#Buy Online white honey

[lokischocolatefountain]

Honey, I'm Home || For The Right Man

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Trad Wife!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings:  dom!Joel, sub!reader, rich!reader, master/slave dynamics, name calling (slut, cunt, whore, fucktoy, bitch-- it can't get worse folks), use of honorifics for Joel (Sir, Daddy, Master-- a hattrick!) Joel keeps reader in check, domesticity kink, mention of exhibitionism, boot humping, boot worship, collar and leash, chastity belt, mention of anal, use of buttplug, objectification, dehumanization, crawling, facefucking, kicking, cockwarming. (I think I got everything but lmk if I missed stuff) Word count: 4.8k Summary: Joel comes home to freshly baked dessert and a good little wife eager to serve in every way possible A/N: Look, don't be a trad wife irl. It's nothing like this. It's dangerous and will tire you out in the worst way possible. Remember this kind of Joel Miller is tragically not real. Heed the warnings.

You swiped a finger on the inside of the glass bowl, free to lick up the leftover brownie batter now that it was baking in the oven. You looked over at the clock, disappointed to see that it hadn’t moved even a little since the last time you looked.

You were still getting used to it, being home all the time. Being a housewife wasn’t something you thought you’d ever do. You hit the ground running after graduation, climbing the corporate ladder and making more money than you knew what to do with. After reaching the top and buying everything you could ever dream of and more, life got quite boring. Nothing brought joy or satisfaction anymore. Many a therapist and mental breakdowns later, you decided that you were done. Unable to bear the boredom of your career, quit your job and moved to one of your properties in Texas. 

That was when Joel Miller walked into your life. Or rather you called him into your life after seeing his number on a pamphlet. Miller Constructions. Tall, gruff, muscular as hell and all southern gentlemanly, he had your attention from the very first day. Miller Constructions was only a local business that he ran with his little brother. But he had good reviews online and your own neighbor’s kitchen renovation was a testimony to Miller Construction’s quality work.

With no job or entertainment, you’d set your eyes on the handsome contractor. As he stripped his shirt, arm muscles bulging in his white vest, you sat on your couch with a book open and watched to your heart’s content. But if anyone asked you the names of the characters in the book, you would draw a blank.

One thing led to another and a few years later you were in the bedroom of the house he renovated for you, wearing his ring and getting ready in front of the dressing table he built you from scratch. You stood bare in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but the steel collar with his name engraved and matching chastity belt he kept you locked in when he was away. It was a reminder of the kind of life you’d built together, of the role you’d readily accepted in your home.

You went through your extensive lingerie collection, all chosen to surprise him and make you feel beautiful. You took a sip from your glass of wine and set it down carefully on the dressing table before reaching for something you hadn’t worn in a little while. A bright red set that drove him fucking insane when you first wore it. It was from last year’s Valentine’s Day and you’d taken him to a restaurant, private booking with just you and Joel dining there for the night. It was expensive as hell but you had cash to throw away and it was worth it for his reaction. 

Once dinner had been served and the waitstaff left, you took your coat off to reveal that you’d been practically naked underneath. The lingerie set was a corset top, strapless with your tits almost falling out and the back open in a heart shape. The corset boning was covered in bright red silk, standing out against the soft sheer lace around it. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks when memories of the night flooded your mind. It hadn’t taken him long to forget the fancy food, bend you over the table and have his fill of your cunt. When he got close, he put you on your knees and came on your face, marking you as his. For the rest of dinner, you wore him on your face, eating all the courses of the meal and talking to him casually about everything under the sun like it was normal. 

A second wear of the lingerie set could only lead to another amazing night of debauchery. You grabbed the matching lace panties and slipped it on over your belt, the pair a skimpy one with too little fabric to cover up the essentials. You put the corset on next, struggling just a little to lace it up all by yourself but managing nevertheless. A pair of sheer black stockings, red lips, red bottomed Louboutins and your look was complete. 

He didn’t care much about makeup. The man couldn’t even tell you were wearing seven different products on your face the first few times. But he always noticed a red lip. Always liked having the visual of bright painted lips stretch around his impressive girth. 

Your stilettos clicked against the hardwood floor as you turned in front of the mirror, checking your appearance from every angle to make sure you looked your best. You could greet him in your old university tee and a pair of shorts with your hair up in a bun and he’d still gather you in his arms and kiss you senseless when he came home. 

But you liked going the extra mile for him every now and then. Be something soft, pretty and pliant to come home to after long days of hard labor under the sun and idiot subcontractors who got on his nerves.

Just as you’d sliced the brownies and left them on a wire rack to cool, you heard his truck pull up into the driveway. You sprinted to the door as fast as you could in your impractical shoes and took your position at the door. A wide smile plastered on your lips and your thighs rubbing against each other in a pavlovian response to his arrival. 

Joel’s eyes brightened when you opened the door and he laid his eyes on you. “Goddamn, honey… Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” he said, wasting no time in wrapping a muscular arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss. You relaxed in his embrace, moaning softly when he caressed your bottom in his large hand. He threaded his fingers through your hair, keeping you flush against his chest as he tasted you. You heard him kick the door close, chills running through you as you realized you’d been on display to the entire neighborhood all this while. 

You were the first to pull away, breathless from his kiss. Yet you stayed close, his nose brushing against yours and his warm breath kissing your cheek. You sighed, taking in his heady scent of sweat, his cologne, and wood shavings. The thing that screamed Man, Man, Man. The thing that had you begging to suck his cock every evening when he was only your contractor.

He hung his truck keys on the hook by the door and picked up the leather leash that hung from the hook right next to it. He hooked the metal end of it to the ring on your collar and tugged you forward, making you giggle as you crashed into his chest. 

You unbuttoned the first button of his flannel and licked your lips when you saw his chest, tan and marked by little brown spots from the treacherous sun that couldn’t help but kiss him. You staked your claim with a kiss on his chest and licked your lips, the salty taste of his skin enticing you even more. No matter how many times you had him, you felt the same excitement that you did the first time you submitted to him. That Friday night when he stayed longer than usual to finish retiling your bathroom so it’d be ready for the party you were throwing the week after.

“I missed you so much, baby,” you confessed, looking up at him from his chest. He was handsome as hell with his soft curls, beautiful brown eyes, kissable lips, and patchy beard. Before him, you had a preference for men with full beards. But you liked Joel’s better now. Especially the little heart shaped patch where hair refused to grow. 

“Missed you too, darlin’. Get on your knees now,” he said, tugging you down by your leash. You sunk down to your knees and looked up at him, heart swelling with joy at the view you had of him. He was handsome from every angle, but fuck he looked powerful towering over you like a God. 

“House smells real good. You bake for me again?” He asked, petting your head just as gently as the tone of his voice.

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you wrapped your arms around his leg and pressed your cheek to his knee. It was all the satisfaction you never got at the job you quit. 

“Sweet little wife, working so hard for me huh?” 

“Mhmm. Heated up the leftovers from last night but I wanted to make something new too. Knew you’d need something nice to come home to, Daddy.” He never demanded anything of you despite the absolute power you handed him. He ate what you gave, whether it was good or not, whether you cooked or ordered take out. It only deepened your need to serve him. 

As you already had leftovers for dinner, you decided to bake instead. A good thing that came out of the expensive baking classes you took. You liked sending the remaining dessert with him to work where he proudly distributed them. 

He’d never tell you, but you knew he got off on it. His staff knew you, the boss’ sweet wife who cooked the most delicious things. You played it up when they were around— when they came by for signatures, when you visited his worksites with his lunch. You giggled more for him, touched his arms and smiled adoringly. You dressed provocatively- low cut tops that showed your cleavage, tight jeans that hugged your ass, skirts that were too short ro bend in. 

“Come home to you everyday, don’t I? My everythin’ nice.” 

“Shut up,” you muttered, a shy smile fighting to surface despite your best efforts. 

“That how you speak to your husband?” He asked, leading you to the dinner table you’d arranged with plates, cutlery, artfully folded napkins, and the flowers from him. You crawled beside him, enjoying the discomfort in your permanently bruised knees. He took a seat and you knelt next to him, pussy already slick as he tethered the leash to the table he made to accommodate it. 

“I don’t know, Joel. Maybe you should do something about it if you don’t like it. Can’t just leave your wife at home and expect nothing to change. You need to maintain her.” 

“Maintenance, huh?” He snorted, tugging you close by your collar and kissing you. He held you in place with a firm hand right underneath your collar, his grip on your throat reinforcing his ownership over you. 

“Turn around, let me see what’s mine,” he said, patting your cheek twice. You obeyed, turning around on your knees and bending over to have your face down and ass up. 

He pushed your panties aside and you rolled your ass in the air so the jewel lodged in your hole glinted bright. He gripped it, coaxing it out gently before pushing it right back in. You whimpered, pressing your cheek to the floor and looking back at him as he played with you. He thrust the plug in and out, his devilish eyes giving away just how much he enjoyed debauching you. He liked the contradictions in you. The good little wife who stayed home and cooked and cleaned. But also his filthy little whore that stretched her ass to take his cock. 

“Kept it in all day, baby?” he asked, pressing on the plug.

“Yeah, Daddy…” you said, looking away at the grains on the wood flooring as you smiled. 

“Good girl,” he said, patting your ass once again before letting your panties snap back in place. Your smile widened, proud that you’d done a good job.

You’d never taken a man in your ass. Not that none had asked before Joel. Some even tried to force themselves in, pretending it was accidental when you yelled at them. The thought of a cock there, where it wasn’t meant to be, where it would be at least a bit painful… It scared you. Your boyfriends and one night stands had no incentive to be good to you. But it was different with Joel. He was your Master and you trusted he wouldn’t do anything to damage his property. 

You were his in every way but you needed him to take more. To have a part of your body that wasn’t meant for fucking trained to take his cock… For every inch of your body to be transformed into a plaything for him. It was the utter, complete submission you craved. 

“So proud of you,” he said, turning you around to face him. He bent down, staying close so you could feel his warm breath as he spoke to you. He kissed behind your ear where he knew you to be sensitive, making you shudder in response. 

“Need to stretch it out good so when I take your ass one day, I won’t split ya’ open.” 

You whimpered, cunt clenching as his words morphed into images in your mind’s eye. 

He served himself dinner, heaping enough on his plate for the both of you. The gentleman that he was, he fed you first. You were his bitch at his feet, being fed and pet, but you were still a typical husband and wife sharing stories of each other’s day. 

You asked him about his day and he vented about some idiot using the wrong setting and overheating a drill bit so much it snapped. He asked about your book club and complimented the meal even though he’d already praised you for it last night.

He rinsed the dishes and set them in the racks to dry while you went upstairs to fetch his fresh boots. The nice soft ones he never wore outside and sanitized thoroughly after each use. You placed them by the coffee table, your eyes connecting with his as you did. He smiled and returned to the dishes, a knowing look in his eyes. 

You headed to the mini bar to prepare drinks. Joel’s drink never needed preparation- just a whiskey, neat. But you liked something fun every night courtesy of your newfound interest in mixology. 

⌘⌘⌘

Joel reached into his shirt and pulled out his chain. It was one of your first presents to him. It was gold and had him stuttering his words when he got it. 

He was not used to having a rich girlfriend. He’d always dated within his economic group. No surprise since not a lot of rich women liked contractors without a higher education. And as a traditional southern man, he liked to be the one to buy gifts for his woman. Liked to provide, to take care of his people. It took time to adjust to having a woman who liked just as much to buy him stuff and take care of him with meals and massages. One who took spontaneous trips to his worksites just to give him a bottle of homemade lemonade when he most needed it. 

Care was a one way street for him. But with you, he learned to accept some care for himself. It began with you cooking meals for him when he renovated your home. It wasn’t the most delicious. You had no experience cooking back then, but he was completely taken by the care you showed him. Just a man she hired. You had too many rooms in your fancy mansion to do shit like that. 

Quickly it had become routine. You spoke to each other about your lives. He told you about starting work straight outta high school after his parents’ death and he learned why you’d moved to Austin. The more days he spent renovating your house the less it felt like work. Especially since that one night you got on your knees and let him know that you would be happy to relieve his stress.

Ladies usually played it coy, or at least that was his experience. But you were unabashed. Bold. You didn’t drop hints and play games. You dropped to you fucking knees and offered him your mouth to fuck. It surprised him how attracted he was to your assertiveness. 

Like the other things he accepted from you, he accepted the gold. You liked how it dangled from his neck as he plowed into you. He liked that it was a counterpart to the collar he put around your neck. 

It now held the key to your chastity belt. He pulled your panties off, plucked the key from his chain and unlocked you. Most mornings, he locked you into your belt before kissing you goodbye at the door. In the evenings, he opened you like the best fucking Christmas present. 

He wasn’t too strict with it, finding integrity and trust a more powerful tool than fear. You knew there was a spare set of keys to the belt and collar in a drawer if you needed them. You trusted him enough to lock and collar you without disrespecting you and he trusted you to not remove it without good reason. He trusted you to not lie and you trusted that he would handle your actions with kindness.

He slipped the heavy steel belt off and placed it by his side on the rug. Knelt behind you, he bent down and kissed your pussy lips, already wet and needy though he hadn’t done anything but wiggle your plug a little. He made out with it just as he would your painted pair of lips, his tongue parting your folds to enter you, tasting your arousal. 

“Remindin’ me why I call ya honey…” he whispered into your sensitive skin, making you tremble against his lips. 

“Why you gotta bake me sweet treats when you got me my favorite between your legs?” He asked, wrapping his lips around your nub before you could answer him with snark. You buried your head in a couch cushion, muffling your sounds. But in the quiet of the living room, Joel could hear the pretty little whimpers you made for him. 

He groaned, his neck hurting from the awkwardness of the angle. He got back up from under you and slapped your ass thrice in quick succession. “Up. Put your panties on and change my boots.” 

He sat back comfortably on the couch and enjoyed the view of you as you got to work. 

