#Homemade laundry soap

[northbirdblog]

Easy Recipe to Make Your Own Laundry Detergent!

Costs next to nothing, and does a wonderful job leaving your clothes clean and fresh!

[mitchismirage]

Making Laundry Soap

Whew! What a busy day I had today! My first item on my to do list was to take a trip to Bulk Apothecary to pick up supplies I had ordered yesterday. I then stopped for a quick bite to eat at Subway and then stopped at the nursing home to visit my mom. After returning home I made the video below about making homemade liquid laundry detergent. While making the video my son called to ask if I wanted…

[everydayhalfling]

Reasons to make your own laundry detergent:

Save money!

Decrease your plastic consumption!

Control what is going into your detergent!

Recipe and the financial break down are under the cut:

HOMEMADE LAUNDRY DETERGENT 1 bar Fels Naptha (or similar) soap 1C Washing Soda (165g) 1C Borax (165g) 5Ga Water (19L)

Grate the soap bar. Heat one gallon (3.8L) of water on medium-low. Add the grated soap bar and stir. Allow the soap to completely melt. Add the washing soda and the borax, stir. Allow mixture to simmer until ingredients are dissolved. Pour the soap mixture into a five gallon container. Add the remaining water. Use only hot water for this, to prevent soap from congealing. Stir the detergent well and you're done!

THE FINANCIAL BREAKDOWN* Initial costs: $1.25 Fels Naptha $15.00 Washing soda, 1 box (55oz) $9.00 Borax, 1 box (65oz) $25.25 TOTAL

5 Gallons of Detergent: $1.25 Fels Naptha $2.18 Washing Soda $1.11 Borax $4.54 TOTAL

*At the time of posting, 2022/12/12; American Dollars

[brennanes]

DIY: Homemade Laundry Soap

[thevermingod]

been getting tired of having to pay so much for food and started making a lot of my own from scratch. So far Ive perfected most pastries, breads, butter, Ice cream, vanilla, and just general stuff. Ive started growing herbs too.

 Honestly if my town allowed it I’d probably have chickens cause eggs are so much, but like apparently there’s a ban on them. Right now Im trying to convince my fam to get a quail for eggs.

[decaffeinatedcandycane]

Random COD headcanons - AU

Ghost likes to mess with the thermostat. He keeps the room warm and watch as the recruits squirm in their seats. He wonders if someone will ever ask him to change the tempreture?

Price blames whoever is near the thermostat for the change in tempreture and "threatens" them.

Soap started food fight and when caught, blamed it on a banana peel.

Kyle steals confiscated products and return them back to the owners for favors.

One time Soap fell in the showers and the boys made prison jokes for a week.

Rorke used to work in the same summer camp where Graves spend his vacations. If Rorke was younger, they would have met.

Kyle misses a toe from a firework accident, when he was a teen. Told his mom an enemy soldier ripped it off.

Captain Price and Ghost met when they were sergents. They were briefly in the same base and bonded after Ghost fought of a dude and the captain covered for him.

Keegan and Ghost in the same room is hilarious. They have a bet who can make the most people unsettled in a month.

Roach talks to the stars whenever is alone in nature. He recites them poetry.

König clothes are handmade. He refuses to go to a store and try on different clothes, because of his size, small dressing rooms and the lack of choices.

Nikto hates cheese, so he lies to people he is lactose intolerant and have to use their bathroom, whenever they make fun of him for it. They never do again.

Roach eats cookies and chocolate milk before bed. He also watches cartoons with Soap and Gaz.

Captain Mactavish leaves his door unlocked, when he feels touch starved, in case, someone wants to snuggle with him. Mostly Ghost and Roach.

Roach will give you kiss goodnight, if you do not lock your door.

Sergent Soap is a dog for cleavage. Captain Mactavish prefers ass. Show them both and they will follow you around like puppies.

Price sends himself flowers and pretends a secret admirer did. The boys poked fun at him, so he scared the shit out them by writing "from Makarov" onto the card.

Nikolai eats only homemade food and makes his own alcohol. He has excellent survival skills and can Nara Smith his way in every situation. He shops in expensive stores, but tests the products on others before purchase.

Kyle has a PhD and can be an elementary school teacher.

Rorke hates every exotic fruit and fragrance that he comes across. He complains when something is not authentic and backs up his claims with a highly traumatic personal experience from his slavery.

Captain Mactavish smokes the rival brand cigars to Captain Price. They often glare at each other whenever one of them is smoking.

König often forgets and bites his food through his mask. Then, he rips a hole where his mouth is because he is amongst people and his pride refuses to accept defeat.

Horangi listens to people conversations and uses some stories as his own, to get out of stuff.

Simon can't read well. He had a stutter when he was young, was made fun off, so he went mute for few years. Never liked reading books anyway. Learned to say the entire alphabet in order in his late 17s.

Price faked a heart attack to get out of an important social event. Laswell caught him, so he bribed doctors to tell he has anxiety.

Soap is the messiest, not dirty except if he plays outside, bastard ever. Unless he is stressed. Then he is the mom with the coasters.

Soap has a pink apron and wears it while he does laundry, to cover up. Yes, he is fully naked. Captain Mactavish does the same thing.

Both Mactavish soldiers are close and give each other advice. They accept themselves as the same person.

Alejandro talks nonsense with Spanish sounding when he gets bored. Says they are special Spanish words.

Rudy is obsessed with pasta. If he is in a room with pasta, he will take continuous glances at it and take a plate as soon as he can. This is how Alejandro sucks up to him when he fucks up - with food.

[rodolfoparras]

RODOLFOPARRAS MASTERLIST

MDNI, 18+

♚ Top Male reader ♔ Bottom Male Reader 🎲 Gender Neutral Reader ♞, verse male reader

🎲 ♚ GN but suitable for top male reader 🎲 ♔ GN but suitable for bottom male reader 🎲 ♞ GN but suitable for a verse male reader

HEADCANONS

König w/ a size kink | x ♚

CONTENT TAGS: SIZE KINK, DEGRADATION, BLOWJOBS, RIDING, KÖNIG W/ A SMALL COCK, SEX TOYS, MIRROR SEX, SDH

Sex w/ Gaz | i, ii, iii, iiii♚

CONTENT TAGS: MENTIONS OF BLOW JOBS, CUM PLAY, MENTIONS OF FACIALS, SPITPLAY, BALL GAGS, ROUGH SEX, BREATH PLAY, RIMMING, POWER DYNAMICS, MIRROR SEX, FACIALS, HOMEMADE MOVIES, BRAT!GAZ, FTM!GAZ, NIPPLE PIERCINGS, SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM, DRUNK SEX, POSSESSIVENESS KINK, BRAT TAMING, HAND JOBS, WATERSPORTS, SENSORY DEPRAVATION, THREESOMES

DRABBLES

In which you and Keegan get up to some fun of your own while at work x| ♚

SPITBALLS

What it would be like…. Rimming w/ Gaz while he sleeps x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: SOMNOPHILIA, RIMMING

What it would be like…. rimming w/ Gaz x | 🎲

CONTENT TAGS: RIMMING

What it would be like…sex w/ Gaz while he wears nothing but…. x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: JEALOUS!GAZ

What it would be like…. free user reader w/TF141….x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: THREESOME, OVERSTIMULATION, FREE USE

What it would be like… alpha reader w/omega TF141…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: A/B/O, POSSESSIVENESS, EXHIBITIONISM

What it would be like… barrack bunny reader w/ TF141…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: OVERSTIMULATION

What it would be like…dating barrack bunny Soap…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: WRITTEN DEGRADATION, BJOBS, FOURSOMES

What it would be like… Rodolfo w/ a high sex drive… i, ii | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: OVERSTIMULATION, GUIDED MASTURBATION, USE OF TOYS, ORALSEX, COCKWARMING, SCENT KINK

What it would be like…Ghost as a dad…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: BREEDING KINK

What it would be like… baby trapping w/ Graves…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: BREEDING KINK, ATTEMPTED BABY TRAPPING

What it would be like… baby trapping w/ Gaz…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: BABY TRAPPING

What it would be like… Alex w/ a mommy kink…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: MOMMY KINK

