Demarco and this and his tongue and his everything always like this. “You belong with your face wet” she swears and his shoulders shake like a shudder has torn through him unallowed, “don’t know about me but you were made for this” she has to conclude and he whines like a kicked dog into her wet heat. “God given, this sorta talent, god Benny, GOD! Oh god I’m going to again-“

“Come on.”

She thinks she hears him, it’s garbled. His hips are rocking below them into thin air. She cums once from that alone: the realization he’s getting off on pleasuring her like this. The stronger her struggle grows, the more she shakes and thrashes, the more pressure he applies. His hand rests around her hips to hold her in place as he sucks on her clit, ardent as if it’ll give him some nourishment. It’s bizarre, she’s losing her mind.

“I said keep them open, Lu.”

He’s making her lose her mind. She hopes she never finds it again. He’s making her lose her mind, he wants her to keep her legs open. She promised. He wants her legs open, he’s not stopping. He’s going to make her lose her mind. She promised. He promised.

“Benny, Benny, Benny-“

Their hands entering, he’s reached his up, it sits in the cradle of thigh, on her tensing belly, fingers woven together, his watch glinting. She stares at the roughened knuckles and feels an old love come back. These have always been good hands. Why did he ever forget how perfectly good he was?

“Benny-“

“I’m here.”

“Benny you’re so good to me.”

“You been s’good for me baby, gimme another, I know you got another, give it to me, give it to me, shit!- you even taste pretty.”

#those who can #Benny x Lu #blurbs #sneak peaks kinda

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goldsainz · 7 months ago

Text

# CL16 — SOUS LES ÉTOILES DE NOËL !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ charles organizes a romantic christmas getaway at his place in the alps.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ none, just fluff!

003. NOTE !

✯ how are you guys liking the christmas specials so far? i’d love to receive some feedback 🫶

word count : 1,8k

The season had been long and grueling, with endless laps around the world’s most challenging circuits. For Charles, the weight of the year lingered in his weary smile as he sent the invitation—a simple text: "Come spend Christmas with me. I have a place in the Alps. Quiet, just us."

The idea of escaping to a secluded chalet in the French Alps was irresistible. You imagined the snowy peaks, the crackle of a fire, and Charles—a vision of peace and charm, unburdened by the pressures of his career. When you finally arrived, the chalet did not disappoint.

Nestled among towering pines, the wooden chalet exudes warmth. Its dark timber beams were wrapped in twinkling lights, and a wreath adorned the door. Inside, a crackling fire bathed the room in golden light. The air smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, as if Christmas itself had taken residence here.

“Bienvenue,” he said softly when you arrived at the chalet, the rich timbre of his accent making the word feel like a gift in itself.

The interior of the chalet was just as inviting as its perfect exterior. Wood-paneled walls gave the space a rustic charm, while the roaring fire in the stone hearth filled the room with both warmth and a golden glow. Cozy blankets were draped over a large, overstuffed sofa, their textures inviting and soft. Pillows in festive patterns—reds, greens, and snowy whites—added a touch of holiday cheer. In the corner, a Christmas tree stood proudly, its branches adorned with ornaments that shimmered in the firelight.

The decorations were simple but thoughtful: glass baubles, wooden stars, and tiny bells that jingled faintly when you brushed past them. At the base, a few gifts wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine added an understated charm.

“It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with quiet awe as you took it all in.

“Not yet,” Charles replied, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “We haven’t had dinner.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and easy. The world outside felt distant, muffled by the thick snow blanketing the mountains and the quiet that seemed to envelop the chalet. The air inside was tinged with the faintest hints of cinnamon and pine, as if Christmas itself had settled into the space. It was as if time had slowed, and for the first time in months, you felt your shoulders relax, your worries dissipating in the tranquil beauty of it all.

The warmth of the chalet wrapped around you both like a cocoon, and Charles seemed just as content. His energy was different here—softer, more at ease. He moved through the space as though he belonged to it, a calm confidence replacing the quick, determined strides you were so used to seeing.

When dinner was ready, it was as comforting as the setting. Charles had gone all out, planning a classic réveillon feast; a French tradition that celebrated indulgence and connection. The dining table, positioned near a wide window overlooking the snowy expanse, was set simply but elegantly. A garland of evergreen branches ran down the center, interspersed with pinecones and tiny white candles in glass holders.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Charles teased, pouring you a glass of red wine, the deep ruby liquid catching the flickering candlelight.

“Starving,” you replied, watching the way the firelight danced in his green eyes.

