#Kitchenware Guide

[muslim-women-posts]

Cooking Up Savings: The Must-Have Kitchen Items from Amazon

Are you a culinary enthusiast or someone who simply enjoys whipping up delicious meals at home? Whether you’re a seasoned chef or an amateur cook, having the right kitchen items can make all the difference. In this blog post, we’ll explore a curated selection of essential kitchen tools and gadgets available on Amazon, each designed to enhance your cooking experience and simplify your time in the…

[tastycue]

The Ultimate 2024 Foodie Gift Guide for "That Girl": Trendy Kitchen Items for Stylish Entertaining and Delicious Experiences

Whether you’re shopping for a friend who’s passionate about cooking or someone who just loves hosting stylish soirées, a trendy kitchen gift is always a hit. In 2024, it’s all about mixing elegance with practicality—think sleek drinkware, unique culinary tools, and gorgeous dishware that turns everyday meals into experiences. If you’re looking for the perfect gift for the woman who’s always…

[anielskaaniela]

Exploring Kappabashi Kitchen Street: Tokyo's Culinary

In this post , you will visit with me Kappabashi Kitchen Street. Check out my japanese products [here]. What is Kappabashi Kitchen Street? Nestled between Ueno and Asakusa in Tokyo, Kappabashi Kitchen Street, also known as Kappabashi Dōgugai, is a culinary haven renowned for its extensive range of kitchenware. This bustling street, often referred to as “Kitchen Town,” has evolved from a niche…

[lexihomeusa]

The Ultimate Guide To Buying Cookware - Key Factors to Consider

Cookware is an essential part of any kitchen, but this commercial world has brought with it far too many possibilities and options. Thus, picking kitchenware correctly (for your specific needs) can be a little difficult. 

After all, the quality and type of cookware you use can significantly impact your cooking experience, from the taste of your food to the ease of cleaning up. Nevertheless, to help you out, we've compiled a few key factors that play a role when you consider buying kitchenware.

Factor #1: Cookware Materials

The material of your cookware is an essential factor to consider when buying cookware. Here are the most common cookware materials and their advantages and disadvantages:

Stainless Steel Kitchenware

Non-reactive - does not get affected by the alkalinity and acidity of food

Higher durability

Relatively easier maintenance

Not the best conductor of heat and can result in uneven cooking

Aluminum Cookware

An excellent conductor of heat and relatively lightweight

Can react with acidic foods, resulting in discoloration and an off-taste

Cast Iron Kitchenware

Very Durable 

Good heat retention

It can be heavy and requires more maintenance than other materials

Copper Cookware

An excellent conductor of heat and provides even cooking

Relatively expensive and requires regular polishing to maintain its appearance

Factor #2: Cookware Sets vs. Individual Pieces

You can choose between purchasing individual pieces or cookware sets when buying Kitchenware. Let's talk a little bit about both options.

Kitchenware Sets

Usually more cost-effective

Provide a variety of cookware for all your cooking needs

Individual Pieces

Allow you to customize your cookware collection to your specific needs

May be cheaper if only buying single pieces, but tends to build up the cost if you’re buying entries sets worth of kitchenware.

Factor #3: Heat Conductivity

The heat conductivity of your cookware will impact how evenly your food is cooked. Here's what to consider:

Copper and aluminum are great at conduction and allow for even cooking.

Stainless steel is not as good as the above at conduction and may result in hot spots and uneven cooking.

However, as mentioned above, this is not the only factor and must be considered in connection with all the other facets.

Full article on website:

[householdpackersindia]

[luvwestwood]

hi darling! can you write a perv! gojo smut where he likes to grope and lift your skirt? i’d love that in your writing

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SATORU JUST LOVES WHEN YOU WEAR SHORT LITTLE SKIRTS.

— 18+ twitter links included 💌

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings (18+), satoru is a pervert bf, humiliation kink, public foreplay/sex, cock warming, fingering, rough play, nsfw videos included, mildly dubious consent.

₊˚༊*·˚ notes thank u anon for ur request!! hehe it was fun writing this one, i've included multiple twitter links and surprisingly go with the two scenarios :3 hope you all enjoy!!

.. PERVY SATORU who just loves when you prance around in short little skirts— it gives him the opportunity to toy, and fuck with your mind whenever he wants, when he wants.

[LINK 💌]

although deep down, you love it. a squeeze at the plump of your ass here and there.

..those times when you two would go on an innocent date to the park, until satoru grows irritated— ending the day with you two cockwarming on a nearby bench.. oh how romantic.

satoru's hands leisurely guiding your hips back and forth- lifting your skirt up higher to take in the view of your bare ass; followed by his hand slipping between your legs to lazily rub circles over your clit as you discreetly fucked his needy cock.

