#sugar canes are a big thing here... maybe i need to draw more

[cyellolemon]

Childhood

ocs: Sylvester (he/xe) and Ombeline (he/him)

[tuagonia]

sunflower - mason x f!detective

pairing: mason x f!detective (mia garcia)

Summary: mason thinks about mia at the town’s florist.

rating: T

warning: i think there's like...one swear word.

word count: ~1.7k

note: lol ok since i flopped at getting mason x mia done for the hotwayhaven event.... i have been waiting to write this for a while and the amazing event organisers at @wayhavensummer finally gave me the excuse I was waiting for to fully indulge in this. thanks for hosting and putting in all the great work!! This is for Aug. 18 - Flowers.

--

They remind him of her.

Large and dangling free from her ears; brightly painted papier-mâché “monstrosities”.

That’s the word he’d used to describe them, making no effort to mask his distaste.

Instead, Mia smiled widely in response, reaching up to touch one at its faux-stalks. It stopped that distracting swing, back and forth with every slight movement of her head. Chuckling, and pride lifting her cheery tone, she told Mason she made them herself.

Lemony-yellow, mossy-green, the burnt-chestnut centre.

All crammed together outside of the tiny flower shop. Dozens upon dozens of them staring back at him; yellower under the blaze of the mid-August sun.

A makeshift sign stuffed among the mass of summer-ripe bouquets reads: “TOP QUALITY. Giant Sunnys £14 per bunch”.

Mason is just looking.

He tells himself there’s no harm in just looking.

And anyway, they’re hard to miss under the hot sun. It’s not his fault they’re in the way of his usual patrol route. Quite literally.

Bundles and bundles of large sunflowers, taking up the pavement. Usually, grey and cracked, now overrun with the sight of them. The florist’s quaint store looks like a child’s plaything next to the dramatic assortment.

He has to blink, thinking the sunshine and its heat has started playing tricks on him. It’s almost as if they multiply; little suns with their earthly centres, drawing him closer.

From the moment he rounded the corner to the main square, he never stood a chance against the brilliance of them.

Mason should have kept moving. He doesn’t have time for this— to stop mid-patrol, to idle in front of flowers.

But they remind him of her.

Not just of the — and his lip curls at the memory — weird handmade jewellery.

(A set for every occasion.

Cakes and candles for colleagues’ birthdays, candy canes for Christmas, glittery hearts the size of her fists for Valentine’s Day. Tiny pieces of reflective plastic shedding onto her delicate neck).

They remind him of the sunshiney smiles. The ones she so easily tosses his way, like they’re never any work, like they could never go to waste. Always patient, always bright, always...happy.

And as he glares down at them, he realises they don’t offend him. The observation renders him sceptical, partly convincing himself he’s stopped to figure out why he hasn’t felt repulsed at the overwhelming powdery aroma.

It’s not floral. No. Instead, it reminds him of...reminds him of… Mason racks his brain and frowns accusingly at the vivid flowers opened up at him.

Mason reaches for one, fingers wrapping around its surprisingly sturdy stalk.

He’s still just looking. He just— he just needs to get a closer whiff to figure this out.

Honey. That’s what it is.

Mason’s frown deepens at the realisation. His grip on the flower shifts, the skin of his palm uncomfortable against the fuzzy stem.

Bright and honey-sweet.

(There’s that memory of her kiss, soft and saccharine as powdered-sugar; should make his teeth hurt.)

The crown of gold petals distracts him, fills him with a warm something that he’s more desperate than annoyed to figure out. He can’t place it, can’t place it, can’t place it— wants to know it.

Maybe it’s the frustration of chasing after the unnamable thing that makes him forget the purpose of stopping, the reason why he plucked the flower to begin with.

...so distracted he doesn't hear when the round-cheeked vendor pops their head outside of the shop, all smiles that he feels nothing for (not her like smiles, though. Nothing like her smiles).

They mention the weather and ask if they can be of any help, but Mason’s attention slides back to the sunflower in his fist. But he shakes his head, unconvincingly but he’ll never know.

It’s the heat, he thinks. The arse-end of nowhere town at the tail-end of an unforgiving heatwave.

But just as he’s about to slot the stalk back into its bucket, the vendor stops him— shaking their head emphatically, their grin growing by the second. They sweep of their hands in a take it, take it, please motion, and send Mason off. They shoot him wink from overly-kind eyes.

Like they might be in on some big secret, and Mason will be the last in this entire godforsaken town to know.

There’s no harm in taking the flower, Mason insists, staring down into its dark-brown centre.

He’ll hold onto it until he can find the next rubbish bin, and in the mean time he’ll try not to think about how it reminds him of the dusting of dark freckles across her nose.

(He gets it now. He gets it when he’s with Mia.

He understands — finally — why everyone before her kissed his freckles like they wanted to taste the stars.

Her galaxies, his constellations. Every time they meet, Mason expects a seismic shift to take them asunder.)

His usual strides have shortened, his pace slower than normal, his senses overwhelmed by the true yellow of its petals.

For a moment, Mason forgets all about the patrol and just...walks.

It’s a quiet and lazy summer day. The sun (high and hot) urges residents to stay in the shade, seeks refuge in cool indoors. The streets are empty. Sleepy. So, he takes his time, the crease on his brow deepening with every side street he takes.

It’s hot inside his boots. That’s the only reason he’s leaning against her tin can of a car, outside of the station, holding this ostentatiously large flower.

A quick detour for some shade. That’s all it is. And when there’s a whisper of a breeze, rustling the leaves of the tree above him and the little crown of petals in his hand, it’s all the more cooler.

Mason can hear her colleagues moving in and out of the station, but pays them no mind as time moves on, still staring down at the flower in his grip. It’s far too large to twirl it with sturdy fingers, forcing him to keep studying it and wondering what exactly about it brings Mia to mind.

Lively, but not intense.

(Her laugh, he guesses. Loud and clear, broken up by giggles. The sound of it never jarring.)

A drop of sunlight, buried underground. Persists and blossoms through cracked earth.

(Her kindness, he ascertains. Not to be mistaken for weakness. As easy as she can dole-out radiant smiles, her sharp tongue can just as quickly follow.)

...like he’s been holding a piece of her this entire time.

The taut pull at his cheeks is foreign, and he lets the corners of his mouth drop.

Pointless because Mason hears a familiar drumming, a quick skip he’s grown used to over the last years.

He looks up just in time to watch Mia push through the station’s glass doors. At the top of the steps, she stops to survey the car park, and he feels a flutter in his chest when he realises those brown eyes are searching for him. He confirms it when her gaze lands on him and...that smile (the beating inside his chest is ten-fold) breaks out across her face.

She shields her face with a hand, squinting against the harsh glare of sun bouncing off windshields. With easy, unhurried steps she walks towards him and he drinks in the sight of her.

That scratchy yellow cardigan that’s become synonymous with Detective Garcia is nowhere to be seen. Probably thrown over the back of her office chair and forgotten, along with whatever work she’s been putting off all afternoon.

Dark curls scooped up and away from her neck, gives Mason a great view to the line of her throat and down her naked shoulders. A sage strappy shirt stretches down her small frame, trying its best to keep her cool in the heat...reminds him of the stalk in his hand.

He tenses.

Mia’s eyes flicker to the sunflower he’s holding and her smile (fuck, that smile will be the end of him) grows and grows.

All teeth (white, and...harmless with the dull edges) and she gives an airy chuckle.

“That for me?” she asks with one eyebrow lifting into a curly fringe.

Pushing off the car, Mason musters up his best grimace and fights back the fear fighting its way up his spine. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know why fear is the first thing that possesses him when she stands this close and gestures to the flower with a tilt of her head.

Before he can respond, before he can let his tongue and fear get the better of him— Mia makes for the sunflower in his grip.

Fear tells him this should be a mistake. This memory must be a mistake; one that he’s sure will be the only one to matter in a dizzying spiral of time: Mia smiling down at this sunflower.

The leaves rustle again, and sunlight filters through, dappling the deep brown of her hair.

She makes it easy, never has to wrestle with the feeling for too long before she distracts him. If it’s not a quip, it’ll be an expression that should not be equal parts funny or cute. Spears Mason somewhere deep, somewhere he doesn’t think he’s touched before— doesn’t know if it could ever be before her.

Mia speaks to the flower, a lone fingertip running over its petals. “It’s very pretty.”

Mason watches her stroke the large leaf at the stalk, leaning in nose-first to catch its scent at the centre, eyes fluttering shut. Dark lashes meet her cheeks, and he follows the line of her freckles (darker in the summertime).

He wants to take his time here too, with the same pace as he did those side streets (seeing parts of Wayhaven he would have never traversed without coaxing).

“Yeah…” his voice is rough and unused, studying as she looks up at the way the branches move above them. Sunlight casting down on her, and that easy smile fixed on her lips. “Very pretty.”

[sugar-petals]

BTS Tarot Reading ➝ What Kind Of Porn Do They Watch? (18+)

↳ NOTE - due to several requests, a steamy and detailed one. ☕️ we’re asking the cards about the erotica they fancy in a wider sense. 

warning ⚠️ 18+ // bdsm mentions, worship, kinks left and right. we’re going graphic in all types o’ ways, lads.

♡ DISCLAIMER // tarot is speculative, there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are fictive and for entertainment purposes only.

SPREAD #1:

yoongi

⌈ THE WORLD ⇁ Jesus... Someone’s obsessed with girls in the nude. That card has a stark naked woman wrapped in very little satin on it so you know what our funky little guy is up to. Luscious aesthetic fotos might be just around his corner. Big duh, he’s a photography major. These folks are all about body appreciation. He’s also on a personal vendetta against lingerie 😂 Yoongi won’t get hard looking at even the most HD panty and bra ads. Only the skin in its full splendor will do, no editing. He loves pictures of nipples peaking through shirt fabric, it’s all over his phone. Yoongi likes his gals without underwear 24/7 just like he dislikes underwear himself. If we’re talking porn, the woman on the card is holding two very long rods so may I connect the dots: Threesomes, handjobs, blowbangs, spitroasting. Friction, friction, and more friction. To Yoongi’s brain, handjobs are a great um new version of holding hands. Sex standing up also, keeping it vertical. Yoongi doesn’t care about girth, inches count. Nice and elongated with a perfect plunge, something to hold onto. Yep, he’s pretty deliberate when searching that up. Yes, he loves the look of it. However, and you’ll be surprised: Even if he likes poly porn, it’s still nothing too extreme. This card is more about pleasure than pain. If a guy likes rough and degrading sex, you get swords and wands in his spread. THE WORLD is more about perfected skills and success. So, he likes the more accomplished porn stars. With a preference for curly blondes and redheads, that’s sort of the hair color on the card. Natural B or C cup. Medium height, not too curvy. Oversized booty not needed. In terms of nationality: We have three representative animals on the card. Eagle, lion and bull, plus a light blonde man’s head. So, anything that America/Germany/Albania/Mexico/Namibia (and so on, lot of countries with eagles as their national bird my dude), England, Spain and Scandinavia have to offer. Honey sugar is going international, baby.

hoseok

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS ⇁ Did I just mention that guys who like rough sex in porn get wand cards in their readings in Yoongi’s segment? Well, there we have our candidate, with a very obvious card since it’s a court figure. Now, the thing is, this is not the guy being rough. The QUEEN OF WANDS is as notoriously femdom as can be. The very fiery and raw and fun version. So, with a degree of lightheartedness, but still being very fit — even buff — and hands-on with the sub. If you get the QUEEN OF SWORDS, that’s the more cool and calculated domme who signs you up for torture and humiliation, and she really looks like a domme. She’s all over the internet because she has the grit. Now wands combined with a tarot queen... it’s more about the stamina and she is approachable. Hobi does not like watching cruel girls, he likes challenging ones. Upbeat porn stars who can take a lot but most importantly dole it out assertively like pros are Hobi’s schtick. He’s unapologetic about that. With him it’s like, please not the local newcomers that turned legal a month ago. The queen cards are all about mature women. Mommy kink, hint hint. The kind of mommy who’s gonna whip out the spreader bar or cane (= wands again) and give a playful type of punishment. See how desert-like that imagery is, Hobi wants to sweat big time when he gets off to this. Now since wands also make for a damn good pole to dance on, go figure. This whole card has me wondering if, well alright, he is a Cardi B hard stan 😅 If Hobi blasts Money to get in the mood, I’d not be surprised. Anyway. Back to pole stuff: If you go through his youtube search history, you will find astounding things. I think he watches the more professional and athletic performers in competition though. High production value is key. Finally, an interesting card detail: There’s a sunflower on it. This is definitely his kind of tarot imagery.