The first course was a decadent foie gras served with freshly baked baguette, the crust still warm. Charles explained the best way to enjoy it, his enthusiasm lighting up his features.

Next came the main courses—a perfectly roasted goose surrounded by caramelized chestnuts, a creamy potato gratin with just the right amount of nutmeg, and a small mountain of buttered green beans. Each dish was presented with care, and Charles took the time to describe them, his voice filled with pride.

“And these cheeses,” he said as he placed a platter between you, “are from a local farm. The chèvre is incredible, but this one”—he pointed to a soft, creamy wheel—“is my favorite.”

Course after course appeared, each one somehow better than the last. Between bites, you watched Charles relax further, the lines of exhaustion on his face softening with each sip of wine, each shared laugh. He leaned back in his chair at times, his grin easy and boyish as he recounted a particularly funny story from his last race.

By the time dessert arrived—a slightly lopsided bûche de Noël—he was clearly pleased with himself.

“I helped with this one,” he said proudly as he set the chocolate yule log in the center of the table.

“Helped?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your tone skeptical but amused.

“Well,” he admitted, his cheeks turning pink in the firelight, “I might’ve just added the powdered sugar. But still.”

You couldn’t stop smiling as you took a bite, the rich chocolate melting on your tongue. “It’s perfect,” you said, savoring the sweetness.

“Not as perfect as this,” he murmured, his gaze softening as it lingered on you.

The moment held a quiet intensity, the kind that didn’t need words to fill the silence. His subtle grin carried something deeper—gratitude, affection, and perhaps a touch of awe. The world outside the chalet seemed to fade away entirely, leaving only the two of you surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the gentle glow of Christmas.

When the clock neared midnight, Charles stood and reached out his hand. “Come with me,” he said, his tone filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I want to show you something.”

Intrigued, you slid your hand into his, the comforting strength of his grasp sending a rush of warmth through you. Together, you bundled into your coats and scarves, the wool soft against your skin. His touch lingered as he adjusted your scarf, his fingertips brushing your cheek. “There,” he said, satisfied, as if preparing you for a magical adventure.

The crisp night air embraced you as you stepped outside. Snowflakes fell gently, blanketing the world in white, their crystalline forms catching the faint light of the chalet behind you. The snow crunched beneath your boots with each step, the sound punctuating the serene quiet of the forest.

Charles led the way through the towering pines, their branches heavy with snow and glistening faintly under the starlight. The air was so still that every sound—the gentle whisper of the wind, the distant hoot of an owl, and the soft rhythm of his steps beside you—felt amplified, like a symphony composed solely for the two of you.

The clearing appeared almost suddenly, a wide expanse where the snow glittered like diamonds under the infinite sky. Above, the stars stretched endlessly, their brilliance untouched by city lights, casting a serene glow over the scene.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if anything louder would disturb the sanctity of the moment.

“It is,” Charles replied, though his eyes weren’t on the stars. They were fixed on you.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small. The item, a leather notebook with edges slightly worn from use, looked humble yet meaningful in his hands. He extended it toward you, his expression a mixture of shyness and vulnerability, as though he were baring a part of his soul.

“What’s this?” you asked softly, running your fingers over the smooth, weathered cover before flipping it open.

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he said, his voice a touch unsteady but sincere.

The first page held a date, neatly written, and a memory. As you flipped through the notebook, you realized it was filled with moments—days spent laughing over coffee, late nights talking about your dreams, even quiet instances when words weren’t necessary. Each entry was written in his handwriting, neat yet personal, and infused with a warmth that made your chest ache.

“I started writing these when I realized how much they mattered to me,” Charles said, his gaze dropping momentarily to the snow at his feet. “Sometimes, it’s hard to say everything out loud. But I didn’t want to forget any of it. And I wanted you to know.”

Your breath hitched as you turned the pages, each one revealing more of his heart, his care, his love. The notebook wasn’t just a collection of memories; it was a testament to how deeply he cherished your time together.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of emotion.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, stepping closer until his warmth enveloped you. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The snow fell softly around him, clinging to his dark hair and framing his face in a way that made him seem ethereal under the starlight. His green eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that stole the words from your lips.

When he kissed you, it was unhurried and tender, as if time itself had paused to witness the moment. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, and the silent promise written in the stars above.

As he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breath mingled with yours in the cold air, and his voice, thick with emotion, broke the silence. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of everything he felt.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, your heart so full it felt as if it might burst.

Hand in hand, you made your way back to the chalet, the notebook clutched tightly to your chest. The fire had dwindled into glowing embers, casting a soft, golden light across the room as you both settled onto the sofa. Charles wrapped a blanket around you, his arm pulling you close to his side.