What it would be like…secret relationship w/ Alex…x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: JEALOUSY, RIDING

SERIES

Thinking about…

Thinking about all the times you’ve made Ghost cry x | ♚

Thinking about how Alejandro is the type to tease you for your weapon of choice x | 🎲

Thinking about how Soap would never outright confess that he likes you x | 🎲

Thinking about being in a Polyamorous relationship with Ghost and Soap x | ♔ 🎲

Thinking about how sex with Soap is absolutely ridiculous (in the best way possible) x 🎲

Thinking about old Soap and new Soap x | ♚

ONE SHOTS

Remedial Work x

There seems to be a consensus among your classmates at the police academy that you and Leon don’t get along. However, they couldn’t be more wrong. | ♚

MISC

Soap Alphabet x | ♞

SPITBALLS

What it would be like… titty fucking Peter x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: TITTY FUCKING

What it would be like…… Miguel with a breeding kink x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: BREEDING KINK, BULGE KINK, LACTATION KINK

What it would be like… Miguel during spider mating season x | ♚

CONTENT TAGS: MIGUEL W/ TRAITS OF A SPIDER, INAPPROPRIATE USE OF WEBS

DRABBLES

In which you and Spot try something new….x | ♚

SERIES

Thinking about Miguel and the kinks he likes to indulge in x | ♚ 🎲

Thinking about The Spot and the kinks he likes to indulge in x | ♔ 🎲

Thinking about all the ways you can be intimate with The Spot x | 🎲 ♔

Thinking of all the ways you can be intimate with The Spot x | 🎲 ♚

Thinking about Noir and the kinks he likes to indulge in x | ♚

ONE SHOTS

Finish line x

In which Peter learns that a little bit of encouragement goes a long way | ♚

Color show x

In which Noir wants to learn about colors and you’re more than happy to help | ♚

Laundry day x

In which Peter discovers some unusual perks with laundry day | ♚

Detective’s work x

In which Noir tries to keep you off the streets and you try to keep him inside the sheets | ♚

Workload x

In which you find ways to spend time with your boyfriend Miguel even though he’s busy| ♚

One More Time x

In which both Peter and you learn that one more time doesn’t always mean one more time | ♚

Pillow Talk x

In which Peter, a married man, gets off to the thought of being with someone other than his spouse | ♚

Lights, camera, action x

In which you make it your personal mission to ruin Noir’s career by fucking him | ♚

ONE SHOTS

Nothing compares x

In which it’s your first time with Eddie | ♚

Brainrots, fic ideas, nsfw discussion about characters and hc discussions with my lovely anonies, mutuals and followers x

[elsecrytt]

you fucking hate your job.

unfortunately, you also need it.

some old money family hires you to play housekeeper for their weird ass son. satoru gojo, you think.

he's handsome. just looking at him is a treat; stark white hair, bright blue eyes, a face like an actual idol.

and then he opens his mouth. illusion ruined.

whatever. you don't care that much about his "wow! you really didn't dress up for work, huh?" and "so, let me guess... no boyfriend?" you’ve dealt with worse.

you'd been excited when you got this job. you're broke. the pay is great. you're ready to do anything to not get fired.

you keep the apartment completely spotless, despite how many candy wrappers and packages he leaves around, the disaster that is his stupid fancy bathroom. 

seriously, who leaves soap and shampoo everywhere like that? who jerks off in the shower that often? throws towels around and knocks bottles and toothbrushes over? it's like he's trying to leave a mess.

you do his laundry, which he just leaves on the floor like a goddamn animal. there's some clothes with gross, crusty white on them.

one time, you'd caught him staring at you while you picked it up, smirking all the while.

this is the guy you’re being paid to look after. and you’re fucking trying! god, do you ever try!

you cook meals from scratch, hours-long, intensive processes. you check his fridge, shamelessly dig through his garbage to see what he likes and try to make things he'll enjoy.

he leaves empty boxes of takeout on the counter, your homemade dinner in the trash, untouched.

it's in your contract. you can't not cook for him. and you can't eat anything, either, not when you're terrified of getting fired and he obviously likes to make you miserable

and your landlord just informed you last month - rent will be going up. and not by a small amount.

you'd just finished digging yourself out of one hole and life kicks you right back down.

you don't know how you're going to make rent this month. fuck, you don't even know what you're going to have for dinner. if you can afford dinner. if you can even afford to put the heat on tonight.

it's not even a question. obviously the answer is no.

sitting on the plush, luxury couch in gojo’s apartment, you bury your head in your hands, and cry.

maybe you can get another job? but there's only so many hours in the day. you're so fucking sick of working all the time. you already do.

is it too much to ask for life to cut you a fucking break?

"what's wrong?" your least favorite voice interrupts - and a hand on your shoulder, shaking you, none-too-gently.

"don't tell me..." there's that smugness, "are you cryin'?"

"sorry, i just need a minute." you say, swallowing your anger to look him in the eyes. "i just got some bad news. my landlord is raising the rent next month."

"oh?" his tone is only getting worse, "so what? just move out. or get some roommates, or whatever you poor people do."

god, the fucking mouth on this man.

"soooo? sounds like poor planning on your part," satoru says, casually leaning onto the edge of the couch, "i just don't get why you're crying about it. like, that's kinda pathetic, you know?" he snickers -

SLAP

dead silence. a sting on your hand. satoru's face bent to the side. you don't even regret it. not right now, as angry as you are.

"you-" a rant is just about to spring from your lips, and then -

satoru grabs your hands, pulling them into his, right in front of his face.

his cheeks are dusted red. pretty eyes wide and dilated, fixed on you. mouth twisted in a grin.

you glance down to the front of his pants, where a noticeable bulge has formed.

"do it again."

[luvrrszn]

and they were roommates *

COLLEGE ROOMATE!MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER (18+)

summary miguel o'hara is your roommate, and then he's more than that

warnings [all sexual themes are at the bottom end of the post] explicit/18+ (smut), unprotected sex, dom!miguel, not proofread

a/n (gif posted originally by @/cantstoptheimagines, can't figure out tumblr's gif shit so i'm doing this instead, hope that's okay :)) guys i'm so bad at writing smut please go easy on me also if u have requests PLEASEEE send them in i'm so bored

masterlist

"oi! you left your panties on the countertop again, you goblin! take it back!" miguel yells at you from your shared bathroom.

"my bad." you mumble, a piece of toast in your mouth as you shuffle into the bathroom, in a hurry to grab your underwear off the marble countertop.

miguel watches, amused, as you scramble to get your things together before your 8am class. it's 7:48am, and it takes you at least 15 minutes to drive to campus, and that's if you make every green light on your way there.

you're lacing up your sneakers by the door as miguel pours himself a cup of coffee. he walks over to shut the door behind you after you leave. as you run down the hallway to the elevator, he calls out after you, "buy some juice on the way back, we're out of that."

you give him a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner.

—

you're cooking your favourite homemade meal—pesto pasta. turning off the stove, you turn around to grab a bowl from the shelves. when you turn back around, you see miguel hunched over your pan of pasta, mouth stuffed with food. YOUR food.

you slap him away from the pan, as he feigns hurt, "ow, ow, that hurts. now you gotta give me pasta to make up for it."

"you ate two bowls of instant noodles already, how are you still hungry? get away, boy." you swat his fork away.

"c'mon, please?"

you roll your eyes and give in.

you were never truly going to say no to miguel o'hara. you had cooked enough for two because you knew this was going to happen, and you knew you weren't going to say no to miguel.

—

"miguel! stop using my shampoo! and my lotion! you know they're super expensive, get your own!" you yell at him from the bathroom, inspecting the fullness—or now, emptiness of your body care products.

"hey, mami, what can i say? those are the real deal." he replies, barely looking away from his laptop.

"yeah, and they cost a shit ton. stop using my stuff and go back to your nasty 30-in-1 soap or whatever." you huff, glaring at miguel angrily.