jimin

⌈ KING OF COINS  ⇁ This card always looks like a scene from a medieval movie so you might have an erotic film enthusiast here. The more chaste type of genre, pentacles are very grounded and not hypersexualized. The intimacy is slow and more about security and pleasure. It’s graphic and detailed, but gives you a sense of relaxation. With a bit of romance in the plot, that might absolutely be Jimin’s thing. Castles and wine and nobility. Interesting type of erotica. Historical and classy. As expected of a prince, mind you. He might enjoy books of that genre also. And we know Jimin is an avid reader, right up there with Namjoon. Now, even with more risque and contemporary stuff that he googles up, we have similar dynamics going down on screen. With Hobi we had femdom because it’s a queen card, now with Jimin we get the classic male dom type of porn because that’s how the King usually rolls, unless it’s the KING OF CUPS who’s touchy-feely and subby. Meanwhile, the KING OF COINS is your local sugar daddy. Leaning towards being a soft dom, he’s not aggressive. And Jimin surely has a little crush on that concept. Ye know, if all the other members have female cards and Jimin gets the sugar daddy, we might be dealing with mxm action. Because if this card was a porn star, he’d be a really, really rich producer and a bear who’s done this since the frickin’ 90s. He’s treating his subs very gently and lets them sit on their lap, the imagery is sort of like that because the King is balancing a pentacle on his left thigh. Sex and comfort all in one are life for Jimin. A sexy detail I only noticed at a second glance, the King also has a shortened golden staff with him, which has a rounded tip. If that’s not a butt plug… whenever I see props like that in tarot, I interpret it as a sex toy. So, good vibes in here. And a bunch of aphrodisiacs, the KING OF COINS is a foodie. Which you know, might just be a food porn type of reference. Jimin’s taste in sexy things is quite something else.

jungkook

⌈ THE EMPRESS ⇁ If there’s one thing I like, it’s the Tarot giving me the important archetypes during readings of that kind. The Queens, the Kings, the Major arcana (see Yoongi’s and Jin’s segment). You can really draw a lot of hints out of it. Now with the EMPRESS you have a similar case to Hobi’s, just a lot more softcore. Jungkook has a refined and pretty vast taste in erotica, if not the most refined in Bangtan next to Jimin who likes that kind of dignified touch to it as well as we saw. Jungkook knows his stuff when it comes to searching things up, he is a first class netizen in that regard. In terms of genre: The EMPRESS is your highkey feminist and wholesomeness legend, so — you won’t find any super creepy things in some hidden file on his PC, and things by female producers instead. No slut-shaming or name-calling here, everyone gets their pleasure in their own right. Thanks to online sex ed, Jungkook has a map to the clit and he’s not afraid to use it. He’s the type to watch solo videos ad nauseam. He’s fascinated. Masturbation until it gets all messy with the juices flowing, and you bet he wants to see the girls buzzing themselves off lying on their back. Maybe even outdoors in a field. Cum play is a must, cunnilingus is a must, he loves unprotected sex and creampies, he loves breast massages. And yes. Anything that involves sex with pregnant and chubby women. Similar to Taehyung, it’s all about the focus on the girl, he doesn’t bother much with the guy performers. And given Yoongi’s reading on top of that, we have three members in BTS who are all about worshipping the female body right here, breasts over ass, and he likes blondes, too. The EMPRESS card is like… the entire porn industry who does the MILF and BBW genre is financed by Jeon Jungkook’s website subscriptions. Cue GOT7, with Jungkook it’s girls, girls, girls. The thirst is going strong, and he’s unashamed times ten, sex is sex. 

➝ we also have members who don’t really bother with erotica or have a complicated relationship with it.

SPREAD #2

taehyung

⌈  ACE OF WANDS reversed ⇁ He’s not about beating off until the world ends. Taehyung gets bored by porn or heated literature and doesn’t feel very motivated to search it up. He would rather come up with his own ideas to write but doesn’t have the energy. Sex drive: On hold, even if he tries to look something up it doesn’t feel very fulfilling to him. Most of it fails to turn him on, it’s not his kind of taste. He gets frustrated when he masturbates and would rather rest, dream, and doze. The only thing I can see him watch somewhat frequently — hold your horses — is lesbian porn. I’ll explain. The ACE OF WANDS is pretty much your most glaring handjob symbolism card. A hand gripping a stick. Yoongi’s THE WORLD card has very similar imagery, I mean even two wands and a girl, bisexual explosion much. He would be a big fan of the upright ACE OF WANDS card lmao! But the reversal is like, um no silly guys jerking off in here, pls. Keep your cum to yourself. That means: Zero dicks in Taehyung’s zone, girl-on-girl stuff is his very last resort for quality that he is desperate for but cannot find. And not the stuff where the producers just replace the guys with heavy arsenal sex toys, double-ended dildos, fucking machines, endless strap-on action without any clit stimulation on either side and whatnot. Taehyung is like ugh, cherie, why, give me the juicy stuff, give me the basics. What he wants is just pure scissoring, fingering, oral, little gentle bites, a lot of caresses and kisses. And slow, slow sex. Probably the amateur kind. He hates how brutal and exaggerated most things online are. Tae is looking for softness, a lot of lesbian action is what delivers in that regard so he takes all he gets. And it goes further than that, Taehyung knows the finest yuri recommendations, I’m telling you.

seokjin

⌈  THE STAR reverse ⇁ The opposite of Yoongi: not keeping it very naked in here. The upright card shows a nude woman pouring water from two cups. Hence a strong connection to the card of sexuality, TWO OF CUPS. Everything is very gentle and positive in that scenery. But then, the reversed card rather shows us that Jin doesn’t feel too thrilled watching other people film or write or photograph sex. Like in Tae’s case, he becomes bored, it’s all the same to him. Nothing’s ever new to him in porn. He feels negative and guilty rather than refreshed or entertained. He also doesn’t like a lot of kinks that very literally connect to, well, the pouring water. Squirting, cum play, watersports, sex in the pool or showers, lube overuse, creampies, bukkake, fake cum — Jin is rolling his eyes at that, he thinks it’s a circus. He’s surely given it a try, but ended up feeling worse and even more pent-up or dissatisfied. At best, you will find him on unknown websites looking for the most amateur videos there are. Because: THE STAR quite unequivocally hints at porn stars. If you reverse the card, it becomes someone not very well-known. He roots for the underdog. Accordingly, Jin’s reaction to mainstream videos goes this way: ‚Pipe down, you non-artists!’ 😆 Cause maybe, he does do it better aye, without the awkward angles anyway. He doesn’t want the body cult, like, put that airbrush and silicone out of my face bro. Not because he’s against surgery, but the idea behind sexual extremes and the shady high standards. It’s too polished for him to get turned on. And robotic/staged. Likely because he’s had an IRL sexual experience (gasp!) that set a different ideal to him, so the more glossy porn feels off. Home video has all he needs instead. I think it’s especially because you get so see more body hair there. The woman on the THE STAR card is all sleek, so the reversed card is the opposite, Jin wants that unshaved goodness.

namjoon

⌈ EIGHT OF CUPS ⇁ Now you’d think — and I thought, kinda — we’d get the master of erotica right here. And he’s had one hell of a reputation for that. Think of the ever-infamous Yaman TV interview where BTS were super upfront and revealing about their taste and what they watch privately. With especially Namjoon having the lion’s share. But this card says otherwise if his current state is concerned. The EIGHT OF CUPS shows a man wandering off into the night, leaving eight cups behind him. I think what that means is, he’s moved on. Namjoon’s cravings aren’t as strong as they used to be, nor does he have the time. He knows it won’t fix his loneliness or answer the questions of life. He might be on the search for different things to fulfill him, or ignore much of his hormones in favor for his career. Not that he didn’t dabble in it, he sure did, but that chapter is slowly closing and what’s next he doesn’t really know yet. He thinks about family and being a father, so the smaller and more risque pleasures become less significant. Desire, too. Ye olde soul syndrome is kicking in. The card is also centered around introspection, a quest for self, all these higher topics that aren’t the most grounded and don’t leave much space for being horny. Joon is simply to preoccupied and on the move. He sees porn as a distraction from his real self at this point, and he’s not the type to feel satiated after masturbating to something, similar to Jin and Taehyung. Instead, I think he carries that energy elsewhere, hence the wanderer going from A to B onto a mountain. In short, Namjoon naturally grew out of it by becoming more, well: Namjoon. He’s left a lot behind, he’s choosing self-development over temporary fun, and he will ponder a lot on the topic, the hows and whys and whats more often than not. So, he’s passed the baton to Yoongi and Jungkook if you will, and keeps a low profile as of now. 

tarot mlist | ko-fi

----

for anon:

[wishingupontheskyandstars]

Our Secret This Holiday ❄️ Chp. 3

Summary: As the Holidays approach, Arya and Gendry are a new couple spending a lot of time together before they reveal to everyone else that they are dating and what better day to reveal that than on Christmas...

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3 Link Here | Rated M 

Chapter 3: Frosting

"Finals are done!" Meera cheerfully said, lifting her goblet filled with red wine.

"They are finally fucking over!" Arya said with a groan. She pours more wine into her holiday mug.

"No more studying and taking tests..." Meera starts to say.

"And no more writing essays and drinking a heavy amount of coffee—I'm still twitchy," Arya says as she massages her right temple. "Ugh, bad week!"

Daenerys wraps her arm around Arya with a concerned look, "Well, now it's time for some fun!" She lifts her martini glass and looks to Margaery with raised brows.

Margaery gives a slight grin as she raises her wine glass. "Cheers!" She says.

"Cheers!" The other three follow as glasses and the mug clink.

After a few seconds of silence, drinking, Daenerys places her glass on the coffee table and rests back comfortably on the couch. "So, Margaery and I will add just a bit more decorations—"

"How much more do we need? I think if anyone comes in here, they're going to think this is Santa's Condo or something," Meera says, looking around at the lights strung delicately along the room and kitchen with wreaths, mistletoe, and stockings placed all over.

"You even put lights in my bathroom, thank you," Arya says, sitting next to Daenerys and making an annoyed face at her.

Daenerys shrugs in response. "I admit, I thought I'd surprise you with that." She smiles.

"Ha. Ha. It scared the crap out of me; I jumped so fast and almost fell in the shower." Arya says in a serious tone as she bumps her shoulder against Daenerys.

The other three laugh until Margaery, sitting on the other side of Daenerys said, "Okay, maybe we're good with decorations," She rubs Daenerys' thigh lovingly as she sees her disappointed face. "I'll bring the drinks and ice."

"I'm almost done working on the music playlist," Meera says.

"Please, no traditional songs—I'm going to have to hear all that when I'm home," Arya said, shaking her head.

"I'm going to miss Winterfell this Christmas," Daenerys says with an almost pout.

Arya looks at her best friend and says, "I'm going to miss you," She leans her shoulder and head against Daenerys.

"I'm going to miss you too but maybe not the snow—It gets so cold up there!" She smiles against Arya's hair, near her ear, and gives her a quick kiss. "I'll be sure to send both you and Meera pictures from Highgarden." She gives Arya one last hug and then leans into Margaery. "Enjoying the holidays in sunny weather is going to be different, to say the least."