The notebook rested in your lap, its pages heavy with meaning. You ran your fingers over the edges, the leather warm from your touch. “I can’t believe you did this,” you said, your voice soft with wonder.

He tilted his head to look at you, his expression unguarded and tender. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. Even when I’m far away, you’re always here,” he said, his hand brushing lightly over your heart.

As the flames crackled softly and the scent of pine lingered in the air, you leaned into his embrace, feeling a peace you hadn’t known in months. The world beyond the mountains felt distant, insignificant compared to the quiet perfection of this moment.

The snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the chalet in serenity. Under the stars of Christmas, everything felt complete, as though the universe itself had conspired to create this magical evening just for the two of you.

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thegunfighters · 27 days ago

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Each Doctor's favorite flavor of Monster Energy (source: I drink way too much Monster)

1st: Zero sugar (Too much sugar is bad for his teeth.)

2nd: Pacific punch juice (Come on, you just know that dude fucking loves himself a good fruit juice.)

3rd: Triple shot mocha (Drinks it out of a coffee mug. The Brigadier probably tried to take a sip once thinking it was regular coffee and almost died.)

4th: Ultra vice guava (This flavor tastes like pure confusion so he'd probably really vibe with it.)

5th: Ultra strawberry dreams (Drinks it one sip at a time. Picks the can up once every five minutes, takes a little sip, loudly goes "ahh," puts it back down, repeat.)

6th: Khaotic tropical orange juice (For many years he wondered if a beverage was capable of being as loud and garish as his clothing choices. He took one sip of this flavor and stopped wondering.)

7th: Ultra fantasy ruby red (I feel like Ace would drink a lot of Monster. She probably shares with him sometimes.)

8th: Ultra black (He's probably the kind of guy to take an extremely long sip and then go "wow, you can really taste the cherry.")

9th: Ultra zero (Drinks these mainly because he thinks it makes him look cool and nonchalant when Rose asks what flavor he wants and he says "just a white one.")

10th: Ultra blue Hawaiian (Sips one of these in the cowboy hat and lei while listening to The Pina Colada Song.)

11th: Ultra watermelon (Idk he just seems like a watermelon kind of guy to me.)

12th: Ultra violet (Probably shotguns an entire can and then starts aggressively shredding on the guitar.)

13th: Ultra fiesta mango (Read the words "fiesta mango" on the can, thought to herself "that sounds lovely!" and bought twenty.)

14th: Java salted caramel (Has a serious caffeine addiction.)

15th: Ultra golden pineapple (Thinks the can looks really neat. Honestly he probably spends more time admiring the can than he does actually drinking from it.)

#doctor who #first doctor #second doctor #third doctor #fourth doctor #fifth doctor #sixth doctor #seventh doctor #eighth doctor #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #thirteenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #fifteenth doctor #alistair gordon lethbridge stewart #ace mcshane #rose tyler

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karespocketboyfriends · 2 months ago

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𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

Sylus X Evie (OC)

Warnings -> Inspired by Sylus' 5* memory "Valleydream Bloom"

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

Sylus has never been more at peace than he has in this moment. A crystal blue sky and a breeze, no danger for miles. The scent of flowers and lush grass tickling his skin, no need to look over his shoulder. The birds chirping and his wife singing next to him, no need for his guard to be up.

His eyes peel open, and the first thing he sees are the fluffy white clouds floating on by. His body feels light and refreshed. Did he fall asleep?

"Finally awake?"

His head turns slightly on his grassy pillow as he takes in the sight of his wife smiling down at him. Evie has changed over the past few years, as the human body does with age. Her caramel eyes are still bright with youth, but wiser. Her smile just as earth-shattering, but even more joyous. Her body still delicate, but a little more plump from motherhood. The only thing that's seemed to freeze in time is her hair, those long, mahogany locks falling down her back in subtle waves.

Sitting in her lap, cradled in her arms, is their thirteen month old son. A carbon copy of his mother, from her hair to her eyes, the roundness of his cheeks and her freckles. Evander babbles nonsense as he flips the thick, cardboard pages of the infant book his mother holds.

Evie's smile softens, the adoration in her eyes shining so brightly, it almost blinds him. "Sleep some more, if you'd like. You looked peaceful."

Sylus hums and sits up, the heaviness in his movement revealing just how deep his little nap went. "Where's-?"

"Dada!"