—

saturday evenings are spent at the dining table going over the grocery list, preparing for your weekly sunday grocery runs.

saturday nights are spent on the sofa in the living room, watching a movie.

sunday mornings are spent at the grocery store, wandering down the aisles even though you've been there every sunday for the past year and a half, ever since you moved in with miguel after a mutual friend introduced the two of you upon finding out you were both looking for a roommate.

sunday noons are spent unpacking the bags of groceries, which more often that not contain bags of junk food that miguel somehow managed to sneak into the cart.

sunday afternoons are spent doing laundry. miguel loads the washing machine while you handwash the delicate pieces that require extra care. afterwards, you toss what can be put into the dryer into the dryer while miguel hangs up the rest of the clothes to dry. then, the two of you settle into a comfortable routine of folding laundry.

that's just how it was. every week, without fail.

—

the moment you fell for miguel was when you caught a horrible cold and he took care of you.

despite you trying to shoo him away multiple times, he never gave up.

"come on, princesa. you're sick, let me help you."

"i look like a hot mess right now, miguel. just leave me alone, i'll be okay." barely finishing your sentence, you broke out in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

"no can do. you're sick, so get your ass back into bed. i'll bring you some chicken soup, so for now, just rest." miguel replied, placing a bottle of water and some cold medicine on your bedside table.

when he returned, he found you curled up in your bed, duvet tucked under your chin. he placed the bowl of soup on your bedside table, before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, only to realise that you were burning up.

"take your meds, princesa. you're running a fever."

with his help, you washed your fever medicine down with a gulp of water. then, you snuggled back under the duvet. when miguel turned to leave, your hand shot out from under the duvet, grabbing his wrist. you croaked out a "stay".

without a word, miguel got into bed next to you, slipping his arm under your head. you curled into his chest, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart beating.

—

the moment miguel fell for you was when you left to visit family during summer break and he opened the refrigerator to find each shelf lined with containers of food.

you had left that morning, hand gripping your suitcase handle as you said to miguel, "try not to die, finding a new roommate with such short notice would be hard."

miguel grinned and flipped you the bird as you turned around and disappeared down the hallway to the elevator. closing the door behind him, miguel beelined for the refrigerator. maybe there was some yogurt he could have for a quick breakfast.

upon opening the refrigerator, he found that each shelf was packed containers of home-cooked meals, all prepared by you. well, that answered the question of why the apartment smelled so good when he got home last night.

there were containers of pasta, rice, chicken, salad, whatever you could think of, it was there. turning around, miguel spotted the sticky note you had left on the kitchen island. he picked up the light pink sticky note and read your note.

"seriously though, miggy. try not to die. i'd be a little sad if you did."

he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

—

you are the one who first confesses your feelings. on saturday night, after movie night, you gather all your courage and say, "miguel, look, i-i have to tell you something. and when i do, or even after i do, i need you to promise you won't hate me."

miguel's heart is racing. worries fill his head and his heart, and he can't help but wonder if you are going to tell him that you want to move out. he takes a deep breath, and replies steadily, "i could never hate you. go ahead, princesa."

you turn to look at miguel, and you say, "you're my best friend, and there's nothing i wouldn't do for you. you know that, right?" he nods.

taking in a shaky breath, you continue, "i like you. and it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i can't remember a time where i didn't know you, and i'm not sure i want to either. so if you don't feel the same way, can we at least still stay—"

"shut up," miguel cuts you off.

you're taken aback, stammering, "w-what?"

"just shut up," miguel repeats as he moves towards you, encasing your lips with his. you let out a slight gasp, and miguel takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more. it's hungry and passionate, but also gentle and reassuring. words were no longer needed; words weren't enough for miguel to express how much he liked you back.

you let miguel take control. you surrender, savouring every moment of the kiss.

and it leaves you breathless.

—

from that night on, nothing much changes. but at the same time, everything changes.

your weekend routines remain the same, but throughout the week, there's sex. so. much. sex.

miguel's sex drive is crazy, and you can barely keep up. not that you're complaining.

"miguel," you let out a breathy moan. your left hand is tangled in his hair, your right hand littering his back with scratches. miguel fucks you relentlessly, pulling his hips back and slamming into you in one fluid motion.

his hands slide downwards towards your nipple, and he toys with them, tugging gently and rubbing them between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. one of his hands slides even further downwards, and traps your clit. he rubs slow circles on it, drawing a moan past your lips.

his coordination is crazy, and you're stimulated in all the right places.

miguel senses that you're near your climax, and he speeds up, slamming into you with such tenacity that you almost believe he's in such a rush because the world might be ending in two seconds.

miguel goes faster, rougher, deeper, helping you chase your finish. the knot in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens—then it snaps. you scream miguel's name as you cum all over his cock and go limp, seeing stars from what you think might have been the best orgasm of your life.

still deep in you, miguel feels every contraction of your pussy around his cock. you tighten around him, and after two more strokes of his hips, you're milking his cock for every drop of his cum.

out of breath, you lay there on the bed while miguel cleans up the mess on the bedsheets.

—

that afternoon, as you take out the trash, you bump into your next door neighbour, mrs palma. she looks and you and chuckles, "glad the two of you finally got together, but keep it down, wouldya, sweetheart?"

you turn as red as a tomato.

[northbirdblog]

A refreshing and relaxing sugar scrub to brighten up and smooth out your skin!

[loveletters2myself]

look clean, smell clean, feel clean 🫧🪽🕯️✨🤍

double cleanse your body! wash first with a bar soap, preferably with a wash cloth or wash glove to help with exfoliating all the dirt and sweat from the day. and replace your cloths every day. that’s why i recommend them more than using a regular loofah. those things build up so much bacteria, you’re better off using something you can wash every day. silicone brushes are great too, but do replace them after a few months. scrub well, everywhere. don’t forget neglected areas such as behind the ears, between finger & toes, belly button, etc. finish off with a body wash.

for the lady bits, keep it simple with unscented bar soap only. washing only your vulva. you want to make sure you’re cleansing between all the folds and around (and yes i know, never inside). as controversial as it is, water is not enough. sorry, argue with yourself.

hydrosilk trimstyle razor is a fav for your bikini area. billie razors are also great.

double shampoo your scalp. you’ll notice a difference. add a scalp massager into the mix!

on hair wash days, don’t forget to also wash/disinfect your hair brushes.

you can make a homemade body scrub with honey + brown sugar. lips too! or just use a exfoliating glove.

change your bedsheets weekly!!!

dry brush your body before stepping into your shower. do a few body lymphatic massages after too with a wooden body massager.

you should be brushing your teeth two times a day. flossing as well. don’t forget to give your tongue a clean. invest in a tongue scraper. and mouthwash! therabreath is my fav brand. teeth whiten every 6 months or so, depending on if needed or not. also replace your tooth brushes/heads often as recommended (every 3-4 months).

moisturize everywhere after every shower/bath. i love to lather with both body oil & lotion. don’t forget the neglected areas such as your hands, feet, elbows, etc.

i’m a two deodorant kind of girl. it’s definitely not necessary to use two, but as someone who loves smelling clean, i use both stick & spray.

as repetitive as it sounds, what you eat plays a major part in your overall scent. make sure you’re fuelling your body with good foods. hydration is also important.

find a signature perfume that suits your skin’s ph level. even better if you find a body lotion of that same scent or similar, enhances the smell! extra tip, spray some on your comb before brushing out your hair.

use safe feminine wipes for bathroom use, rael is a great brand for wipes + pads. even better, use a peri bottle.

something i think a lot of people forget to mention, stay on top of your laundry. attitude laundry detergent is great but any works fine. i also like using baking soda or vinegar to remove any odours, especially for my towels. keep small organza bags with lavender inside your closet/drawers to keep the freshness (i’ve seen people also use scent beads but i don’t use those personally). fold them as soon as they’re dry and put it away to avoid wrinkly clothes. spot treat your stains as soon as possible.

you don’t need to get a manicure all the time. however, do maintain your nails by trimming them often, cuticle oiling and scrubbing underneath nails with a small brush in the shower.

build a skincare routine that works for your skin type. keep it minimal, you don’t need an excessive amount of products. cleanser, exfoliant, serum or moisturizer is more than enough, with the occasional spot treatment & mask. not necessary, but i also like shaving my face with a face razor. definitely not something for everyone, as some do claim it makes them break out! so keep that in mind. gua shua your face for lymphatic drainage and overall skin glow.

