#<- I do occasionally do that surprisingly

[chaoticwriting]

New Gotham Rouge

Okay, in Danny's defense, it sounds like a very good idea when he thought about it. Danny is currently laying on top of the clocktower looking at the smog filled sky. A few stars can be seen occasionally while he is staring and thinking about his decision.

When Danny is outed as Phantom. He ran away as his parents tried to capture and cut him open. He hid in a nearby cave for a few days as he thought of what to do when he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Let's fake his own death!

Danny stole a few parts and materials around Amity Park and made a makeshift bomb and rushed towards the GIW base. He freed all the ghosts and made a cinematic scene of exploding himself thus taking the whole building with him.

Danny also sends the ghost to set up a few bombs in his house after making sure Jazz, Sam and Tucker are not there. Just as he 'exploded' himself, the house also exploded destroying the portal and all the remaining research paper about anything ghost related.

Danny dove into the ground as the explosion distracted everyone and chose one direction to fly towards. A few hours later, he found himself in Gotham and surprisingly there is a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham. He flies around invisible while looking for a place to stay and he lands on the clocktower to rest after flying for so long.

Now, Danny doesn't know what he should do because he realizes one key component in staying alive for him. Obsession. Contrary to popular belief (Sam), his obsession is not protection. It is love. Love as in any act of love will fulfill his obsession. Him protecting his town is an act of love towards his town people. Him loving and studying space is an act of love towards himself. Him not taking revenge against his family and people that wrong him is an act of love towards humanity.

So, long story short, he needs to find a way to fulfill his obsession. He is laying on top of the clocktower and suddenly a very good idea comes into his mind.

A few weeks later

-Batcave-

Dick: Are you still searching for the glitter thief?

Tim: Yes. And it's driving me insane how little clue there is of this thief. I even tried asking Selina and even she is impressed by this thief's MO.

Steph: Are you sure you need to be stressing about this thief? It's probably a group of kids stealing glitters just because they can.

Tim: Are you telling me a group of kids can do a heist better than Selina? And this thief or group of thieves for some reason only stole biodegradable paint and glitters from all across the city without us finding where they store them? There must be something I am missing.

Suddenly, an alert appears at the batcomputer and catches everyone's attention. A live broadcast is showing Joker standing in front of a switch as Commissioner Gordon hanging from a rope on top of a pool of acid. Every single batfam suits up and rushes into Gotham to find the Joker before anything can happen.

Joker: Hahahaha. Good evening Gotham and Bats! Today, I have a dear friend of yours playing my game. In front of me is a switch to activate a time bomb that will explode a whole district if not dismantled. You have 20 minutes to dismantle the bomb and with every minute that passes, I will slowly lower the Commissioner into the pool of acid.

Joker then walks slowly towards the switch and flips it.

Joker: Your time starts now! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Batman and the crew rushes towards Gotham as they turn Gotham upside down for the bomb. 5 minutes passed and they become desperate enough that they even roped in some of the rogues like Penguin, Harley, Ivy and Croc. But no matter what they do, they can't find the bomb.

Just as the last minute passes, everyone expects a big explosion engulfing Gotham. Except there is no sound at all. In fact, it is eerily quiet. Everyone turns on Joker live broadcast to see even the man is confused. He turns around and sees Gordon having his feet inside the pool of acid like nothing is happening.

Suddenly a giggle appears. Everyone that hears the giggles starts to get goosebumps as suddenly, a kid with a half clown facemask at the bottom of his face, a green leather jacket, black jeans and white hair appears behind Joker. His hands are holding his stomach as his giggles turn into laughter that is eerily similar to Joker.

???:Hello everyone. I am Trickster. And I am here to crash the party.

Everyone: ????

Trickster: Hehehe, it's so funny to see everyone's confused expression. But no worries I am here to have fun. See, I even have your toys with me.

The Trickster phases his hand into his body and pulls out a very familiar brick. He throws it to Joker and the Joker runs away screaming and trips on his feet falling down the stairs.

The Trickster: Hahahahaha. Do you see his face? Hahaha. Oh boy, I should have recorded this. Hey this is a live stream right? Someone clip that. Anyway, I have defused the bomb. And the acid isn't actually acid. It's just colored water with a light beam at the bottom. I still can't believe he doesn't check the acid pool first.

The Trickster then goes towards Gordon and pulls him down from the rope. After Gordon touches the ground, he unties him and pats Gordon's shoulder.

Trickster: Well I guess this is good enough for the apology.

Gordon: Apology?

Trickster: *Rubbing his neck* Yeah, about that. I was the one that glitter bombed your office last week. I mistook your office for another corrupt policeman and accidentally placed it on your desk. I am also technically the cause of you getting caught today. In my defense, you shouldn't startle me like that.

Gordon: Wait, you're the kid that punched me.

Trickster: I'm not a kid. I'm 16. Plenty old if you ask me. Whatever, here is your phone. Go call Batman to pick you up. I want to go back to sleep after having fun tonight. Adios.

Gordon: Wait-

Trickster then disappears into thin air like he is never there in the first place. If not for his phone in his hand and later confirmation from everyone that watched the live stream, Gordon might have admitted himself into Arkham.

That is merely the start of the many incidents involving Gotham's newest rogue the Trickster.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chicken scratches ☆

synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!

an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..

cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!

when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.

switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.

you sigh "can i—"

"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.

you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.

and so here you were. waiting.

“katsukiiiiiiii—”

“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”

“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”

katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.

you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.

but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.

he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”

busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.

“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.

“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.

during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.

the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.

I love you

both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.

but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.

your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.

harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.

“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.

“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.

“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.

you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."

"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.

[tbaluver]

Santa Baby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader genre: smut + drabble summary: santa gives you the gift of pleasure the night before christmas a/n: hihi lovelies ! i'm trying out this new layout but literally just for the holidays bc i dunno if i can do this for each post lols ive seen so many of my fav writers do this on every fandom so this is inspo from them !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ rest of my a/n will be down below (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

‘twas the night before christmas, fruitcake, peppermint candy canes or any holiday food could never compare to the taste of your cunt debunked by santa xavier.

the warm glow of the fireplace casted both your shadows on the walls, yet the room was ridiculously hot. both of your bodies were sweating in a tangled mess. xavier situates your legs around his head, trapping him to the spot he thirsted so much for.

your limbs trembled as he rubs soothing circles on your thigh as he admires your leaking cunt. you felt like a mess under him, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way.

one arm pressed down on your hips while the other was used to pump his fingers into you. your mind was dizzy, not knowing which to focus on. his mouth and fingers were doing wonders that created butterflies in your stomach.

you tug against his hair, earning a soft groan that sends vibrations over your cunt. he licks a wide stripe from your entrance and up to your clit, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue while keeping his eyes on you.

he pushes his tongue inside of you, groaning from your taste. you buck your hips up into the air but his arm around your hip gently pushes you back down on the carpet. his thumb rubs on your clit, making sure to apply the right amount of pleasure that causes you to moan in pleasure.

there is nothing xavier wants more for the holidays other than giving you pleasure. he knows exactly what to do to get that reaction out of you.

his tongue consistently draws patterns on your wet slick while occasionally sucking on your clit. you yelp out a moan when he inserts two fingers inside of you, groaning softly when he feels how tight you are as you clench around his fingers.

his fingers pump in and out of you, curling to reach your favorite spot before his tongue dives back in, sucking on your clit. you were a moaning mess below him, tugging onto his hair as you kept bucking your hips up. you felt that familiar coil building up on your stomach, your walls squeezing around his fingers.