Their two year old daughter, who was playing in the grass on the other side of Sylus, turns to him. Sylvia is all her father, from the sharper angles of her face, her head of snowy white hair to her ruby red eyes. Still, Evie's freckles made it onto her cheeks, too.

"Dada!" She bounces on her bum while holding a big blue flower out to him. "Dada, flower!"

Sylus lifts her from beneath her small arms and sets her down on his thigh. He gently wraps his large hand around her tiny fist, holding her still so he can examine her offering. "That is a very pretty flower, my little dove."

She points at his head, and Sylus bends his neck until she's able to stuff it into the flower crown on top of his head.

Sylvia giggles and smacks her hands together. It's not the most coordinated clapping, but precious all the same. "Pretty, Dada! Pretty!"

Evander, influenced by his sister's excitement, squeals a laugh and flaps his arms.

Evie has a laugh of her own, one that dissolves into a few tears and a soft sob.

Sylus' eyes furrow as he angles his body towards her. "What is it?"

Looking up at him, Evie smiles and shakes her head. "I'm just so happy."

Relieved, Sylus flashes his own smile and leans over to kiss the top of her head. "As am I."

Sylus remains strong as his wife leans into him, their little hatchlings safe between them. There was a time when Sylus' head and heart were nothing but roars, when his breath was made of fire that was destined to destroy.

But here, in this flower field, his family sheltered by the stone skeleton of what appears to be a dragon, the one within him purrs.

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #lnds #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #x oc

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theambitiouswoman · 9 months ago

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Seasonal color analysis:

Choosing colors that match your seasonal skin tone can enhance your natural beauty & make your complexion glow.

Spring 🌸

Spring skin tones usually have warm undertones with a light, golden, or peachy complexion.

• Best Colors: Light, warm, and fresh colors. Think pastels & soft shades.

• Peach, coral, warm pinks

• Mint green, light blues & turquoise

• Warm yellows & golden hues

• Avoid: Harsh or dark colors like black, dark navy, or deep burgundy.

Summer Skin Tone ☀️

Summer skin tones have cool undertones, often with a light complexion that has pink or blueish undertones.

• Best Colors: Cool, soft &muted colors that harmonize with cool undertones.

• Soft pinks, rose & lavender

• Sky blue, periwinkle & soft pastels

• Light grays, cool beige & soft whites

• Avoid: Warm or overly bright shades like orange, harsh black, and strong earth tones.

Autumn Skin Tone 🍁

Autumn skin tones tend to have warm undertones with golden, olive, or dark beige complexions.

• Best Colors: Warm, rich, earthy tones that enhance your skin’s natural warmth.

• Olive green, mustard, burnt orange

• Warm browns, caramel & copper tones

• Deep reds, terracotta & moss greens

• Avoid: Cool, icy shades like blue or pastels, which can clash with your warmth.

Winter Skin Tone ❄️

Winter skin tones have cool undertones with deep, olive, or fair complexions & can handle bold, high-contrast colors.

• Best Colors: Bold, cool colors with high contrast to emphasize your complexion.

• Bright white, black, and navy

• Cool jewel tones like emerald, royal blue, ruby red

• Icy shades like silver, icy blue & cool pinks

• Avoid: Warm, earthy tones like beige, orange, or muted browns, which can dull your natural brightness.

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literaryvein-reblogs · 11 months ago

Note

what are some ways to describe people other than eye and hair color

I am assuming you are looking for physical descriptors. Here are some examples. I may just make a different post on psychological descriptors.

Arms: Long, Muscular, Pudgy, Short, Skinny, Thin

Back: Bent, Hunched, Ramrod Straight, Rounded

Build: Anorexic, Athletic, Beefy, Brawny, Burly, Chubby, Coltish, Compact, Fat, Gangly, Gaunt, Gawky, Haggard, Heavy-set, Herculean, Husky, Lanky, Lithe, Muscular, Obese, Overweight, Petite, Rangy, Reed-like, Scrawny, Skinny, Slender, Slight, Solid, Spindly, Statuesque, Stocky, Strapping, Sylphlike, Taut, Thickset, Thin, Trim, Underweight, Voluptuous, Well-built, Willowy, Withered

Cheeks: Blushing, Bold, Curved, Dimpled, Bold, Curved, Dimpled, Disturbed, Glorious, Glowing, Hairless, High (cheekbones), Hollow, Honey, Livid, Pale, Pallid, Pink, Plump, Puffy, Radiant, Reddened, Rosy, Rounded, Ruddy, Shining, Smooth, Soft, Sun-burnt, Sun-bronzed, Sunken, Sun-tanned, Tanned, Tearful, White