Work boots off, you laced up the house boots and dropped your face to the ground, your ass pushing up. You pressed your lips to one boot and then the next. Then you licked it from the tip up, looking up at him for approval as you traveled up. He looked nothing less than absolutely pleased, his fingertips brushing his jawline and his smile soft at the sight of your devotion. 

He tipped your chin up with his boot and caressed your cheek with it. “My little slut loves my boots, huh?” 

You nodded and nuzzled into it, grateful for his attention. The warmth of his smile morphed into arrogance. From your loving husband to the man who knew he controlled your every breath and was ready to take advantage of it. 

“On your ass, slut. Spread those legs and show me your cunt.” 

You sat back, the coffee table supporting you as you spread your legs wide. When you moved the wet gusset of your panties aside, his eyes zeroed in and he tongue swept over his lips. You felt your cunt drip into the carpet, the shame of being so aroused by worshiping his boots only making the situation worse. 

He slid his boot between your legs and pressed it against your hole. “Tell me. Why do I need to keep you locked?” 

“Because I’m a slut,” you admitted, beginning to rub against it. You knew you were a lot to handle. You lived a life of restrain and shame before you found Joel. Joel freed you to chase your desires and allowed you to devolve into a slut. Since then you thought of nothing but filling your holes. He had you addicted to his cock and whining for it like a wild animal. If you didn’t have Joel to take full command of your body, you knew you would do nothing but rub your cunt raw.

“Yeah that’s right,” he said, leaning close. “But you are my slut. I know you won’t go around letting other men use your holes. So why do I keep you locked?” 

“B-because I’m so wet I can’t think, Daddy.” 

“Mhmm. That’s right. Now why does Daddy need you thinking?” He said, cupping your cheek in his callused hands. 

“C-cause I need to keep the home. I need to cook and clean.” 

He shook his head. “Don’t need your brain working to do that, baby. What d’ya need to think for?” 

“My projects. I need to think for my projects.” 

“Exactly. Good girl. You need to finish the portrait for your art class next week, don’tcha?” 

You simply nodded, happy that he kept track of your tasks. Sometimes you forgot. You got lazy and procrastinated, turned your hobbies into a source of stress. But Master guided you and held you accountable. 

“And you love your furniture so much. Your Persian rug, your designer sofas, the hardwood floor I laid down. What’ll happen if I don’t keep this hole locked?” He asked, tipping his chin up. 

Your mind began its descent into the void of lust as the sensations between your legs eclipsed all else. Yet you managed a response. “I’ll r-ruin it.”

“Mhmm. Can’t have you ruining our home. I know how much care you put into it,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How well you take care of it everyday,” he said with a kiss on your cheek. “It’ll all be ruined if you leave a trail of slick behind you when you’re on your knees cleaning the front.” 

You nodded frantically, words slipping beyond your abilities. 

“Now tell me why I need separate house boots.” 

You opened and closed your mouth, but nothing got to you past the cruelty of his boot and your slick panties on your clit. His had slipped from your face down to grab your neck and you gasped. 

“Answer me, girl. Why do I need these boots?”

“B-because of me.” 

“Mmm. Why?”

“Bec-because I’m a shameless bitch,” you croaked out as his hand constricted around you. “I need to fuck m’self on Master’s boots,” 

“That’s right,” he said, allowing you some air. “I can’t go out with my work boots smelling like pussy. Can’t let my men take a whiff of my slut now, can I?” he taunted, giving a light kick to your pussy. You gasped, the kick electrifying your every nerve. 

“You want more?” He asked, head tilted and a mocking smile playing at his plush lips. 

You nodded frantically, your cunt thrusting into the air as you sputtered, “Yes Sir, yes please.” 

“Shameless whore, asking to be kicked in the cunt,” he snorted before he kicked you again. You shrieked and closed your legs shut, pain and pleasure alike traveling from your core to every part of your body. When your brain recovered from the shock, you opened your legs again. 

You reached between your legs and rubbed yourself, intending to soothe but distracted by the waves of pleasure from the contact. 

“Fucking slut,” he said, slapping your hand away and replacing it with his own. He alternated between slaps and rubs of your cunt. The sting of pain morphed into jolts of pleasure until the two became so indistinguishable from the other that you didn’t know what you were craving. You took what he gave, your body grateful to accept anything that came of his touch. 

The hand on your neck squeezed and let go at unpredictable intervals. Every constriction of airflow was a reminder that you were just a toy at his whim. He decided if you came, he decided which hole he’d use, he decided if you’d take your next breath. 

“Look how you’re dripping all over my hand,” he said, his hand glistening with your shame as he brought it up to you. He smeared it over your face, a sob escaping your throat as you smelled your desperation. 

You inched closer to him on your knees and rested your cunt at the tip of his boot and humped. Up, down, up, down. There was no bliss like it. 

“Like a fucking bitch in heat,” he muttered, laughing to himself when you whined. “Imagine if your former subordinates could see ya now. Wouldn’t even recognize their ballbusting boss. Maybe we should have ‘em over.” 

You shook your head in denial, but your cunt was more truthful, clenching harder at the thought of having an audience to your subjugation. 

“No?” He mocked as he worked on your corset top. The hairs on your body stood up as the air cooled your sweating torso. Your breasts bounced free, jiggling as you fucked yourself on his boot. 

He took one in his hand, fondling it before letting go with a slap. You yelped, inching closer and trapping the bootlaces under you. He took turns with them, squeezing, slapping and pinching. 

“Please!” You cried, not comprehending why you were begging. 

“I know, baby. I know…” he said, the softness of his voice contradicting the cruelty of his fingers that tugged at your nipples. 

“Need t— Hnngg!” 

“I got you. Give into it, Cunt. Just be the fuckhole you were made to be.” 

A wild sound escaped your lips and you fell back. He caught you, holding you up against the coffee table. 

Your cunt still rutted, autonomous and in control of you. Just a cunt, just Master’s fuckhole. With that reassurance, the world disappeared and you found euphoria that you could never experience without him. 

All the tension in your muscles evaporated to join the anxieties he fucked out of you, leaving behind you a carefree fucktoy. 

Brains all fucked out, you could do nothing but comply as he rearranged you on your knees. Light illuminated his face and sounds of a cheering crowd and a fast talking man echoed in your empty head. 

He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth to open. A cold glass pressed against your lips and you lapped up the drink, grateful for something to quench your thirst. He pinched your nose, laughing as your hole gasped wide open for air. 

He lined his cock up with your hole and thrust in, your lips stretching tight to accommodate him. He allowed you air once again and you moaned around him, grateful for his benevolence. Though your hole was accustomed to him, the walls trembled. But you persevered, needing to show Master you were grateful for letting you breathe. You took him inch by inch, stopping only when your head was on his lap and your nose pressed against his balls. 

You breathed in his scent, masculine and overpowering. Tongue darted out every now and then to lick his balls. Cunt pulsated in the joy of submission when he moaned and whimpered. Every now and then he fucked your face up and down his cock and gave you air but mostly let you be.

Time had passed but you didn’t know how much. No world existed beyond him, no purpose other than warming his cock in your hole. Eventually, he stood up and held your head in both hands, thrusting in and out with no regard for you. Pathetic sounds escaped your burning throat and your lips lost its bright red color as your lipstick ran with your drool. Mascara and eyeliner ran down the sides of your face with your tears, turning gray when he released his spend on your face.

Face covered in his release, you crumbled at his feet, your arms going around his legs. You couldn’t bear to be alone in this state. His hand came down, caressing your sweat soaked hair as he whispered comforts.

“Did so well for me, Darling. So fucking perfect…”

“I love you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through foggy vision. 

“I love you. More than I can show. Let me take care of you now. Bath and then bed, alright?”

You nodded, cheek pressed against his knee and loath to let go of his legs. He didn’t hurry you,but allowed you stay where you were until you decided to get up. There were chores to be done, you were sure but you knew he would take care of it. It was a worry you no longer had. All that mattered was that you served him well. No stock prices and market conditions. No early mornings and hours stuck in traffic jams. 

Nothing to do but please Master, nothing to be but holes and tits. You were free. 

⌘

Masterlist

[drdemonprince]

So that was the DNC. The young liberals, white feminists, and leftists-in-name only have gladly fallen in line behind Kamala Harris, because she makes them feel good, and because all they have wanted was to find sufficient reason to stop feeling bad and get back to brunch. They've abandoned Palestine, the same way they abandoned the immunocompromised and abolition of the police, because these and so many other left political movements were little more than fashion to them. They were never interested in seeing the destruction of a political system that many of them could, theoretically, make themselves comfortable inside. They just wanted to be seen as current and good.

Did you know that there are 24 million millionaires in the United States? 24 Million. Millionaires. 24,000,000 millionaires. Up from 22 million in 2022. That's about 7.2% of the population. So much for "we are the 99%." There is a sizeable segment of this population that benefits from economic inequality and imperialism, increasingly so, as both the size of the lower class and the upper class expand.

Many millions of additional people have no interest in changing the U.S. political paradigm, because they have been propagandized to believe all compassion and competence fall away under "anarchy," or because they lack community in any meaningful sense and have no conception of how to act collectively. This is not their fault, but it means they act in ways counter to leftist organizing: calling the cops on people, refusing to show up for others, hoarding what property and wealth they do have, demanding that all acts of resistance be peaceful and brief, and pouring all of the political energies into exhorting others to vote (no matter how dyed blue or gerrymander red their districts are, no matter how genocidal, transphobic, and xenophobic all the options might be).

People think that participating in community is buying a $355 Chappel Roan ticket. The big voices for leftist organizing, supposedly, are individuals who market themselves as such on Instagram and TikTok in order to sell books, tarot decks, subscriptions, and workshops.

The sole method for social or political engagement that most people know of is making posts online, on an overblown advertising platform, and then complaining that they did not receive enough attention on their (monetized) posts. A person with shrewd social media instincts and a strong writerly voice can fake an entire political identity, professional connections, and expertise, and be followed by tens of thousands while doing nothing constructive in their day to day life or even being the person they claim to be. The more actively they post and generate revenue for Meta, the more lucrative their grift becomes for themselves and the more social power they accrue. Chasing power and profit for oneself is definitionally counter to leftist ideals. Even if they do not believe in electoralism, people like this produce endless content about the subject, because people follow it like it's sports. They're glorified entertainers, selling politically themed content, never taking themselves off the stage.

Challenge any of this and people will lash out at you, because you've attacked their cloth mother, and they're very lonely and afraid. The corporately-moderated semblance of connection is nearly all they ever get. You can't talk about sex, drugs, death, or any difficult human realities. If you don't present a disneyfied version of yourself you get accused or being a degenerate predator. If you don't participate at all, you must be apathetic, which is very bad, because having the wrong emotions or thoughts makes you evil.

The protests at the DNC were all either ill-conceived PSL honey traps leading dozens of 19-year-olds into arrest via Signal chat, or bloated 3-hour fundraising attempts miles away from the United Center and corralled by the police and Department of Justice marshalls and their collaborators. Everybody else is far away, enjoying brat colored cocktails and picking out demure tradwife clothing to disappear into for the fall. Dreaming of not having to worry anymore is akin to longing for death, and many liberal Americans have gladly embraced total obliteration.

It's not just conservatism that is a death cult. It's also the preservation of the nation-state. State-making obliterates whole cultures, languages, lands, traditions, and unique, person-to-person modes of relating. You get your food from a corporation or a government bureaucracy that does not know you and makes you fight for it, never from a person. This makes you forget that it's just persons, like the ones you know, like yourself, who do everything. It makes you cling to the state, and to normalcy, rather than speaking openly and messily to anybody else.

This is where it all begins and ends. The hope of a revolution rising up to somehow liberate Palestine was always a fantasy, the stuff of kid's movies. The truth is much darker, but more bearable, because it's real. We are very far from a dramatic political change. Most people aren't willing to even let a stranger into their homes to keep them sheltered. Did we really think they were going to rise up and put their body on the line to fight the state? Give up Starbucks and their PPO? Break the law? Lower their property value? Of course not. Get real.

And so, where do we start? By moving far, far away from the individualistic, capitalistic, clout-based avenues of political "participation" that do nothing but benefit people who present themselves as influential voices. By doing the small, slow, humble work of actual community building. Talking to your neighbors, feeding people, housing people, sacrificing something for others, driving a senior to the doctor, building a way outside of your own head.

We have to become more reliant upon one another and less moved by big personalities who will never know us or give a damn about us as people. Instagram pays me the more of you look at my posts and share them on their app. It pays every other high follower account you take political guidance from, too. You should be suspicious of me. And all the rest of them. You should place more trust in your friends, your neighbors, and the power of your own mind.

The way out of all this will not be easy. And it will not happen on here.

[lawrites]

2022!Oswald Cobblepot x Female Plus Size Reader

(NSFW) Oswald Cobblepot asks you to drive with him, bringing you to the local makeout point. You both discuss insecurities, past high school experiences, and your love for each other (while getting into the mood of the area, of course).

CW: body insecurity, some talks of high school, and semi-public sex (not really because Oz bought out the place 😭), dry humping, praise

Thank you for exchanging fics with me @finniestoncrane!!! I was so honored to write this for you. Hope you enjoy. 💙💙

Oswald had a specific request for you, tonight.

“Sweetheart, wanna take you somewhere nice. Can you put on that pretty, short skirt for me? You know the one.”

You do know the one. You had found it online, somewhere, at one of his favorite high end sites. A flared tennis skirt that boasted it was for bigger bodies like yours, longer in the back and accommodating for wider hips. You had tried it on when it first arrived, in front of Ozzie as usual, and his eyes darkened instantly when he saw the way it highlighted your wider hips, the waistband digging into your plush middle and making a bit of flesh round out over the top. He had gotten up, reaching for your waist instantly and tracing the softness there.

“Angel…that one's a keeper. Want me to get you more? In different colors?”

“Thank you, Ozzie.” He looked elated, as he always did when you thanked him, “But I don't think that's necessar-”

He had put one hand in his pocket to reach for his phone while you were talking, and was now holding up a hand to interrupt you. “I'm already buying you more. You deserve only the best.”