keep your home clean. a lot of people don’t realize that you can bring around lingering odours from your home onto you.

also, ladies, pay attention to the men you’re being intimate with. make sure they practice good hygiene themselves (this applies for everyone really!). after intimacy, make sure to clean yourself off well too. your ph will thank you. if you’re concerned that your ph levels are off, speak with your gyno/doctor!

note that these tips aren’t for everyone and to follow with your discretion. 🫶🏻

[qveerthe0ry]

With Peace on Earth

Summary: A brief tale of your first Christmas Eve in Jackson Word Count: 2,166 Pairing: Joel Miller x GN! Reader Rating: 18 + Explicit (but not super descriptive smut) Warnings: 18+ mdni, established relationship, fluff, post-outbreak/Jackson, oral (m and gn receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, fingering (gn receiving), finger sucking, spit as lube, Joel is handsy, soft!joel, no y/n, no physical description of reader, reader is gender neutral, description of reader having a mother when they were young, reader celebrates Christmas, reader has no age, a tiny bit of sadness, nostalgia, no beta, let me know if I missed anything! Note: I wrote this very quickly to try and alleviate the writer's block because I have about 15 Pedro character WIPs (mostly Joel) and have yet to complete a single one. I also wrote this to express my feelings about how the holidays haven't really felt very magical for me for a while, but adopting new traditions has helped me find the magic again.

The streetlights are reflecting off of the fresh layer of snow. Despite it being the dead of night, the white ground makes everything just a bit brighter. The air is dry, and it smells like pine and open fires and for a second, when you focus really hard, it’s Christmas Eve, pre-apocalypse. 

You can remember it plain as day. You can feel the air like it was yesterday, that palpable excitement as you spread a mixture of oats and glitter and sequins across your childhood front yard. 

“So the reindeer know where to land Santa’s sleigh,” your mom had told you. 

You can feel the warmth of her hand enveloping your tiny, freezing fingers. The warmth of her voice, of her gaze on you. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, try to remember that happy memories can be just that— and not a cruel taunting of the way things used to be and how different they are now. 

You don’t realize how cold you actually are until two warm arms wrap around you, and hot breath creeps down the collar of your long johns. 

“Gonna catch your death,” Joel mumbles. 

You lean back into him, close your eyes, and take a big, deep breath. You smell the snow and the chimney smoke but also homemade oat soap and lavender laundry wash and it isn’t like it used to be, but maybe that doesn’t have to mean it’s worse. 

“Was hoping I’d see Santa fly over,” you say, distracted, watching the stars in the crisp winter sky. 

“You think he made it through all these years?” 

Joel chuckles as he says it, and wraps his arms a tad tighter around you. 

“I like to think so,” you shrug. 

His soft laughter turns into a hum, turns into lips pressed under your ear. 

“I love the way you are.” 

It’s sweet. It’s sticky, nauseating words coming from a man you never thought would be anything but cold and calculated, when you first met. It warms you all the way through, maybe even melts some of the snow that’s blown its way onto the porch you’re standing on. 

You want to say it back, want to tell him how much you love the way he is, the way his guarded heart shines through the cracks so bright it blinds you, the way his smiles make you weak so that it’s a good thing he’s so stingy with them. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask instead. 

He takes a long moment to respond. You can feel his teeth grinding together where his jaw is hooked over your shoulder, and the way his breath is coming in less than slow and steady. 

“Just— It’s 20 years into the end of the world and you still have hope.” 

You sigh and turn your head, seeking out his stubbled cheek, and press a kiss to the wind burnt skin. 

“I found you after all this time, didn’t I?” 

He huffs, and it sounds amused. You turn a bit in his hold to look at his eyes and the way his eyebrows gather together in the middle. 

“And this is a blessing, not a curse?” 

You want to kiss the skeptical look off of his face, so you do, hooking your arms around his neck and capturing his bottom lip between your own. 

You feel the warmth of his palms through your shirt as they splay out across your back, fingers digging, working the muscles there like he’s kneading bread. You hum into his mouth and let your fingers tangle in the soft curls at the nape of his neck just as his tongue finds yours. 

You can feel him slowly filling out his worn jeans where his hips press into your own and you think, with a chuckle you can’t contain, that this is the only Christmas gift you want from now on. 

He pulls away at your soft laughter, his own eyes twinkling with an edge of humor. 

“Are you stallin’ or somethin’?” 

You shake your head as a smile splits your face from ear to ear. 

“Never. Always a blessing, babe,” you tell him. 

Your hands drop from his neck quickly to grab two handfuls of his ass and squeeze, and he glares at you as you press him just that much closer to you. 

“I’ll give you a blessing,” he grumbles. 

His head ducks down so that his lips can find your pulse point, and then his teeth, a playful nip with a hint of something more desperate and charged. 

“Better not give the whole neighborhood an eye full,” you warn, half-heartedly. You know most people are asleep, and you know neither you nor Joel would really mind it. 

Still, on the off-chance Tommy and Maria are still awake across the street, you don’t need to give the town leader any fuel for retaliation. 

His breath comes out in whisps of steam around your face, minty with notes of whiskey. 

“Go on ‘n get, then. Warm up by the fire.”

And you know by now not to protest, not when your prize for obeying is so worth being bossed around by the grumpy old man. 

You undress by the fire and look around the living room while Joel makes sure the house is locked up. 

It’s not quite decorated like an old Christmas movie, but it’s still festive, still as warm and full of cheer as you remember from before. 

There’s a Christmas branch, really, a small little bush that Ellie had brought home to you a few weeks before. You had spent the day looking around for scraps of anything red, some ribbon, the sleeve of an old t-shirt, some berries on a bush that you were certain weren’t edible. You both worked on decorating the Charlie Brown-esque tree as Joel watched, grumbling, but plucking away at a rendition of ‘Oh Christmas Tree’ on his guitar as he complained. 

There are three big socks hung up on the mantle of the fireplace, Joel’s, who griped about having to give up the precious fabric while he decorated them with you and Ellie at the kitchen table. ‘Decorated’ used lightly, as you only had a few errant pipe cleaners and the guts of a few raspberries as a red/pink dye. 

And then there’s the whittled reindeer Joel had presented to you just days ago with a shy look on his face you don’t see very often. The wood is smooth and the antlers are intricate, and even though you can’t see it, you know there’s a little heart carved into the bottom of its back left hoof. It’s your favorite decoration out of all of them, displayed lovingly and proudly on the coffee table. 

You grab an old blanket from the back of the couch and lay it in front of the fire just as Joel finds you again. His footsteps are lighter without his heavy boots on, and his fingers don’t feel as warm now as they grab your hips. 

“Gonna lay down for me?” 

His voice is low and gruff and calm, and all you can do is obey, and lie down naked on the fleece. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him undress. The light of the fire makes all of his golden skin look even more so, dancing an orange glow across his scarred stomach and sparsely haired chest and the contrasting hardness and softness of his form that’s so familiar now. 

You touch yourself gently as you watch him, light strokes, just to tease while you wait for him. With a grunt, he gets down to share the warm blanket with you, rolling you onto your side to face the flames. 

“You remember that Mariah Carey Christmas song?” he asks as his rough hand curls around your hip. 

You hide your smile in your own arm before answering. 

“Not sure if I do. Sing a few bars for me.” 

He groans and squeezes your flesh. 

“You're pullin’ my leg."

“Yeah, I remember it.” 

Remembering songs post-apocalypse is strange, the way you can not hear it for decades but still remember every note and word. Now, ringing through your head, is the high register of All I Want for Christmas is You, and you hum the chorus as Joel’s heavy prick presses against the small of your back. 

“That’s how I feel,” he tells you.

His hand gets bolder, travels to the place where your thigh and hip meet, and then farther, between your legs, where it’s quite obvious what you want for Christmas, too. 

“I feel the same, Joel.” 

His breath puffs against your neck as he nuzzles that tender place behind your ear. He doesn’t often talk about his feelings for you, electing rather to show them through gestures. You like when he says it though, it makes it feel even more tangible, makes a nostalgic warmth tingle throughout your guts and your chest. 