"Oh, you'll enjoy it," Margaery said with a big grin. She interlocks her fingers with Daenerys.

Arya sees them together, and she sighs, happy to finally see Daenerys in a loving relationship.

"Arya? We have catering doing most of the cooking, but Gendry can still make a couple of dishes, right?" Daenerys asks, then says, "Oh, Drogon, there you are." Her cat jumps on her lap and purrs instantly with her touch.

Arya smiles, knowing Daenerys loves her cats but has more of a connection with Drogon. "Uh—Yes, Gendry will whip up a few things tomorrow and will be at the party early on Sunday to warm them up"

"Whip up, huh?" Margaery asks with a sly grin.

Meera rolled her eyes, looking at her phone, as she sat in the comfy armchair.

Daenerys just shook her head as Arya sits back against the couch. "Shut it," she says and remembers how everyone there found out about her and Gendry, and at the time, she was just so surprised at being caught. Because finals week was ahead,  she didn't mention too much about their relationship—just that it started back at Thanksgiving. She didn't want anyone to know just yet, but she would have said something after the Holidays—most definitely--probably.

"I'm so happy for you two, Arya. You are perfect for each other," Daenerys says with a genuine grin. She squeezes Arya's hand. "I know he's your first real boyfriend..."

Besides talking about everything else in life, Arya never really brought up her love life to Daenerys, other than crushes, but in a way, this was new, talking about him. "I'm happy when we are together," Arya starts. She sees Rhaegal seeking permission to jump on her lap and nods before the tuxedo cat jumps and purrs on her lap. She pets his head and coat. "He was my friend before, but now there's kissing and touching involved--it's all just so new to me."

"Sounds wonderful—you're lucky, Arya," Meera says as she takes a sip of her drink and allows Viserion to lay on her lap.

Arya gives her a hopeful smile, hoping Meera will cheer up with her family this Christmas and get over her most recent heartbreak.

"Well, I hope Gendry knows how lucky he is being with you, Arya," Margaery says with a brilliant smile.

Arya smiles in return, "Thanks," she said. Margaery nods back as Daenerys squeezes Arya's hand again.

Arya then grabs the bowl filled with popcorn from the coffee table, eats one, and says, "Okay, so are we going to watch this movie or what?"

The next evening in Gendry's kitchen was a sublime experience for Arya. She had never smelled so many different foods at once; it was wonderfully intoxicating but disappointing as she couldn't eat any of it until the next day.

"Just a sample?" Arya asks as she places more yellow frosting on a sugar cookie, making a star.

"Nope."

"Come on! I have to make sure they taste good." She gives Gendry a wicked smile.

"Your confidence in me is so reassuring," he scoffed.

"Oh, please, you know I think you're cooking is...delicious," She gives him a satisfied smile. "I just need a taste...." She walks a couple of steps to stand in front of him. She leans forward, and light as a feather, kisses him on the lips. Against his lips, she whispers, "Please."

Gendry, at a loss of words, especially when it comes to Arya Stark, gives in as he grins and says, "I'll get the forks."

Minutes later, Arya put her fork down and said, "Mmm...that stuffed Portobello mushroom is excellent—but that garlic bread with pizza sauce is—" She takes a sip of water and eats another fried mash potato ball. "But these are just too much, they're just so good..." She takes her fork and finishes her portion of the four-cheese ravioli. "This ravioli though—I might be in love," She gives a half-smile to Gendry.

He chuckles. "So, all is good, is it?" He puts his fork down after finishing his half of the stuffed Portobello mushroom.

Arya nods and gives him two thumbs up. "Definitely."

"And how are the next batch of cookies coming along?"

Arya's eyes enlarge as she remembers. "Oh, fuck," she muttered. She quickly walks over to the oven, puts on her oven mitts, takes out the baking sheet pan, and luckily sees the cookies just right-not burnt. "Phew." She places the pan on top of the stove.

Gendry walked over to the stove and said, "Looks like they were saved just in time."

"Yup." Arya continues to place red and white-colored frosting on another cookie.

"Is that a candy cane?

Arya scoffed, continuing her work. "It's a starlight mint."

Gendry smiles as he says, "Right."

"You should know—you have these at your restaurant," she said with a brow raised.

"You're right...milady," he said with a smirk.

Arya takes a deep breath in but doesn't engage. She starts to draw out a present on another sugar cookie and suddenly feels a coolness on her cheek, making her put down the frosting as she touches her cheek and sees purple frosting. "Gendry, I—" She suddenly feels his hot breath on her cheek and his tongue swiping at the frosting.

She looks up at him and sees his mischievous smile as she takes a dab of green frosting with her finger and places it below his lips. She moves forward and sticks out her tongue, taking in the sweetness of the frosting, then kisses his lips. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as he lifts her on the counter, moving aside cartons of frosting, as they continue to kiss each other.

With his finger, he places frosting on her collar bone and moves his lips down to her chin, down her throat, and licks where he put the frosting, making Arya moan with pleasure. She's glad she wore a low cut blouse as Gendry placed a little bit of red frosting just in between her breasts. "Mmm—Gendry, feels so good," she whispered."

"Yeah?" He continued to lick and kiss the spot in between her breasts, his thumb slightly touching the edge of her breast, making her shiver with delight.

"You fucking know it does," she said as his lips touched hers, kissing her hard.

Gendry looks back at the oven clock. "We have a few moments before the next batch of cookies is done," he said. He lifts her again from the counter, and before they move towards the couch in the next room, Arya grabs a carton of frosting and places just a dab on his nose, her other hand on his shoulder.

She shrugs as she licks the frosting off his nose. "We have something to keep us busy until then."

[vanilla107]

Underneath the Mistletoe (Part 1)

Hello everyone!

It's the most wonderful time (inhales) of the YEARRRRRRRRRRRRR! If you've been reading my angsty as hell She-ra fanfiction (it's called 'I thought we were best friends') then you know I've been planning on writing a fluffy more happy fanfiction for Catradora! I hope that you are spending your holidays with your loved ones and if you are not, then I hope that this fanfiction provides some love <3. Have a great Christmas everyone!

Stay healthy! vanilla107 xoxo

Summary: It's Adora's first Christmas in Brightmoon and to say she's uneducated about Christmas is an understatement. Bow and Glimmer make it their personal mission to educate the ex-Horde soldier but when Catra makes a surprise visit, it's a Christmas that Adora will never forget.

Read on A03

Part 2

She ra masterlist

It was December in Etheria and the whole of Brightmoon was a buzz of activity.

There was brightly coloured lights draping the palace and the smell of gingerbread floated from the kitchen throughout the corridors. Everyone was excited for Christmas and the energy was infectious that year. Apparently Hordak and Queen Angella had decided to call a ceasefire for the season so the Princess Alliance didn’t have to worry about the Horde attacking them.

Adora was still paranoid.

“This makes no sense. Why would Hordak do this?” she asked as she paced around Glimmer’s room.

Glimmer and Bow were wrapping presents for the big Christmas dinner they were having in a few days and they glanced at each other with worry.

“Adora, I know it seems fishy but don’t worry. Just because there’s a ceasefire doesn’t mean that my mom didn’t removed any security from Brightmoon. I don’t really know why Horak of all people decided to agree with my mom but we should just enjoy ourselves.”

“But-”

“No buts Adora. Christmas is a big thing in Brightmoon and we don’t want you worrying about attacks. This is a happy time of year,” said Bow as he wrapped some tinsel around his neck and winked.

“Besides, you seriously want to train instead of making Christmas cookies, singing Christmas songs, buying presents, decorating the Christmas tree-”

“-And eating all the food the kitchen prepares, the smell of spices and pine, playing in the snow, making snowmen and snow angels, drink hot chocolate-” continued Glimmer, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Adora looked at them dumbfounded.

“There’s...Christmas songs?” she asked and Glimmer and Bow stared at her.

“Adora...you’ve never celebrated Christmas...have you?” Bow asked and Adora sighed.

“Yep, another thing the Horde never did. We just thought it was a day that princesses celebrate all the evil they’ve ever done to the Horde.”

Glimmer’s jaw dropped and Bow stood up abruptly and extended his hand to Adora.

“Well, let’s make your first Christmas one you’ll never forget.”

*******************************

“Oh my gosh...this...this is heavenly!” Adora squealed and Bow grinned.

They were in the middle of a village opposite the palace that was having it’s Christmas market. There was soft Christmas music being played by musicians and families walking hand in hand buying fruit cake or presents. Adora was wearing a puffy red jacket with black thermal pants, boots and red ear muffs. Bow ditched his crop top look and opted for a warm blue jacket and white thermal pants with gloves.

“First sip of hot chocolate and that’s your reaction? Then you, my friend, need to prepare to have your mind blown,” he said as he gave her a gingerbread woman. Before she could take a bite she stared at it.

“It’s so cute!” she said as she examined the cookie.

The gingerbread woman had a yellow icing dress with green polka dots and a black smiley face.

“Bow...I don’t want to eat it...it’s too pretty,” she moaned and he laughed.

“Don’t worry! There’s a whole stall selling them a few meters away! You can buy as many as you want!”

“Hey guys!” Glimmer ran up to them, her usual purple outfit replaced with a fluffy blue jacket, a purple beanie and pants.

“I found a games stall! If you hit a certain amount of targets you get a prize! Let’s go check it out!”

The trio ran to the stall and watched a few children play. The booth was filled with different prizes on display, drawing a large crowd of children all trying to win what they wanted. They paid for five balls and if they hit the various targets at different ranges they could pick whatever prize they wanted. The more targets you hit, the better your prize. Adora’s eyes went wide when she saw a unicorn plushie with a pastel pink mane and tail. She needed to hit ten, consecutive targets to win it.

“I. Want. That.” Adora said gripping the stall table and Glimmer giggled.

“Okay then, why don’t you give it a try?” said Bow as he paid for his first five.

Adora watched Bow and watched how he hit all five of his targets without a hitch and chose a bag of candy canes as his prize.

“Okay...this seems simple enough…” Adora said as she payed for her first five balls. She took her aim and managed to hit her first three but missed her fourth one.

“I just need to concentrate…” Adora whispered and paid for another five balls.

She squealed when she hit all her targets and paid for her next five. “C’mon Adora! Just five more and you got it in the bag!” cheered Bow. Adora aimed her first ball and missed.

“It’s okay...I just need to start over. It’ll be fine,” Adora said with burning determination.

She tried again and managed to get her first five and then hit her sixth and seventh but missed on her eighth ball.

“Dammit!” she said and banged her fist on the stall table.

Then vendor looked at her with sympathy but he couldn’t just give it away to her.

“Adora, we can come back later...maybe when you’re feeling better and less...um...angry,” Glimmer said trying to comfort the defeated hero.

“But...but it might not be there when I get back! Someone else might win it!” Adora complained and Glimmer began to regret the game entirely.

She knew Adora was stubborn and that she would stop at nothing to get something as easily attainable like a unicorn plushie.

“Hey Adora,” a voice purred and Adora’s heart stopped as she turned around and came face to face with Catra.

Her old friend.

Her new enemy.

The one who had left permanent scars on her back because of their fight earlier that year.

Catra was dressed in a black coat and ski pants and boots. It was unusual for Catra to wear shoes but the freezing temperatures gave her no choice. Standing next to her was Entrapta, also dressed for the cold weather, who looked at the Christmas lights in wonder.

“Catra, what are you doing here?” Adora growled darkly and Catra grinned, her sharp incisors glinting in the light.

“Ceasefire remember? We aren’t allowed anywhere near the palace but we can go to the villages and enjoy the festivities,” she said as she paid for five balls.

“What is your plan? You must be here on Hordak’s orders. He’d never let anyone out because of the propaganda we were told when we were training,” Adora hissed and Bow put a hand on her shoulder.