he watches you with half lidded eyes as you release your load around his fingers. after you ride out your high, he removes his fingers out, sucking the juices of your cunt.

nothing comes close to you all year long

Zayne:

‘twas the night before christmas, the mugs of hot cocoa were left abandoned, growing cold. the plate of cookies was surprisingly left half eaten. stockings that you wore were found on the floor along with zayne’s and the rest of your clothing trailing up to the floor of the fireplace. santa zayne has arrived but he is not finished just yet.

zayne swears he saw the most beautiful angel ever. no, not the one on top of the tree but the one on top of him. tits bounced joyfully that made him feel like he was dizzy. your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop of him and yet he couldn't get enough. his cock rock hard as you slide up and down his length, taking every inch inside of him in your belly like the good girl you are. 

he swears the way you were dripping for him and the countless orgasms you’ve given each other, he might as well just keep you on the good list for your entire life if you kept doing this. his mind completely forgot that the reason this all started was that you were a naughty girl for trying to shake around the boxes under the tree. 

a small lazy smirk curled on the corner of his lips as he held you, helping you bounce on his cock. his eyes half lidded as he admires the markings that littered all over your body, each and every one of them illuminating from the lights of the tree.

he isn’t that far behind from you. he watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide. with a breathless moan of his name, signals him that you reached your orgasm which makes him do so as well. the clenching and pulsing of your walls around him sends another bucket loads of his cum painting your insides milk white.

you looked absolutely breathtaking. your movements were slow as you continue to bring yourself down from your high as you both catch your breaths. he gently pulls you down to rest comfortably in the crook of his neck, keeping himself plugged in you.

you both were lost in your own world until the chime of the clock struck midnight, breaking the silence between you both. you tilt your head slightly, your cheek still resting on his broad chest as he tenderly brushes your hair. with a small smile, zayne whispers, “merry christmas my love.”

Rafayel:

‘twas the night before christmas, the tree was decked out and full of presents, big and small but one particular present caught your eye. a present that was too big to gift wrap.

there stood your boyfriend with a christmas hat and nothing on but wrapping paper wrapped around his sculpted body, specifically wrapped around his cock.

“well aren’t ya gonna unwrap me cutie?” he winks, tilting his head.

wrapping paper scattered across the floor and it didn’t take long for your present to be up and running. effortlessly, it didn’t take him long for him to peel off your clothes.

you sank to your knees on his carpet, positioning yourself in front of the tree where he laid out pillows for you to be comfortable. before you point your ass up to the sky, you take one last look at the ornament in front of you that reflects rafayel pumping his cock behind you.

he admires the sight laid out before him, a smirk curling on the corner of his lips. grabbing the base of his dick, he rubs himself between your ass cheeks, his pre-cum dripping on your skin. he spreads you slowly, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips when he sees you arch yourself more to press yourself onto him.

rafayel sinks slowly into you, letting you feel every inch of his length and vein going inside of you. he lets out a soft groan as he looks down at the way his cock disappears into your tight cunt as he pushes himself deeper, earning a whiney moan from you.

he starts off with a slow tempo, letting you get used to his length before his hips start slamming against yours. his hands roam around your back while occasionally squeezing the plush of your ass. he knows he’s fucking you good from the way your moans sound.

“yeah just keeping takin’ all of me cutie, just like that,”

the mix of your words slur together, “‘s good raf- so good!”, along with every sound that escapes your pretty mouth as he watches your ass bounce back rhythmically against his pelvis was sending him to overdrive.

your moans were muffled from the way you were face down into the pillow, drools spilling out of the corners of your mouth as each thrust sent you closer to climax.

he held you firmly in pace, his hands gripped on your hips, feeling your gushy walls constrict his massive cock. the familiar coil was winding in your stomach as you chased your high, rafayel wasn’t that far behind you either.

with a few hard thrusts in your walls you came around his length, rutting your hips more to milk out his cock before your legs buckled out. his pace slows as thick ropes of cum release into you, his hips roll against your ass to make sure no drop goes to waste. he keeps himself plugged into you as he plants a trail of soft kisses down your face and neck.

luckily for you, santa made sure you get an extra present that following night. a two for one if you will.

Sylus:

‘twas the night before christmas, and santa sylus’s little helper has been so good to him that she deserved her special treat early.

he removes himself in between your thighs, your arousal dripping down to his chin as he admires you. your pussy glistened in the warm glow of the christmas lights and from the flickering fire of the fireplace, your folds slick with arousal.

christmas was around the corner and this early present was meant for you but it seems like his also came a little too early as well. but it wasn’t finished just yet. santa sylus had planned a few more rides down.

once you were ready, you felt his swollen tip nudge at your pretty pussy, slipping in nice and slowly just for you. your back arched on his soft, fluffy luxurious carpet, pressing your chest against his firmer. inch by inch you felt his thick length enter deeper and deeper earning soft grunts fall from his lips.

you rock your hips under his, signalling him that you were ready for him to move more. you wrap your legs around his hips as he gently holds the back of your thigh to keep you in place and the other on the rug.

slowly, he rocks his hips with yours, keeping a steady pace. he captures his lips. picking up the pace slightly. sloppy thrusts and hungry lips, attempting to devour you, made your brain go dumb. between his heavy strokes and sweet kisses, you managed to catch your breath

his lips met your against, melting into your touch. the sounds of lip and skin smacking fill the room along with the fire crackling in the fireplace.

his hand tightens on your thigh while the other grips the carpet as he fastens his pace. grunts and small whispers that are cut off in pants, invade your ear. “so..so good..”

your velvety walls were so welcoming and warm. every inch and every vein of his length can be felt inside of you as it drags along your tight walls. beads of sweat drop down his skin as he focuses on making you finish first but the belly bulge he was watching go in and out of you was not helping him.

butterflies swarm in your stomach as pure ecstasy reaches deep down within you. your back arched when the constant thrusts of his cock became too much. sylus joins you, thick white ropes of cum spurted deep inside your walls.

he keeps you close, your foreheads connecting as you both catch your breath. his hips eventually come to a halt but he makes sure to keep his hips locked with yours so his seed wouldn’t leak out of you.

that’s one present off your christmas list and many more surprises he has for you.

a/n: hihi again lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i moved it down here bc my entire yap is gonna cover the post ( • ᴖ • ｡) and before ANYONE mentions that this isn't giving santa baby from the song that's bc some parts are and some parts are not (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i referenced a lot of songs like nonesense christmas by sabrina, rocking around the christmas tree and just tried to use things from the holidays to make it smut related <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> i wanted to get this in before christmas bc i know some of you guys are going into christmas eve rn ! i hope you guys have a merry christmas and a happy holidays !! ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )✧*｡

special thanks to my beta readers again @ilovemitsuya @deusfoundry @justwinginglife ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ !! mwah mwah ily all !!

[deonsx]

HIII I love your writing! :3 I was wondering how Nagi and Rin would be like when their gf is having cramps? Ty! >0<

Hiii!!! ayayayya a new post and it's me again! + sae with you!

Bllk boys if their girlfriends get cramps

Nagi Seishiro

Nagi notices right away that something’s off. His girlfriend is curled up on the couch, her hand resting on her stomach, her face slightly scrunched in discomfort. Without saying much, he quietly head to the kitchen, filling a hot water bottle and grabbing her favorite snacks—something light and comforting

“Here” Nagi murmurs softly, placing the warm bottle on her stomach and sitting down beside her. They pass her the remote for the TV, already tuned to her favorite show “I’ll stay here with you”

If she’s up for it, Nagi might even offer a gentle back rub, knowing touch can help. They don’t overthink it, staying calm and supportive, always checking in “Do you need anything else? Tea? Painkillers?”