“Have you been good this year?” he asks you, a hint of mischief in his voice that makes you giggle. 

“I think I have, yeah.” 

“Debatable,” he grumbles, “but I guess you won’t get a lump of coal.” 

He gets you on your back, and your breath hitches as he covers you with his big, solid body. His skin feels so incredible against yours, always, every time you’re together like this. 

He starts to press open-mouthed kisses down your body, a searing hot trail across your most sensitive spots, until he’s mouthing around where you want him most. 

“Please, baby, please.”

You know he likes to hear you beg for it. His sweet brown eyes find yours as he smiles, and the warmth of his gaze and the fire start to pull little pinpricks of sweat from your pores. 

But he doesn’t tease you for long. You watch with wonder as his graying curls bounce between your legs, his attentive mouth working you tenderly but thoroughly. Your hand tangles in his hair for purchase as you lift your hips to urge him on. 

He’s always so sloppy with it, and his saliva drips down onto the blanket, and you love it like this, so messy and haphazard, with no regard to anything but making you feel good, getting you off. 

His fingers, three of them, tap at your parted lips. They’re so big as you take them in and swirl your tongue around them, getting them nice and wet, and your own spit seeps from the corners of your mouth. He groans, and you can feel it with his mouth on you. 

His hips make small little moves to rut against the blanket between your open legs, and you want him inside, need to feel him inside you. 

You tell him this much, though it’s muffled with his fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t let up until you’re teetering on the edge, moaning and whimpering around his flesh, gripping his hair so tight you don’t know how you haven’t pulled it out. 

You whine when his mouth retreats. 

“I know, I know. So greedy for it,” he coos, teasing. 

You scowl at him, but it holds no heat, and he laughs at your impatience as he coaxes you back onto your side. 

Behind you, Joel’s chest is solid and sweaty against your back. His fingers are solid too, sure but gentle, as he works them inside one by one to open you up with the help of your drool. 

“So good for me. What a present,” he tells you. 

It makes you impossibly hotter, and impossibly more in love with the man, and impossibly more impatient. 

“I want my present now,” you sigh. 

He tuts at you, against your shoulder blade, but you know he won’t deny you for longer because you can feel him leaking all over the skin of your back. 

When he presses into you, slow as ever, you feel even more full than you usually do. 

“Yes,” you pant, “like that. Just what I wanted.” 

He fills you over and over, a leisurely but steady pace, and his hands roam across your slick, heated skin. As his body presses against yours, and as he reaches around to work you to your climax, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed at the realization that things are okay, things are great, and they’re allowed to be, despite the state of everything. 

When you come, he comes too, deep inside you. His teeth bare down on your shoulder, and he grunts your name into your skin, and he tells you you’re perfect, and that you’re so good to him.

Joel doesn’t move far, after. He grabs an article of discarded clothing to clean you up. You know his back must kill like this, on the floor, but his happy breaths across your cooling skin make you think that this must be worth a little pain in the morning. 

And when he sleepily mumbles, “Merry Christmas, Darlin’,” it sounds a lot more like “I love you.”

[moon4nge1]

- Osamu Miya Headcanons!!

✧ ☽ ✧

His Features/Expressions!

⤻ prettiest smile!! -this boy has one of the most beautiful smiles! He instantly gets 10x more attractive, his friends wonder why he doesn’t actually do it often. Trust, the fan girls will drop dead if they ever saw it.

⤻ his roots showing -Samu actually doesn’t mind when his dark roots peak through his grey hair. But when they become way much more noticeable, then he’ll get them touched up. He used to trust you with this, but after making him go platinum for a week….let just say he’ll rather spend 20 bucks.

⤻ dimples!! -him and Tsumu have the cutest set of dimples! It’s a shame he doesn’t show them off as much.

⤻ natural frown -when Samu is lazing around, his face contorts to a frown! He isn’t actually sad, it’s just his resting face. When his fan base was starting, many admires gifted him many things to “cheer him up”. He thought they were weird.

⤻ scent of ocean spray + laundry soap! -THIS MAN SMELLS SO GOOD!! You’ll catch him smelling like sweat outside the gym. Many of his teammates were surprised at his smell that they even went out to buy his very same laundry soap!

His Backpack!

⤻ bento boxes/homemade snacks! -he cannot leave the house without one or the other! He actually has many bento boxes because his teammates beg him for his food!

⤻ phone charger -because practices runs super late, he uses that time to charge his phone!

⤻ deodorant, knee pads, bandages, and pain relief cream!!! -even though the locker room his stacked with these, he still likes to have them on hand! Especially after one practice Tsumu complained all the way home about his aching arms and sore fingers.

⤻ one notebook -yes he uses one notebook for all eight of his classes. And he somehow knows where everything is?? One time a classmate asked for his notes, the ended up failing the test; no one asked him after that.

Lover Boy!

⤻ love language = gifting you food -mostly the foods are all his! Like if he made something extra in the kitchen, he’ll be sure to bring you the leftovers the next day! He used to hand feed you these foods, but after shoving the spoon too far in, he lost your trust.

⤻ big on holding hands!! -whenever you guys are out in public, his hand immediately goes to yours. It’s to a point where he’s not even thinking about it, it’s a natural reaction! His hands are a little rough from volleyball, but they still feel nice against yours regardless.

⤻ “babe” or “princess” -his pet names for you! ‘Babe’ is always his go to. Most of his sentences to you contain ‘babe’ in it. He only used “princess” when he’s being super sweet or teasing you. “Come on princess, use your words” he teasingly whispered in your ear.

⤻ will hand feed you his new recipes! -this goes with his love language! In all honesty, you’re still weary when he puts a utensil near your mouth. He doesn’t mind you feeding yourself, but he feels it’s more intimate when he does it! Most of the times to get you to eat his food, he has to take it off the utensil.

⤻ cooking dates + picnics dates >> -you guys will playfully have a small coking competition. It then turns very competitive, and you both are sabotaging the other; the food does not turn out good! He plans the picnic in the afternoon! You guys watch the sun go down, and then stargaze together!

©moon4nge1 - please do not steal, copy, or repost on any other platforms without my permission!

✧ ☽ ✧ ps. I had accidentally deleted my account! So I’m having to rewrite everything! If you had already saw this, then I would appreciate it if you liked it again! T-T

[comfortabletextiles]

I thought, that I should probably look at how much weight the fleece lost, after cleaning. And also give a soft of report about the amount of water and energy used, and his clean it got.

Under the cut, because looooooong

Roughly 100g raw fleece, cleaned with unicorn power scour made 75,29g of fiber

Very clean, zero amount of oil or lanolin can be feeled, smells like wool and a but like the power scour. Doesn't feel felted. The ends are a tad yellow

Recourses: Used 2 liters if the hottest available tabwater (47°C), 3,8g of unicorn power scour and roughly 8 liter of hot water to rinse (around 38°C-40°C).

Work: let it soak and rinse it out. Very easy, not much Equipment or brain power needed

Roughly 100g raw fleece, cleaned with homemade chestnut detergent made 77,50g of fiber

Still dirt left, we'll see how it cleans out while combing and caring, there seems to be a minimal amount of lanolin left, but it's so little I am not Shure. Ends are almost brown. Also smells kind of bad

Recourses: 5 chestnuts peeled and cut, simmered with 300ml for 15 minutes, 2l of my hottest tab water, around 8 liters for rinsing.

Work: collecting, Peeling and cutten the chestnuts, then soaking and rinsing the wool.

Roughly 100g raw fleece, cleaned with potash made 79,95g of fiber

Very clean, no traces of oil or lanolin. Smells like clean wool, ends very compacted still, also the most felted from all the projects (not badly felted though)

Recourses: 60g potash (had to order it online, not even the alternative apothecary had it), 3 liter of cold water to rinse it beforehand, 2 liter of hot water to simmer it, something to simmer the wool in and 6 liter to rinse

Work: the most workintens process, aquire the potash, rinse the wool, simmer it (but not to hot, so you need something to monitor the temperature) rinse it again... but you can reuse the potash water lots. So good if you want to clean lots of wool, but I think it's also the one where you can make the most mistakes...