Catra rolled her eyes and hit all five of her targets, choosing a tiny robot as her prize.

She gave it to Entrapta, who immediately began examining it.

“Hmmm...simple design but I’m sure I can improve it back home…” she murmured excitedly and Catra turned to face Adora once more.

“Adora, Adora, Adora. I guess it was Shadow Weaver’s way of trying to keep us there and swear loyalty to the Horde. That story was all made up. Hordak is allowing only Scorpia, Entrapta and I out so that we can have some fun. Guess he wants us to have a break,” Catra said with a shrug.

Adora couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“So...you’re not here on evil intentions?”

“No...well...we can still cause some chaos,” Catra said with a chuckle as she paid for ten more balls.

Catra hit all ten targets and looked at Adora in the eyes as she picked the unicorn plushie with the pink mane. Adora clenched her jaw as the plushie was handed to her enemy and watched as Catra stroked the plushie with her hand.

“C’mon Adora...let’s go to another stall. I’m sure we can find something else,” said Glimmer.

Even though the princess disliked the Horde, it was Christmas season. The last thing they needed was to end the ceasefire with Adora attacking Catra in a Christmas market.

“Yeah...let’s go,” Adora said clenching her fists and giving Catra one final glare before walking away with Glimmer and Bow to another stall.

*******************************

“I can’t believe her! She stole my prize!” Adora said in frustration as she iced her Christmas tree cookie.

The trio were at another stall, on the edge of the village, decorating sugar cookies. It was quite a comical sight, the three heroes sitting on too small, bright chairs at bright kiddie tables. Glimmer looked up from decorating her sugar cookie stocking.

“Hey, I know you’re angry but there will always be next year...even if it was our greatest enemy taking a prize you really wanted…” Bow munched on one of his cookies and began to ice a star.

“How about you vent out your frustrations while icing cookies? It’s therapeutic. Glimmer and I will check the rest of the village to see if Catra, Entrapta or Scorpia is still here. Maybe if they’re gone, you can relax a little and be less ready kill Catra.”

Adora sighed, “Sorry guys...it’s weird for me to see her here and we’re not fighting or at each others necks.”

“It’s okay. Glimmer and I will look around and come back soon. Don’t eat too many cookies while we’re gone! Save some for us!” Bow said as he walked off with Glimmer.

Adora looked at her snowflake cookie and began icing it. The soft music from the center of the village was comforting and Adora’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Stupid Catra stealing my stupid unicorn,” she muttered.

“Jeez, if I knew how much you cared about that unicorn I never would’ve taken it.”

Adora didn’t need to look up to know who was standing in front of her.

“Catra, if you’ve come to annoy me, I’m going to ask you once, leave me alone. I don’t want my first Christmas ruined because you want some sick sort of fun out of it,” Adora said as calmly as she could and she looked up as the feline.

Catra’s ears flattened and she sighed before taking a seat opposite Adora and took one of the snowman cookies and picked up a piping bag. Adora was still well aware that her enemy was sitting with her and decorating cookies but a part of her ached for moments were it felt like they were friends again.

It felt like it was the closest they were going to get to being friends again.

Catra was quiet as she tried to pipe a white border around the snowman but made a mistake. Adora could see her frustration and bit her tongue. Did she want to help her enemy? Would Catra say no?

“Hey, do...do you want help?” Adora asked hesitantly and waited for Catra to send her a harsh retort but instead she got something unexpected.

“I don’t need help! It’s just that these piping bags are stupid!”

“That’s because you’re holding it wrong,” Adora said suppressing a giggle when Catra looked at how she was holding it.

“Okay fine. You can help me with one! And then I’ll master it,” she said with a cocky grin and Adora rolled her eyes before getting up from her seat and walking around to Catra.

“Okay so you hold the top part of the bag with one hand and the bottom part with the other hand. The one hand squeezes out the icing of the piping bag while the other controls where the icing goes. Once the border is made, you leave it to dry. After the boarder is dry, you pipe the icing into your cookie and the border acts like a wall. Then you can either wait for the base to dry and then decorate it or start decorating immediately.”

Catra listened and then tried again but applied too much pressure on the bag and caused too much icing to come out. She groaned in frustration and Adora shifted a little closer towards her to see the error.

“Be a little gentler, like this,” Adora said and put her hands on top of Catra’s and helped her pipe her first border.

There was complete silence between them as Adora guided Catra’s hands over the cookie. Adora was suddenly very aware of how she was standing behind Catra and how her hands were directly on top of Catra’s.

“There! Not bad for a first try!” Adora said nervously as she quickly took her hands off looked at the delicate work they’d done.

“So...now I wait for this to dry? Ugh, what’s the point if I’m just going to eat it in 2 seconds?” Catra pouted.

“Well...um...it’s pretty and shows hard work. Here, try another one.”

Adora gave Catra a candy cane shaped cookie and watched her patiently as Catra did her second cookie.

“Okay, I think you’re getting the hang of it, now let’s go back to your snowman. It’s border should be dry now.” Adora continued to instruct Catra through the process until two iced cookies stood in front of them.

“Nice Catra! They should be set within the next few minutes,” Adora said admiring them and turned to face her friend and smiled. Catra was already busy on her third and fourth cookie, the one a stocking and the other a gingerbread woman. Adora went back to her seat and picked up where she left off. Bow and Glimmer were watching from a few meters away, shock and smiles on their faces.

“Um...is this a good thing Glimmer? You don’t think they’ll start fighting?” asked Bow nervously. Glimmer hummed thoughtfully and looked at the girls who seemed to be in their own world.

“Well, I think Adora and Catra both know what’s at stake here. I say we leave them together. I know that Catra’s part of the Horde but...Adora was once best friends with her...maybe...maybe she’ll join us? I don’t know. It’s up to fate but this can’t be a bad thing. They have history and maybe the ceasefire will allow them to talk things through.” Glimmer nodded and the two of them walked back to another stall.

**********************

Adora had no idea how long she had been sitting with Catra decorating cookies but it was only when a chilly wind ruffled her hair she realized it had gotten dark.

“What? What time is it?” Adora asked as she looked up to see Catra fully immersed in her decorating.

“Catra!” Adora yelled and Catra jumped in surprise.

“Adora! I was finishing my snowman!” she hissed and Adora stared at her.

“Catra, look around you.”

The feline looked confused and looked around to see how dark it had gotten.

“Um...how long have we been here?” she asked as she did the finishing details on her snowman.

“I...I have no idea...Bow and Glimmer should’ve been back hours ago.”

“Well, I guess this is where we go our separate ways.”

Catra collected her cookies and placed them into a paper bag, not caring that her snowman icing hadn’t dried yet. She began walking away when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait…I…” Catra turned to face Adora, her expression unreadable.

“Here,” Adora said and handed her another paper bag.

“Bye Catra. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Adora walked away as fast as possible, regretting giving Catra a cookie.

“She iced like ten at least! Why would she even want the one I made?” Adora sighed under her breath. “Was...was I hoping for her to talk to me?”

The snow crunched under her boots and she looked up at the sky as snowflakes began to fall. She had walked a good distance away from the village when Catra’s voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned around to see Catra looking slightly out of breath and glaring at her.

“Wait...I…here…” Catra hissed producing the unicorn plushie from under her coat pocket and thrusting it into the blonde’s hands. Adora stared at the plushie she held in her hands, it’s soft fur still warm from Catra’s heat.

“You...you’re giving me the unicorn I wanted? But-”

“Look, I took it to spite you but I have no use for it back in the Fright Zone, okay? I don’t need people teasing me of a unicorn plushie. Just take it.”

“This could have a bomb in it for all I know. Or some tracking device,” Adora said with a huff and Catra snorted.

“Listen if it had any of those things I would’ve planted it when I won it in the first place and then given it to you. And you’re one to talk with giving me a cookie which could be poisoned-”

Catra pulled out the gingerbread woman that Adora had given her and stopped when she saw the detail. Adora had made a gingerbread Catra. The detailing was amazing and she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“You...you made this?”

“Why would I poison a cookie when I don’t want you to die? Catra, we might be enemies or whatever but...I would never want you dead.”

“...I wish things were different…” Adora whispered but Catra’s sensitive hearing picked it up. Catra felt warmth bloom inside her but tried to push it down.

  No. Do not feel these things. Go home now.

“I...I need to go. See you, Adora,” Catra said curtly and walked away, leaving Adora alone in the cold.

[captainkirkmccoy]

Hallmark movie plot: A coffee shop barista asks a little girl if she's ready for Christmas, but is unprepared for her response of "I'm not having Christmas." A little snooping, and the barista learns that the girl is still reeling from her mother's desertion mere months earlier. The barista sets out to show the girl - and her bitter, jaded father - that angels are still among us, that romance can blossom any old time, and that everyone needs a little Christmas.

Jim peeked around the curtains of Brew & Bean, the same ones that Nyota just got done fluffing when she slapped his hand away. "Stop, you're actually stalking customers, that's creepy, even for you."Jim was not actually stalking customers. "They're not in here yet, I'm just wondering if they will be.""They will." Nyota bunched the curtains again and sighs when they don't stay, glaring at him for wasting her effort. "Joanna told me that they go to therapy and then get hot chocolates afterward.""You're on a first name basis with Joanna?"Nyota scoffed. "Don't get jealous. You just want to be on a first name basis with her dad."It was true. The father and daughter had been coming in to the Bean for two weeks now and Jim knew this: her mama disappeared on December 1st, they weren't having Christmas this year because they were flying back to Georgia instead and her daddy was grumpy about it. Joanna was okay with that though because in March when he had more vacation time they were having a Christmas in the Bahamas on a trip for the two of them. She hoped her daddy was less grumpy by then. She was sad that her mom was gone but also happy because her parents didn't fight anymore and daddy was grumpy still but not sad. Jim also knew that he had a humongous crush on the newly single father and prayed to every power that be that the guy could possibly be bi or at the very least be willing to have a friend who was a full-time barista and part owner of "one of the best coffee joints in San Francisco" (the San Francisco Chronicle's words, not Jim's). The door opened with it's cheery jingle and Jim jumped back, dodging around the corner to avoid being spotted by the window, "But daddy, I'm responsible.""I know, buttercup." Dr. Leonard McCoy, who liked his coffee black, one sugar, splash of milk, said, ushering his daughter through the door.". "But like it or not, you're not going to want to walk the dog in the morning and I'm not going to let you do it at night by yourself and with my hours at the hospital, it wouldn't be fair to a puppy."Joanna placed her mittened hands on the counter with such disappointment that Jim wished he had puppies behind the counter instead of caffeine. "Hi Jim. Can I have an extra large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream?"Dr. McCoy rolled his eyes. "Small hot chocolate and squirt of whipped cream, please."Joanna sighed. "The usual, Dr. McCoy?" Jim asked while sliding the usual red hot chocalate mug that Joanna favored to Nyota who began to stir the hot chocolate--it was a special recipe from his mother in Iowa who had owned her own cafe with his father before Jim was born. "Ah, Leonard's fine." Leonard said, fishing out his wallet from his black jeans. Jim looked away quickly, grabbing another mug to draw his attention away from the perfect fit and bit of stomach he could see as his plaid flannel lifted with the motion of pulling out the wallet. "On the house today," Jim grinned. "You want a brownie? Nyota just made a batch.""That's not necessary," Leonard began while Joanna chirped. "Yes, please!"It was then that Leonard's phone trilled and he sighed, ruffling his daughter's hair and going in the corner to speak. "So, how's operation puppy going?" Jim asked as he returned the mug to Joanna, she folded her hands around the steaming cup, blowing gently. "Pretty bad. Dad's too grumpy for him to talk sense into." Jim chuckled at the way the little girl sighed. "I bet you he'll come around. Practice those puppy dog eyes like I showed you."Joanna scooped a bit of whipped cream with her finger. "Maybe you should practice it on Daddy, just so I can see.""And what would I be asking your dad?" Jim swallowed as his mouth and throat conveniently went dry."I don't know. A date, maybe?"Jim almost dropped the plate of brownies that Ny handed him. "A date?""Oh yeah, and maybe he won't be so grumpy because he'll have a friend that's more than a friend like grandma wants to set him up with in Georgia and then we can have Christmas and I can get a puppy under the tree." She rocked back on her heels like this was the best plan ever. Jim breathed slowly and carefully as Leonard came back. "Thanks, Jim," he said, smiling warmly and gorgeously as he grabbed his mug of coffee and the brownies and went off to his and Joanna's usual table in the back. He immediately pivoted and almost collided with Nyota. "Damnit, Kirk." She said but before she could move around him, he put both hands on her shoulders and grinned. "Why are you looking at me like that? It's creepy, stop." She tried to shrug off his hands but he just squeezed gently. "Ny. I have an idea. And I need your help."