Her laid-back demeanor makes the situation feel less overwhelming, and their quiet presence reminds her she’s not alone. Even if Nagi isn’t the type to say much their actions speak volumes, showing how much they care

Rin Itoshi

Rin notices something’s off almost immediately. His girlfriend is lying on the couch, her hand on her stomach, her face showing discomfort. He pauses for a moment, analyzing the situation before asking “Is it cramps?” His tone is calm almost indifferent but there’s a subtle hint of concern

Even if she tries to brush it off with a weak “I’m fine” Rin isn’t convinced. He gets up without another word, leaving the room. Just as she starts to wonder what he’s doing, he returns with a hot water bottle, a glass of water, and a pack of painkillers

“Take these. It’ll help” he says curtly, placing everything on the table and carefully setting the hot water bottle on her stomach. His movements are deliberate, almost clinical, but there’s a tenderness in the way he adjusts the bottle to make sure it’s comfortable for her

When she tries to thank him or tease him with “You’re surprisingly sweet” Rin’s ears turn slightly red. He looks away, muttering “Just rest”

He sits down next to her, silent but attentive. If she shifts or winces, he notices immediately, asking “Do you need anything else?” in his usual no-nonsense tone. If she falls asleep, he stays by her side, occasionally checking her blanket or placing a hand lightly on her forehead to make sure she’s okay

Rin doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes. His quiet, protective presence makes her feel cared for in a way words never could

Sae Itoshi

Sae notices immediately when his girlfriend isn’t herself. She’s curled up on the couch, her expression tight with discomfort. At first, he stands there silently, his sharp eyes taking everything in

“You should’ve told me” he says, his voice calm but firm, as if this is something he should’ve been informed about sooner. Without waiting for a response, he disappears into the kitchen

Moments later, he returns with a hot water bottle and her favorite tea. He hands them over with an air of nonchalance, but the fact that he remembered what she likes in moments like this says everything

“Drink this” he says, placing the tea in her hands. “It’ll help” He doesn’t ask if she needs anything—he simply knows. If she tries to thank him, he waves it off with a casual “It’s not a big deal” though his actions suggest otherwise

Sae doesn’t hover, but he stays close, scrolling on his phone while sitting nearby. When she shifts uncomfortably, he looks up immediately “Does it still hurt?” he asks, his tone a little softer now

If she tries to tease him, saying something like “You’re surprisingly thoughtful” Sae smirks slightly, leaning back in his seat “Don’t get used to it” he replies, though the corner of his lips twitches in a way that betrays his affection

Even if he seems cool and detached, Sae is attentive. He stays by her side until she’s feeling better, his quiet care making her feel loved in his unique, understated way

Enjoy!

[dangermousie]

When she runs to him, this time not in a dream but reality, and not during midst of suffering but in victory and after they are safe!!!!

The antidote thing was rather sudden, but I will take it!

And we end the drama on a wonderful coda of them having left their titles and worldly affairs ages ago, living happily as harried parents of a hellion little girl and planning a romantic getaway trip now she is finally old enough to go to school. Healthy and loved and loving and oh so thoroughly normal.

Blossom came out of nowhere and ended up as one of my top 5 cdramas of the year. It stayed strong all through the end (do you realize how rare that is?), was gorgeously filmed, and had such an incredible competent, ride or die OTP that will go into all time faves. Sure, it had flaws, some due to censorship restrictions - the tap dance they had to do with the emperor was impressive but imo not fully successful and occasionally random. In a 2010 drama, Song Mo would have just deposed the fucker. Though seeing him have to issue self-repentance edict and suffer was great. And because of that the whole political storyline was not as coherent as it could have been (though still surprisingly entertaining and not brain dead for a drama that none of us expected to the The Adivsors Alliance.) And some flaws were not the censors' fault and revolve around the supporting cast - for example Gu Yu randomly disappeared for the bulk of second half. Why? (Also, personal preference, in a longer, older 70 ep drama, we'd have gotten more of Song Han x Ansu GMP or that prince x warrior princess in Dreamer novel wannabe dysfunction and I'd have loved it, though that is not a flaw per se.)

But overall, it was such a wonderful pleasure and a high note on which to end 2024 cdramas!

[emjayewrites]

the best gift • jules koundé one shot

SYNOPSIS: Jules and Maya celebrate Christmas together…Sequel to Turkey Day

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x Maya Richardson (fc: Ebonee Davis)

TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @cranberryjulce

Jules watched from his kitchen as his mother, Sophie, fussed over the already immaculate house for the third time that morning. Her nervous energy was palpable as she adjusted throw pillows and muttered in rapid French about wanting everything to be perfect for Maya's parents' first visit to Barcelona.

"Maman," Jules called out gently, "tout a l'air magnifique. Veuillez vous asseoir avant de porter un chemin dans mon sol” ("Mom, everything looks beautiful. Please sit down before you wear a path in my floor.")

Sophie turned to him, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Je veux juste qu’ils se sentent les bienvenus, mon chéri. Et mon anglais... ce n’est pas aussi bon que le français de Maya." ("I just want them to feel welcome, mon chéri. And my English... it's not so good like Maya's French.")

Jules smiled, remembering Maya's first meeting with his mother six months ago. Despite the language barrier, Maya had charmed Sophie with her attempts at French and her genuine interest in family photos of a young Jules. This time would be different though – Maya's parents would be joining them.

"Le Dr et M. Richardson vous aimeront, Maman. Tout comme Maya." ("Dr. and Mr. Richardson will love you, Maman. Just like Maya does.")

His phone buzzed with a text from Maya: "Just picked up my parents from the airport. Dad's already commenting on all the soccer stuff everywhere 😂 Be there in 30!"

Jules checked his watch. The timing would be tight – they had his match against Leganes that evening, and he'd need to leave for Camp Nou in a few hours.

The door opened exactly twenty-eight minutes later. Jules turned to find Maya beaming at him, her parents behind her looking jet-lagged but excited. Dr. Angela Richardson immediately moved to hug him while Miles Richardson extended his hand for a firm handshake that felt warmer than their first meeting at Thanksgiving.

"Welcome to Barcelona," Jules said, ushering them inside where his mother waited.

"Bonjour!" Sophie stepped forward, her smile bright if slightly nervous. "Welcome, welcome! Please, come in!"

Maya hugged Sophie warmly, switching to French. "Sophie, c'est si bon de vous revoir!"

Sophie's face lit up at the familiar language, and she launched into rapid French that had Maya nodding along, occasionally asking for clarification.

"Your home is beautiful," Angela said, looking around the modern space with its floor-to-ceiling windows displaying Barcelona’s skyline. "And what a view!"

"Merci," Sophie replied, then looked at Jules for help.

"Maman helped me decorate," Jules explained. "She has much better taste than I do."

Miles was examining the wall of Jules' framed jerseys – his first Bordeaux shirt, his Sevilla kit, and several Barcelona and French national team jerseys. "Quite a collection you've got here, son."

"Those are just the special ones," Maya said proudly. "You should see the storage room."

Jules led them on a tour of the house, ending in the kitchen where Sophie had prepared a light lunch of quiche, salad, and fresh bread. She'd been cooking since dawn, determined to make a good impression.

"This is delicious, Sophie," Angela said after her first bite of quiche.

Sophie looked to Jules for translation, beaming when he conveyed the compliment. "Merci beaucoup! C'est une recette de ma grand-mère."