Roughly 50g raw fleece, cleaned with dish soap made 39,67g of fiber

No lanolin left, smells clean, not too yellow, but some dirt was left. Not felted

Recourses: around a table spoon of dish soap, 2 liter of hot tabwater, 4 liter of tabwater to rinse

Work: soak and rinse very easy

Roughly 50g raw fleece, cleaned with wool fiber detergent made 38,85g of fiber

Very clean, almost now yellowijg, smells like wool and hint of the detergent we use, not felted

Recourses: 60ml (one serving?) Of wool laundry detergent, 2 liter of hot tab water and 6 liter to rinse

Work: soak and rinse again

Now to the most Interesting method imo!

The suint fermentation

Roughly 50g raw fleece, cleaned with fermentating it in destilled water made 40,31g of fiber

Very clean, despite some lanolin left, the whitest of them all, not felted very soft, smells the most like wool (it's a bit dirty because I dropped it on the balcony floor)

Recourses: well I bouth a black bucket with a lid So I can do it without smell attacking my neighbors, 2 liter of destilled water (or rain water, but I can't really collect that) 4 liter to rinse (same temperature as the suint bath

Work: fill the bucket with water and wool. Then wait, rinse and let it dry in the sun (so it goes faster) I didn't mind the smell to much. You mostly smell it when you open the bucket and while rinsing, after that it vanished very fast. Needed the least amount of energy.

Roughly 50g raw fleece, cleaned with fermentating it in hard tab water made 40,66g of fiber

A bit more lanolin that the destilled water. Not Shure if that is due to the harder water or that the weather got colder and I had to stop. Very soft to the touch. A bit more yellow in the tips than the destilled water and smells like wool but in an unpleasant way (not really bad, but also nothing I want to shove my nose into)

Recourses: same as destilled water but ran water

Work: also same as destilled water

All in all, I loved the fermentation the most, also I heard that you can store the bath over a year, so you can make it in time warm season and just store it for the next?? Very cool. Feels raw in the same way that spinning the locks without combing or carding. 10/10 also very recourses friendly, doesn't take lots of energy (body, brain and electric) and the least amount of work (the most work I had with it was setting up my very safe totally not dangerous way of drying it)

My least favorite was the potash, it's lots of extra steps like: getting everything out of storage to simmer it, get some potash (that you'll need lots of) let it simmer for 8 minutes, let it rest for 8 and then rinse! If you have a dedicated space for it, it could be very easy, but I don't have that space 😬

Unicorn power scour is also good. Got it very clean, was very easy and no unpleasant smells, also very fast.

[terabyteturtle]

Fighter #09 - Luigi

- Luigi’s kinda scared of portrait paintings. He hates going past the 'Everyone Is Here' mural in the first floor hallway because he feels like Sora’s eyes are following him.

- He usually gets put on laundry duty. The laundry machines in the mansion are super high-tech with tons of random settings, so when Luigi first saw them, he got really confused. He nearly blew up the dryer twice trying to figure out which button started the wash.

- A history buff, Luigi has read every historical book he could find in the library.

- Back in the day, Luigi actually developed and sold his own energy drink. It was an instant hit, but then Waluigi convinced him to take a bad deal and he lost the rights to everything.

- His favorite chore to do around the mansion is vacuuming. He's had plenty of experience with a vacuum from both practical and impractical standpoints.

- He gets flustered when someone compliments him, especially if that someone is Daisy.

- Luigi is, without a doubt, the king of belly flops.

- He has a hidden talent for modeling. 

- He’s honestly surprised by how many fans he has. He thought Mario would get all the attention (not that he minds, he usually doesn’t like being in the spotlight anyway).

- Luigi still gets scared easily, but he’s built up a stronger fear tolerance thanks to the multiple haunted locations he's been in.

- He was bullied back in high school, but now those bullies look up to him.

- Roy ruthlessly teases him all the time, but it's all in good nature.

- He prefers his birthdays to be celebrated in a low-key way, but living in Smash Mansion makes that impossible.

- He used to have severe arachnophobia. Once, Roy captured a spider and dangled it in front of Luigi's face to freak him out. It worked, but it worked a little too well. Luigi jumped so high from being scared that his head hit the ceiling. He had to stay in bed for a couple days afterward. Roy ordered him some pizza as an apology. Since then, Luigi was able to overcome his fear of spiders.

- This poor guy has a lot of nightmares, as well as some confusing dreams. One of his strangest ones was of Incineroar chasing him on a treadmill. He has no idea what that was about.

- He takes melatonin gummies every night.

- Luigi sleepwalks a lot and usually wakes up to find himself outside.

- He formed a drama club with Robin, Chrom, Lucina, Hero, Zelda, Byleth, Marth, and Rosalina. They invited a couple more fighters to join, but those are still pending. They get together every week and perform plays with each other. They're really enthusiastic about it; they have homemade costumes and everything.

- He has a bowtie collection. Each one is for a different occasion, some of which are extremely specific. One of his favorites is a green one with white polka dots, which is worn only for eating pizza on a Thursday.

- Luigi is better at pinball than Waluigi. The scrawny villain refuses to admit it, but it's true.

- For their first date, Luigi and Daisy went strawberry picking.

- Luigi is a menace with a water gun during the summertime. Seriously, this dude has a sniper shot.

- He gets sunburns easily and could probably burn in fluorescent lighting if he tried hard enough. One time, Ridley wanted to be mean and see how long it took for him to get a sunburn. When Luigi wasn't looking, he snatched his sunscreen. It only took about ten minutes for Luigi to become as red as a lobster. Ridley was quite literally rolling on the floor, howling with laughter. For the rest of that week, he couldn't pass Luigi in the hallway without snickering.

- Luigi has sensitive skin, so he uses special soaps, creams, and lotions that are nice and delicate. All of them are scented with tea tree oil.

- Waluigi keeps trying to steal his girl. Bro thinks that if he just gives her a rose and a flashy smile, she'll fall head over heels with him. He believes that he has what the kids call "W Rizz". Luigi's secretly jealous because he thinks Waluigi has more charm than he does. Because of this, he’s kinda scared that Daisy will leave him, but in reality, he has nothing to worry about—Daisy loves this adorable dork. Besides, Waluigi's the type of guy to actually like the scent of Axe Body Spray. Him and Wario both.

- Inuit kisses (nose nuzzles) and boops on the nose are Luigi and Daisy's primary forms of affection.

- Mario constantly has to remind him that Diddy Kong is DK's nephew, not his son.

- He and Mario used to be paper boys when they were younger. Whenever Luigi sees a newspaper, he gets nostalgic.

- He cries every time he watches a sad movie.

- Luigi ate a bad shroom outside once and had the weirdest trip ever. He honestly doesn't remember much about it other than that it was weird. Diddy Kong found him lying outside muttering something about a big, black tumbleweed coming to take his soul.

- He can pop his shoulder out of his socket at will.

- He can also make fart noises with his armpit. Mario's been jealous of this since the third grade.

- Whenever he greets somebody, he uses finger guns.

- Whenever he takes a shower, he blasts music and quietly sings along.

- Bewear is his buddy. Luigi wants to hug him so badly, but doesn't want to get his spine crushed.

- He dropkicked Wario once for insulting Daisy. After that, he kept Daisy's name out of his mouth for good.

- His favorite song from the Smash soundtrack is the Luigi’s Mansion main theme from Ultimate. This went from a tune he sang when he was scared to a song he plays when he's about to get crafty on the battlefield.

[eggcompany]

Willow Graham Part 2

It was easy to be in love with Willow. She still liked to schedule appointments with Hannibal, usually at lunch time when she could eat with him or take a nap on the chaise. He told her that she didn’t need to and that he kept time open so she could just come see him, but she found it more fun to make appointments. 

“ I thought you were a professional, Doctor Lecter.” She’d said to him once as she rinsed her mouth out after crawling under his desk to ‘help him relax’. Hannibal had laughed at her, leaning back relaxed in his chair, pants barely done back up. 

She had smiled at him and shook her head. 

“Did you mistake me for an honest woman, Doctor? Or am I too wild for your taste?” She asked as he fixed her heavy knit green dress where it had hiked up to her undershorts. She looked like the image of good , knee length green dress with full sleeves and a high neck, thick black stockings, brown boots, and her head covered by a matching beret. 