***

Leonard McCoy was not a man to hate Christmas. He wanted to, however, strangle every dancing elf, grinning candy cane laden do-wisher who kept insisting that a holy Christmas was the best way to deal with Jocelyn’s departure. 

Departure, of course, was a nicer word for what she did. And he didn’t even care how bad his heart hurt. He ached, inconsolably for his daughter, who was having to deal with a grinch of a dad and no mama for Christmas. 

“Daddy, someone left this here.”

Jo slid a notecard, cheerily depicting a snowman with little woodland creatures dancing around it. In a scrawl that was almost as worse as his own, it read 12 PM, UNION PARK, ICE RINK. 

Leonard groaned. He had no plans to be murdered today by a random stranger. 

“Daddy, please?” Jo pouted, seeing his dubious look. He rolled his eyes. 

“Get your coat.”

Her squeal of delight echoed around the room and despite himself, he smiled. 

***

Four hours later and Leo wondered what horrible karmic event in his life had led him to deserve the day he was having. 

He endured: ice skating at Union Park; taking a photo with Santa (not just Jo, the camera girl insisted upon instructions in the same scrawl that he too must be in the picture with Jo); hot chocolates at Ghirardelli’s; shopping for toys to bring to the foster home, picking out a tree (the smallest, puniest one that needed a home), a cookie baking class with octogenarians, and finally, FINALLY, dinner. He hoped the day was over. 

Each stop was accompanied by a small note, urging them to the next place. He was wondering if his mother had paid someone to set this up but his mother only cared about having her son and granddaughter in Georgia, not about having any Christmas traditions at home in San Francisco. 

And Jo’s smile grew wider, her laugh grew more genuine, she was more talkative, more open, than Leonard had seen her in months. He felt like he had before Jocelyn had left and he didn’t think he would feel like that in a long time. 

When they finally ended up at Beni’s, a favorite Italian restaurant among locals, Jo was dancing into the restaurant, chatting about the big plate of spaghetti and meatballs she was going to eat (a feat that wouldn’t have been possible yesterday, as she ate only a few bites of every meal). 

“You must be Mr. McCoy and Ms. McCoy.” The hostess said, grabbing menus and guiding them to a small table in the back. 

“How did you know?” Jo asked, sliding into her seat. 

“I was told very special guests would be arriving tonight. I’ve been on the lookout for you all day!” The woman sat down a note at Leonard’s seat. 

“From your Secret Santa,” The woman said with a wink. 

Leonard sighed and sat down. 

“What’s it say, daddy?”

He swallowed, Dear Leonard. Sorry for taking over your day. I heard that you needed a bit of Christmas spirit. When I was younger, someone set up a day like this for my mom, brother and I to make the holidays suck less. I hope this made things suck less, even for a little while. Enjoy dinner. Merry Christmas. 

Leonard showed his daughter the note. 

“So, he didn’t say who it was from?” Joanna asked, her brow furrowed as she flipped the note over. This notecard was two owls in striped scarves and hats. 

“He?”

Jo shrugged. 

He waved the hostess over. “Do you know who set this up?”

The girl looked away but he saw the small grin on her face. 

“You do!” Joanna nearly jumped off her chair. 

“I’m not supposed to say.” At Jo’s look of disappointment, the girl smiled. “But I think that’s stupid and he deserves recognition. He’s in the back, too nervous to come out.”

“I told you, daddy!” Jo crowed and grabbed onto his hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. 

It was there that Leonard found the kid from the Brew and Bean, walking back and forth while the other Brew and Bean barista, Nyota twirled a wine glass in her hand. 

“Ah!” Jim nearly collided with one of the bus boys who was trying to unload a carton of dirty dishes. 

“I knew it was you!” Joanna jumped and ran at Jim. 

“Shit, um, shoot, sorry. You weren’t supposed to know it was me.”

Joanna looked up at Jim, her chin rested on his belly, arms tight around his waist. “Why, Jim?”

“Because, I didn’t want you to think it was...weird.”

Nyota snorted. 

“You did all this for us?” Leonard asked. Jim nodded. “Why?”

“Because no one should be sad at Christmas.”

Jo tightened her hug on Jim and the soft smile that he gave her made something loosen somewhere that Leonard hadn’t known needed to be loose. 

“How can I thank you?” Leonard rasped. 

“You could take him out to dinner.” Nyota said from the corner. 

Jim shook his head. “Not necessary.”

“Have dinner with us.” Leonard said. “Please. And when we come back, just you and I?”

Brilliant blue eyes stared at him, weighing, calculating. And finally he nodded. 

“That would be wonderful.”

“Merry Christmas, Jim.” Jo whispered, as they walked out in the restaurant together, the three of them. 

“Merry Christmas, Joanna.”

[sirjustice52-blog]

watery

When they had not dug lake Victoria to shrink to shift the down town and at that time Migosi estate was the downtown the estate was the a hero plains as European houses got no concrete foundation, they are like in the link below like dog kennels so dont destroy the land and with roads the are not built on the ground to scratch it put lifted with dug pillars to the ground level, with utility of the soil it grows rice and sugar cane which could be grown in other lands cause at that time the population was minimal dude not as per now hunger while u construct houses on fertile cash crop lands, two in 1 phenomenon.

https://www.google.com/search?q=china+metal+houses+images&client=firefox-b-d&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=D1TGGpv4RNMXZM%253A%252CHfEKBYLQTBrYPM%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kRok3JE73HhLiYo8seTuYAWyRD3bQ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiCxvDDmIroAhVpURUIHTtuBvUQ9QEwBHoECAoQJg#imgrc=lmvEEFbZ7dvoeM

https://www.google.com/search?q=suspended+road+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiD5PbbmIroAhWBr3EKHTDiDXQQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

Carli4nia got hot paper and oranges, so wanted to finish it cause to ship tolarge markets of Africa needs air transport which is expensive out of its fuel while ship takes long while the produce is perishable so the lough, we got them once we have the same technology and cash placed online to avoid printing of cash 4 other nations which many nations does and exchange far apart using tourist to avoid inflation in their nations. We GOT YA dude. So looking 4 tribe with sweet mouth to infiltrate other tribes so they eat much sugar things as sugar grows much in Texas, Brazil, Egypt and Sudan. See that plan which has now fallen. The Luo and Kikuyu got that deserve mouth so brings about the jew thing 4 influx of people to migrate here having told them how to make artificial foods, candles, matchbox, paraffin, chemical and even holiday gifts that if other tribes know not can contain them here as they are learning how they are made as long time jew in Egypt bro and at the same time via intermarriages destroy the genealogy of other tribes bringing about bad characters which they want which knows nothing to control and feel better. Furthermore now we got Ae which E-airplanes uses at no extra-cost eliminating fuel on a 11% basis, USA will never be poor out of this bro, so if u thought of the above, think twice, get back to the drawing board dude. I know u were waiting 4 oil to get finished yet their was discovery in Dakota bringing cold to countries that facilitates that such as France. Big shame bro!!!!

Airplane can be made in such away on its head all the way from the front to back wings it has a parachute chamber that when it has fallen after long time when the speed has reduced it is open to avoid the cloth from fracturing, with that it will never fall to the ground to kill. Its just jokes that are employed dude. Click the link below 4 more

https://www.google.com/search?q=spirit+airplanes+company+plane+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiK_JL5m4roAhVM_4UKHRe0DG0Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=spirit+airplanes+company+plane+images&gs_l=img.3...19449.25834..27033...0.0..0.232.2888.0j4j10......0....1..gws-wiz-img.lkUElqmdMDc&ei=Y4xkXsq-DMz-lwSX6LLoBg&bih=654&biw=1024&client=firefox-b-d

https://www.google.com/search?q=long+parachute+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjdqLOTnIroAhX9ThUIHZlqBJMQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654#imgrc=YPrR8lHhVBC1-M

What milk or apricot juice pour out on ya spermatozoa, saliva or mafi or blood does with blood donation reason sometimes, its what it does to a woman menstrual blood, distorting ya mouth lips making the big, ugly or small. Many blame others yet they know not of the above.

Mr Hindu are liaising with local people who got plot parcel to place 4 them water and sell nearby and benefit from the profit gotten bro. They never stop of dubious ways yet says they are good people or want people to leave them alone. How guys? What have u made or is 1 thing u wanna take by force which other nations have made and posted on Google or YouTube but claim to be yours and you have not taken them to courts yet. How absurd is that bro!!!!

If u got a small plane take it with u to ya house once u have landed at a nearby airport, put on ya truck to ya house but if you got a helicopter pack it but sometimes accidents are caused by intruders who open ya airline door maybe from inside using transfiguring people to loose things outside that leads to plane fall. Click the link below 4 more

https://www.google.com/search?q=cessna+jets+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjpmMqJnoroAhXTiVwKHWXkDu4QsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.google.com/search?q=2+people+jets+images&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiHicWMnoroAhUIYxoKHQP3BhcQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=2+people+jets+images&gs_l=img.3...17210.18846..20476...0.0..0.222.1601.0j5j3......0....1..gws-wiz-img.......0i7i30.7A48HDJ_DPw&ei=pI5kXoenLYjGaYPum7gB&bih=654&biw=1024&client=firefox-b-d

https://www.google.com/search?q=smallTruckimages&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiv69aknoroAhWKecAKHaEkDJUQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.google.com/search?q=helicopter+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj23J-xnoroAhVRe8AKHVjaDhoQsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.google.com/search?q=passenger+drone+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiVp5O9noroAhURHcAKHVwlC_8QsAR6BAgJEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.google.com/search?q=nigeria%20fighter%20jet%20images&tbm=isch&tbs=rimg%3ACRDl6Tw-VKBoImDihu42lN3woQU41Bft7PhXcqa0CmgKyOV5h_11SUTUYwn4OFELTMcJSsVlZyVrNmE17E80pNF1cFY1-hbvRgd_1vd3nMuZzzKaMCKzezZvAJQXYbs1vCMUo8_1FrCjPGbhN8qEgnihu42lN3woRFYOYTYmsaCByoSCQU41Bft7PhXEXj9pSPfTuOhKhIJcqa0CmgKyOURXhbwdyA-0zoqEgl5h_11SUTUYwhHfFunDJfesOyoSCX4OFELTMcJSEadKxt68bU3xKhIJsVlZyVrNmE0RnCmJV-y8cAwqEgl7E80pNF1cFRFQW5pHBJvFOSoSCY1-hbvRgd_1vETa53XV-1txTKhIJd3nMuZzzKaMRkrTXHn6wDegqEgkCKzezZvAJQRE-IihN5l7NdCoSCXYbs1vCMUo8Eb1PSW2o4KLbKhIJ_1FrCjPGbhN8RlvQ40r03DLBhWDmE2JrGggc&client=firefox-b-d&hl=en&ved=0CBsQuIIBahcKEwigqZr2noroAhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQBw&biw=1007&bih=637

To curb the above u can use automated padlocks while packing ya plane on the airport ground.

https://www.google.com/search?q=fingerprint+padlocks+for+sale+at+jumia+uganda&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj8oMPDn4roAhUNecAKHQFFALoQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654

https://www.google.com/search?q=fingerprint+padlocks+for+sale+at+jumia+uganda&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj8oMPDn4roAhUNecAKHQFFALoQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1024&bih=654#imgrc=xmVTJAZRsnUgZM

Or use the alarm enabled padlock to ring ya phone 1 in the link below

https://www.jumia.ug/generic-kinbar-super-security-alarm-padlock-black-88943.html

https://www.jumia.ug/generic-security-alarm-padlock-silver-82752.html

next check, My tumblr a/c is mcsleepynelson or sirjustice53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59 or sirjustice60, check it out dude

[pinkipie100]

Lance and the 25 Days Chapter III: Mall

It’s Ficcember Chapter III! Ha ha, nice job posting as late as possible again, requiring another morning reblog, Pinki, absolutely typical! Many apologies, but this weekend was ENTIRELY busy. I was barely home and had to do all my writing in the late afternoon, and in classic Pinki fashion, as I continue to write, I tend to ramble on and on and draw my plots out in a more complex manner than is necessary. BUT F*CK IT, IT’S THE HOLIDAY SEASON!!!