Chin: Angular, Bony, Bumpy, Chiseled, Defined, Doughy, Firm, Protruding, Round, Smooth, Soft, Square, Strong

Ears: Jug-like, Large, Protruding, Tiny

Eyebrows: Arching, Bushy, Emphasized, Near, Spaced, Thick, Thin

Eyelashes: Artificial, Beaded, Beautiful, Blinking, Dark, Dark-fringed, Dense, Dusky, Heavily-fringed, Long, Mascaraed, Sandy, Sooty, Sopping, Tear-drenched, Thick, Uplifted

Eyes: Almond-shaped, Bright, Bulging, Expressive, Frightened, Gentle, Languishing, Little, Luminous, Made-up, Round, Shining, Shortsighted, Smart, Stunned, Thin, Wide, Woeful

Face: Baby, Blood-stained, Bold, Chiseled, Contorted, Dead, Expressionless, Fair, Familiar, Fierce, Flat, Frightened, Furrowed, Honest, Indifferent, Little, Pale, Poker, Pretty, Radiant, Rough, Ruddy, Sallow, Square, Stained, Swollen, Trim, Weather-beaten, Wry

Feet: Athlete's, Big, Flat, Pigeon-toed, Small, Sore, Stinky, Stubby, Swollen

Fingers: Gnarled, Long, Short, Stubby

Finger Nails: Bitten, Broken, Claw-like, Dirty, Hooked, Long, Painted, Sharp, Talon-like

Hair: Afro, Bald, Beehive, Braided, Bristles, Bun, Chignon, Coiffure, Combed, Corkscrew, Corn rows, Cowlicked, Crew cut, Curly, Disarrayed, Disheveled, Dreadlocks, Dry, Flattop, Flecked, French braid, French twist, Fringe, Greasy, Grizzled, Knotted, Layered, Locks, Matted, Messed up, Mohawk, Mussy, Muttonchops, Neat, Oily, Page boy, Perm, Pigtails, Plait, Pompadour, Ponytail, Ragged, Receding, Ringlets, Ruffled, Shaggy, Shorn, Shoulder-length, Skinhead, Spiky, Split-ended, Straight, Tangled, Thick, Thinning, Tidy, Topknot, Tousled, Twisted, Uncombed, Unshorn, Untidy, Wavy, Wiry, Wisps

Hand: Big, Elegant, Small

Height: Big, Knee-high, Medium, Short, Shoulder-high, Sky-high, Small, Tall, Towering, Waist-high

Legs: Amputated, Bandy, Bony, Bowed, Brawny, Bulging, Fluted, Gartered, Gouty, Graceful, Hacked, Hairy, Jagged, Knotted, Leaden, Long, Lower, Muscular, Pitiful, Rickety, Shapely, Shivering, Short, Sinewy, Slender, Slim, Spindle, Stockinged, Sturdy, Thin, Thread-like, Tinder, Tiny, Toothsome, Tree trunks

Lips: Blue, Cracked, Cupid's Bow, Downturned, Dry, Fat, Full, Grim, Large, Luscious, Parched, Parted, Red, Ruby, Small, Smiling, Thin, Wet

Mouth: Arch, Ascetic, Baby, Cavernous, Churning, Compressed, Cooing, Coral, Cracked, Cruel, Delicate, Dumpled, Distended, Dry, Fine, Firm, Frothy, Full, Funnel-shaped, Gaping, Grim, Handsome, Hungry, Insistent, Irritable, Large, Luscious, Munching, Musty, Perilous, Puckered, Querulous, Relaxed, Resolute, Sardonic, Sensuous, Serious, Slobbering, Small, Sulky, Sweet, Tender, Thin, Wide, Winsome, Wrinkled, Yawning

Neck: Bullnecked, Elegant, Long, Short, Swan-like, Thick

Palm: Broad, Oval, Rectangular, Square

Skin: Acned, Alabaster, Albino, Apricot, Black, Blemished, Blistered, Blooming, Blotchy, Blushing, Bronzed, Cadaverous, Calloused, Caramel, Clear, Craggy, Cream, Ebony, Fair, Flush, Freckled, Glowing, Greasy, Ivory, Jaundiced, Leathery, Lily-white, Lined, Milky, Mottled, Nut-brown, Olive, Pale, Pallid, Pasty, Peeling, Pimpled, Pink, Pitted, Pockmarked, Red, Rosy, Rough, Ruddy, Russet, Sallow, Scabby, Scarred, Smooth, Splotchy, Spotty, Sun-burnt, Tan, Wan, Waxen, White, Wrinkled, Yellow