“I would never mistake you for anything other than what you are, Willow.” He replied, combing back his hair and fixing his clothes to look presentable. He stood up and smoothed out his pants as she made her way to stand in front of him, her fingers coming to trace around the buttons on his waistcoat. 

“And what am I?” She asked lowly, her eyes following her own finger as it traced up the edge of his vest to pick at his shirt collar. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing her eyes to his. 

“Something terrible, a monster, a beast so wild and vicious not even the bravest soldier dare cross, you’re beautiful Willow.” He said and pressed a kiss to the smile that had graced her lips. She pulled away from him, giving him a suspicious look. 

“I’m terrible because I’m pretty?” She asked, she knew this was a dance, another twisting swaying motion between them with words. 

“You are terrifying because you, Willow, are so beautiful. Everyone fears a beautiful woman.” Hannibal said as he placed his hands on her hips and her arms came up to rest on his shoulders. She huffed a laugh and closed her eyes, letting her head rest on his shoulder. 

“You’re a whore for me, Doctor Lecter, did you know?” She said in a sweet voice, it was such a romantic soft scene and Hannibal could help but snicker, hiding his smile in her hair. Of course she would say that . 

“There are worse things to be, my sweet Willow” He answered and they stayed there until the alert went off saying he had another patient. 

--

Willow Graham. Willow Graham . Willow Graham . It was scattered across hundreds of pages of messy sketches and detailed portraits and smudged charcoal art. Hannibal had been… oddly stressed. He hadn’t felt so alive, so in love, so… human in so long. Willow had moved into his home, making herself happily at home. She had her own soap, her toothbrush that she left on the counter, her laundry in a basket by the washing machine, her bags of chemically crunchy snacks sat in the cupboard next to his own homemade food, she was in every inch of the house so casually. And it was… suffocating in the best way. 

Hannibal often found himself doodling aimlessly on his notes. He’d sit in the library and try to read but she’d float by in the corner of his eye, walking by the doorway in a pair of tiny sleep shorts and one of his shirts, and it was like a siren song, he had to get up and seek her out, just to watch her sit at the kitchen table eating bagel chips and reading essays. 

He’d gotten used to sweeping the floors more often as well. He hated sweeping. But Willow often cruised around the house, just walking around because if not she couldn’t sleep, with a bag of something in her hand. 

Whether it be small garlicky croutons that Hannibal had planned to put with their salads or a ziplock full of dry cereal or some other horrible treat that she’d always offer to Hannibal knowing he could turn it away. Somehow she always had a trail of crumbs following behind her. 

So Hannibal turned away the toxic snacks and swept the floors more and vacuumed the rugs in silence. 

He’d gotten used to being hit in his sleep but also getting the best sleep of his life and waking up to Willow practically begging for a nice fucking. He’d wake up earlier and get to pet down her bare skin, savoring how warm she was, enjoying the comfort that came from her scent. She’d given up on wearing anything but underwear to bed, she tossed it off or got tangled in it during the night anyway. 

The best days were the days when they’d go to bed and Willow would wake up earlier, claiming sometimes she needed private time to shave and such. Hannibal would take a few minutes to stretch out in bed, savor the leftover smell of sex and Willow’s sweaty pillow, and make the bed back up or strip it if it was time. 

What made them so good would be the quiet click of the bathroom door unlocking, followed by the shower turning on. Willow would sometimes get started by herself, her hand going down to her cock or fingers finding her hole. She’d be standing under the water, completely ignoring Hannibal as he brushed his teeth and slid the glass door open and closed. 

It was a sweet slow kind of occurrence. Long kisses, teasing, playful banter flowing easily between them. Hannibal always complimenting her soft skin and gorgeous body. Willow always felt the most vulnerable there, under the bright light, water washing away any pretty perfume or make up. She never feared though because Hannibal was always there to say what a wonderful woman she was as he got down on his knees for her. 

He’d lay hundreds of sweet kisses to her soft belly and take her into his mouth, easily fitting it without much trouble. He loved how close he felt to dying in those moments. How she could kill him right there if she wanted. And Willow would just be so pretty and make a whiney noise and fill his mouth with bitter watery cum. He loved it, loved the way she would always apologize and return the favor with a sloppy handjob. He loved the way her taste stayed in his mouth until breakfast, loved the way she’d gently wash his hair after, making the track lines from her grip disappear. 

It was… the best way to live. The best way he could ever survive life. 

Instead of living surrounded by his own smell, living quietly, he lived in a cloud of Willow’s sweet apple scented lotion and her heavy footsteps. He found himself smiling more, considering each action before making it, going more places more often.

He used to go to the museum every so often, he’d occasionally visit art exhibits, traveling to see new installations. He went to the opera almost once a year, he went to the theater a few times a year. 

He loved it. He loved calming evenings indulging in high society. 

Willow really didn’t. Sure she liked going and watching the shows and walking around the museums. It was something Hannibal liked so she went along with it. However she pushed him to go to other places. 

“ Hanni, let's go to the dog park. I want a hot dog and to pet the puppies! ” She’d beg him until they made their way, hand in hand, to sit on the bench in the dog park. Hannibal would often just sit and watch her rather than the dogs as they ran around. He’d love to listen to her ranting about dog breeds or class, he’d appreciate the beautiful atmosphere of joy and excitement, and he’d enjoy the fresh air. It was Willow’s favorite place to visit, just to sit and chat and pet some dogs and eat cheap hotdogs. 

“ Hanni, take me to the river. I want to go fishing, take me fishing.” She’d ask and they’d pack a large picnic basket and drive way out to one of her favorite spots. It was very out of the way and secluded, only an old wooden picnic table to mark it as a public space. She’d go stand in the water, looking stunning like a painting, sun beaming off her face. And Hannibal would read a book and guard the catch basket. They’d lay out a nice meal of sandwiches and salads and such. Sometimes she’d stay out until the sun fell from the sky and Hannibal would have to carry her back into the house, her bones filled with exhaustion. 

But what most happened was the one place Willow was her happiest. 

“ Hanni, I want to go to the aquarium. Do you want to come with me?” She would go whether or not he did. She’d spend hours talking with curators and watching the anemones, she’d sit and watch the sting rays flap around their tank. Her favorite part was the biggest tank, she’d walk back and forth all around watching the fish dart around, watching the pufferfish look for treats, but she really loved the groupers that laid at the bottom. She’d kneel down in front of the glass and look at them, eyes twinkling like midnight stars. 

Hannibal was content to follow her around, listening to her recite the same facts over and over each time, helping her dry her hands off when she occasionally wanted to try and pet the stingrays. They went a few times each month, whether to help her calm down or cheer her up or just for fun. Each time she was filled with the same joy and excitement. They must’ve gone a thousand times. 

-----

“I love you Willow” Hannibal said, kneeling down on the dirty floor, it was a quiet day… mostly because he bought most of the tickets for this time slot but still. He looked up at her, plush box pulled open, golden ring shone in the light, small diamonds twinkling. A woman gasped across the tank but Willow… kept looking at the tank as a sea cucumber moved slightly. 

“I love you too!” She chirped happily and kept her eyes on the creature. Hannibal stared at her for a moment,  smile widening on his lips. She really was something else, and this was just proving that even more. 

“No- Willow~” He said in a sing-song way, unmoving even as a few people stared at them. He watched as her hands met the glass to point past the sea cucumber. 

“Look, it's a grouper!” She said excitedly and bounced up and down on her feet. Hannibal just watched her be happy for a moment longer before shaking his head. 

“Willow Henrietta Graham look at me” He stated plainly and watched as her head turned before her eyes caught up, still glued to the fish. 

“Hm? Oh my god.” She said, staring down at him. He was… a ring… Hannibal, ring, boyfriend, boyfriend, fiance…

“I love you Willow, will you marry me?” He asked, back straight, ring before him, anxiety tightening his chest in a way that he’d never experienced before. She stared at him, eyes big dashing between the ring and his patient face. 