Giving you a winning smile after a minute of tapping around on his phone, his attention returned to you, he continued, “And believe me, honey, this is absolutely more of a present for me.”

So now you find yourself rushing around, trying to pull together a cohesive outfit from your admittedly massive closet. The man spoiled you, but after spending most of your life without access to anything pretty at your size…you are secretly ecstatic to have such a selection at your fingertips. The only issue is that, after years of not having access to the best clothes, trying to put together an outfit that isn't just jeans and a tee is difficult.

Eventually, you land on the skirt in a pale blue color, a simple white tank top, a soft blue cropped cardigan, and some sneakers and thigh highs. Deciding to be a little bit extra, you put your hair up into some cute space buns, wrap them in a white ribbon, and grab a minimal amount of makeup.

Making a peace sign at yourself in the mirror, you take in your smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's not necessarily that you are unexcited for this date…you're just nervous. Even now, after more than a year of being with Oz…living with him, even, you worry that you just aren't what he truly wants.

He's proven time and time again that you are, but unfortunately years of insecurity over being fat don't just go away thanks to sweet compliments and proof of attraction…but they do help. You hold your hands at your sides as you walk to the grand staircase, but can't keep them from fiddling with the edge of your skirt when you see him.

He's dressed admittedly casually for him. Dark, high quality jeans that are imported from Italy, a nice, designer cotton shirt, and a vintage leather jacket. You haven't seen him like this before, and he looks good. His chest hair peeks out from the v of the shirt, his patent leather shoes are shined, and everything is tailored perfectly.

Your hands run along and edge of your skirt and you clear your throat, gaining his attention. His eyes instantly turn your way, with a charming smile. The smile drops into an open-mouthed gaze of wonder as he takes you in. “Oh, Angel…” he starts, then stops, then starts walking towards you.

You begin to hurriedly flounce down the stairs, trying to match his own impatient pace. In your haste, you manage to trip on the last step, only to be caught, handily, by Oz. His hands grip yours, and his charming smile is back. “Woah! Where's the rush, beautiful?”

He carefully winds a hand around to the small of your back, gently nudging you towards him until you are pressed right against his front. His other hand moves to cup your chin. “Got someone special you're trying to meet?”

You blush and try to disguise how flustered you are (how flustered he makes you). “I am! Have you seen anyone special around?”

He knits his eyebrows together in an exaggerated expression of contemplation, smirking at your tease and releasing your chin to rub his own. “Hmmm, can't think of one. ‘Cept me, of course.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, “Well, you're certainly handsome enough to be someone important.”

Oz, almost like he can't help himself, surges forward and kisses you. It wasn't fast enough to disguise the way his cheeks turned red at your admission, however. His tongue lightly traces your lips, demanding entry, and you open up. He groans and his hands move to your hips, trying to somehow get you even closer than you already are.

Eventually you both need air, and separate from each other as you catch your breath. Your face shows the astonishment you feel, “Well, that was…unexpected. Good unexpected, though.” You grin at him and he almost sheepishly runs a hand through the hair on the back of his head.

“What can I say, Angel? You drive me crazy. I can't help myself.”

He holds out his hand, and you gladly take it. By the gentle guidance of Oz, you eventually find yourself at the entrance of his garage. The sheepishness is gone, and he looks you up and down with a dark glint in his eyes, “Whaddya say, sweetheart? Up for a late night drive?”

—-------------------------

Oz made you feel cared for, in almost every aspect of your relationship. He was a secret romantic at heart, which was part of the explanation for his behavior…but the other part was his need to show off what he has earned. What is his, and his by hard work and smarts.

And, while saying that you're his may be archaic, you certainly feel like you're his as you're driving through Gotham, his big hand on your bare thigh, tracing the bit of flesh that spills out of your thigh highs. He's casually chatting, of course, telling you about this place or that in Gotham, the history behind it, occasionally making you giggle with his stories. He looks over to you when you do, briefly, his eyes shining.

“Never going to get used to the feeling that I get when I make a pretty girl like you laugh. It's a privilege.”

You are floating, happy, maybe slightly aroused at the feel of his hands on you, when he suddenly releases your thigh as the car stops, moving to put it in park. Trying to take in your surroundings, paying attention to them properly, now, you are instead confused to see just greenery, trees, and darkness surrounding you. You turn to Oz to ask him a question, but he is already getting out of the car and moving to your side, ready to open your door.

You thank him, accepting the hand he offers and trying to see if anything around you was worth the drive. And then, you see the drop off ahead in the ground, rocky, sharp, and guarded by a crumbling fence. Still holding his hand, you look from the drop to Oz. He brings your hand up, kisses it, and then releases it, gesturing for you to investigate.

You rush forward, hearing him yell out, “Be careful, though, Dove! You don't have wings even if you are an Angel.” Pausing well within a safe distance from the edge, you peer down and see the entirety of Gotham spread out before you. The twinkling of the lights, the giant buildings, but without the noise. It's quiet, even if you can just barely see a police car with sirens on, the shrill tone doesn't reach you, here.

“Oh Oz! This is gorgeous! I've never seen Gotham like this! How did you find this place?”

You feel his hands on your shoulders, his soft front pressed against you, “This place isn't a secret. Been aware of it since high school. Would come up here and look at the city and just…think sometimes.” He turns you around so you are facing him, placing a hand under your chin. “Wanted to see your gorgeous face light up like the city when you see it from here.”

Blushing, again, you swat his hand away. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Cobblepot.” He snorts at your teasing tone, and you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “I bet you said that to all the girls when you brought them up here back then.”

His grin falters, and he seems to almost deflate in stature. “W-well I-” he cuts himself off, struggling to form a sentence. “Actually, you're the first.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure, Oz.” He holds out his hands, “No! I'm serious…I…Doll, I wasn't much of a looker in high school.” His arms drop to his sides at his admission.

His face falls, and you see a familiar expression, one that you have on your own face when you talk about high school bullies and your insecurities over your weight. Softening, you move towards him, gently bringing him in for a hug. “Oh. I didn't mean to tease you, Ozzie. I know how that feels.”

He grumbles above you, “Yeah, I know, because I have trouble believing an Angel like you had any trouble in high school, myself.” Maneuvering you so he can look at you at arms length, he whistles, “I mean, with your plump, soft body and those rosy, plush cheeks? I have a hard time believing you even want to be with me now.”

You move forward, out of his grasp, and cross your arms, hugging yourself. “Oh, I don't know about that Ozzie. I was such a nerd in high school, and I still am!” He chuckles, and looks like he's about to argue, but you continue, anyway. “I know if you went to high school with me, though, I would have had the biggest crush on you.”

He looks confused. “Really? No joke?” You shake your head, “Absolutely no joke, cross my heart. You're charming.” You bite your lip purposefully, drawing his eyes which start to darken, “You're so romantic, it makes me swoon sometimes.” Moving closer, you wind your arms around him, one at a time, looking up with big, shining eyes, “And you are exactly my type. I love your strong nose,” you kiss it, “I love your dark, gorgeous eyes,” you get on your tiptoes to flutter your eyelashes against him in a cute move that makes Oz actually giggle.

“I love your body, even if you don't,” you press yourself right against his front, making him let out a grunt, “And I guarantee that if we were in high school together, I would have let you take me up here and show me-”

His arms pull you closer, desperately, and he slams his lips into yours, effectively cutting you off. You let out a surprised sound, but then soften and let him lead. Feeling the effect you have on him, you grind against him, making him release your lips with a groan.

“God, Angel.” He's out of breath, his hands crumpling the fabric of your skirt from where he had dug them into your hips. Releasing them, he smooths it down with his hands slowly, almost worshipfully. “The idea of you, in this outfit, showing little old, ugly me in high school a good time…”

You cut him off, “We probably would have both been considered ugly in high school, then, Oz. Two weirdos together. But look at where we are now, huh?”

You reach down to hold his hand, using it to lead him to the back of the car, where you hop up onto the trunk, slightly ungracefully. Arms spread, you invite him into your embrace and he accepts, sucking in a breath as you spread your plush thighs so they surround him.

Using your arm to bring his head down, he dutifully follows and sniffs at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, moaning and beginning to nibble marks into your skin. With a breathier tone, you whisper into his ear, “King of Gotham, my King of Gotham. So powerful and smart and those idiots in high school didn't know what they were missing.”

With that, he whimpers, and his hands dig into your thighs once more, moving your skirt up and pressing, grasping, digging into the plump flesh available to him there. His hips begin to piston, slowly at first, rubbing against your center and making you choke on air.

Then he releases the spot where he had been worrying your flesh with his teeth, nuzzling his nose up the column of your throat and whispering in your ear, now. “And you're the King of Gotham’s Sweet Dove. You're my gorgeous girl.” You whine, and he starts to move even faster against you, the both of you panting.

“Ozzie! Please!” You stifle your cry as much as you can, unsure what exactly it is that you want, but the heat in your belly is removing your ability to think. You feel your wetness soaking into Oz’s front, and he just groans, “Oh, good girl. So wet for me, yeah? So pretty and plump and all mine.”

You bite your lip, self conscious, still, especially being out in the open like this. “M-messy,” you whimper, unable to voice your worry more fully. He almost coos at you, trying to calm you down and comfort you as his hips continue pressing against you in a steady rhythm, sending sparks through your body. “You think I care about a little mess, sweetheart?”

You're the one who nuzzles your head into his neck, now, unable to hold back the small pleas and whimpers and whines that are all coming from somewhere deep inside of you. Somewhere in the mess of words, you say, “K-king!”

It makes Oz stutter in his rhythm, letting out a sound like he's been punched. “T-that's right, Angel. And a King doesn't let those peasants decide who he is or what he does.” With that, he snakes a hand around between you, maneuvering until he is under your panties, circling around your bundle of nerves and making you throw your head back, moaning out more pleas.

He chuckles. “Always wanted to hear a pretty girl scream out my name up here. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?” The next word comes out desperately, like he needs to hear it, “Please.”

You start to chant his name, which makes him finally press his finger against your clit. “Oz! Ozzie! Oh! Oswald!” Your legs spasm and your mouth easily forms his name, your thighs hugging hard around his sides and forcing him to press right against you. He groans out, “God, my Angel,” and you feel him still as he grunts and growls against your neck.

Catching your breath together, you eventually separate a bit, the heaviness of the summer air and the stickiness combining to make you both feel a bit…gross. Chuckling, Oz removes his leather jacket. What little light exists around you highlights the sweat on his soft, strong arms, making your legs press together again.

He sees you, and lets out a moan. “Sweetheart, I love yah, but you’ve worn me out.” He throws his jacket casually in the back of the car and you collapse onto your back on the trunk, the exhaustion finally reaching your body. You let out a squeak as you feel Oz press against your thighs, removing your panties and cleaning you up with a wet wipe.

Sitting up, press a sweet kiss to his nose and thank him. He smiles serenely at you and you both contentedly sit, for a moment, before you remember where you are. Your heart seizes with anxiety and you push him away getting off the trunk and gesturing wildly with your hands, “Oz! We did that in public! Where anyone could see! What were we thinking! I-”

He laughs, a full belly laugh, and you turn to him with your hands at your hips. “What's so funny, Oz?”

He wipes a tear away, “Sorry, doll, didn't mean to mock you.” He looks fairly proud as he admits, “I own this place, and most of the place around it. I usually open it up to others but tonight…I made sure no one else would be up here.”

Your demeanor shifts to one of relief. “Oh, thank God.” He brings you to him, pressing your back against his front and hugging you from behind. “Oh, I'm not God, Sweetheart, but I'll take the thanks all the same.”

You swat at him, and he chuckles. Then, he groans and presses his head against your shoulder. His voice comes out hesitantly, “Besides, I didn't need anyone seeing me coming in my pants like a fucking teenager over a pretty girl.”

You join him when he laughs, and his wandering hands go to your sensitive spots, seeking out ticklish areas to make you giggle with glee even more. Two weirdos, indeed.

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

....anyway hope you enjoyed! 💙💙

[crystlizabeth]

Thinking about Simon and his Stallion!wife How while in Vegas for their anniversary Simon decided he wanted to spoil her. The couple had been walking around the stores he watch as her eyes laid on a Louis Vuitton. “You wanna go in?” He asked pulling her closer to him by the hip.

“I don’t think so.. we’ve already spent enough..” she spoke her voice was hesitant as her arm wrapping around Simon’s waist.

He simply rolled his eyes and walked towards the store. Simon loved spending his paycheck on her, yes she was grown and made her own mine but what’s the fun of having her spend her own money on herself when he was with her. Nothing was to much when it came to her. The Chanel, Dior, hell even H&M bags His hands he carried her bags proudly, his gorgeous wife holding on to his bicep her pretty freshly done nails holding his arm.

Now he kneeled in front of her fastening the heel around her ankle, his eyes scanned her calf tattoo the pretty details, soon his eyes met hers her dark eyes looking down on him a smile displayed on her glossy lips. He stood up watching as she tucked her boho twist, holding her hair as she scanned the heel.

“What do you think?” The sales lady asked.

“Not really a fan of I’m honest.. do you happen to have wedge sandal, the starboards? I’ve had my eye on them for a while” She asked her tone excited while looking down at the small lady.

Simon watched as the lady looked up at his wife Her light eyes a bit nervous, “well umm..” she muttered, yep definitely nervous.

“Oh Honey I don’t bite.” She teased her hands meeting her hips.

“Well ma’am I don’t think we have your size..”

“On thats to bad..”

“I’m sorry I bet you could order them online!” The sales lady said.

She looked over at Simon then back at the lady “it’s alright hun, no worries.” She spoke sitting back down.

He could tell she was sad more disappointed, he helped her take off the heels it’s was and unsuccessful shop. Yet Simon now knew what she wanted, and he be damned if he didn’t get them for her.

He spent that night scrolling through his hope even making a few calls and ended up finally finding a store that had them.