The conversation flowed surprisingly well despite the language barrier, with Maya and Jules acting as translators when needed. Miles, to everyone's surprise, revealed he'd been using a language learning app to pick up basic French.

"Merci pour le repas," he said carefully, making Sophie clap in delight.

All too soon, Jules had to leave for the stadium. "I've arranged for a car to take you to Camp Nou," he told Maya's parents. "Maya knows where the family box is, and Maman will be with you."

"Good luck, baby," Maya said, kissing him quickly. "Show Daddy what real football looks like."

"That's right," Miles added with a grin. "Show me what all this fuss is about."

Three hours later, Jules stood in the tunnel at Camp Nou, waiting to walk out onto the pitch. He knew Maya and their parents were up in the family box – Maya had sent a photo of them all together, his mother and Maya's parents wearing Barcelona scarves, Miles looking slightly bemused but game.

The match itself was electric. Jules had always played well with Maya in attendance, but having both their families watch seemed to elevate his game even further. In the thirty-seventh minute, he made a crucial sliding tackle that started a counterattack, leading to Barcelona's first goal. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but he could have sworn he heard Maya's distinctive voice among the 90,000 fans.

Barcelona won 2-0, with Jules putting in a man-of-the-match performance. After the game, he found their families waiting in the designated area for players' guests. Miles' expression had changed from polite interest to genuine excitement.

"Now that," he said, pulling Jules into a surprise hug, "was something else, son! That tackle in the first half? Reminded me of my playing days, except you got right back up and started the attack!"

Maya was practically bouncing with pride, while their mothers chatted animatedly despite the language difference, Sophie's hands flying as she tried to explain something about the game's tactics.

"See?" Maya whispered to Jules. "Daddy's coming around to soccer."

"Football," Jules corrected with a grin.

The next few days passed in a blur of sightseeing and family meals. Jules showed them his Barcelona, not just the tourist spots but the hidden gems he'd discovered since moving to the city. Sophie took Angela shopping in the boutiques along Passeig de Gràcia, while Miles surprised everyone by developing a deep appreciation for Spanish wine.

On their last evening in Barcelona, before flying to Atlanta for Christmas, they had dinner at a small Catalan restaurant Jules loved. Watching their parents interact, seeing Maya laugh at something his mother said in broken English, Jules felt a certainty settle over him. The small velvet box that had been hiding in his home since before Thanksgiving seemed to burn in his mind.

The flight to Atlanta was long but comfortable, with Jules arranging for first-class tickets for everyone. His mother dozed most of the way, while Maya worked on her dissertation, occasionally asking Jules to help her with some Spanish terms.

Christmas in Atlanta was everything Sophie had hoped for and more. The Richardsons' home was decorated magnificently, with a enormous tree in the family room and lights everywhere. Jules' mother was immediately absorbed into the controlled chaos of the Richardson women's holiday preparations, her limited English forgotten as she and Angela communicated through the universal language of cooking.

On Christmas Eve, after returning from the candlelight service at the Richardsons' church, Jules asked Miles if they could speak privately. Maya was helping her mother in the kitchen, and Sophie was engaged in what appeared to be a spirited game of charades with Maya's brothers and their wives.

Miles led Jules to his study, a warm room lined with books and family photos. He sat behind his desk, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Sir," Jules began, then paused to gather his thoughts. "Mr. Richardson..."

"Miles," Maya's father corrected gently. "I think we're past 'Mr. Richardson' now, don't you?"

Jules smiled, some of his nervousness easing. "Miles. I wanted to speak with you about Maya."

"I had a feeling this conversation was coming," Miles leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Ever since Thanksgiving, actually."

Jules straightened in his seat. "I love your daughter, sir – Miles. She's the most remarkable person I've ever known. She challenges me, supports me, makes me laugh... makes me better. And I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"And the distance? Your career? Her career? Have you thought about all that?"

"Every day," Jules replied honestly. "We've talked about it extensively. Maya's dissertation defense is in three months, and she's already been offered a position at the Universitat de Barcelona. It's not just me asking her to fit into my world – we're building our world together."

Miles was quiet for a long moment, studying the young man before him. Finally, he smiled. "You know, when Maya first told us she was dating a professional soccer player – football player," he corrected himself with a chuckle, "I was worried. Worried about the lifestyle, the distance, the culture differences. But watching you with her, with our family, with your mother... you're a good man, Jules. You see Maya for who she is, and you love her for it."

He stood up and walked around the desk, placing a hand on Jules' shoulder. "You have my blessing, son. Though something tells me Maya would say yes regardless."

Jules laughed, relief flooding through him. "She would. But having your blessing means everything."

"Have you thought about how you're going to ask?"

"I have some ideas," Jules admitted. "But I'd appreciate your input..."

They talked for another hour, Miles sharing stories about his own proposal to Angela, offering suggestions, and finally showing Jules an old family photo album. When they emerged from the study, Maya raised an eyebrow at them suspiciously, but Jules just kissed her temple and joined in the charades game, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

Christmas morning dawned bright and slightly cold. Sophie was overwhelmed by the American Christmas traditions – the mountains of presents, the matching pajamas Angela had gotten for everyone (even managing to find some in Jules' size), the seemingly endless supply of food.

"C'est magnifique," she kept saying, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.

Jules watched Maya help his mother understand the rules of the gift exchange, translating when needed, treating Sophie with the same easy affection she showed her own mother. The ring box was still hidden back at home, waiting for the perfect moment he and Miles had discussed the night before. But watching Maya now, radiant in her Christmas pajamas, teaching his mother how to say "Merry Christmas, y'all" in her best Southern accent, Jules knew he'd made the right decision.

That afternoon, while Sophie was helping Angela in the kitchen, several of Maya's cousins who hadn't met Jules' mother yet arrived. DeAndre was the first to notice Sophie as she emerged from the kitchen, wiping flour off her hands on a festive apron and chatting animatedly in French with Maya.

"Wait, hold up," DeAndre said, looking between Jules and his mother. "You're mixed?"

Before Jules could respond, MJ's hand connected with the back of DeAndre's head with a soft thwack. "Man, where are your manners?"

"I was just asking!" DeAndre protested, rubbing his head.

Jules laughed, used to the question by now. "Yes, my mother is French – white French," he clarified with an amused smile. "My father is from Benin."

"That's why he got that good hair," Trey joked, earning himself a slap from Michael this time.

"Y'all are embarrassing," Michael sighed, but there was fondness in his exasperation.

Sophie, who had been watching the exchange with curious eyes, leaned toward Maya. "Qu'est-ce qu'ils disent?"

Maya translated the conversation, making Sophie laugh. "Ah, oui! Jules' father... très beau homme," she said in her limited English, making everyone chuckle.

"See? Ms. Sophie gets it," DeAndre grinned, seemingly recovered from his earlier scolding. "Beautiful people make beautiful people."

Later that evening, as both families gathered in the family room for games and dessert, Jules caught Miles' eye. Maya's father gave him a subtle nod and raised his glass in a quiet toast. Across the room, Maya was teaching Sophie how to play Spades, while Angela and the rest of the family cheered them on.

"Je suis très heureuse," Sophie said to Jules quietly, watching Maya with obvious affection. "Elle est parfaite pour toi."

"Oui, Maman," Jules replied. "Elle l'est."

The rest of the visit passed too quickly, filled with more family meals, impromptu dance parties (Sophie proving surprisingly adept at line dancing), and quiet moments that felt like snapshots of their future together. When it was time for Jules and his mother to return to Barcelona, the goodbyes were emotional.