“You! Yes! Oh my god! You terrible man, yes!” She finally forced out and tackled him into a hug on the ground. He pulled them both up to stand, her arms squeezing him tightly around the middle.  

“You’re awful! Just awful!” She said as tears slid down her face. He pulled her up into a chaste kiss, a few people clapping in joy for them. He pulled back, giddy smile on his face, a feeling sparkling through his entire being. He felt like a sparkler was lit in his heart. 

Willow cried and cried as he slid the ring onto her finger. She was grinning though at the golden band with five small diamonds embedded. He got her the perfect ring. She hated big clunky jewelry, and he picked out a plain golden band with stones that wouldn’t catch. 

“It’s perfect.” She whispered and admired the ring. Hannibal was glad, relieved, he wanted to get her something beautiful and extravagant and sparkling but… she didn’t like that kind of thing so he went and chose a petite, low profile ring. 

“May I take you to dinner, my fiance, dear?” Hannibal asked, holding her hands in his. She sniffled and hugged him again. She whispered up in his ear. 

“You better eat fast. Consummation of this engagement is the only thing I want for dessert.” She whispered and started pulling him to the exit. Hannibal felt lava start to puddle in his stomach. 

They did of course have a long luxurious meal at one of Hannibal’s favorite restaurants. And Willow had laughed and smiled and showed off her ring, she ate her cake when it came to the table, and she drank the sweet champagne. 

But when they got home she was much less patient. Pulling at Hannibal’s clothes until they were both nearly naked halfway through the house, she pulled him by his hand to the bedroom, where she pulled him over her onto the bed. 

“Are you trying to make an honest woman of me? I don’t think it’s working.” She said teasingly as she took her cock into her hand, ring sparkling in the low light. Hannibal licked over her cock and hand before surging up the bed to catch her lips. 

“You’re more than any honest woman. You are more than anything else in this entire creation, you’re the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.” Hannibal said, kneeling between her spread thighs. Willow pulled him down to nip and kiss from his lips to his ear. 

“I am a beautiful woman. I’ve ensnared you, my weak man.” Willow replied and they ended up laughing at each other. 

Each movement was slow and tender, savoring and full of love. It was love making and when they fell asleep that night it wasn’t as partners or just lovers. They were promised to each other, for life. 

---

Hannibal planned a perfect wedding. A perfect wedding for them both. It was planned, date set, everything was ready…. In two months. They sent out few invites, Hannibal inviting his friends and a few other doctors who he enjoyed the company of. Willow invited a few people and tacked up a few invites in her classroom, kids coming in and congratulating her. 

Her students were more and more excited. They would come by and ask about the wedding, dreamy eyes jealous of her. Most of them were girls who dreamed of marriage and wedding dresses and fancy cakes, some were boys who loved their teacher and wanted to show their support for her in all ways. 

She spoke about where it was going to be held, how dress shopping was a disaster but she had a few friends who’d go with her, and of course she gushed occasionally about how she couldn’t wait to be a bride. 

---

Though she was already a bride. For fun. 

Hannibal had come home late, a conference had ended late and he was buzzing with life. He’d gotten a notification on his phone saying that Willow was waiting for him. He hoped that meant she was laying across their bed because he was all colors of pent up. 

However when he got through the entryway and made his way to look into the library he was taken back. In the best way. 

She was standing beside his chair, lightly off, only light coming from the crackling flame in the fireplace. A short white mesh robe flowed around her, bottom and sleeves ruffled. She had a pair of small diamond earrings in and her lips were painted a crimson red. Through the robe he could see she had on white lingerie, stockings that hugged her legs, a matching garter belt up on her waist, panties that had a heart cut out in the back, and a simple lace bra that had ruffled along the bottom. 

She looked nervous as he looked her over, hunger filled eyes staring her down like a predator hunting prey. 

“I um…” She tried and turned to face him, the closest thing she’d ventured to lingerie before was a bra that had lace on it. She was a bit nervous, hoping that her bulge wasn’t… ruining it. 

“Um… Do you like it?” She asked and Hannibal was taking wide strides to grab her hips and swing her around, bending her back, kissing a bruning kiss to her lips. She put her arms around his neck as she pressed more and more kisses to her lips. 

“Am I that pretty of a bride?” She asked and Hannibal was laying her down on the floor. He straddled her, looking down at the way her hair, now grown into a bit of a bob, haloed around her head and her robe spread out under her. 

“You’re more than just a bride, Willow, you’re something crafted in the heavens, stuck down for me to ravish.” He said and ravish… is an understatement. There on the library floor, Willow was a bride for the first time. And second… and well… they woke up on the floor too and who needs to count. 

----

Willow was a princess on her wedding day. 

She had a big poofy dress with a train and a bouquet and a veil that couldn’t hide the biggest smile Hannibal had ever seen. 

They were married in front of a great old oak tree, and Willow promised herself to the doctor. They’d joked that they should be married in front of a willow tree but… they way the forest opened up and the trail to the tree was so beautiful, they couldn’t pass it up. 

Hannibal was wearing a well fitted white tuxedo that Willow had picked out because ‘ You’re gonna look so fit!’ . She thought he looked like a treat, glowing with joy as he stood in their small altar. She walked down the aisle and half of the party started screaming and clapping… she blushed and shook her head. Her kids. 

Hannibal's side was full of fancy people dressed in fancy clothes. Women wearing veiled hats and shoes that cost as much as her dress. They were all emotionless and drab. They all looked so… serious. 

However- 

Willow’s side was full of 67 students all wearing green, her favorite color. Most in just plain cheap cotton blouses and button ups some had cardigans or blazers pulled on too but they all looked… like regular people. Even as they let out loud hoots and hollers, clapping loudly. They had all came up to her and asked if they could attend her wedding, all talking about how they’d go to the store and find shirts and stuff so they could look nice. They’d asked her opinion on everything, some of them never have gone to a wedding before. 

They had all come, bags and boxes, gifts piled up in the event hall that was off the highway before the road that led to the forest. She asked for one thing, food and snacks. She’d told them that Hannibal was a food buff and that she needed to fill a cabinet with as much chemically delicious food before she gave up on it for Hannibal homemade. 

After the ceremony, and Hannibal gave her a sweet short kiss, they traveled back to the event hall where Willow cried like a mess as her kids gave very well thought speeches. They danced a few times, though neither of them were dancers and rather they made rounds to talk to everyone and take pictures and they went home in a timely manner, Willow being a bit drunker than sober. 

Later though they promised to each other in the heat of a proper marriage bed. A proper bride, Willow was just as she ever wanted to be, a proper bride. 

‘ To My Dear Terrifying Monster, You’ve got a present waiting downstairs’ Willow read as she yawned and sat up in bed. Her back hurt from being hunched over too many fbi files. She had pulled on her thick glasses and slipped her robe over her shoulders from where it hung on the back of the door. 

She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen. Yawning as she pushed the door open. 

“Hanni? Wha’s-” She asked and rubbed the sleep dust from her eyes. She stopped short though at the picture in front of her. 

A jug of cheeseballs, cans of doctor pepper, moon pies, and a big jar of moonshine cherries, laid out over the work bench like a fine dinner. Hannibal was standing there, in a big cotton t-shirt and a pair of his pajama pants, he looked so out of place. Willow smiled at the worn cotton shirt, she’d made him buy it and wear it because it was ‘comfy’. 

It was their anniversary. 

“It’s our anniversary.” Willow said with a smile. She’d remembered. 

Well she had remembered last month and had gotten him a present a month ago and then forgot. Hannibal rounded the counter, pulling her by her hips to kiss her. 

“A decade, you’ve been my terrible thing.” He said to her and she laughed and kissed him sweetly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Am I still terrible?” She asked, eyes sincere. She was gonna be 40 in January. She wasn’t a sparkly 30 year old anymore. Hannibal laughed and kissed her, picking her up and setting her on the counter. 

“You’re the most vicious, most ensnaring, most horrifying creature ever created, Willow.” He said, kissing her deeply. She smiled, eyes watering up. 

“You are a beautiful, beautiful woman. Something all men fear.” Hannibal finished and gave her another sweet kiss and hugged her. 

A decade and she was still a terrible beast, something that stuck fear in the very soul of a dangerous man. 

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