It was weird especially on holiday not to wake up with her husband not in bed with her was new but not out of the ordinary. She ended up getting a text saying ‘Be ready for brunch I’ll be back soon gorgeous.’ It wasn’t long before he got back and she saw the bag in his hand.

He loved the face she made her jaw slightly dropped “Si?” She spoke fastening her gold hoop, Simon’s eyes scanned her body the white sundress she wore hugging her body the bottom being ruffled and stopping at the top of her knees, the top of it in a U shape her cleavage showing the sleeves also ruffled. Shit she looked good.

Simon cleared his throat before speaking “So you know those wedges you wanted.”

She gasped “you did not!” She smiled walking over to him quickly.

Simon hanged her the bag watching her place it on the bed Opening them “oh my lord, they’re so pretty aint they!” She smiled her eyes scanning the shoe.

Simon smiled as she let her arms wrap around his neck her lips kissing his multiple times. “Ugh! I love you so much. Baby! You didn’t have to!” She spoke between kissed knowing damn well he just spent twelve hundred dollars on them.

“But I did.” He spoke simply, his hands wandering soon feeling up her ass.

She hummed “what if we just do lunch instead brunch is for white suburban moms anyway.” She joked.

“Might make you mom…”

“Simon you impregnated me now I will rain hell.”

He chuckled pushing her against the bed, “yet you still beg me to cum in that pretty cunt of yours huh?” He spoke bitting her lip.

“You better get this dress off me, and that don’t mean rip it.” She spoke the feeling of Simon’s hands already at work.

“If this is a thank you I might just buy you another pair.” He smirked against her lips.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Sorry for any spelling errors but I figured y’all used to it reading my stuff!

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Triple Black Korean Fried Chicken and Waffles

On the back of Eugene Yang's (Of the Try Guys) failure to make fried chicken and waffles, I, as a fellow Korean, thought I would help a bit. by:

Making it super black

Improve the flavor

Make it Korean spicy

For reference how Eugene failed are in these categories:

He failed to realize that Silkie Chicken is more lean, thus he needs to marinade it and cook it for a shorter cooking time.

He used the wrong dipping method. Dry dip, then wet, then that's it.

He could have used rice to make it crispier

He could have made it more evil by making it completely black

He should have made the dipping sauce sweet and spicy.

To be clear he did a pretty good job. He used honey, and used Soy sauce in the place of salt. But I'd have considered a bulgogi marinade at that point for it.

Fried Chicken:

Ingredients

3 tbsp of honey

3 cloves of garlic

1 thumb of ginger

6 tbsp soy sauce

6 tbsp sesame seed oil

1 tbsp kochukaru, fine

1 tbsp ground white pepper

4 tbsp Black sesame seeds

2 tsp of charcoal powder

2 tbsp Corn starch

1/3 cup ground Black rice, made into a black flour

4 cup AP Flour

6 tbsp soju

2 eggs beaten

1 lb Silkie Chicken thighs and wings

kochujang

scallion

1 quart of canola oil for frying

Method:

Make Bulgogi Sauce

1 tbsp of honey

3 cloves of garlic

1 thumb of ginger

6 tbsp soy sauce

6 tbsp sesame seed oil

Mix the marinade. Put the chicken into a bowl. pour marinade over the chicken.

If you want an extra umami kick, then use guk kanjang, but keep in mind it's super umami and also super salty, so you might want to cut down the amount by a tbsp and add a little water.

Normally I would put in sesame seeds and green onions, but both will burn.

The food science reasoning on this is: A marinade makes the chicken more tender. And the oil should slow down and even out how the Black Chicken is cooked. Black chicken also cooks faster, being leaner meat, so this may help even out the cooking process.

The Breading:

Dry Ingredients

1 tbsp kochukaru, fine

1 tbsp ground white pepper

4 tbsp Black sesame seeds

2 tsp of charcoal powder

2 tbsp Corn starch

1/3 cup ground Black rice, made into a black flour

4 cup AP Flour

Wet ingredients

6 tbsp soju

2 egg beaten

1 cup buttermilk

Gochu dipping sauce

1 tbsp gochujang

3 tbsp soy sauce

1 clove garlic

1/2 thumb of ginger, peeled and ground.

1 scallion, diced

1 tbsp black sesame seeds

1 tbsp honey

Combine the wet ingredients separately from the dry ingredients

You're going to take the mairnated chicken and dredge it in the buttermilk mixture first, and then dredge it in the dry ingredients second.

Use an air fryer/fryer to cook the chicken until crispy. Again, be careful to not overcook the chicken. Silkie is leaner and takes less time.

The idea is to up the whole "red waffle" is evil idea by making red fish with black spots that bleed red in the middle. Cue evil Eugene laugh.

Black Ink Noodle salad

As a side, black ink noodles in a sesame dipping sauce.

Try to undercook the noodle a tiny bit since the noodles will absorb the sauce.

Sesame dipping sauce:

1 tbsp Honey

3 tbsps soy sauce

1/4 cup rice vinegar (If you're being "more Eugene" you can use balsamic [black] or pomegranate vinegar [deep red] for the color effect for the same amount)

1 tbsp black sesame seeds

3tbsps sesame seed oil

Cook the noodles, and then mix together the dipping sauce. Put the dipping sauce to the side, serve it like soba.

Waffles

1 sweet potato, medium, baked prior, and mashed into a paste. (Red fleshed would be better)

1 tbsp soju

1/2 cup rice flour (Not sweet rice flour. Don't mix them up).

1/2 cup AP Flour

1/4 cup Black Sesame seeds

1 tsp baking powder

3/4 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp nutmeg

5 tbsp red beet powder

1/2 cup buttermilk

2 eggs

Black sesame seeds (optional and to taste)

1 fish waffle maker

Sweet Adzuki paste (You can buy online or make it yourself fairly easily).

Combine well until there are no lumps the buttermilk and the beet root powder first. Beet root powder has a tendency to clump so make sure it dissolves.

Combine the dry ingredients first: The rice flour, the cinnamon, the baking powder, the AP flour, the rice flour, the sesame seeds, the salt, the nutmeg.

Then combine the wet ingredients, the buttermilk with the beet root powder, the eggs, and the buttermilk. Add the sweet potato in last.

Heat up your waffle maker. (Better if a fish waffle maker)

Slowly combine 1/3 of the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients. Combine together slowly. Then combine another 1/3 and then the last 1/3rd. When just combined, spray your waffle maker, and do a test waffle. Often the first one is a dud. Let that be.

Add half the amount of the waffle, let cook halfway, add adzuki paste, cook the other half of the waffle, let cook together.

Serve the waffles hot and crispy.

The theory is that when you serve this recipe, it should be crispy, but still have contrasting flavors, yet have colors that aren't neceearily recognizable. Does it break the majority of the Korean rules? Yes. I suppose if you want to make it more colorful you can add a mango salsa, but look... it looks like a dish Eugene would serve.

[junekissed]

the secret garden

member — seokmin x gn reader genre — fluff :) happy valentine's day! word count — 2.2k warnings — none! notes — this is for @hvcmixtape's valentine's day song collab!! this fic is based on: "like real people do" by hozier

be sure to check out the other participants in the collab - masterlist here!

“hey, honey?”

seokmin looks up at the sound of your voice trailing in from the other room. “yeah?” he calls back.

“i’m off to the store to get stuff for dinner, okay? i’ll be back in a while. text me if you need anything!”

he smiles. “ ‘kay. love you!”

“love you too!” you reply.

he closes his laptop, waiting. minutes later he hears the front door click shut and faintly, the sound of your car starting as you drive away.

when he’s sure you’re gone, he gets up from his chair, peeking out through the doorway of his office before walking out into the house.

the sliding glass door to your backyard opens with a squeak as seokmin slips outside, quickly crossing the yard. he struggles a little moving the heavy birdbath, but once it’s out of the way he finds what he’s looking for.

it’s purposefully hard to get to; hidden behind a cluster of small trees and shrubs and covered even further by the birdbath, because he needs to make sure you won’t see it, unless you knew exactly where to look.

he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees everything in place, just as it was when he last checked a few days ago.

he’s been planning this since last february, when he originally planned on doing this for you; except the squirrels got to it a few days before he could and he had to rush to buy cheap roses from the grocery store down the street because all the florists had been sold out for weeks. he’s still mad about that, and this year he made sure to cover everything in netting so it wouldn’t happen again.

he even bought anti-squirrel spray, and he feels kinda bad about using chemicals, but he didn’t want to risk a natural, chemical-free repellant not working and forcing him to settle for something store bought for a second year in a row. sorry, squirrels.

but thanks to—or perhaps, in spite of—his precautions this year, his gift is perfectly safe and sound. his flowers are coming along perfectly.

they’re right on the verge of blooming: the buds just barely beginning to open, just in time for valentine’s day in a week.

of course, he’s got the classic v-day flowers: deep red roses, pink speckled carnations, white daisies.

but he knows he can do better than that. any moron with a packet of seeds can grow roses in their backyard. so he’s planted some of your other favorites too, ones that took a little more planning to pull off. honeysuckle, tulips, and daffodils, some of your favorites, take up one corner of the flower bed.

the work and research put into getting everything right has been tedious, but seokmin is an ambitious man, and he would only attempt it for you. sure, it probably cost more in time, effort, and supplies than ordering a nice bouquet online would have, but he likes doing things himself, and he likes that his way is more personal.

it’s been many months of diligently deleting the search history on his computer so you don’t see the hour and a half of googling things like “how often do i water carnations” and “are worms good for plants” and “how much sunlight for tulips” every day.

not that he thinks you’d go looking, but he can never be too careful when dealing with surprises. not after two christmases ago when you found your (unwrapped) presents sitting behind the washing machine when your sock had fallen down there; no, he’s learned his lesson.

he heads to the shed along the side of the house to grab the scissors from the shelf of gardening supplies, along with a small watering can.

he’s glad you never end up sticking to your annual new year’s resolution to start gardening more, because if you had, you probably would’ve found his secret flowers already. although maybe after this, he might be able to convince you to come outside and garden with him every once in a while. it’s actually kind of fun, and it’s satisfying seeing his hard work turn into something beautiful.

when he’s done trimming the dead leaves and making sure the plants have enough water, he carefully replaces the netting and moves the birdbath back into place. he puts the gardening scissors and watering can where they belong before heading back inside, carefully sliding the door shut behind him and locking it again.

he’s just finishing washing the dirt off his hands when he hears your car pull up into the driveway, and he can’t help the smile that grows across his face at just the thought of you. he flicks his hands, gives them a quick wipe with a towel before opening the front door and going out to meet you at the car and help you carry everything inside.

the next few days pass by quickly, and before seokmin knows it, it’s the night before valentine’s day.

he’s just gotten back from work, having left early to make sure he has time before you get home, leaving him plenty of time to get everything ready for tomorrow. 

he opens the back door, leaving it open so he can hear your car pulling up in case you get home earlier than expected.

crossing the yard he feels like a kid on christmas eve, sneaking out of bed to peek at their presents before christmas morning. he’s excited for his months of planning to finally come together, and he can’t wait to see the look on your face tomorrow when he finally gets to give it to you.

he carefully cuts the flowers, picking out the prettiest and brightest blooms and setting them in a little container so he can take them inside without damaging them. 

back in the house he stands over the counter, thinking about how to put everything together. he’s watched countless videos on how to do different kinds of flower arrangements, but sitting in front of the flowers he grew himself, ready to start, it’s a little more nerve-wracking than he had thought.

he’s only got one shot at doing this right, and although there’s still some flowers left outside that he didn’t cut, it won’t be enough to make a completely new bouquet.

he takes a deep breath, eyes flicking across the counter from the daffodils to the daisies before he finally settles on the roses first. gingerly he picks one up and sets it in the vase he bought, already lined with floral tape and filled with just the right amount of water.

one by one he carefully places the flowers in the vase, trying his best to add layers and make everything look nice and organized.

it takes him a little while but finally it’s finished, and he stands back, admiring his work. it’s not as perfect as he’d hoped it would be, but he has to admit it looks pretty damn good for an amateur florist like himself. it definitely would've looked nicer had he bought a pre-made arrangement instead, but he's so happy with everything that the thought of buying flowers doesn't even cross his mind.

he checks his watch, surprised to see how much time has passed as he hurries to put the arrangement in a hiding spot (one that you won’t accidentally find this time) and put your other presents together in a little pink gift bag covered in hearts.

he hears the front doorknob turn just as he’s taking things out of the refrigerator to get started making dinner (it’s your night to cook, but he wants to keep you out of the kitchen and away from the hidden presents).

as always, you greet him with a smile and a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your head against his shoulder. the corners of your eyes crinkle in joy when you see that he’s making your favorite dinner, and you start telling him about your exhausting work day as he cooks.

you’ve decided to take the holiday off and call in sick tomorrow, preferring to spend a nice, romantic day with your husband, so you aren’t in bed as early as you usually would be on a work night. instead, you’re cuddled up on the couch after dinner, talking late into the night about everything and nothing at all. it’s these evening with seokmin that you love the most; the quiet days when you can just be around each other and everything feels safe and comfortable.

and he doesn’t even mind when you fall asleep on his shoulder and he has to gently tap you awake to bring you to bed. in fact, he couldn’t be happier.

the next day he sets his alarm and wakes up before you, sneaking out of bed and tucking his side of the blankets against you so that you won’t immediately notice he’s gone.

by the time you wake up a little while later, the smell of breakfast is already wafting into the room as seokmin carries a tray of waffles and fruit, topped with whipped cream and strawberries in the shape of a heart.

his face breaks into a grin when he sees you awake, carefully handing you the platter of food.

you smile sleepily at him, still letting your eyes adjust to the morning sunlight. “hi, baby.”

he giggles, sitting on his side of the bed next to you. “hi sweetheart. happy valentine’s day.”

he nods at the plate, wordlessly asking you to try the food, and you oblige, cutting off a big piece of waffle. and of course, like everything seokmin does, it’s— 

“—so good,” you moan through a mouthful of food, savoring the taste. “you spoil me,” you say as you motion to the spread on your lap.

he giggles. “you deserve to be spoiled. and besides, you haven’t even seen everything yet.”

you pretend to be shocked, gasping exaggeratedly. “there’s more?” 

after many years with seokmin, you know he’s probably got something insanely elaborate up his sleeve, but you’re still not used to the way he treats you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. and to him, you are.

he sits with you while you finish your breakfast, leaving only to take your dish back to the sink while you get up and throw some clothes on.

you meet him in the kitchen and immediately see the counter covered in little gifts, but the focal point of the arrangement is a huge case full of flowers, bright pinks and whites and reds with little hints of green spread throughout.