"You come back soon," Angela said, hugging Sophie tightly. "Family doesn't need language to understand each other."

Sophie, tears in her eyes, hugged her back. "Oui, famille," she then managed in English. "Family."

Miles shook Jules' hand, then pulled him into a hug. "Take care of yourself, son. And remember what we talked about."

"I will," Jules promised, catching Maya's curious look. "Thank you... for everything."

On the plane back to Barcelona, Sophie dozed against Jules' shoulder, exhausted but happy. His phone buzzed with a text from Maya: "Missing you already. But I'll see you in three weeks for my conference in Madrid ❤️"

Jules smiled, already planning how he would transform their Madrid weekend into something unforgettable. But that was a story for another day.

"Étaient-ils ce que vous attendiez?" he asked his mother.

Sophie opened her eyes, smiling. "Ils sont de la famille," she said simply. "Et Maya... elle sera la plus belle mariée."

"Maman!" Jules laughed, but didn't disagree. After all, mothers always knew best.

Three weeks later, Maya was in her hotel room in Madrid, getting ready for what Jules had told her would be "just a nice dinner" to celebrate the successful presentation of her research at the conference. She had no idea that Jules had spent the last month planning every detail of this evening, or that both their families were anxiously waiting for news.

In their year and a half together, she'd grown used to Jules' thoughtful gestures and reverent attention, but something about tonight felt different.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Jules: "Car will pick you up in 15 minutes. Can't wait to see you ❤️"

Maya smoothed down her dress – a deep emerald number that she knew Jules loved – and checked her reflection one last time. Her bohemian braids were styled in an elegant updo with the curly strands purposely hanging out, small golden earrings catching the light when she moved.

The car took her through the twinkling streets of Madrid to a historic building in the city center. When she stepped out, Jules was waiting, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored suit.

"You look beautiful, mon cœur," he said softly, kissing her cheek and offering his arm.

The restaurant was intimate and elegant, but instead of heading to the main dining room, Jules led her up a private staircase to a rooftop terrace. Maya gasped as they emerged into what looked like something from a fairy tale. Hundreds of tiny lights were strung overhead, creating a canopy of stars. White roses – her favorite – were everywhere, their sweet scent mixing with the crisp winter air. A single table was set for two, with champagne already chilling.

"Jules," she breathed, taking it all in. "This is..."

"Too much?" he asked, suddenly looking nervous in a way she rarely saw on the football pitch.

"Perfect," she finished, squeezing his hand.

They sat down to a meal that somehow combined French cuisine with touches of Southern comfort food – a detail that made Maya's heart swell with love for this man who always thought of everything. As they finished their main course, Jules grew quieter, more contemplative.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" he asked suddenly.

Maya laughed. "Of course. At that charity event in London. You were so serious until I made that terrible joke about football existing during Shakespeare's time."

"'To kick, or not to kick,'" Jules quoted, grinning at the memory. "It was the worst joke I'd ever heard. But your smile..." He paused, taking her hand across the table. "Your smile made me forget every smooth line I'd practiced in English."

"You'd practiced lines?" Maya teased.

"Mmhmm. None of them as bad as your joke, though." He stood up, still holding her hand. "But that's what I love about you. You make me laugh, you challenge me, you support me... you see me, not just the footballer or the public figure, but me."

Maya's heart began to race as Jules moved to stand beside her chair. "Jules..."

"I talked to your father at Christmas," he continued, and then he was down on one knee, producing a small velvet box from his jacket. "Because while I know you're perfectly capable of making your own decisions, I also know how much family means to you. To us."

Maya's free hand flew to her mouth as Jules opened the box, revealing a stunning ring that somehow managed to be both elegant and unique – just like them.

"Maya Simone Lynette Richardson," Jules said, his French accent wrapping around her name the way it had since the day they met, "you make every day better just by being in it. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and if you'll let me, I want to spend the rest of my days trying to do the same for you." He took a breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "Will you marry me?"

Through tears of joy, Maya managed to nod. "Yes," she whispered, then louder, "Yes, yes, absolutely yes!"

Jules' hands shook slightly as he slipped the ring onto her finger, then pulled her into a kiss that felt like a promise of forever. When they finally parted, the waiters who had been discretely waiting burst into applause, and champagne appeared as if by magic.

"I love you," Maya said, admiring how the ring caught the light. "And I can't wait to see what Sophie and my mama do with wedding planning."

Jules groaned good-naturedly. "They've already started, believe me. Your mother and mine have been texting on WhatsApp for weeks."

Maya laughed, the sound carrying across the Madrid rooftop like music. "Of course they have."

As they celebrated under the canopy of lights, with the Madrid skyline twinkling around them, Jules felt a profound sense of rightness. Their lives might be complex, stretched between continents and cultures, but their love was simple and true. And really, that was all that mattered.

Later that night, after Maya had FaceTimed both their families (who, to no one's surprise, were all gathered at the Richardsons' house waiting for news), she curled into Jules' side and said, "You know what this means, right?"

"Hmm?"

"You're officially officially part of the family now. No backing out of Homecoming next year."

Jules laughed, pulling her closer. "Wouldn't dream of it, future Mrs. Koundé."

"Dr. Maya Richardson-Koundé," she corrected with a smile.

"Even better," he agreed, and kissed her again.

August 2025….

The historic Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta had never seen such a blend of cultures, but on this warm August morning, the sacred space buzzed with an energy that transcended language and tradition.

Jules stood in a side room, adjusting his bow tie for the hundredth time. The past few months had been a whirlwind since he'd posted that simple photo of Maya's hand with the ring, captioned only with a heart emoji. His Instagram had exploded – teammates sending congratulations in multiple languages, fans ranging from supportive to devastated ("It should've been me! 😭"), and even a few celebrities chiming in. Maya had taken it all in stride, her academic's analytical mind finding humor in the social media frenzy.

"Bro, stop fidgeting," Aurélien said, slapping Jules' hands away from his tie. "You look perfect. Though not as perfect as some of these wedding guests I saw walking in..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Jules shook his head, grinning. Some things never changed. "Behave yourself. These are Maya's family friends."

"I'm just saying, Atlanta's reputation is well-deserved," Aurélien defended, then whistled low as he peeked out the door. "The hats alone..."

Indeed, the church was a sea of elaborate hats and fans, church mothers dressed in their Sunday best having arrived early to claim prime viewing spots. Jules could hear their voices carrying through the walls, a melodic mix of excited chatter and occasional "Well, bless his heart" when someone mentioned how nervous the groom must be.

The media attention had been intense at first. Maya's academic credentials and their cultural backgrounds made them a source of fascination. But they'd managed it carefully, keeping their private life private while sharing just enough to satisfy public interest. Maya had given one interview to El País, conducted entirely in Spanish, that had won over even the most skeptical Barcelona fans.

"It's time," Reverend Richardson, Maya's grandfather, appeared at the door. He would be performing the ceremony, adding another layer of significance to the day.

Jules took his position at the altar, Aurélien beside him as best man, along with his other groomsmen including several teammates and childhood friends. The church was packed, every pew filled with a perfect blend of their two worlds – his football family alongside Maya's extended clan, French relatives mixed with Southern aunties fanning themselves with wedding programs.

The music shifted, and the wedding party began their entrance. Jules watched as Maya's cousins and friends glided down the aisle in deep burgundy dresses, followed by her sister-in-law as matron of honor. Then the music changed again, and everyone rose.