Stomach: Bulging, Distended, Empty, Firm, Flabby, Flat, Heroic, Hollow, Lean, Paunchy, Protruding, Unbounded

Teeth: Artificial, Black, Blunted, Buck, Canine, Chattering, Clenched, Clinched, Compressed, Crooked, Dagger-like, Dazzling, Decayed, Deciduous, Extracted, False teeth, Feeble, Ferocious, Filed, Flashing, Fluoridated, Foam-laced, Fractured, Gap-toothed, Gleaming, Glistening, Glittering, Gnashing, Goofy, Grinding, Hooked, Horrid, Ivory, Jagged, Lacquered, Large, Milky, Mottled, Neglected, Pearly, Perfect, Pretty, Protruding, Razor-like, Sharp, Shining, Short, Small, Snowy, Sore, Spaced, Straight, Sweet tooth, Tender, Tiny, Toothless, Toothy, Ugly, Unrelenting, White, Wisdom, Wolfish, Yellow

Hope this helps! If it does, do tag me or send me a link to your writing. I'd love to read your work.

More: On Character Development

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raccoonfallsharder · 1 year ago

Note

Rocket’s eyes are so damn pretty. 🥺

I just needed to get that off my chest to someone 😭

cupcake when i say i understand

literally in every iteration they’re so gorgeous

rubies. almandines. carnelians. garnets. red whiskey. rooibos tea. bourbon. pomegranate seeds. cherries. fire opals. live coals. embers. sunsets. hot caramel. chocolate topazes. blood oranges. i love them.

#rfh asks #guardian-angel12 #those pretty eyes #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy

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dropout-if · 2 years ago

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Dropout Customization

Due to some questions about MC customization, I have decided to compile all the physical and personality aspects that are selectable about the Dropout.

A reminder that this is all subject to change and that new things may be added (or deleted). Feedback and ideas to further develop MC are encouraged.

Main Ideas

Name Surname Nickname

Sex, Gender, Pronouns (it's possible to customise them), Breast/Pecs, Penis/Vagina (If MC is transgender, their transition takes place while they're away) Title (Ms. / Mr. / Mx.)

Virginity or lack thereof.

If MC is trans (when they realized about it [high school, middle school, college] and if they told their family // the ROs already know, as MC told Uma and J, and word spread).

Birthday which establishes the Dropout's age as either 21 or 22 depending on the season (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter)

Major (Engineering, Biology, Chemistry, Computer science, Law, Economics, Education (in relation to science/maths/etc), Mathematics, Physics, Psychology). The Dropout's Major affects flavor text. These options are the ones approved by the Dropout's parents, though it's possible for MC to express interest in other degrees/topics (music, art, English, anthropology, archeology, classical studies, history).

Reason behind dropping out (MC got kicked out (they were caught cheating) MC didn't get a high enough GPA and dropped out / MC never even wanted to go to college and ultimately decided they wanted out / MC didn't fit in (they were discriminated, lonely, etc) though they really liked college / MC originally liked their degree and college but gradually lost interest in the entire thing / MC never liked their degree and decided to drop out / Something specifically related to mental health (mainly anxiety) / Impostor's syndrome.) This affects flavor text.

2 Coping Mechanisms (Alcohol, Tobacco, Drugs, Sleeping around, Avoidance, Overspending, Humor, *Hobby (overworking self) [Anger, Fake/forced happiness, Sadness, Indifference].) Each coping mechanism opens a variable and a storyline. You can choose two, though choosing one related to emotional responses [between brackets] automatically blocks out the others.

2 Hobbies (Singing, playing an instrument, songwriting, creative writing, drawing, sketching, sculpting, acting, photography, soccer, football, swimming, basketball, gymnastics, boxing, judo, karate, taekwondo, kickboxing, going to the gym, cooking/baking, dancing [ballet, contemporary dance, modern], yoga.) This affects flavor text and scenes.

Job (Bartender [Wanda, Statler is also around often], Cashier [Statler], Columnist [J (+Kai if poly)], Caregiver [Kai], Waiter/Waitress [Uma (+Travis if poly)], Tutor [Travis]) Each job gives you more time with a certain RO, as well as unlocking a storyline.

Personality Stats

Playful/Serious Honest/Dishonest Friendly/Rude Introverted/Extroverted Laid-back/Uptight Cynical/Idealistic Flirty/Reserved Family oriented/Individualistic

Others: Insomnia, Migraines

Physical Appearance

*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.