"minnie, this is so…" you start, your voice breaking a little as you walk towards the little display. "these flowers are gorgeous. you must've spent a fortune, you shouldn't have!"

he blushes a little, twining his fingers together. "i didn't!"

you narrow your eyes at him in confusion, and he continues. "i didn't spend anything on them," he repeats. "i grew them myself. so– well, yeah, technically i did buy the bulbs and the seeds and the fertilizer, but i got them on sale so it wasn't that much…" he trails off when he sees you staring at him, mouth hanging open. "what?"

"you grew these?" you ask in shock.

he grins proudly. "i did! and i arranged it myself, too, does it look okay? the carnations wouldn't stick to the tape right, so i had to just– y'know, shove them in there. but they look fine, right?"

you think you might cry at how thoughtful and perfect and wonderful he is, and he's explaining something about squirrels but you're not paying attention because all you can see is the way the smile on his face reaches all the way up to his eyes and the way he scrunches up his nose when he talks, and all you can think about is how happy it makes him when he makes you happy and how happy it makes you when he's happy and how you couldn't be more in love with this man if you tried.

so you do the only thing you can think to do: throw your arms around him and kiss him like it's your first kiss, your last kiss, and every kiss in between all wrapped up into one, and the way he instantly melts into your arms is worth more than any present or expensive floral arrangement he could buy for you. his gifts mean a lot, but nothing comes close to the giddy feeling bubbling up in your stomach when your lips are on his and his arms are softly hugging your waist and his nose is just barely brushing your cheek, and it's the most wonderful feeling in the whole entire world.

and when you finally break apart he's got that sickeningly in-love look on his face, and you know that everything in your life has been leading up to this moment; when you both have so much love you can't physically hold it in, and it spills out over into everything you do for each other. nothing else matters except you and him, your sunshine husband who grows homemade bouquets of flowers for you.

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[msmercury84]

Wedding Anniversary on the Beach

*Author's note: Wild Bill purchased a rundown beach house in New Jersey. He did construction work until the house was completely remodeled. He, Frannie and their eldest son stayed in the house on occasion. This was before the birth of his second son. Guarnere sold the house and bought another beach house to restore and selling it when it was remodeled. This information is in the book he wrote with Babe. Bill commented, "I've always known how to make a few extra dollars." He also said, "Old enough to eat, old enough to work."

The story about Augusta hitting the judge and the hit and run driver on the head with the judge's gavel and Joseph Guarnere hitting a police officer is true. It's also true that Bill's godfather punched a police officer. Augusta really told a woman in the hospital's office to "Keep him (Bill)!" This info came from a collection of letters belonging to Dick Winters that I found online. The line about "lumping the judge" with his gavel also came from the letters.

Bill was known to be largely non materialistic. This info came from his book. He often said, "We were happy with what we had. Now people keep buying more and more stuff."

The idea of paying his nephews to help him finish the first house on the beach came from my imagination, as did the backstory of the elderly nudists who were the former owners of the house.*

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

In the winter of 1946, Bill purchased a run down beach house in New Jersey. He intended to fix up the house for himself and Leigh to use. Guarnere intended to eventually sell the house and perhaps buy and restore another house for extra income.

He hired Maria's and Julia's sons to do construction work with him and Bill paid the teenage boys fair wages. Guarnere and his nephews finished the house in time for his one year wedding anniversary with Leigh.

She was eager to see the house and they decided to spend their first anniversary on the New Jersey shore. During the drive to the beach house, they were reminiscing on how they met. Bill told Leigh,

"When I saw ya kickin' that guy's ass at Toccoa, that reminded me o' Ma. You're fiery, like her."

"What makes you say that, Honey? I'm not calling you a liar, but I've never seen Mama acting that way. Guarnere laughed,

"Let me tell ya about somethin' Ma done when I was 15. I was out roller skatin' in the street. Some guy in a car hit my ass. It was a hit an' run. I had to go to the hospital an' I was there four days.

The cops got hold o' the guy an' he paid off the judge. We went to court, an' the judge wanted to dismiss the case due to lack o' evidence. It made Ma furious an' she went up, grabbed the judge's gavel an' lumped him on the head wit' it twice."

"Oh, my God! I can't picture her doing that."

"That ain't all, Baby. After she done that, she lumped the hit an' run guy. Then, a cop tried to get hold o' her. Pop punched him. Another cop got after Pop, an' my godfather punched him. Nothin' happened 'cause they figured the judge didn't want word to get out that the case was fixed."

Leigh was shocked, then she started to laugh.

"If ya think that's (he pronounced the word as 'dats') funny, wait until I tell ya about Ma an' the hospital bill. I got better an' I was ready to go home, but we didn't have $45 to pay the bill.

Ma talked to some lady in the office an' she said I couldn't be released until the bill was paid. That got Ma fired up, an' she said, 'Keep him!'" More laughter ensued from Leigh, and Bill joined in.

When Bill pulled their car into the driveway in front of the beach house, Leigh looked at the white one story house,

"Honey, it's beautiful! You and the boys made it look new." Bill was proud of his work and he was extremely pleased that Leigh liked the way the house looked.

"Wait 'til ya see the inside, Baby. We redid the wirin', the plumbin', we put new linoleum in the kitchen an' new carpet in the bedroom. The boys an' I kinda scrounged around an' found furniture for the dinin' room an' the bedroom. I refinished the wood, stripped the old stuff off an' it looks brand new."

He got out of the car, went to the passenger side door, opened it for Leigh and they walked hand in hand to the front door. Bill got the key from his pocket, opened the door and carried Leigh into the house.

"I wanted to carry ya over the threshold, Sweetheart." He put her down in the living room. The floor was light colored hardwood that would be easier to keep dirt and sand free than carpet.

Augusta had provided white Priscilla curtains for the windows and Bill bought the blinds. He found a good deal on a tan colored couch with matching chairs that he purchased from a co-worker. The co-worker included a nice coffee table and end tables, both light colored wood and two tan colored lamps with white shades.

Julia donated two snake plants in neutral colored planters. Maria made new covers for the throw pillows on the couch that complimented the tan coloring. Teresa bought a small radio for the living room.

Leigh smiled as she looked around the living room,

"It's lovely, Bill." He explained how his sisters helped and how he got the living room furniture.

"Ma gave us the curtains, an' everybody kicked in an' gave us a completely stocked kitchen. Sure, most of it's used, but I got a new set o' dishes an' silverware. I've been savin' some money for this place an' I wanted to get a few things. I got a new set o' sheets for our bed an' a nice bedspread from that fancy store where I bought your red dress.

I waa hopin' maybe you could make some o' them embroidered pictures for the walls an' we could bring a few pictures from home. We got a copy o' our weddin' picture an' the portrait like we gave to our folks."

"I'd be delighted to make some counted cross stitch pictures, Honey. The portraits will really make it like home."

Bill showed her the kitchen, with a new white linoleum floor and light yellow paint on the walls. As promised, the kitchen table and chairs looked new.

"I didn't wanna choose curtains for ya, Baby. Maybe you could sew some?"

"I already have some ideas, Bill. This kitchen looks so cheery and bright. Look at that view of the ocean! It's gorgeous!" She noticed a wooden walkway from the kitchen door to the beach.

"Bill, it's just like something from a magazine. This is such a wonderful place." Leigh embraced and kissed him.

"I'm glad ya like it, Baby. C'mon, let me show ya the rest o' the place!" He led her to the bathroom down the hall. The floor was white linoleum. Blue and white tile covered the walls. The cabinet was freshly painted white and new silver colored faucets gleamed. A white bathtub with a shower and toilet completed the room. Guarnere opened a cabinet by the door that was at shoulder level.

"We made this big enough to hold towels, washcloths an' cleanin' stuff. It's up higher, so when we bring our kids, they won't be able to reach the cleanin' stuff. That'll keep 'em from gettin' poisoned." Leigh smiled,

"You'll be a wonderful Pop. You're already thinking ahead of their safety. This is a beautiful bathroom, Honey." Bill was pleased with Leigh's remark and he tenderly kissed her.

"Thanks, Sweetheart. You're gonna be one hell of a good Ma. Speakin' o' kids, follow me. We can use this for the kids' bedroom." They left the bathroom and walked a few steps down the hall to a small room with a window overlooking the beach. Bunk beds were set up by the window. The room was painted white.

"I bought the bunk beds, pretty cheap, from another guy at work. I redid the finish on 'em an' they're in real good shape. 'course there's the light fixture in here. We could get a night light if we need it." The room had the same light colored hardwood floor and the white Priscilla curtains as the living room. A light blue throw rug was beside the beds.

"I can picture sea shells on the window sill that the kids would find on the beach." Leigh looked to the right of the bed and saw a small wooden box with a hinged lid.

"You made a toy box! That's good planning, Bill." He grinned,

"We've gotta have a place for their toys." He crossed the room and opened a door,

"Here's the closet."

"It looks great, Honey."

"Now, come see our bedroom." She followed him to the room at the end of the hall. Bill stepped back, allowing her to enter the room first. She saw the beige carpet, a bed, end tables, a dresser with a mirror and a chest of drawers, all in light colored wood.

Beige wallpaper with white sea shells covered the walls. White Priscilla curtains covered a window overlooking the beach. An obviously new white chenille bedspread with small, beige sea shells covered the bed.

"Honey, this room is beautiful! You could do construction professionally." Bill walked up to stand behind Leigh, embracing her. He kissed her neck before replying,

"Thanks, Baby. I wanted to make everythin' look nice, 'specially our bedroom. It took a long time to get this room done, but it's worth it, knowin' ya like it."

"I love it! The bedspread really pulls everything together. Where did you find this lovely wallpaper?"

"The wallpaper came from that paint an' wallpaper store that's close to Ma's and Pop's house.

This room has a closet, too. I shoulda taken some pictures o' this place before we fixed it up. Everythin' was run down, kinda old lookin'. I've gotta admit doin' this kinda work is relaxin' in a way. I like workin' wit' my hands."

"I didn't realize you knew how to do all of these things, plumbing, wiring, hanging wallpaper and doing the floors and the tile in the bathroom."

"I learned real young. Pop would put me an' my brothers to work. He would always say, 'Old enough to eat, old enough to work.' We learned somethin' useful an' it could make money for us, too. I've always known how to make a few extra dollars.

Let me show ya one more thing." Bill took Leigh's hand, leading her to a set of French doors on the opposite side of the room. He opened the door and Leigh walked into a small portion of the yard that was surrounded by a tall white fence.

"This will be great for private sunbathing and we can also use it for a patio." Bill chuckled,

"The guy an' his wife who owned this before I bought it are about 80 years old an' they're nudists. I ain't got a problem wit' that, but, Holy God! No wonder they put up a fence. Nobody needs to see that."

"I have to ask, were they nude when you met them."

"No, thank God!"

After they carried in food and luggage from the car, Leigh fixed supper. While the food cooked, they got everything put away. Leigh ensured that they had a fresh can of coffee. Bill loved coffee and he drank several cups per day.

She asked Bill before they went on their trip about his choice for their anniversary supper. He wanted his favorite dish, spaghetti with one meatball, so she brought homemade pasta and made his favorite gravy (sauce) with Italian sausage. Leigh also had homemade antipasto, homemade garlic bread and she bought a bottle of their favorite red wine.

The table was set with a new tablecloth, yellow and white dishes, silverware, wine glasses and candles placed in antique milk glass candle holders. She lit the candles and Bill helped her serve their meal. He pulled out her chair before sitting down, then he asked the blessing. After supper was over, Guarnere told her,

"Sweetheart, ya done an excellent job wit' the food, as usual. You're like your Ma an' my Ma, one hell of a good cook."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Honey."

"I like seein' you in those pants, Baby. They show off that sweet ass." Leigh was wearing cream colored trousers, a matching short sleeved blouse and sandals. Bill was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black trousers, a belt, socks and shoes.

They washed the dishes together and then they listened to the radio until twilight as Bill smoked a cigarette. A full moon was out. Bill and Leigh decided to take a walk on the beach.

Leigh brought an old blanket to spread out on the sand. Bill had a small picnic basket containing two wine glasses and a small bottle of champagne that was removed from the refrigerator before they walked down the path to the beach. There was enough champagne for each of them to have two glasses.

They held hands and strolled down the wooden walkway to the beach. A full moon was out and the beach, as far as they could see, was vacant. There was no need to carry a flashlight to navigate on the walkway or the beach. The bright moonlight allowed them to see without extra light.

Leigh felt the small box containing Bill's anniversary gift gently striking her left hip through the pocket in her linen trousers. She had the cream colored trouser legs rolled up to her shins to allow herself to easily walk in the sand or wade in the surf.

Two months before their trip, she and Bill were talking while they washed, dried and put away the supper dishes. Bill was talking about a friend with whom he worked.

"Gene was showin' me a present his wife gave him for his birthday. It was a sterlin' silver cigarette lighter. The place where Annie bought it did free engravin', an' she had his initials put on it. It looked real classy. Somethin' like that is probably real expensive."

Leigh took note of his statement, because Bill rarely spoke of material things. He was content to live modestly. Still, she knew him well enough to deduce that the lighter was something he would like to have.

The following day, during her lunch break, Leigh called Teresa at work and asked if the jewelry store had sterling silver cigarette lighters with free engraving.

Teresa told her that the store charged per letter for engraving, but she lowered her voice and told Leigh the name of the jewelry store that did free engraving. Leigh thanked her sister-in-law for her help.