Maya appeared in the doorway, escorted by her father. Jules felt his breath catch in his throat. Her dress was a masterpiece of elegant simplicity – off-shoulder with delicate lace details that traced her collarbones, a fitted bodice that flowed into a full skirt, and a cathedral-length veil that seemed to float behind her like a cloud. But it was her smile, radiant and certain, that brought tears to his eyes.

"You better cry for her!" came a loud whisper from somewhere in the congregation, followed by Maya's grandmother turning around with a stern look that could have frozen hell itself.

Miles walked Maya down the aisle with measured steps, his eyes glistening with barely contained emotion. When they reached the altar, Miles hugged Jules before placing Maya's hand in his, whispering, "Take care of each other."

The ceremony was a beautiful blend of traditions. Reverend Richardson spoke of love's power to bridge any distance, any culture, any difference. They exchanged vows in English and French, Jules' voice steady despite the emotion evident in his eyes. After the rings and the "I do's," a beautifully carved broom was placed before them – a tradition dating back to enslaved ancestors who couldn't legally marry.

"Jump into your future together," Reverend Richardson announced, and amid cheers and applause, Jules and Maya joined hands and leaped over the broom into their new life.

Their first kiss as husband and wife nearly brought the church down, the celebrations reaching a fever pitch as church bells began to ring. As they ran down the aisle, guests blew bubbles that caught the light streaming through the stained glass windows, creating tiny rainbows around them.

Outside, they ducked into a classic white Rolls Royce, Maya's massive bouquet of white roses resting between them as they headed toward their reception venue in downtown Atlanta.

The reception space was transformed into an elegant wonderland. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting warm light over tables decorated with towering centerpieces of white roses and burgundy dahlias. French and American flags stood alongside the Beninese flag near the head table, representing all parts of their heritage.

After their first dance – to both a French love song and Al Green's "Let's Stay Together" – and the traditional parent dances, Jules found himself standing with Aurélien and Hugo, watching as Maya lined up with her sorority sisters. The opening notes of their Delta Sigma Theta call had the crowd cheering as Maya and her fellow Deltas, including her mother, showed off their steps.

"C'est incroyable," Hugo murmured, filming on his phone. "The energy..."

"This is just the preview for Homecoming," Jules said proudly, remembering Maya's stories about her days at Clark Atlanta. He'd already marked his calendar for October, arranging his schedule to make sure he wouldn't miss it.

The Deltas' performance transitioned seamlessly into Maya's brothers and father taking the floor with their Omega Psi Phi fraternity brothers. The energy in the room shifted again as they hopped and stepped in precise formations, their purple and gold colors flashing.

"Your new family is full of surprises," Aurélien laughed, still recording.

Later, as the evening wound down, Jules held Maya close during a slow dance, her head resting on his shoulder. The dress she'd changed into for the reception sparkled under the chandeliers, but not as brightly as her eyes when she looked up at him.

"Happy?" she asked softly.

"Beyond happy," he replied, spinning her gently. "You are the best gift I could ever ask for. The perfect match I wasn't even looking for."

Maya smiled that smile that had first captured his heart in London. "I love you, Jules Koundé."

"Je t'aime, Maya Richardson-Koundé," he whispered, and kissed her as their families and friends cheered around them, their love story now written into the fabric of both their worlds.

Tomorrow they would leave for their honeymoon in Bora Bora, and after that, they would return to their life in Barcelona. But right now, in this moment, they were simply Jules and Maya, two hearts that found each other across oceans and cultures, proving that love truly knows no boundaries.

"Ready for our next adventure?" Maya murmured against his chest.

Jules tightened his arms around her, thinking of all the moments that had led them here – from that first laugh in London to Thanksgiving chaos to Christmas to this perfect day. "With you? Always."

And as he leaned down to kiss his bride one more time, Jules knew that while he might have won championships and accolades on the football pitch, this victory – this love – was by far his greatest achievement.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Gingerbread & Us

Gingerbread & Us

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: !idol wonwoo x !non-idol reader

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT), (boyband)

Summary: no gaming this year, wonwoo wanted to show you off to carats.. in a wholesome way

Merry Christmas everyone I hope you enjoy!

I wasn’t entirely sure why Wonwoo was so insistent about gingerbread houses this year. Usually, his Christmas tradition revolved around quietly gaming and chatting with Carats in his soft, soothing voice. But this year, he had other plans.

“Are you sure you want to do this instead of streaming?” I asked, glancing at the spread of gingerbread pieces, candy, and icing he had meticulously laid out on the table.

Wonwoo looked up from his seat, adjusting his glasses with a slight smile. “I’m sure. I want to spend Christmas doing something fun with you. Carats will understand.”

A warmth spread through me at his words, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay, but don’t get mad when my house looks better than yours.”

He laughed, the deep sound making me feel even more at home. “We’ll see about that.”

We got to work, sitting across from each other at the small dining table. Wonwoo was surprisingly meticulous, carefully piping icing onto the edges of the gingerbread pieces before placing them together like a master craftsman. Meanwhile, my house was… let’s just say I had more candy on my hands than on the roof.

“Y/N,” he said, tilting his head to look at me. “Are you eating the decorations?”

“No,” I replied quickly, though the chocolate smear on my lips betrayed me.

He reached out, gently wiping the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “Caught you,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

My cheeks heated up, and I playfully stuck my tongue out at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

As we worked, we talked about everything and nothing—favorite Christmas memories, our shared love for cozy winter nights, and his excitement about Carats seeing this side of him.

“I think they’re going to love this,” I said, glancing at the camera crew subtly filming us for Seventeen’s holiday content.

Wonwoo chuckled. “They’ll probably laugh at how competitive you are.”

“Me? Competitive? Have you seen yourself with video games?”

The staff watching us chuckled softly, one of them whispering, “They’re so cute together.”

I pretended not to hear, but it made my heart flutter. Wonwoo, ever the humble one, didn’t even react. He just focused on his gingerbread masterpiece, occasionally sneaking glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

When we finally finished, my house was leaning slightly to one side, candy sliding off the roof, while Wonwoo’s looked like something out of a professional baking show.

“Okay, fine, yours is better,” I admitted, crossing my arms with a pout.

He leaned back in his chair, a triumphant grin on his face. “Told you.”

I picked up a piece of candy and threw it at him, laughing when it hit his chest. “Merry Christmas, nerd.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, reaching out to take my hand. “Thanks for being here with me.”

The warmth in his voice made me forget all about my lopsided gingerbread house. In that moment, with Wonwoo by my side, Christmas couldn’t have been more perfect.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi��✨️

[carletes]

omtsy - Carlos makes a perfume that smells like Lando’s intimate parts 🙈

It took Lando a moment. Carlos had the guiltiest expression on his face, and Lando hadn’t understood why. They had always done this (well—at least since Lando started living with Carlos): every evening, after Lando returned home from Maestro Luigi’s, he would in the following order 1) kiss Carlos (this occasionally took longer than expected); 2) help Carlos close up shop; and 3) take a good, deep sniff of any new perfumes Carlos had been working on.

Today’s batches were interesting! A rose cardamom, tempered with amber, that made him crave dessert; a gardenia vetiver that Lando wasn’t sure worked, and he knew Carlos already knew that; and, set a little away from the other experimental scents, a non-descript bottle with next to nothing in it.

“U-uh, Lando–” Carlos stammered, but not before Lando had already sniffed it.