Height (very tall, talk, average, short, very short)

Skin tone (ebony, dark brown, light brown, russet, golden, olive, honey, tawny, tanned, fair, rosy, ivory.) Choosing any skin tone gives you the possibility of choosing to be a poc (idea I stole from Mila, @beyondthegame)

*Build (scrawny, skinny, lithe, lean, muscular, chubby, curvy, hourglass).

*Hair color (max 3 tones, 1 base and other 2) (possible to return home with a mess of dye for Maude to fix. NATURAL (Ashen blonde, Sunflower blonde, Strawberry blonde, Caramel, Honey brown, Chocolate brown, Copper, Auburn, Ruby red, Midnight brown, Jet black, Ebony black) NON-NATURAL (Pink, Violet, Lilac, Blue jade, Vermilion red, Snowy white, Silver, Emerald green, Canary yellow, Bleached).

Hair texture (kinky, very coiled, coiled, curly, wavy, slightly wavy, straight)

*Hair length (ear-length, chin-length, shoulder-length, below shoulder-length, chest-length, waist-length)

*Hair style (SHORT/MEDIUM: natural, side-parted, mullet, layered, bob, ponytail, twin ponytails, buzz fade, slick back, messy, wolf cut, bun. LONG: natural, high/low ponytail, messy, shaggy, California waves, a half updo, side-swept, bun, braid, twin braids, twin ponytails).

*Eye color (albino red, dark blue, light blue, dark green, light green, hazel, amber, chestnut brown, chocolate brown, black, grey).

Others

*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.

*Glasses (yes, no, contacts)

*Facial hair (No/shaved. Stubble, full beard, goatee, ducktail,van dyke, garibaldi, mustache, soul patch, light beard).

Scars, can choose as many as possible (Back, chest, abdomen, upper and lower arm, thigh, knees, calf, mouth area, neck, cheek, hands, eye area, shoulder)

*Tattoos (One big in X body area, patch-like bodysuit, bodysuit, one/two sleeves, just legs, a few tattoos all over, a small in X place).

*Piercings (Ears [helix, lobe, industrial], navel, tongue, nose ring and septum, eyebrow, lips, smiley, nipples, genital)

Dimples

Braces

Freckles (face, body, both)

Beauty mark, multiple (under eye, over lip, neck, body)

*Outfit/Style (streetwear, alternative, cute, preppy, casual, formal, business casual, dark academia, messy, boho/eclectic, comfortable)

*Bedroom, at family home and at new apartment (messy, colorful, emo, basic, boho, modern, industrial, vintage, minimalist, cute)

*Diet (vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, keto, meat-eater, lactose intolerant)

Family pet (small/large dog, cat, fish tank, hamster/rabbit/guinea pig, cockatiel/parrot/canaries)

Characters

Closeness to all family members (tight-knit, close, so-so, cold, barely any relationship)

Same with the friend group

Crush on Statler during high school (yes/no)

'Popularity' during high school and college (popular, social butterfly [got along with many people but wasn't part of the popular groups], normal, loner, outcast [somewhat antagonistic in a way/rebel].)

#dropout if #dropout #cog wip #cog #choice script #hosted games #interactive fiction wip #interactive fiction #mc #gameplay

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jadeshifting · 7 months ago

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🫀 SHIFTMAS

day 21. WHAT CHRISTMAS TREATS ARE YOU BAKING IN YOUR DR? are you rolling out gingerbread dough and decorating them with icing? baking buttery mince pies or indulgent yule logs? who’s helping, and who’s sneaking bites when you’re not looking?

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

baking occupies most of a weekend around the holidays, where my connections and Lorenzo’s goodwill with the Hufflepuffs gets us more access to the kitchens than usual. the smell of sugar and melting chocolate fills the air, and while Lorenzo, Millicent and Blaise are helping to bake, i’m pretty sure those like Pansy, Mattheo, and definitely Theo only stick around to steal what they can

— PEPPERMINT & CHOCOLATE CAULDRON CAKES . rich chocolate cakes shaped like bubbling cauldrons, filled with molten peppermint ganache

— FROSTED SNOWFLAKE SUGAR WANDS . thin sugar cookies enchanted to sparkle like real snowflakes, iced in shimmering silver and frosty blue

— GINGERBREAD ANIMALS . forget houses—my gingerbread game is all about little enchanted familiars: cats, owls, snakes, and toads that wiggle their sugar-dusted tails. (Thyra’s likeness, of course, gets pride of place)

— YULETIDE BERRY TARTELETS . bite-sized tarts filled with spiced berry compote and topped with enchanted sugared holly leaves