Then, Leigh went to the jewelry store and purchased the lighter. She had Bill's initials on one side. The other side of the silver lighter had the date of their wedding and a message, "I love you."

The clerk placed the lighter in a box and wrapped it in heavy silver colored paper with a white ribbon. After work, when she got home, Leigh hid the gift in a box of tampons, knowing that Bill wouldn't look for a gift in that location.

Leigh sat beside Bill on the blanket, resting her head on his left shoulder. Guarnere had his arms wrapped around her.

"I talked with Maxine Andrews the other day before I left work. They have a new song called "Near You" that's about to be released and I adore it. She began to sing,

"There's just one place for me, near you.

It's like heaven to be near you.

Times when we're apart and I can't face my heart.

Say you'll never stay more than just two lips away.

If my hours could be spent near you.

I'd be more than content near you.

Make my life worthwhile by telling me that I'll spend the rest of my days near you."

"That's beautiful, Baby." He moved his right arm away from holding Leigh so he could get the gift wrapped package out of his right trouser pocket.

"Just so happens that I got a little somethin' for your anniversary present." Guarnere handed her the box.

She unwrapped the small box and lifted the lid, seeing a necklace.

"Honey, it's beautiful! What kind of jewels are on this?"

"Teresa said those are moonstones. I never heard of 'em, but I thought the necklace would look good on ya. The chain is gold. Do you like it, Sweetheart? I can exchange it for somethin' else an' my feelins won't be hurt."

"I love it! You shouldn't have spent so much money. Still, I'll have to admit that I'm glad you did. This necklace will remind me of this beautiful moonlit beach. Would you please put it on for me, Honey?"

"Baby, I wanted ya to have somethin' really nice. You've done so much for me. I wanna let you know I appreciate ya." The manager of the jewelry store allowed Bill to put the necklace on layaway. Bill felt proud that he could buy something nice for Leigh.

Guarnere took the necklace out of the box and kissed Leigh's neck before he carefully fastened the clasp of the necklace. He grinned at her slight shiver when his lips made contact with the soft skin on her neck.

"It looks real nice on ya. Teresa said I could get a gold plated necklace, but I wanted somethin' that would last a long time."

" You're really good at selecting the perfect gift for me." Guarnere smiled when he heard Leigh's comment about his gift selecting skills. She added, "Honey, I know you appreciate me. You've always been very sweet and appreciative."

Then, she removed the small box from her trouser pocket and handed it to him.

"I have something for you, too." Bill unwrapped the box. Lifting the lid, he had a big smile on his face when he saw the lighter. He took the lighter out of the box and saw his initials carved on the front.

"Oh, Baby! Is this sterlin' silver? It looks classy wit' my initials on the front. Thanks, Sweetheart! I never thought I'd have somethin' like this." Leigh was pleased that Bill liked his gift.

"Yes, it's sterling silver. There's something else written on the back of the lighter. Guarnere turned over the lighter, reading the inscriptions.

"You're somethin' else, Leigh. You got the happiest day o' my life put on there. I love you, too, Baby." Bill gave Leigh a passionate kiss. After the kiss ended, she cupped his face in her hands, telling him,

"It's the happiest day of my life, too. We had such a beautiful wedding,everything was perfect, including what you told me at the altar."

"I'll never forget how I felt when I saw ya in your weddin' dress. You looked like a real, live angel. Let's have a toast to our first year as husband an' wife." Bill got the bottle of chilled champagne out of the picnic basket and two wine glasses. He undid the wire around the cork, popped the cork and poured a small serving of champagne into each glass. Then, Bill raised his glass,

"To my sweet, gorgeous baby. Thanks for makin' this date the best day o' my life." Leigh smiled and raised her glass,

"To the love of my life. Thanks for making this date the happiest day of my life. Here's to at least 80 more anniversaries." They gently tapped their glasses together and sipped the champagne.

"This is the same brand of champagne you ordered when you proposed in Paris. I remember its delicious flavor. Where did you find it, Honey?"

"I bought it in that fancy department store. A guy at work told me they started carryin' champagne. I kinda remembered enough o' this stuff's name to tell Julia. Her friend found it in stock an' gave me a real nice discount. I'm glad ya like it, Baby. I wanted it to be somethin' special." Leigh finished the champagne in her glass.

"You're so thoughtful, Bill. This is another perfect night, just like the night you proposed. The weather is perfect and we're in a beautiful place." Guarnere felt pleased that she liked his surprise gift of the French champagne. He finished his serving and asked,

"Would ya like a little more o' this, Sweetheart?" Leigh agreed to another serving and Bill poured more champagne for both of them. They sipped their drinks and cuddled as they watched the waves break on the shore. Leigh was smiling as she recalled their wedding reception.

"More than anything, I will always remember the unbridled joy at our reception. I don't think it was just my imagination. It seemed that everyone there was genuinely celebrating our marriage.

"It wasn't your imagination, Baby. I noticed it, too. We had all that great food, good music and dancin'. I think everybody already knew how much we love each other, an' they were celebratin'. Ma told me the other day, when she saw us dancin' together at the weddin' reception, she told Pop that their prayers had been answered. That was a sweet thing for her to say."

"What Mama said was very sweet. I think part of the reason people were celebrating was because the outcome could have been much worse had you not been so tough and determined to live. I still thank God for allowing you to survive." Guarnere carefully placed his wine glass on the blanket, ensuring that it wouldn't spill.

He gently took the glass from Leigh's hand, carefully setting it down and he wrapped his arms around her. Bill tenderly kissed her.

"I married an angel, ain't no doubt about it. He's why I made it, an' you played a big part in gettin' me healthy again. I don't think I could ever do enough to pay ya back for everythin' ya done for me." He gave her a tender kiss that turned passionate. After the kiss ended, Leigh replied,

"Honey, you don't owe me anything. There's no need to pay me back. If you insist on paying me back, you can do it in the bedroom and you can pay me back with some sweet babies when we're ready to start a family. Think of how much fun we'd have taking the kids to play on this beach. We could have a picnic, swim, gather sea shells and make sand castles." Guarnere smiled, imagining playing with their children.

"That would be real nice, bringin' our kids here. I don't think I'll resell this house for a few years so we can enjoy it as a family. Baby, I like that idea o' payin' ya back in the bedroom. I'm always willing' to make love to my beautiful an' sexy angel."

"I'm tempted to wade in the ocean. Would you like to come with me?"

"I'm not tryin' to be your boss, but wadin' in the ocean at night ain't a good idea. I've always heard that the sharks get a little closer to the shore at night. I don't want nothin' bad happenin' to my angel." Leigh slightly shivered at the notion of being attacked by a shark.

"Thanks for telling me, Honey. I didn't know that. No wading at night for me. If I'm attacked or eaten, I want you to be the one attacking or 'eating' me, so to speak." Bill chuckled,

"You little fireball." They decided to go back to the house. Leigh folded up the blanket and carefully placed the champagne glasses and the champagne into the basket. Bill once again insisted upon carrying the blanket and basket. They walked hand in hand to the house.

Leigh decided to move two of the dining room chairs to the fenced in area outside their bedroom. While Bill used the bathroom, she decided to put the blanket on the ground, next to one of the chairs. She had a small surprise in mind for Bill.

Once his business was finished in the bathroom, Guarnere washed his hands and went into the kitchen. He offered to wash the champagne glasses and put them away. Leigh told him to let it go until the following day, but he insisted on taking care of the task.

"Honey, when you get finished, meet me in the yard outside our bedroom."

"Sounds like ya got somethin' planned, Baby." She winked before telling him,

"I have a little...entertainment planned for us."

Leigh took this moment to go to the bedroom and put on the black lace bra, the black lace bolero bed jacket, garter belt and stockings with which she surprised him in Paris. She also inserted her diaphragm and decided to forego wearing the see-through black silk panties, recalling how much Bill enjoyed seeing her with the black lace garter belt and the black silk stockings, minus the panties.

Then, she put on her black high heeled pumps, touched up her lipstick and brushed her hair. She opened the French doors, leaving them open for Bill. Leigh quickly spread the blanket on the ground.

She decided to stand by the edge of the blanket, ensuring that Bill would see her as soon as he walked through the French doors. The thought of making love outdoors fueled her passion. Leigh heard Bill walking down the hall.

"I got everythin' done an' I wanna see what ya got planned for us." He stepped through the open French doors and saw Leigh beneath the full moon. Guarnere froze in his tracks as an extremely wicked grin appeared on his face.

"Oh, Christ! You look so fuckin' gorgeous. I love that outfit." He looked again and noticed her panties were missing. Guarnere walked over, standing in front of her. He removed his shirt, letting it fall on the blanket.

"Baby, I love seein' that beautiful pussy. There's somethin' extra hot about bein' outside like this." He pulled Leigh close to him and they shared an extremely passionate kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair while Bill gently held her ass in his hands. He reluctantly broke the kiss and stretched out on the blanket.

"C'mon over here, an' lower yourself down so I can taste that sweet pussy." Leigh's legs shook slightly as she complied. She was aroused beyond reason and she remembered how good it felt the when they did this on their honeymoon in Columbus, Ohio.

Bill's tongue licked the lips of her sex as he worked his way up to her clit. Then, his lips surrounded her clit and he gently sucked on it. In a few minutes, Leigh shivered as she came. She did her best to keep quiet since she didn't know if anyone was walking on the beach. He continued making love to her with his lips and tongue as she rode out her climax.

Leigh moved to sit on the blanket. Bill sat up, pulling her close to him.

"Seems to me that you're still wearin' too many clothes, Sweetheart." He unfastened the black lace strapless bra, allowing it to fall on the blanket.

"That's better. I love to see all o' you." Guarnere caressed Leigh's breasts, giving special attention to her hard nipples, alternating between licking and sucking them. Leigh whispered into his ear,

"Your baby needs a good, hard fucking." Bill slightly groaned, hearing her reply. He helped her stand and then he got up to stand beside her.

"Ya know what that does to me, hearin' you say that. How 'bout you bend over an' hold on to that chair." Leigh quickly followed his advice. She was extremely wet and ready.

Bill stood behind her.

"Seein' your sweet ass in the moonlight is drivin' me crazy. You oughta be a nudist, at least around here. I don't wanna share my sexy angel wit' anybody else."

"I don't want anybody else to see me. I'm all yours, Honey." Bill unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them and his boxer shorts low enough so he could make love to her.

Guarnere guided himself into Leigh, groaning at the feel of her wet sex engulfing him.

"I love how you're always ready for me. Feels so damn good!"

Then, he gripped her hips and began thrusting slowly into her. Leigh backed up against him, urging him to go deeper and faster. She could help but moan as he filled her. This was her favorite position for love making.

Guarnere eagerly picked up the pace. He wanted to go slower and make it last longer, but speeding up felt so incredibly good. He had no desire to slow down.

Both Bill and Leigh got more vocal with their sounds of pleasure. Leigh shuddered as a small orgasm passed. Soon, a bigger orgasm built. In a few minutes, she cried out as it overtook her. Guarnere felt her contracting around his cock. His thrusting got deeper and slightly off rhythm. He had an explosive orgasm, calling out,

"Fuck, yes!" He withdrew from Leigh and sat in the empty chair, pulling her onto his lap. Bill held her close, kissing her.

"You're so damn good."

"Thanks, Honey. I have a very good teacher. You're amazing."

"Do ya think ya might go around naked out here again before we go home? I like makin' love outdoors." Leigh grinned,

"Oh, definitely! As long as I get results like this, I'd gladly strip in this area. How about trying this during the day?"

"I like the way you think, Baby. How 'bout we get cleaned up an' go to bed? We need to get that room kinda broken in later, if ya know what I mean."

"Great minds think alike, Honey. I'm all for it." Bill put on his boxer shorts and trousers. He picked up his shirt and Leigh's lingerie. She took the blanket inside. They both took a bath, not together since the bathtub wasn't big enough and went to bed. Leigh kept her promise and they had some erotic adventures outdoors in the sunlight.

On their way home to South Philadelphia, Bill chuckled,

"It's a good thing I ain't in the Army now. One o' the guys, probably Luz, would see me in the shower an' say somethin' about having' a sun tan on my ass." Leigh laughed,

"I'd have to explain my all over sun tan. No regrets, though. We need to go to the shore again before it gets too cold for outdoor activities."

"Baby, that all over tan is super sexy. Thanks for the sterlin' silver lighter. That's all I'm usin' from now on."

"You welcome, Bill. Thanks for this lovely necklace. These moonstones will also remind me of making love outdoors. Thanks for buying and renovating the house."

"I'm glad ya like it, Sweetheart. If I kept the house long enough, ya might be a nudist like the older lady who used to live there."

"Who would want to see an old, naked lady?"

"When I get old, I still wanna see you naked." They both laughed and then continued talking on the way home.

"How 'bout we get started on makin' a baby when we get home?"

"I like the sound of that idea, Bill. I'm ready to start our family." Both Bill and Leigh hoped that a baby would soon be on the way.

[rajivchopra]

WHITE HONEY

[one-vivid-judgment]

Hello! Maybe it's a little too late for such request but anyway! For Higashi, Tsukumo, Kuwana, Kenmochi and Tesso - receiving honmei choco from their s/o on Valentine's Day 💝 Thank you!

You guys ever get in a mood and go "Mhmm, Judgment men"? Cause like, big same.

Toru Higashi

See, he knew what day it was. He should’ve seen it coming, but somehow, he didn’t. Call him stupid, but when you hand him the little wrapped box, he just freezes in place. Higashi.exe stopped working.

If his employees are around to see, he’ll try to play it cool and just say ‘thanks’. But really, you can see how much of a blushy mess he is. He doesn’t even like sweets that much, but the simple fact that you went out of your way to make chocolate for him get him all gushy. He’ll eat everything and not leave a single crumb. Expect him to return the favor tenfold when White Day comes around.

Makoto Tsukumo

He can get too caught up in his detective work sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he’ll lose track of what date it is! He’s got it circled in the calendar because he knows it’s important for you, and he knows you are planning something for him.