Huh. It was odd. Weirdly familiar, but also not. Very surprisingly musky. But also like rain? Only a very distant petrichor, even some wood. It was mostly musky, not unpleasant, just a little…sweaty. Like the way someone’s skin would smell after a lot of activity. Like–

Lando spun on his heels. He stared at Carlos, still holding the bottle of perfume and a dropper. The look on Carlos’ face was confirmation: he looked like a boy being caught touching himself (a simile that Lando wouldn’t have come up with, if not for the evidence in his hands).

“I-I,” Carlos began, before clearing his throat and throwing his shoulders back. “I miss you during the day. And sometimes you have long hours. And sometimes you sleep at the studio. So.”

That was all the explanation Lando was going to get.

The store was closed; Lando made sure the windows were too, before carefully setting the bottle of perfume aside and stripping off his clothing.

“Lando?”

“Aren’t you going to test how close it is to the real thing?” Lando asked, his voice husky, aroused already at the thought of Carlos laboring over a perfume that would smell like him.

Carlos’ eyes shifted. He drew closer to Lando, arms reaching for him, and Lando—now nude, skin pebbling in the evening chill—turned and rested his elbows on the table, his back arched and ass made available to his beloved.

“And I’ll need to know everything about the process, Signore Sainz,” Lando continued, hearing the rustle of Carlos divesting himself of his hose, the way Carlos lined himself up with Lando immediately even as he reached for the bottle that would ease his entrance.

“You would hear about how I took feverish notes, how I knew I was doing well because the smell of it made me touch myself?” Carlos whispered harshly into Lando’s ear. His slick, perfumed fingers pushed into Lando at once, and Lando crooned with it. “You would hear about how the bottle is low because–”

“I would hear about it once you’re inside me,” Lando snapped, impatient with his arousal. And Carlos, despite his nature, removed his fingers and pushed into him, rending the resistance easily. Lando gasped with it, with the fullness of Carlos inside him, and threw his head back.

Carlos took his chin, lifted it, pressed his nose into Lando’s neck and breathed him in. “Fuck. Fuck. Just the way you smell makes me mad. The way you feel, the way you sound, but the way you smell…”

He was fucking into Lando in earnest, no time wasted, his desk rattling against the wall, and Lando caught sight of that bottle again, that evidence of Carlos’ madness. He unstoppered it with a finger.

“You have notes? You can make it again?” Lando gasped, forcing himself to speak in complete sentences and not the babbling he wanted to be reduced to.

“Yes, yes, fuck, so good for me.”

Well. That was assent, wasn’t it?

So Lando tipped the bottle over and doused himself in the perfume. Carlos stopped thrusting, and Lando knew Carlos was watching as the oils glaciated down Lando’s neck, down his chest, his back, further and further until his pubic hair was coated in the oil, until he could feel the oil down his lower back, his ass.

“So tell me, Signore,” Lando asked, feeling more than seeing Carlos’ blown-open eyes, the flex of his fingers, the tension in his body. “Is this too much me for you?”

Lando’s answer was Carlos pushing him down onto the ground and fucking him with a wildness.

[everestgale]

Blink blink blink b

Can i ask what you think are some hobbies or just casual things the voices would enjoy?? if you don’t want to do all of them rn i would love to hear about skeptic’s (biased)

Ooooh, great question!!! Let me see:

For the purposes of it, I'm going to assume the "usual" scenario for my voices, which is typically some sort of post-Unknown Together ending world (so no Long Quiet). Some HCs are just entirely weird/vibes-based, so, uh, you've been warned!

Hero: Probably has the most random HCs of all my voices. For some reason, I tend to think of Hero as a writer and/or TTRPG enthusiast. He probably tried to DM a D&D campaign for his fellow voices. Regretted it after session 1 /hj

Stubborn: Not being super original here, Stubborn loves physical activity/fighting, but I also have a HC that Stubborn would enjoy occasional woodworking. He also self-appointed himself as Broken's personal coach, much to latter's annoyance.

Broken: My Broken has a mild case of chronic fatigue syndrome, and as a result, he prefers to stay indoors. I feel like he would enjoy origami and knitting/crocheting; he probably made himself a few scarves and sweaters.

Cold: He is an interesting one for me (he always is, such a conflicting character for me). I have a feeling on some days, he sees no point in "hobbies" and spends his time observing whatever other voices are doing with their lives instead. On others, he goes through about 18 different hobbies and odd jobs just to see if he finds anything that satisfies his curiosity. Whenever he does start a new hobby though, he is surprisingly good at it, a very fast learner... which is to his detriment because then he gets bored of it too quickly.

Paranoid: As the resident medic among the voices, Paranoid had to pick up gardening to grow some medicinal herbs. He initially hated it, but over time, he's actually grown to like it; it's quite theraputic. I think he would also enjoy realistic fiction or non-fiction reading.

Skeptic: I am convinced that Skeptic would be a linguistics nerd. Really into different languages and especially etymology. I think he would also enjoy journaling, specifically in shorthand (I stole that HC from a friend). No one else can ever read Skeptic's notes, and that's not even a joke-

That's all in addition to some occasional reading (especially mystery novels).

Smitten: Just like Paranoid is the resident medic, Smitten is the resident cook! And baker! And he is *very* good at what he does. He knows by heart everyone's favorite meals and desserts; he can make pretty much any dish if ingredients are available, and he can make a feast out of just potatoes (exaggerating, but not by much).

Yeah, the voices would all starve without Smitten /j

Opportunist: Oppy is a bit basic in terms of HCs and primarily enjoys some good card games. Even when he is not cheating, he is actually quite good at most of them, but of course, Opportunist knows very well how to sneak an ace or two if needed. I also he would he a sort-of-collector (another HC stolen from a friend), specifically collecting small shiny objects like coins and jewelry.

Hunted: When he knows it is safe to be outdoors, Hunted just loves to spend time in nature. If not for his skittish nature, he would've loved anything camping. But as is, he enjoys bird watching and maybe photography. Please don't ask why photography, I've warned you that some of these are weird.

Cheated: Gamer Cheated is an inevitable HC for me: card games, board games, video games, anything, Cheated loves it all. Unfortunately, he is Cheated, and he very, very often loses. It is typical for him to play a game, lose badly multiple times, get pissed off at it, and swear to never play that game again. But then he plays it again two days later. For a more random HC, I feel like he would like either model kits or soldering.

Contrarian: He is definitely an artist, maybe a sculptor, and is actually, surprisingly, a really good artist. But only when he wants to be. And he pretty much never does, so he uses all his skill on intentionally terrible shitposts. Once a year or two, he will feel inspired and actually make an absolutely breathtaking masterpiece, before immediately returning to shitposts.

That should be all! These are not entirely set in stone either, it's more of my first instincts + silly memes, but it was still a lot of fun to think about! Thanks for asking!!!

[sugawhaaa]

CLOUD ONE-SHOT

[Exchange]

Warnings/genre:: SMUT, what are we ahh prompt, masturbation, vibrator, reader mentions having an male ex

Pairing:: cloud x fem!bodied!reader

A/N:: I intentionally made this very unexplained so that you can place your own story into this. Are you and Cloud exes? Fwb? Friends? Maybe you both have feelings for each other but won't admit it? I dunnooooo

You moan softly as you feel the vibrations running up your folds and circling around your clit. You toss your head back as your legs begin to twitch toward your body, the pleasure taking control of your body. Just as you felt the layers of pleasure begin to stack up you hear a rather loud knock on your door before it opened to cloud. He had that same blank expression before realizing your situation. He blushes slightly but his expression doesn't change a whole lot...surprisingly.

"Sorry," he quickly turns to leave but you quickly stop him.