Team Voltron has arrived at their belovéd Space Mall, and it’s time to do some holiday shopping in a place that is guaranteed to have absolutely nothing that they are looking for!

Words: 2576

Category: Gen

Contains: Lance in a hat, thirsty hungry Shiro, Luki, DreamTeam™ Hidge/Punk, Excited Alteans, belief in Santa Clause, Distressed Christmas Mom™ Lance

Trigger Warning: peppermint bark deprivation

Takes place after Chapter II’s wormhole jump, when the team has arrived at the Space Mall.

P. S. Extra credit to anyone who can identify the probably-obscure reference I’m making with the ‘I made it’ line.

The Castle of Lions was parked near the Space Mall, and all of the paladins and Coran had arrived in the mall. Lance, Santa hat atop his head, lead them to the main plaza, then turned around, stepping up on a bench to brief the team.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go over it one more time,” he began. “Shiro, what are you in charge of?” Shiro answered that he was responsible for looking for decorations. “Great. Hunk, Pidge, what are you guys doing?” The pair confirmed that they would be on the lookout for items to make their holiday dinners with. “Exactly. Coran, Allura?” The boy drawled the latter’s name with an extremely friendly smirk, and both Alteans energetically announced that they were going with Lance to search for a tree and learn more about Christmas gift-giving traditions on the way. “Awesome! So, we all know what we’re doing. Everyone will do their assigned shopping first, and after a varga, we can all split off how we want to buy presents for the other team members.” Shiro coughed, making meaningful eye contact with Lance. “Also, don’t forget to buy Keith a gift,” Lance recalled firmly. When the other team members expressed confusion, Lance elaborated, “I’m going to make sure Keith,” Lance made sure to practically spit the other teen’s name, “is going to join us for the holidays. So… everyone has to get him a Chri- um… Shiro, he does celebrate Christmas, right?”

Shiro hesitated for a moment, then responded, “Uh, yes. Yes, he does.” Shiro looked rather unsure when he said this, and Lance asked if Shiro knew whether or not Keith was Jewish, to which he responded, “No, I know he isn’t Jewish.” Pidge appeared to sink just slightly.

“In any case, we’re going to all buy a present for Keith. So just get, like, a knife or something,” Lance instructed. The corner of his lip upturned just so after the jibes at his rival he so fondly missed making. The red paladin then called for the team to fan out, and he jumped down from his pedestal to join Coran and Allura.

Shiro casually window-shopped  through the wings of the Space Mall, seeing very little that could be considered ‘festive’ for either Hanukkah or Christmas. Shiro was beginning to think Lance had given him the hardest job… Did the red paladin think Shiro could handle this just because he was an adult? Coran should have been handling this job; he had way more knowhow of this mall that Shiro, who was here for the first time, did!

The black paladin peered at a small kiosk a little ways away, and his pupils promptly contracted whilst he gasped dramatically. It was an alien sweets stand- with something eerily similar in appearance to peppermint bark. The man gulped, tried to recollect himself, then swaggered over to the kiosk, trying his best to look nonchalant- and overdoing considerably. When he arrived, he pretended to be apathetically browsing the treats, until he came across the peppermint bark.

Shiro leaned on the kiosk surface, pointing to the delectable snack, then questioning, whilst simultaneously resisting the urge to drool, “How much is this, if I may ask?” The unilu manning the kiosk flippantly replied that it was one hundred twenty thousand GAC each, and Shiro tensed up. “Uhhh…” Shiro stuttered. “Wh-why so expensive?”

The unilu stopped filing her nails only momentarily before she continued to file away and sighed, “Look, I don’t know, man; I just work here. It’s probably, like, really hard to procure or… like, rare, or whatever.”

Can’t argue with that… Shiro agreed. The black paladin felt his guts tearing themselves asunder as he struggled to determine whether or not it was worth it. For just one, one single taste of home, Shiro might kill a man. But at the same time, he only had so much money to do shopping for, and he still had to buy the presents along with the décor. Lance would be so disappointed if Shiro came back empty-handed, and it was the least Shiro owed the red paladin in light of Lance promising to have Keith come over for their celebrations. At the unilu’s impatient prodding for Shiro to hurry up and buy something, Shiro made a strained decision.

Forgive me, Voltron, for I have sinned… the black paladin thought as he paid the kiosk worker and picked out a piece of peppermint bark. He then swiftly turned away, gazed lovingly at the alluring, candy cane crumble-topped sweet, and, with a tear in his eye, he took a bite of the… rock? Shiro’s teeth clacked against solid, tasteless stone, and the alleged peppermint pieces punctured the roof of his mouth. He yelped and flinched his hand away from his mouth, taking a closer look at the holiday treat.

“Dude, like, why are you eating that gemstone?” the unilu called from behind Shiro. At the paladin’s flabbergasted, ‘what?’ the worker reiterated, “The Anbytorian Gemstone that you just bought! Why the heck did you just try to eat it?!”

Shiro, trying and failing to keep his face neutral, whined in a wobbly voice, “This is… a rock?” The unilu nodded boredly, and Shiro’s eyes welled up. “No… no reason…” he uttered, and he walked away shamefully and with a broken heart.

“Weirdo,” the unilu working at the jewelry kiosk rolled her eyes.

Seriously, I think finding a tree or some holiday foods would be one thousand times easier than finding decorations, only to be tricked into buying some expensive-as-quiznack peppermint bark that isn’t even edible, Shiro thought tragically, staring down at the gemstone in his hands. Suddenly, he got an idea, and immediately brightened up. He rushed back to the kiosk, and slammed his palms on the table surface, enthusiastically asking, “Excuse me, but where can I find an Anbytorian-themed shop?”

“This smells just like cherries!” Pidge called to Hunk, holding up a basket of yellow, spring-shaped fruits.

“I found something that works just like oil,” Hunk called back, “only it works even faster!”

“Powdered sugar equivalent!” Pidge declared, purchasing a few bags of light green edible powder.

“Eggs for the sufganiyah dough!” Hunk mentioned, displaying a bag of strange, transparent-cyan embryos in a clear fluid.

“This restaurant had something almost exactly like corn syrup that we could use for making candy canes!” Pidge pointed out.

“This kitchen has a giant apple that tastes exactly like roast beef!” Hunk showed off.

“Whoo, we’re on a roll!” Pidge cheered, hauling an applesauce substitute into her bag. Hunk high-fived her in agreement, smirking at her.

“You know, I was thinking. Maybe we could do more than just cook meals for ourselves,” Hunk mused to his shorter friend. When Pidge expressed curiosity, the yellow paladin stated further, “Since there are so many displaced refugees on Olkarion, I figure it might be a nice gesture for Team Voltron to cook a feast for them. You know, maybe just for a night.”

“Hm, that sounds like a great idea… The… most selfless idea I’ve ever heard… but, who would cook it?” the green paladin inquired. Hunk blankly stared at Pidge, then proclaimed that he would, of course. “Hunk for all of those people? That’s a tall order, even for you!”

Hunk agreed that it would be quite the feat, so he may need some assistant cooks. He could enlist the help of a few Olkari if they were willing, plus Lance knew how to cook somewhat well.

“When would we host it?” Pidge finally wondered.

After some deliberation, Hunk proposed, “What about the night before Christmas? That way we could unwind on after a big Voltron event, and we would already have the Christmas dinner cooked. It won’t conflict with Hanukkah, either, and we could spend the days between the two doing some cooking ahead.”

Pidge nodded in approval and suggested, “This may just be my Jewish side wanting to put my two cents in, but what do you say I… I don’t know, light some candles and hang some lanterns in the trees around the forest, and that’s where we could host the feast?” Hunk complied with her idea spiritedly, and the two shared an immensely warm smile, then high-fived again. Afterwards, Pidge pointed to another food court up ahead, and the friends hurried along.

Hunk clenched up, however, stopping Pidge in her tracks. “Not this food court,” Hunk wheezed out, shielding the side of his face with his hand and marching right past the food court that held Vrepit Sal’s in it, and Pidge followed suit.

“Santa does all of that in one night?” Coran gasped in disbelief.

Lance reaffirmed Santa Claus’s capabilities, claiming how he just makes sure to stay on track with each time zone while he made his rounds through each chimney. He also reminded the Alteans that Santa was also magic, so if he was running behind schedule, he just slowed time down by a little bit.

“You say that Santa Claus is immortal?” Allura pondered, and Lance nodded to this, saying that the guy had just been old for a very long while. “Shiro also said that he breaks into your house. Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“No, no, Allura! Shiro doesn’t know what he’s talking about- Santa doesn’t need to break into your house because of magic! Plus, he goes down the chimney- burglars break your door open. It’s different,” Lance waved off, flipping his head and causing the fluffy white ball of his had to bob.

Coran observed this and commented, “Where did you get that?”

“I made it,” Lance voiced, smiling in Coran’s direction.

Allura requested that Lance describe the process of gift-giving further as the Cuban boy browsed some statuettes at a kiosk. Lance turned his nose up and revealed that finding gifts was the most complicated aspect of Christmas shopping or Hanukkah shopping. He held a statuette up to Allura’s eyes and asked her, “Do you think Coran would like this?” When Allura looked Coran’s way, Lance quickly corrected himself, “Don’t tell her, Coran! Allura has to figure this out by herself.” Allura, suddenly sweating, reluctantly drawled out an unsure ‘yes.’ “Coran?” Lance signaled for confirmation, and the older Altean smiled brightly and nodded in Allura’s direction. Allura jumped up in celebration, and Lance applauded her. “In a normal situation, you probably wouldn’t have Coran around to confirm whether or not he wanted this, but your intuition proved to be correct. So, you buy this and give it to him as a present. Now, another way to decide whether or not to buy something as a gift is to pay close attention to the recipient’s needs and/or wants. Coran, what’s something that Allura might have wanted in the past that she probably still wants?”

Coran thought hard, taking a moment to consider the recent past for anything Allura was particularly longing for, beside the defeat of the Galra Empire, and Allura smirked at him with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, he snapped and said, “Oh! Something… shiny,” which earned him a gasp and an ‘aw, Coran!’ from Allura.

“Excellent, Coran!” Lance gave a thumbs-up to the Altean, and then he added, “One last thing- You absolutely cannot tell the recipient of the gift what they got. That surprise has to wait until they actually open the present, okay?” His friends nodded in understanding, and Lance finished, “Okay, you’re ready. But first, we still need to find a tree…”

Lance greeted a store worker, politely inquiring about where the trio could acquire a tree of any sort. The worker, giving Lance the most bewildered look, answered him, “Why would you need to buy a tree?” Lance’s shoulders dropped, and he tried again, this time settling for any shops selling bushes, shrubs, or small plants, and the Galra reiterated, “Again, what in the name of Zarkon do you need some plant for? Sorry, kid, but we don’t have any plant life merchants… I mean, if that’s what you’d call ’em.” 