Unlike Higashi, he loves sweets. He’ll eat it all in front of you and make the most pleased little noises. Compliments just fly your way, even if the chocolate didn’t look that good in your own eyes. Tsukumo’s got you, he is your biggest hype man. He is not the greatest in the kitchen, but he will try to make something for you in return on White Day—it probably won’t come out looking great, but it’s the intention that counts! (And if that plan doesn’t work, he can always buy you something he knows you’ll like online.)

Jin Kuwana

Knows what date it is and knows what’s supposed to happen. It doesn’t catch him off guard when you hand him the little box of homemade chocolates. Even so, the smile on his face is genuine; it’s not like he’s ever spent Valentine’s Day with anyone or gotten chocolates before.

If the taste is not the greatest, he will let you know. He’s not mean about it, far from it! It comes from a place of genuinely wanting you to improve—then he’ll laugh, because he is the worst cook ever and there he is, talking out of his ass and giving ‘advice’. Main reason why your White Day gift won’t be anything homemade. It probably won’t be any expensive jewelry either, the guy is barely scrapping by as it is. So, uh... marshmallows, honey?

Shusuke Kenmochi

Let’s be honest, he probably forgot it was Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t drink as much since you convinced him to go to therapy, but that didn’t fix his poor memory for dates. Please, forgive him.

Eats it up no matter how good or bad it looks. If it tastes like shit, he doesn’t mention it. You did it for him and that’s all that matters to him. He’s eaten way worse anyway. He’ll probably go all out on White Day (he would have anyway, but even tiny gifts like this make him so happy, you don’t even know) and get you the fanciest jewelry he can find. Not into jewelry? Then he’s getting you the fanciest chocolates he can find. It’ll be the fanciest anyway because it’s for you.

Tesso

Oh boy, he was anticipating Valentine’s Day even more than you were. He already has the biggest, goofiest grin on his face when you approach him. He’s just so excited! You can tell he wants to start jumping the moment he grabs the box.

Before he eats the chocolates, he starts bragging about it. Hell, even when he’s already eaten it, he won’t stop talking to his boys about how ‘my baby made me the best damn chocolate ever’. Just don’t let Zhao catch wind of it—he’ll ask Tesso if your chocolate is better than the one he makes, and poor Tesso won’t be able to answer. And speaking of Zhao, you bet he is gonna give Tesso some baking lessons so he can make you something cool for White Day. Literally the best wingman.

[amewinterswriting]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @late-to-the-fandom! I've also never done this one before, but variety is spice and I (occasionally) aim to be spicy. The rules are to list the first line(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern, so I'm going to be going between fanfic and original fic a bit.

Tagging: @by-allison-kai, @winterandwords, @author-a-holmes, @authoralexharvey, @ahordeofwasps, @tailoroffates and @sam-glade

Magic's Servant (original novel)

Desidero hated these little gatherings. In theory, they were to foster positive connections between reapers - those who should have died long ago and only lived because they were foolish enough to take a demon bargain. In practice, they were an excellent way for said demons to keep a close eye upon their investment.

Two Lefts (original short)

No one ever claimed it would be easy. Yet, as Chwith crept further down the dark hallways, she couldn't help but think that her task had been going ridiculously smoothly.

The Landlady (original novella)

Scarlett opened the cupboard doors for the fifth time. As she had expected, nothing new had materialised in the last hour. All that lay within were a few lonely packets of instant noodle flavouring, a can of pinto beans and a jar with a thin smear of solidified honey in the bottom. The fridge was a similar story, except a couple of the fresh vegetables she had once been ambitious enough to buy were now creating new civilisations of fungal inhabitants.

An Arrangement (original short)

The Otherworld was rather an exclusive bar in Camden, hidden to most. It's clientèle were predominantly non-humans, all of whom agreed to a strict non-violence pact at the door, so here it was not uncommon to see demons brushing shoulders with angels, different packs of werewolves huddled together in their close groups or Fae practicing their charms upon specters.

Doctor (original short)

Pearly white teeth stretched out in a soundless scream. The man's – the subject's – dark hair stuck in strands to his damp forehead. His eyes screwed tightly shut as though it would shut out the pain.

A Ravenwatch Party (Elder Scrolls Online fanfiction)

Tamriel had been quiet for many long months. Since the troubles at Markarth, barely a whisper of danger or strife had reached Arianne. She was trying to take advantage of the quiet while it lasted, resting in her comfortably cozy home in Fell’s Run, yet she found the sudden peace hard to get fully accustomed to.

A Single Light (RWBY fanfiction)

Snow covered the ground everywhere metal shards did not. Fires claimed some of the oily wreckage, whipped into a steady blaze by the winds howling across the tundra. Shouts were swallowed by the gale and uniformed men and women ran across the site.

In the midst of this chaos, a woman struggled her way out from a pile of debris, hauling herself inch by agonizing inch across twisted and sharp fragments digging into her skin. Her hands were numb and aching by the time she fell into clear snow, but shakily, she pushed herself up onto her knees.

You Don't Know Me (Final Fantasy IX fanfiction)

The rain always fell heavy over Burmecia. That one constant had never changed, even as repairs transformed the ruins to a tentatively recovering city. New additions had sprung up; memorials and statues, celebrations of those who had saved the nation alongside reminders of just how much had been lost. Freya wondered exactly which purpose the statue of Fratley was meant to serve.

Heart to Heart to Heart (Final Fantasy XIII series fanfiction)

Noel's first impression of Snow left much to be desired. From hearing Serah and her friends talk, he had gained the impression that Snow was kind and generous and a little brash but good-hearted with it. Yet the Snow he had met was reckless, rushing into danger half-cocked. It was selfish, treating his own well-being with such disregard. He had left Serah behind with promises that he had no ability to keep and threw himself headlong into mortal peril. If he had died out here, flung far forward from his own relative time, how would the Serah he believed was safe at home ever get word of his death? It was selfish and cruel, to just let her keep on waiting and hoping for Snow's safe return, never hearing news of her fiancé.

The Purifier (Tales of Zesteria fanfiction)

It was reasonably common for seraphs to spend their first hundred years without discovering their true name. It was somewhat rarer to be two hundred years old and still not know their true name. It was downright embarrassing to be three hundred years old and nameless. Lailah was a significant amount older than that - though naturally, she would never divulge exactly how much older - and her own name was still a mystery to her. 

I do tend to shove characters in at the deep end, huh? Get straight into the meat of the story as quickly as possible, usually highlighting a negative aspect of the plot that needs to be solved over the course of the tale. The only one that doesn't is 'The Arrangement' - that sets the location first and the 'plot' comes in through the next few paragraphs.

[issie-https]

I loved reading your fanfics, could i ask you to do a story about Ménage à trois between Izzy Stradlin and Julian Casablancas from The Strokes, I'm crazy about these 2 mens!! and you can use my name if you want!!

Ménage à trois

Izzy Stradlin X Reader X Julian Casablancas

A/n: honestly, I kinda like this one🤷‍♀️ thank you for requesting! I’ve got some Nikki Sixx requests on the way😁

Word count: 1223

Warnings: smuttt(unprotected), blowjob, dirty talk, teasing, spanking, dacryphilia

Ménage à trois meaning:

an arrangement in which three people share a sexual relationship, typically a domestic situation involving a couple and the lover of one of them.

Main masterlist

༺✩༻

I woke up to my boyfriend, Izzy, slightly snoring. I decided to surprise him and Julian with a breakfast in bed. I don't do stuff like this often but they do a lot for me so, why not?

I make them a stack of pancakes each and a mug of coffee. I took Julian's first. "Julian, honey," I said softly, waking him up. "Hey," he rasped, sleep still in his voice. "I made you breakfast," I said proudly. "Aww, you're so cute," he laughed, tucking some hair behind my ear. "Eat up because we have some errands to run today," I said, putting the coffee on his nightstand and handing him the pancakes. "Do I have to come?" He groaned. "Yes, I'm dragging Izzy along as well so shut up," I laughed. "Fine. Love you," he said with a mouth full of food. "Love you too," I smiled, leaving his room and going to give Izzy his breakfast.

"Izz, wake up," I whispered, rubbing his arm. "You okay?" He asked, his voice deep from sleep. "Yeah, I made you breakfast," I smiled as he sat up. "Aww, you didn't have to, angel," he smiled, looking up at me. "We have some errands to run today, I've told Julian," I smiled. "Do we have to?" He mumbled. "Yes," I said, "I'm going to eat my breakfast. Come down when you're ready,".

I ate my food and went back upstairs for a shower. "Y/n?" I heard Julian call from the hallway. "I'm in the shower," I called back. He came in and closed the door behind himself. "I need you," he moaned. I looked down to see a bulge visible in his pants. "Aww, honey. Come here then," I cooed.

After an eventful... shower, I picked out my favourite leather skirt, a pair of tights and a white blouse, accompanied with my Mary Janes. "Thoughts?" I asked, giving Izzy and Julian a spin. "Gorgeous," Izzy said, exhaling some cigarette smoke. "Beautiful," Julian added, making me smile.

In all honesty, todays errands were getting some new clothes and also some new lingerie. I couldn't tell them that though because they'd just tell me to order it online or that they'll buy it for me but I like to make a day of it, y'know? Pamper myself for once.

We arrived at the mall and we went to Chanel first. "Seriously?" Izzy grumbled the second we entered the store. "Shut it," I glared at him. Next, we went to a random clothing store to get me a couple of skirts and dresses. Lastly, Victoria's Secret.

"Y/n. No," Izzy warned when I turned to the store. "Why? Don't you want to see me in some new lingerie?" I whispered in his ear. "Can't you just order it online?" Julian grumbled. "No, I wanna see what I look like before I buy it," I explained, grabbing their hands and dragging through the shop. "What about this one?" I perked. I got no reply so I looked around and saw both of them sat outside on their phones. "Little fuckers," I said under my breath.

I chose some pieces and went to the fitting rooms to try them on. I took some photos and sent them to Julian and Izzy, smirking at my pettiness.

Izzy: Get here now.

Me: No, I'm trying some lingerie on.

Izzy: You have five minutes.

I changed back into my clothes, went to the tills and bought all five pieces.

I went out to the guys to see them both scowling. "You okay?" I smirked. "Car. Now," Julian ordered. I smiled and turned on my heel towards the car park.

We arrived back home and I ran out of the car, inside and into the bathroom and locked the door. "Y/n Y/l/n. Open the door now," Izzy shouted to me through the door. "I'm changing. You and Julian can wait in the bedroom," I replied. "You're a bitch," he groaned under his breath.

I put on a white set and put my blouse back on but leaving the buttons undone.

I walked into the bedroom, seeing both of them sat on the bed, waiting for me. "Thoughts?" I asked for the second time that day. "You look like a whore," Izzy replied, scanning me with his eyes. I walked over to Julian and straddled him, looking into his eyes. "What do you think?" I asked him. "Same as Izzy," he replied blankly. I put on a fake pout, causing Julian to slap my ass. "I thought you liked it when I looked slutty?" I said, grinding myself on Julian's thigh. "Get up, now," Izzy ordered. I got off Julians lap and stood in front of them.

"Down on all fours, your gonna suck him off," Izzy said, standing up off the bed. I did as I was told, unbuckling Julians belt and helping him remove his pants, his hard dick sprung out, making my mouth water at the thought of him fucking my throat. I sunk my mouth down on his length, moaning when he finally hit the back of my throat. I felt Izzy behind me, rubbing his hands across my ass before giving me a hard slap, making me moan on Julian's dick. Izzy reached under me and unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it away from my body, leaving me in my lingerie. "Look how pretty you are," Izzy praised. He started rubbing his fingers on my clit, making me jolt a little from the sudden contact. Julian laced his fingers through my hair, tugging lightly. "You feel so good," he moaned as he pushed my head further down on his dick.

All of a sudden, Izzy removed his fingers from my clit, making me whimper at the loss of contact. I heard Izzy remove his leather pants and throw them somewhere in the room. He teased my entrance with his cock, holding my hip with his other hand. He slapped my ass before pushing his cock all the way into me, making me scream-moan as I felt him fill me up. Julian fucked my mouth, making my eyes fill with tears. "You're so fucking pretty when you cry," he said breathlessly. "Look at you, taking our dicks so well like a slut," Izzy groaned, quickening his pace. Sounds of skin slapping skin echoed through the room, adding to my arousal.

" 'm so close," I whimpered when Julian let me breathe. "Hold it," Julian said, slapping my cheek. The stinging sensation made me smile internally, liking the rough way they were treating me. Julian went back to fucking my throat as I felt them both twitch inside me. "Cum, princess," Izzy moaned as his thrusts became more sloppy. I came on his dick, moaning on Julian's. I felt them both cum in me, filling me up from both ends. "Good girl," Julian praised, rubbing my cheek. I swallowed his cum and Izzy pulled out of me. I felt our cum leak down my thighs. "I'll get a towel. You okay, angel?" Izzy said, standing up and walking to our shared bathroom. I nodded and mumbled a 'mhm'. He wiped my thighs then picked me up and put me in the middle of the bed. Both of them lay down beside me as we drifted off to sleep.

[kenkubluk]

grocery list time~

literally just get these things if you want a vegan low cal life, because you can control portions and make things you enjoy eating with less calories- i made some example recipes under the list:

coffee.

SPICES. please make the investment into SPICES!