— SPICED HOT COCOA BOMBS . i handcraft emerald and silver cocoa bombs, infused with a hint of cinnamon and cardamom. pop one into hot milk, and bam—a swirl of festive flavor with glittering marshmallow snakes

— STAINED GLASS COOKIES . butter cookies with “windows” of melted sugar in jewel-toned reds and greens, charmed to glimmer faintly under candlelight. they’re almost too pretty to eat—almost

— VELVET YULE LOG ROLL . a decadent chocolate sponge rolled with peppermint cream filling, dusted with enchanted powdered sugar that sparkles like fresh snow

— FIREWHISKY-SPIKED FRUIT MINCE PIES . mini pies filled with dried fruits and a dash of Firewhisky, perfect for warming up after a snowball fight. a sprinkle of powdered sugar adds just enough sweetness to balance it out

— LEMON LAVENDER MOON BISCUITS . dainty crescent-shaped biscuits infused with bright lemon and floral lavender, iced in pale pastel hues

— DARK CHOCOLATE GANACHE TART . a sleek, no-nonsense tart with rich, silky ganache and a hint of sea salt. i decorate it with gold-leaf accents and edible star charms for that added sparkle

— BUTTERBEER BLONDIES . chewy blondies infused with butterscotch and Butterbeer syrup, topped with a drizzle of caramel and enchanted snowflake sprinkles

— ELDERFLOWER MERINGUES . feather-light meringues enchanted to shimmer faintly, flavored with elderflower and a hint of lemon

— VANILLA CARDAMOM CRESCENT SCONES . soft, buttery scones with just a whisper of warm spice, shaped into crescents and dusted with snowy sugar

— TRUFFLE ORBS . glittery chocolate truffles in flavors like spiced orange, dark raspberry, and salted caramel, each wrapped in edible silver foil

— CRANBERRY PISTACHIO BISCOTTI . crunchy biscotti studded with ruby-red cranberries and emerald pistachios, perfect for dipping into enchanted hot cocoa

— CARAMELIZED PEAR & ALMOND GALETTE . rustic but elegant, this flaky pastry is topped with spiced caramelized pears and slivered almonds, then baked to golden perfection. a little earthy, a lot luxurious

— EMERALD FIZZ MACARONS . pale green macarons filled with champagne-infused buttercream, topped with edible glitter

— MIDNIGHT CHOCOLATE-DIPPED SHORTBREAD . rich shortbread cookies half-dipped in dark chocolate and sprinkled with gold dust

— FROSTED PUMPKIN MOONCAKES . mini mooncakes filled with spiced pumpkin custard, their intricate patterns iced in snowy white

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

#shifting motivation #hogwarts dr #shifting to hogwarts #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #hogwarts scripting #shifting blog #shifters #shifting script #emma’s shiftmas #shifting to harry potter #shifting community #shifting realities #shifting #shifting diary #shifting consciousness #harry potter dr

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therealslimshakespeare · 1 month ago

Note

her sitting on the countertop and hooking her toes into his belt to pull him away from the stove and to pay attention to her

OH MY FUCKING GOD is benny immediately indulgent or does he tell her to be patient while he finishes cooking for HER girl he is cooking for you do you want burnt pasta

Sneak peak? Sneak peak….for some unearthly reason it’s in Benny’s POV which I never anticipated, we shall see if it remains so once published.

Benny n’ Lu

Now’s not a good time but Benny’s found that outrunning it isn’t doing a great deal of good. “Ma thinks another baby’s a good idea.”

Lu’s face creases in mild confusion. “She wants you to start before finding a wife?”

Benny finds himself choking on his spit instead of laughing, he oughta be laughing but she looks so earnest. “Nah, nah.”

“Didn’t sound like her.” Lu mutters.

“She’s the one having a baby?” Lu gasps, cheeks pink and for once since she pulled up in his drive months ago, there’s the little girl he remembers.

“Yeah.”

“Oh Benny.”

“Yeah.”

“Does your father know?”

“Better, it’s his.”

“It’s his?”

“Course it’s his, Lu!”

“Benny, my, my my.”

“Who’s in the guest room?” she asks innocently.

“Worked out with the dates ya sent.” he shrugs and it’s time for the onions.

“It really throws ya, huh?” she says after awhile.

His eyes stay glued to his task. “What?”

“This baby.”

“M’not.” he frowns at her hand on his shoulder and his hips so near to the countertop and- and to hers.

#sneak peaks #Benny x Lu #those who can

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