“Um, this is for something very important to my culture,” Lance declared with what was dangerously close to a snarl. “It’s for a sacred holiday- Surely you won’t refuse me service if you understood that?” The worker shrugged, unsure what Lance meant by ‘holiday,’ and left the group, leaving a very vexed Lance fuming.

The red paladin’s arms flew up into the air as he furiously ranted, “NO plant merchants?! What, has space evolved beyond the hobby of gardening?! And just walking away like that too, like a cultural holiday is trivial! This is unbelievable, it can’t be-” Lance rushed over to the nearest map and scrolled through the directories of both levels with frightening comprehension speed, then growled when he found no stores for plant purchasing. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” he squealed, the Santa hat’s ball bouncing every which way. “WE CAN’T HAVE CHRISTMAS WITHOUT A TREE! IT’S, LIKE, CENTRAL TO THE WHOLE IDEA OF CHRISTMAS!!! HOW IS SANTA GOING TO FIND US WITHOUT A TREE TO SIGNAL TO HIM? HE WON’T BE ABLE TO FIND US!”

Both Alteans put their hands on Lance’s shoulders, attempting to calm him, but he refused to stop making a scene. Allura did her best to put on a soothing voice to possibly seduce Lance into a less frustrated state, but even that was ineffective. Coran turned around to tell those staring that there was nothing to see here, but the passersby did not cease their gawking, muttering about the pointlessness of buying a tree.

“LANCE!” Allura hissed, gripping Lance’s arms painfully tight, forcing him to submit. “We will find a tree, I promise you that, just not here. There are certainly planets that we could find the tree that you’re looking for- or, rather that Santa Claus is looking for. Lance, you have to understand… The Galra don’t have much of a regard for nature anymore. In a Galra-owned mall, there’s probably little enthusiasm about gardening.”

Lance huffed, crossed his arms and tossed his head away. “That’s their dumb mistake. First thing when the Galra Empire falls completely, I’m instating a Galra-Tree Reconciliation Initiative.”

Allura giggled and patted his shoulders in apology and endearment, then suggested they just commence their gift-shopping. She claimed that the team would search elsewhere for a Christmas tree, and it would be the best one Lance had ever seen- certainly better than any Galra-provided one. Lance softened his countenance and loosened his posture, complying to the princess’s proposal.

Allura nodded in Coran’s direction, and they strolled toward one another, meeting halfway. “I’ve calmed him down, and since it’s already been roughly a varga, we’re going to split up so we can start looking for gifts to buy right now,” she explained. The princess glanced back at Lance, whom pointed the direction he was going to head out, and she and Coran waved him off. She instantly swung back to Coran, uttering to him, “Keep a close eye on him; I don’t trust him not to get worked up if he doesn’t find the gifts he’s looking for.”

“Shouldn’t you have more faith in him, Princess?” the Altean suggested.

“Under any other circumstances, I would, but…” Allura began.

“He seems a bit of a… perfectionist in this matter?” Coran finished. Allura nodded fearfully, and the older Altean affirmed, “I’ll keep him in my sights while I shop; but just to be clear, I won’t spy on him to find out what gift he’s getting you!”

“Aww!” Allura pouted.

[viddasaala]

title: sugar daddy

pairings: willy wonka/linguini

fandoms: charlie and the chocolate factory + ratatouille

summary: after remy and linguini’s restaurant goes under, linguini is forced to accept a job at wonka’s factory, but he finds himself enticed by the candy man’s lunacy. 

words: 2.8k (seriously)

enjoy my masterpiece

Linguini stepped in front of the Wonka Factory’s menacing gates. He held Remy in the palm of his hand, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His old restaurant with Remy had gone under, and Linguini needed cash. Fast. The prospect of potentially inheriting Wonka’s factory was too great to resist, but in order to do that, he’d need to lie about being a master chef. Again. Linguini would be lying if it was just the money that enticed him. Wonka was elusive and mysterious, and it piqued his curiosity like never before.

“Okay, little chef, I’m going to need you to do your puppeteering thing again. I’m sorry to put you in this position again, but….We really need this,” Linguini said, his eyes shining with desperation. Remy simply nodded, and Linguini gently placed Remy on his head, then covered his head with a Wonka factory hat.

Linguini stepped forward and gently pushed the red button in front of him. The menacing gates swung open, and Linguini stepped forward into his uncertain future. As soon as Linguini stepped forward toward the factory, the gates suddenly closed behind him. Linguini swallowed hard, and made his way to the door.

A tall and slim figure stepped out of the door, adorned in vibrant purples and golds. He held a cane in his hand, and he smiled brightly at the sight of Linguini. His smile had a hint of mischief, which was slightly unnerving to Linguini.

“Ah, you must be Linguini! I’ve heard so much about you!” Wonka shouted, forcefully grabbing Linguini’s hand and rapidly shaking it. Despite the fact that Wonka looked like a twig, Linguini could feel immense strength behind his grip. Linguini wondered to himself how Wonka could be so strong….He found it attractive.

“Um, yes! I’m Linguini. I’m here to, ah, help you make candy,” Linguini chuckled nervously, looking away. He found himself fighting away embarrassment. He silently hoped that his face wasn’t bright red.

“Yes, yes! You’ll need to get started right away! Right away!” Wonka shouted with enthusiasm. Linguini found himself reeling from his enthusiasm. “This way, this way!”

Wonka opened the door behind him, and they both stepped into his factory. Linguini noticed dwarfish orange skinned people working their small frames away. He couldn’t help but make an internal comparison to a certain American president.

“Oh, these hard workers are my Oompa Loompas. They work quite hard! Without them, nothing in this factory would be possible,” Wonka explained, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, um.” Linguini had no idea what to say, but he found himself comparing the Oompa Loompas to Remy. Without Remy, nothing Linguini did was possible, just like the Oompa Loompas with Wonka. Maybe Wonka and I are more similar than I thought….

“So, Mr. Wonka, where am I going to be working?” Linguini inquired, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m glad you asked! And please, call me Willy,” Wonka insisted. He gestured for Linguini to follow him, and began walking down the ornately decorated halls. Linguini silently followed him, observing his surroundings.

Eventually, the two made it to a workstation with contraptions that Linguini had never seen before in his life. He was sure that Remy would know what to do. He hoped that Remy would know what do, at least. We need to impress Mr. Wonka, wait, no, the money !

“Ah, Miste- Willy. I don’t know how to work any of these machines.”

“Oh, let me show you!” Wonka grabbed Linguini’s hand and lead him over to one of the machines.

“This one is called the Doodlysnoofer. You’ll use it to mix new flavors.”

Linguini was too distracted by the warmth permeating from Wonka’s gloved hand that he had no idea what to say. Wonka gestured to the buttons and explained what they did, but all Linguini could focus on was the fact that the elusive, and very attractive Wonka was touching him.

Remy noticed that Linguini wasn’t paying attention, so he gave a hard pull on Linguini’s hair to draw him away from his thoughts. Linguini visibly winced, and he bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from shouting in pain.

“I think that’s all I have for you. Let me or one of my Oompa Loompas know if you’re having any trouble. I can’t wait to see what you come up with, Linguini,” Wonka said with a wink and a smile, before he began to strut away from them.

If Linguini didn’t know better, he’d say that he was starting to develop a bit of a crush on Wonka. Who could blame him? His entire motivation at first was money, but if he could….he’d love to hold Wonka’s hand or something. He thought that’d be pretty neat.

“Oh, little chef, what am I getting us into?” Linguini murmured, staring at the contraptions in front of him.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hours later, Linguini found himself with a few creations that he found acceptable. He certainly hoped they’d be palatable to Wonka. Linguini let Remy sneak some candy, too, as a token of his gratitude.

“So! Linguini! How’s everything coming along?” Wonka suddenly shouted, appearing next to Linguini. Linguini’s face went bright red with surprise. He jumped, almost dropping his spoon.

“Miste- Willy! Um, everything’s coming along okay. I’ve come up with a few taffy flavors that you might like,” Linguini said, fixing his gaze away from Wonka’s. His gaze was too intense- it made his stomach twist and turn.

“Ooh, I can’t wait to taste it.” Wonka reached for the taffy that Linguini made.

“That taffy’s apple pie flavor,” Linguini explained with a shy smile.

“Excellent.” Wonka took a bite that was almost too seductive for Linguini to bear. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him for a second. Could- could Wonka be attracted to me too?

“This has excellent flavor. Nice work!” Wonka exclaimed, grinning. A blush crept onto Linguini’s face, and he suddenly turned his head away from Wonka in an attempt to conceal it.

Wonka simply chuckled. “Well, I’ve got other work to get to, but I’ll be seeing you in a bit. Ta-ta!”

And as quick as he had appeared, Wonka vanished. Linguini let out a sharp sigh, and lifted his head off of his hat to let Remy out. He scooped Remy off his head with his hands and smiled down at his little friend.

“Oh little chef, what have I gotten us into?” Remy looked up at Linguini, confused.

“This is going to sound really crazy, but I think I might...like Willy. He’s so mysterious, and I don’t know what to do with myself whenever he’s around. I know I shouldn’t be developing feelings for him, so I’m going to try my best to hide them,” Linguini said quietly with a sigh.

Remy simply looked up at Linguini and blinked. Linguini let out a laugh. Sometimes, Linguini wished that Remy could talk to him so he’d knock some sense into him. Even though they couldn’t necessarily communicate the way Linguini wanted him to, he was never alone as long as he had Remy.

Later on, Wonka came to check in with Linguini. They exchanged flirtatious touches and glances- and Linguini could barely hold himself together whenever Wonka was near. He was falling hard, and fast. He needed to do something.

On all of his breaks, Linguini would sit and quietly talk to Remy. Talking to his little friend made the days go by faster and it made them easier- his passionate infatuation with Wonka aside. Whenever Linguini felt stressed, his little chef helped the stress melt away.

“Little chef, I think I’m really falling for Wonka. I know I’ve been in love before, and things with Collette didn’t exactly work out, but- I’ve never felt this way before. I really, really like him. I hope...he likes me too,” Linguini said with a lovesick smile.

Wonka’s back was pressed against the wall nearby. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but...he could barely believe his ears. Linguini likes him! That way! Wonka could feel his heart beating in his ears. Wonka didn’t know what he could say to him, but he found himself wanting to rush towards Linguini and sweep him up in a kiss.

Wonka drew in a deep breath, and decided that he had to confess. Wonka had never felt this way about anyone, but that was a given when he was surrounded by Oompa Loompas for company. Wonka whispered some words of encouragement to himself, then stepped out to confess to Linguini.

“Linguini!” Wonka exclaimed. Linguini looked up at him with surprise. “I- who were you talking to just now?”

“Um, just myself. I...like to call myself Little Chef, aha,” Linguini lied with an awkward chuckle.

“You and I have a lot in common. I mean, I don’t call myself ‘Little Chef’ or anything, but I do talk to myself. About..feelings.”

“Y-you heard that?” Linguini’s face froze in horror, but Wonka simply nodded with a bashful smile.

“I did! And I feel the same. I want to be your sugar daddy, Linguini,” Wonka confessed.

“I don’t think you’re using that phrase right, but...wow. Wow,” Linguini’s face simply gaped, joy and happiness bursting inside of him.

Wonka laughed and rushed towards Linguini, sweeping him up in a passionate kiss. Even after Wonka pulled apart, Linguini could feel Wonka’s heat on his lips. Linguini laughed, his face as red as a tomato.

“Your lips are sweet, Willy. You definitely could be my sugar daddy,” Linguini said with an awkward laugh, immediately regretting what he said as soon as the words left his lips. Wonka wanted to plant even more kisses on Linguini’s lips, but he also enjoyed looking at his big nose.