"Wait!" You lean forward and he turns to look at you. He could hear the desperation in your voice and he sighs softly. "Could you..." You look up at him but he doesn't look very convinced at all. "Help me?"

"Why?" He responds fast, his eyes avoiding your nude body with ease, he'd rather look at your face when you talk to him.

"Because it..." you huff in frustration. "Just please. You don't even have to touch me directly if that's too gross for you, use a toy on me or something," you explain and you can see the conflict in his eyes. He definitely has an argument going on in his head. He pauses for a long moment in the doorway. "You don't have to but...I'd really like it if you'd do this for me, just once," you plead softly. "Lately I haven't been able to...get the same amount of pleasure. Ever since I broke up with, you know, him, I can't feel the same. I feel...lonely?" You try to sort through your feelings. "It's like I need someone there to help me emotionally and physically," you explain as you sway your feet slightly.

"Fine," Cloud huffs and closes the door over. "What do you need me to do?" He puts his hands on his hips after taking off his sword.

"First take off your boots and then sit beside me," you pat the empty spot beside you. Cloud takes another deep breath before kicking off his worn boots and gently sitting next to you. "You should take the gloves off too, they may be dirty," you point to his hands and he sighs again before taking them off and setting them aside.

"I guess you're right," he neatly puts his gloves on your nightstand before turning back to you. "And now?" He tilts his head at you, almost looking like a lost puppy. You grab your vibrator and set it in his bare hand.

"I'm sure you know what that is," you smile and he blushes slightly.

"Yes," he looks at it carefully, reading the controls and buttons on it. "You just want me to use it on you?" He shrugs and you nod. Cloud nods his head before gently parting your legs. His forceful motion caught you by surprise; you expected him to be a little more confused and need a step-by-step guide on how to even start.

He then turns the vibrator on to level two before bringing it down to your exposed core. You bite your lip in anticipation as he brings the tip of the vibrator to your clit. You hold back a moan but quickly release it. You toss your head back against one of the propped-up pillows and Cloud watches intently, your mouth hung open in a perfect 0 shape.

Cloud tilts his head as he watches your expressions, it was a little hard to tell if you were in pleasure or pain, your brows furrowing before curling up and your eyes flutter closed and occasionally squint. "Is that good?" He asks to be sure, though he didn't sound very convincing. You knew Cloud well after all these years and you could tell he really did care if he was doing good.

"Yeah," you breathe out with a little smirk. "You can press a little harder," you look over at him, your face flushed.

"Kay," he presses the vibrator harder against your clit. Your legs jerk up as you gasp from the drastic change in intensity. His eyes follow quickly at your reactions; he then turns the vibrator up a notch and watches as your back arches.

"Oh fuck," you groan and Clouds eyes follow your body's motions. You squirm slightly and you feel Clouds cold hand against your back. He gently lifts you up to sit up against the bed again.

"You were sliding down the bed," he explains, clearly shy but trying to hide it. "Is it good if I move it like this?" He rubs the vibrator back and forth on your clit and you let out a high-pitched whine that catches his attention.

"Yeah," you smile softly before feeling the vibrations increase again.

"Okay enough questions, just...sit still," that was clouds way of saying he wants to make you cum now. He gently turns the vibrator up all the way and watches the way you contort in pleasure. He uses a little circular motion with the wand against your clit, a hint of a smirk playing across his lips. You abruptly grab onto his muscular bicep, your nails digging in.

"C-Cloud," you moan as you toss your head back, your lips parted beautifully once again. He soaks up the view as you reach your peak, the way your body acts on its own, the way your chest heaves with each stuttering breath, the way your legs shake softly. He wanted to watch you like this for hours...however the orgasm was short lived and you soon returned to your regular self, only out of breath now.

Cloud gently turns off the vibrator and sets it aside, but as he pulls it from your folds he noticed the strings of arousal that stick to it. He feels his face heat up but he tries to focus on you. "Can you hand me that glass of water," you point to the nightstand and he reaches out passed his gloves to grab the glass. He hands it to you and watches as you chug it.

"So...you satisfied?" He clears his throat slightly and you nod.

"Yup, unless...?" You tilt your head and he looks away quickly.

"I-I don't know...I'm fine," he goes to get up but something holds him back, not you, but something inside him. Maybe that image of you replaying in his head.

"Are you sure? You seem a little..." you glance down at the bulge in his pants and he groans. He felt torn. Indulge or walk away? "You don't have to but I'm offering to help you. Think of it as an...exchange~"

[your-local-grinning-cat]

Well, maybe they don’t want you to touch them then.

*shrugs*

And that’s not really a fair question, Tazzy! People see things that aren’t really there all the time, no matter where they are!

Or they also see things that are there, but then they can’t find when they look for them, but it haunts them.

Or they see things they wish they didn’t see, so they try to forget about them, but they can’t.

Plenty of options! And certainly not specific to my Wood! 😸

Hey, kitty? Do people normally see things that aren't there, even after leaving the Tulgey Woods?

-@theghostofnightravencollege

*tilts head curiously*

What makes you think the things in my Wood aren’t real, Tazzy?

[spiritcc]

at this point I don't even know if tag fragmentation in the general russian holmes space is worth addressing. a few years ago I successfully kept the ancient customs intact because I wrote a post so deranged and pretentious it displeased people into doing what I wanted but nowadays what's the point in making a grand return of being terminally online if yall kinda right

[kathybluecaller]

when I give up on fully drawing Strive so my boy despawns for a solid 6 frames

(don’t mind the animation rant in the tags that I may continue on a later date)

[designernishiki]

just a thought but like. if akiyama, who’s established as being a bizarrely talented investigator in y5, suspected kiryu’s death to have been faked (or at least “fishy” in his own words) basically on the fucking Spot, i feel like it just makes sense that majima would’ve been just as quick, if not quicker to see where shit wasn’t adding up and become skeptical that the whole thing was a coverup. reason being, in y5 he put shit together and figured out the grand scheme going on so damn early most people didn’t even suspect yet that there was any scheme going on. he then faked his own death well enough to get it in the papers and had masterminded himself all the way to the final boss (with some help of course) before things backfired on him. so he’s got some crazy good skills when it comes to reading people, figuring out their intentions, putting puzzle pieces together, etc– way better than he wants people knowing, generally– and he knows the hallmark signs of a faked death because he’s literally done it before. all that on top of knowing kiryu like the back of his hand and knowing damn well how hard this man is to kill, and how prone to running away from shit for the sake of the safety of people he cares about (for better or for worse) he is. he could absolutely put together that, if given the opportunity by some faction or powerful individual, kiryu would sacrifice his identity and status as a legit living person for the assured safety of others, or for yakuza tensions to diminish, or maybe even as an act of self-flagellation.

tldr: I think the reasons majima didn’t go rogue/apeshit after kiryu’s alleged death are that A) for once he has saejima around to reign him in and make it feel less like Everything has been lost, B) I think he’s legitimately known pretty much all along that kiryu didn’t die that day; nor would he believe it unless he saw it with his own eye.

[smilesrobotlover]

If you were going to rate the dads on 'how likely are they to complain about eating their vegetables' how would you rate them?

I don’t think any of them would really complain about eating their vegetables tbh. They just eat whatever’s given to them. I say Linebeck May struggle the most cuz he doesn’t eat a lot of veggies. Mostly fruit and fish 🤷‍♀️ but idk, some veggies are darn good so I doubt they complain much about it

[fingertipsmp3]

I wonder what it’s like to be able to kick a habit quickly and easily. I had to do four different things in order to stop biting my nails and I still occasionally fuck up (only when I break a nail but still)