->continuation of spices, heres a basic list- cocoa powder, cinnamon, garlic powder, onion powder, chili powder, veggie bouillon powder/cubes, salt, pepper, lemon pepper, etc (you can find more online but please dont forget it)

->and simple sauces like soy sauce, basic hot sauce, mustard, white vinegar, apple cider vinegar, etc.

stevia or agave fruit sweetener. (please make sure whatever you choose you dont buy any sweetener with aspartame!!)

dairy free yogurt (i’ve heard coconut is good)

dairy free butter (earthbalance is my fav by far)

-> you could also make due with olive oil (cooking)

1st milk for normal stuff- unsweet cashew milk or unsweet creamy almond milk

->2nd milk for cooking- i suggest soymilk but creamy coconutmilk works good too

tofu. extra firm and silky work for different things (meat substitutes, egg substitute, diff. milk products substitutes) get either/both

carrots, mushrooms, chickpeas, and cauliflower all make good meat substitutes (bacon, chicken nuggets, pulled pork, etc) if cooked properly

OATS! plain oats are soooo versatile (used as flour, cereal, granola, crust, etc)

ricecakes (i use it as replacement for toast)

Pumpkin or sweet potato (in NO SYRUP canned form, very good for cooking low cal desserts or protein bars)

apple sauce (used for cooking and just yum- can be an egg substitute)

low cal noodle types- chickpea, edamame, shirataki, konjac, cauliflower, zucchini, spaghetti squash, and i think miracle noodle

literally any and all veggies and fruits- but a reminder of basics are broccoli, cucumber, onions, spinach, beets, eggplant, tomato, zucchini, potato, apple, banana, grapes, oranges, pineapple, strawberries, watermelon, mango, etc

WARNING ⚠️ be careful of sugar free drink flavor packets as they contain aspartame and other strange ingredients that ppl have complained of side effects- i would suggest to steer clear of many of the packets and go for a large unsweetened lemonade or fruit punch bin of flavoring so you can make it yourself. please check ingredients for health reasons.

-> HOWEVER, drinks like olipop, simple truth organic, waterloo, and zevia all have flavored water/sparkling water/cola drinks that are aspartame free.

I highlighted things that i think are really important

Veggie dip: yogurt, seasoning spices (ranch seasoning is goated), and a tbsp or lemon or soysauc, all mixed and best used as a “veggie chip” dip, like baked cucumber chips

Literally any cake/protein bar: oats blended, protein powder, 1/2cup apple sauce OR mashed banana, some milk, and whatever toppings you like

Granola: oats, chia seeds, cut up fruit pieces, and maple syrup or honey for binding. mix in bag, bake on baking sheet on pan.

Hot n sour soup: you can use hot n sour packet or make veggie bouillon and add hot sauce, soy sauce, and tsp chili powder. Then (to whichever mix you’ve made) add egg mixing around, and then add extra firm tofu in little cubes. Let the soup mix well and set a little while cooling.

Nicecream: freeze banana. add banana, tbsp of milk, 2 tbsp of yogurt, tbsp of sweetener, and a fruit of choice (a tbsp of protein powder also will help). blend with blender and then let it sit for a minute- add whatever you want on top

my best “toast”: seasalt ricecake, spread 1tbsp vegan cream cheese, and then spread 1.5 tbsp of organic raspberry jelly.

[sapphic-luthor]

Answering your in tag question last week: it is indeed hotter than ass out here. Any fun summer recipes? I’m discovering that my meager little cookbook really only has nice hearty recipes that while tasty make cooking even more of a chore than I find it to be when it’s so hot out here. Hope you’re at least staying cool! -SMA

Oh man I hope you’re staying cool, I recommend a great many ice creams above all. But secondary to that, I do have some food ideas that I’ve been making a lot of recently that I’ll stick below the read more here :-)

I love a big huge enormous salad in the summer (and all year round tbh) and I think the best salads are about 50/50 made up of base greens vs. fun stuff. My personal faves are to start with a romaine or romaine/iceberg base and then add:

italian seasoned chicken breast

cherry tomatoes

little mozzarella balls

cooked orzo

sun dried tomatoes

croutons or crispy onions (ideally both)

thinly sliced red onion

dressing (personal fav is a vinaigrette made of lemon juice, balsamic, olive oil, salt & pepper, oregano, and chili flakes)

OR

soy sauce/ginger/white pepper marinated chicken

red cabbage

thinly sliced carrots

cucumber

red bell pepper

sesame seeds

scallions

fresh coriander

wonton strips (which you can airfry out of wonton wrappers in like 3 seconds)

dressing (best is a combo of sesame oil, garlic, soy sauce, rice wine vinegar, honey, and ginger)

Now if you’re not mad for salads, also nice in the summer is

A crumbled sausage + broccoli pasta (i like orecchiette); it doesn’t need to have a real sauce per sé, you can just season however you like and then throw a bit of pasta water, and parmesan in at the end and it’s lovely

Caprese with nice fresh mozzarella (best gotten from the cheese counter if possible). If you ever see san marzano tomatoes buy them immediately and make them into caprese

Veg-based sandwiches, I have a special love for a vegan one that’s got homemade cucumber sriracha hummus, tomatoes and baby spinach. It doesnt sound like much but if you get the hummus right it’s very cool + has a little kick and it’s lovely with nice bread!

Homemade greek gyros— I use this recipe every time and the marinade is actually life changing. Like sometimes I lie in bed and dream about this chicken and I am not even kidding

A pork + pineapple rice bowl, which basically consists of rice topped with; minced pork cooked with soy sauce and sesame oil, long strips of carrot and courgette cooked in a pan with salt + pepper til soft, pickled shallot or red onion (just left in a water/vinegar/sugar bath for 30min or so), and pieces of pineapple right out of the tin. There’s also a light soy/rice wine vinegar/honey sauce that can be thrown over the top— i think the friend i learned the recipe from got it from one of those meal delivery services so it’s likely online (or i can track it down from her for you if you’re interested!)

Hopefully some of those are of some interest to you!! I’ll live vicariously through you and your heat but I hope you stay comfortable and safe friend

[ask-hannah-blog]

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Honkers!!!

Pretzel again!🥨🤡 Just been living my life thinking of you and how fucking sexy you're getting love! ❤️ 😍 💖 ❣️ 💕 💘

Been following your advice and giving my plushies plenty of attention these past couple days and I gotta say the new greasy burger joint smell my flat took on these past couple days has been great! Having your body produce its own food is super convenient too I practically don't have to shop for food anymore! Well, unless if I wanna spread my mayo on some other salty snack heheheheheheh! Hyuck that reminds me my feet haven't been the only thing that have grown! My new diet is super good and yummy but I've been packing on some extra weight because of it! A big pot belly! Look good on me to be honest, feels like I was always meant to be a greasy gassy lard hog, y'know?

I finally found a use for my dumb buckteeth! 🤪 they're bottle openers durrr! I shoulda guessed!

Anyways I figured for Christmas I'd treat myself a bit and got a nice mani/pedi (my hands with my colors, and my toes with yours!), and you'll never guess who I ran into! A real Christmas miracle! My old friend toe cleavage! Now as tempted as I was to jump her right there and thank her for all the progress she's helped me make as a clown I did my best to keep my sausage at bay and chat it up with her. Proper girl talk you know? Even if I think she was a bit freaked out by the fact that my feet could cover her entire face hyuck! 😳

Well anyway, as luck would have it, she's actually looking for a new therapist. So I figured I'd give her your information! If you get a call from her and she schedules an appointment, you know what to do, "Honey toes"! Up to you if you wanna send her back after she's done cooking. I wouldn't want my Queen to think I'm selfish!

That's all from me for now, but don't worry I didn't forget about that trade offer of yours! I'm thinking of buying a proper camera and put the video of me going down on my feet up online so all the pervs out there can really enjoy my brand of foot worship heheehhe hyuck! It'll be my gift to our amazing community!

Pretzel out, keep up the good work Hannah ✌️😘

Merry Christmas!

Lol Pretzel you nasty girl, living off a diet of mayonnaise and soda pop. When your makeup comes in you’re going to have a bunch of red dots on your face to act as clown acne, you greasy freak!

Good girl playing with your plushies like I told you! Mmmm your greasy babies have got to be taking after their mama by now. Isn’t that right? Their fur is getting ratty and knotted, crusty with your stinky cum. I bet your cum has been bleaching them, their fur turning white over time, while their noses inflate into big red balls for you to honk. Their faces have changed too I bet. They’ve all got big stupid Buck teeth now, just like their mama. But that’s not what I’m talking about, is it? No, but you know what I mean. Their faces look more…. Perverted now don’t they? Some are making Ahegao faces, others are just leering, watching you fuck and molest their furry friends with obvious glee. They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they? You’re not the only one living on a diet of your cum. With how much they’ve absorbed they’ve been getting fat, getting little teddy beer bellies, big bunny titties, phat fox phannies! They just look so weird and freakish now, not like cute little stuffies at all huh? That’s because they’re sex toys, you in all your cartoonish perversion turned them into sex toys. Each of them is strapped with a colorful rubber clowny cock, or a slick greasy pussy. Lately your idea of playing with your stuffies has been riding a thick plastic bunny cock with your ass pussy, farting on him with every drop, while you plunge a slutty little piggy doll down on your weiner. It’s perfect for you! A gassy hog like Pretzel would have a big gross collection of perverted sex plushies wouldn’t she? Maybe the cute trans girl she used to be, whatever her name was would have cute sweet little stuffies, but not our Pretzel!

I bet your pot is sooooo cute! Why are you so perfect? I didn’t even think that you’d be blowing up too, how cute! Deep belly button? Fun to tongue? What’s it taste like? Can I bury my nose in it and just get lost in the smell?

And silly Pretzel your Buck teeth always had a purpose! They made sure that no one took you seriously, or thought of you as a real person! But the can opener trick is cute too!

Mani pedi you go girl! Treat yourself! I love that you have both our colors it’s like we’re married! 🥹 plus anyone who sees my colors in your yummy clown fleet will know instantly who you belong to! 👸 I think all my loyal clowny subjects should do the same and give praise to Pretzel for allowing them to show their devotion to me!

I don’t know how you were able to sit through an entire pedicure without without just losing your mind! I’m just imagining these poor Asian ladies trying to paint your big clowny toe tails while you’re sitting there in the chair chuckling your head off while your big girl cock is flinging strings of mayoie cum everywhere.

Even if you were able to keep yourself in control I don’t know how they managed to stop themselves from putting those delicious salty pretzel bites you call toes into their mouth. Mmm just being so close to that warm bready smell must have been soooooooooo tempting for them! Hoooooonk!

BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS!

Because!

AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!

HOT TOE CLEAVAGE!

As in:

As in

I got you girl don’t even sweat it!

I don’t even know why she needs a therapist, but I know becoming a fart sniffing clown is the treatment! Hyuck! Trust me guys! I got the degree!

Studies show becoming Pretzel’s devoted clown slave significantly increase a person’s happiness!

Gosh, I just don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from fucking her the moment she comes into my office! I mean you’ve just been teasing me and bragging about those hot pictures you have of her I feel like when i finally see them I’ll go nuts! I mean her toes, they pretty much single handily perverted you! I won’t stand a chance! 😱 Hehehehe!

What kind of girlie should we make for Pretzel guys?!?! Definitely going to give her a big pink beehive hairdo and her hair will become cotton candy! Then she could man your pervy little snack stand with you!

Do you want her fat, or do you want to do that yourself? ;)

Should she keep her pussy, or grow a peepee? If so how big?!??

Should she be slobby like you, or do you want a cute little sugary bimbo who puts up with all your nastiness because you’re soooooooooo cute?!???

Hehe okay, I’m masturbating way too hard to all of this! Just so excited to give Pretzel the girl of her dreams! Hehehe!

[the-puffinry]

this is so specific that it made me curious if there were any records of what Sicilian doves looked like specifically; ancient dove breed elitism? Something else, like prestige derrived from the location breeding them?

(source)

So I found a translation of that Theophrastus text online and it didn't tell me anything about doves but it's actually far more amusing than that. This is such a specific roast of a very long dead type of person. Please please read it, it is genuinely funny I promise. Anyway what is a 'daw'? a jackdaw? Were people really giving jackdaws tiny shields to carry as toys?!

"XV The Exquisite (Μικροφιλοτιμία)

Exquisiteness is a striving for honor in small things. The exquisite when invited to dinner, is eager to sit by his host. When he cuts off his son’s hair for an offering to the gods, no place but Delphi will answer for the ceremony. His attendant must be an Ethiopian. When he pays a mina of money he makes a point of offering a freshly minted piece. If he has a pet daw in the house, he must needs buy it a ladder and a brazen shield, that the daw may learn to climb the ladder carrying the shield.

When he has sacrificed an ox, he winds the head and horns with fillets, and nails them up opposite the entrance, in order that those who come in may see what he has been doing. When he parades with the cavalry, he gives all his accoutrements to his squire to carry home, and throwing back his mantle stalks proudly about the market-place in his spurs. When his pet dog dies, he raises a monument to the creature, and has a pillar erected with the inscription: “Fido, Pure Maltese.” In the Asclepieion he dedicates a brazen finger, polishes it, crowns it with flowers, and anoints it every day with oil.

And he has his hair cut frequently. His teeth are always pearly white. While his old suit is still good, he gets himself a new one; and he anoints himself with the choicest perfumes.

In the agora he frequents the banker’s counters. If he visits the gymnasia, he selects those in which the ephebi practise; and, when there’s a play, the place he chooses in the theatre is close beside the generals.

He makes few purchases for himself, but sends presents to his friends at Byzantium, and Spartan dogs to Cyzicus, and Hymettian honey to Rhodes; and when he does these things, he tells it about the town. Naturally, his taste runs to pet monkeys, parrots, Sicilian doves, gazelles’ knuckle-bones, Thurian jars, crooked canes from Sparta, hangings inwrought with Persian figures, a wrestling-ring sprinkled with sand, and a tennis-court. He goes around and offers this arena to philosophers, sophists, fighters, and musicians, for their exhibitions; and at the performances he himself comes in last of all, that the spectators may say to one another, “That’s the gentleman to whom the place belongs.”

And, of course, when he is a prytanis he demands of his colleagues the privilege of announcing to the people the result of the sacrifice; then putting on a fine garment and a garland of flowers, he advances and says: “O men of Athens, we prytanes have made sacrifice to the mother of the gods; the sacrifice is fair and good. Receive ye each your portion.” When he has made this announcement, he returns home and tells his wife all about it in an ecstasy of joy."

(source. really old translation obviously)