“I hate to say it, but I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you later,” Wonka said with a wink. And in a flash, Wonka was gone.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Every time Linguini and Wonka saw each other, they would passionately make out. Linguini was grateful that the Oompa Loompas weren’t the gossiping types, but Linguini and Wonka would sneak away all the time to smooch.

Their main meeting place was Wonka’s glass elevator. They would sit under the comforting stars and talk about their feelings, about their pasts. Linguini felt like he could trust Wonka with anything, but there was one secret he didn’t bother telling Wonka about- Remy.

“I used to have a restaurant in France, but it quickly got shut down. I inherited it from my father, Gusteau. But...he never raised me. I’m his bastard kid,” Linguini said nonchalantly, taking a swig of wine.

“That Gusteau? No wonder why you’re so skilled at making candy. And it explains why you’re so skilled with your hands in general,” Wonka said with a hearty laugh.

Linguini nearly choked on his wine at that comment. “Oh, um. Yeah, I guess that could explain it.”

“I’m just teasing, Linguini. It’s cute when you become as red as a tomato, though. I should try to tease you more often!” Wonka said with a laugh.

“You know, Wonka, I never thought that I’d have something like this again. You complete me in ways I never knew could be completed,” Linguini said with a smile, leaning in to kiss Wonka’s lips. Wonka could smell the fruity scent of wine on Linguini. Their lips brushed, and the two felt whole.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

During one of his breaks, Linguini sat on a stool with Remy cupped in his hands.

“You know Little Chef, I can’t help but wonder how much Willy’s going to pay us for this. I mean, sure, the other perks are nice, but...I really want to know how much we’ll get paid for all our trouble,” Linguini wondered in a hushed tone.

Remy simply blinked and nodded. Remy was trying to be supportive of Linguini and Wonka, but he could hardly see a reason for him to stay. There was no payoff, his colony was not being helped, and Remy was technically not living his dream as a chef.

“There’s one thing I’ve been wondering this whole time, though. Where does Willy keep all of his recipes? And I heard whispers about Fizzy Lifting Drinks? It sounds….interesting,” Linguini wondered, breaking off a chunk of cheese and handing it to Remy.

Wonka found himself listening in on Linguini’s conversation again, his back pressed against the wall. He felt his heart sink in his chest. Linguini was just using him like everyone else has used him! All Linguini wants is to steal from him, like everyone else.

Rage boiled inside of him, and he stepped out into Linguini’s view. Remy was already hidden back in Linguini’s hat, so that secret was safe for the time being. Wonka’s hands balled up into fists, rage boiling over.

“All you want is money, is that it? You want my recipes? You want to steal fizzy lifting drinks?!” Wonka shouted, tears brimming his eyes. “I thought you wanted to love me, but instead you want to use me, like everyone else!”

“Willy, that’s not it at all! I-I love you, I’m still here because I want to be with you!” Linguini exclaimed, attempting to shield himself from Wonka’s fury.

“Get out!” Wonka screamed, tears rolling down his cheeks.. “I don’t want to see you here again. You’re just a liar like everyone else.”

“Willy, wait-”

“I said. Get out!”

Linguini simply fell into silence after that. He gathered up his items, and looked mournfully at Wonka as he left.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The tall and sharp gates closed behind him, leaving Linguini on the sidewalk with nowhere else to go. Despair washed over him, and he sank to his knees. Linguini just wanted to sit there forever, stewing in his misery. But Remy nudged his hand.

“Little Chef, I messed up. I messed up big time. I need- I need to talk to him again, but I doubt he’ll want to.” Remy looked up at Linguini, blinking slowly.

“I’m sorry, Little Chef.  I’m so sorry. I failed you,” Linguini whispered, tears finally falling.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Months later, Linguini found himself working for a bakery in town. He was close enough to Wonka’s factory that he could find the proper time to apologize, but he had no idea when that time would come. So he spent the days making pastries (with Remy’s help, of course. You think Linguini could make a pastry by himself? Pfffft).

And then- Wonka’s gates suddenly opened. Linguini pulled a banana bread to give to Wonka and he raced all the way to the factory without stopping. He needed to see Wonka again, he needed to apologize. He needed to make things right. Without Wonka’s warm and soothing touch, Linguini would never be at peace.

Linguini banged on the main entrance until his fists hurt. He sank to his knees and rested the bread in his lap. Tears began to fall, despair washing over him once more. He couldn’t live without Wonka. He needed him.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there when the door swung open, revealing Wonka’s tall and well-dressed frame. Linguini simply looked up at him, trying to think of a million ways to apologize to him.

“Linguini, what are you doing here?” Wonka inquired, kneeling down to look at him face to face.

“I- I came to apologize. I’m so sorry, I messed up. I never meant to say those things. I really, really care about you. I’d do anything for you. I’m so sorry. Being with you made the happiest man on this planet. I can’t live without you,” Linguini apologized with a sad smile, and offered the banana bread to him.

“I...forgive you, Linguini. I can’t live without you, either.” Wonka took the banana bread in his arms and drew in the comforting scent.

“Wait, before you forgive me entirely, there’s something i need to show you.” Linguini liften the hat off of his head, revealing Remy. “That’s my Little Chef. He’s the one I was talking to, and he’s the reason I’m a good chef at all. I’m nothing without him.”

“Oh, oh! A rat. And i thought I had some weird secrets,” Wonka said with a laugh. “He’s cute, though. He can stay with us if you want.”

“You mean- “

“I forgive you. Please come back. I’m driving myself up the wall without you. I need you.”

“And I need you and your sugar.”

Wonka simply laughed and helped Linguini to his feet. Linguini pecked Wonka on the lips, and Wonka returned the favor with a gentle peck on Linguini’s cheek. Wonka had never been so happy in his entire life. Linguini completed him, and Linguini felt the same about him.

And from then on, the two would run the factory in peace, with the doors wide open for everyone to visit.

[pandemicspring]

End of Second Week

The grocery stores. Packed yesterday in anticipation for Easter. My mom and I had forgotten Easter is a thing. The store was much different than when I last went 3 weeks ago. We didn’t go to Meijer on Westnedge because it looked too full. We went to Hardings on Cork Street and it was still very full, but smaller. Only me and my mom went in and my younger siblings stayed in the car. The prices were higher than they usually are. Most noticeably, Eggs running twice their normal value at 3$/a dozen. Yogurts, 3$/4 yoplait that are usually 2$/10. Chicken thighs and ground beef at 4$/ a pound. Many more people wore masks and skirted around each other nervously, apologizing when accidentally coming too close. We grabbed what we Needed and felt a risk in indulging in extras. Both in cost and in extra exposure time. The employees each talked about feeling nervous/when their last day at work would be.

I do want to recognize how privileged we were in being able to make that trip. We don’t have pre-existing conditions to worry about. We were able to get food for both my mom’s house and my own. All essentials including bread, butter, eggs, oil, and milk were available. A great many things were available and I was even able to get some frozen foods and chicken for my place. 

When I think about all the panic of essentials literally not being available in the grocery store, I think about how that’s a new concept in the U.S. and one we extremely take for granted. When I talked to folks in Cuba, they expressed frustration about regularly feeling uncertain the availability of essentials. We worry now about our food system collapsing, but they struggle every year with access to fruits, vegetables, grains, and livestock products. After the blockade implemented in 1960, Cuba was cut off from its main trade partners in the Americas. They were left struggling with the aftermath of colonization that had overfarmed the island in sugar cane that strips the land, left imported cows that eat imported grain not grass, a people whose diet revolved around rice (has to be imported). After the revolution, there was an argument to diversify the agriculture and the economy, but in order to survive they had to rely on the Soviet Union. This meant they had to keep producing sugar as a main crop in order to satisfy the super power.  People don’t understand that an Island of 6 million people that had spent 400 years as a colony of the spanish and then 60 under the impact of direct U.S. intervention cannot suddenly stand on its own while also being cut off from all of its other trading partners. In 1991 when the soviet union collapsed, Cuba was launched into the special period by losing 90% of its food supply. Accompanied by the loss of oil imports that it took to grow their own.  Cuba has steadily risen and improved conditions with the development of their biotechnology, tourism, and nickel industries, but without imports a consistent food supply remains a struggle. For example, if a hurricane knocks out the agriculture on the island, that’s it. There is none of whatever crop until the next year. That’s why the blockade is murderous. Here in the U.S., we import things all year around from all around the world. Especially from exploitative conditions created by U.S. intervention in Latin America. What we don’t import, we acquire for cheap through farmworker exploitation of the migrants escaping those same conditions. I want to make it very clear. The U.S. survives by our military robbing underdeveloped countries. End the blockade. VIVA CUBA. 

Continuing on, one thing I’ve been trying to be a part of is changing the working conditions in the community most immediate to me, our school. As a composting intern employed under facman and as a student focused on sustainability, what I’m most closest to is our facilities management crew. It’s common knowledge around campus that they’re overworked and underappreciated. The director, Susan Lindemann is the head of facilities and also sustainability. Two big jobs for a person that hasn’t even been signed for a full time position. Right now, due to the state’s stay home orders, they are off work. I do appreciate our school assuring that they will still receive paychecks. However, I still want to push for more when we return to campus. To draw attention to the issue, I’ve begun photographing the campus. Every spring our campus is so beautiful, but part of that is because so much work is put on by facilities to manicure it. Right now since we’re just coming out of spring, not much has changed, but I’m going to continue capturing photos into the spring to show what campus would look like without the work of facman. Unfortunately I don’t have pictures of what the campus normally looks like, but if that devalues the display very much, then I have no problem making this into a long term project and capturing photos next spring. What matters is that in the long term, more attention is paid to our facilities management crew. I invite anyone reading this to take pictures as well for anything they see and find striking, or just spots on campus that they normally find very beautiful.  A Kalamazoo tenants union is in the works. I don’t know how involved I’ll be yet, but so far I’ve taken to attending their meetings and spreading the word to collect information. The goal is to first, respond to concerns created by the crisis, and then handle general maltreatment in the long run. I think it’s promising, though, like many things in Kalamazoo, I have doubts for its ability to reach neighborhoods facing the most struggle. I often feel a guilt because in organizing circles that I’ve been part of in Kalamazoo, I’m usually the only one actually from one of these struggling neighborhoods. I should serve as an ambassador of sorts. I struggle though, honestly. When I go home, it’s as a person at the most. I don’t feel good leaving to college and then coming back as an ‘organizer. Maybe it’d be different if I hadn’t moved around so much (my extended family has lived there for the last 40 years, but my immediate family moved back and forth while I was growing). Maybe it’d be different if I wasn’t trans. I don’t know. But it’s something I struggle with. 

If you’ve read this far and would like to continue into my personal experience, continue haha, but if you have other things to do I understand as well. But it helps me a lot to write them. I’m feeling a lot better going into 3rd week. I have some assignments in and I’m looking forward to hearing feedback about them. I got back up to cooking for myself. I’m getting used to video chats and beginning to really enjoy them. I think it really helped to videochat with my orgs. I still struggle to get down to business writing things, but I’ve always struggled with homework and maybe I always will. What helps a lot is my professors being accepting of late work because I’ve never not turned in an assignment. 

Today I got to talk a little with my 6 year old cousin. I feel guilt frequently for not being a bigger part of his life. I have to consistently remind myself to extend compassion and do better when I can. The energy put towards guilt helps nobody. He showed me today that he can ride a bike without training wheels now. I hope to borrow my housemate’s bike and ride with him when it gets warm soon. 

My mom made some delicious chicken, potatoes, corn, and garlic bread. She’s really getting back into the swing of cooking. I appreciate it a lot, and the fact that I’ve been able to rely on her and through our family, believe that God will take care. 

I’m getting hungry and going to go eat now. Love, peace, and solidarity to all. Thank you for being with me in these times.