"..putting this pretty skirt to good use, aren't we?" satoru teases, his hands taking your hair into his fist to put it behind your back— toying constantly at the ends.

meanwhile, your hands were holding onto either of his thighs for support as you fluctuated the pace at which your hips were moving at.

sometimes you'd glance over your shoulder just to see the same mocking smile satoru had on his face, eyes surveilling your movements, guaranteeing that you wouldn't stop.

heart threatening to leap out of your chest as the adrenaline gets the best of you— that if anyone were to peek under your skirt, they would see satoru's girthy cock stuffed balls deep inside of your pussy. only you two knew what was going on underneath.

it took a lot in him to not bend you over on the bench right there, fuck you silly as he bunched your skirt up past your hips— but he wasn't that mean.

❝ ..clean-up on aisle.. my pants! ❞

—and don't forget, the occasional, sneaky raising of your skirt in the kitchenware aisle at the back of the store where no one tends to go.

[LINK 💌]

satoru's long, slender fingers that are freezing cold to the touch; reaching under your skirt and hastily slipping a finger or two into your hole screaming with arousal. shivers being sent down your spine at the contrasting sensation.

your warm slick coating from his fingertips to his knuckles— satoru filled with content each time you squeal; the way you claw at his bicep from the way he'd curl up into you every single time.

"s-sato-r-u.. not.. not here," you whisper, almost mewl- his hand eagerly tugging at the hem of your skirt. breath hitching, you frantically look up and down both sides of the aisle, satoru handling you roughly as his palm meets the curve of your ass.

he freely roams around the soft flesh for a second, cock throbbing at the worried look on your face. he succumbed to the excitement he gets as he puts you on a tight-rope of humiliation, your flustered, panicked expression doing all sorts of things to him.

"shh.." he cooed, "if you aren't quiet enough, you'll definitely attract attention, hmm?" satoru's tone taunting, almost as if he wants you to both to get caught. he scans up and down the aisle as well, mirroring your actions- but pushes you both against a shelf displaying home furnishing products.

satoru's frame completely engulfing the distance between you, a hard tent presses against the side of your thigh; his middle and ring finger bypassing the fabric of your panties, pushing knuckles deep into your leaking hole.

his free hand wrapped around the other side of your waist, holding you close to him as possible— satoru wasting no time in jerking his fingers repeatedly inside of you, a squelching noise emitting from below. his soft palm hitting between your cheeks as he does so, your ass ripples from his movements; putting your boyfriend in a trance.

you squeal, satoru resting his chin atop your shoulder, hushing you every now and then.

you were constantly praying, hoping that no old suzie will come looking for a tartan cushion that was on the shelf beside you. manicured nails digging into his wrist, it does no use— his hand still being able to freely move about.

"n-ngh, sa..sat-oru-" words split into fragments, your mouth gapes open, face flushed with heat as he doesn't intend to stop, a sinister smile creeping onto his face as he watched you unfold before him.

your legs grow weak, his forearm that had been encircling your waist held onto you tighter, all to make sure that you stayed standing. "..want me to stop?" his breath tickles the shell of your ear, satoru's lips pressing against your jaw as you squirmed about in his embrace.

no response from you, satoru's movements come to a halt- quiet whimpers escaping your throat at the sudden empty feeling. "answer me baby, fuck- did you forget how to use your words?"

your head shaking from side to side desperately, you beg him not to, "n-no, keep- keep going.." voice trembling, your weight falls completely into his arms; teeth gritted as you felt an impending orgasm chasing after you, velvety walls clenching around his fingers.

satoru takes note of your demeanor, purring hundreds of prompts into your ear. "you wanna cum, huh? gonna cum for me?" he ushers you to the edge, grinning as you helplessly wrinkle his shirt into your fist, gripping onto it tightly as your eyes rolled shut.

in an instant, he comes to a complete stop— satoru retrieving his fingers from your hole, creamy slick glistening all over his fingers, partially covering his cherry coloured knuckles.

you suck in a deep breath, gasping; satoru's hand that was on your hip now plastered against your mouth. he wraps his lips around his fingers, licking them clean before giving your bare ass a playful spank.

"such a fucking jerk, satoru." you spit, words laced with venom, peeling his hands off you as you patted your skirt back down. turning your back against him, you scoff, walking away from your hysterical boyfriend.

satoru shrugs with a laugh, reaching for a fluffy cushion to his left before milling it at your head.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. confession/asks are open! all works originally come from my own head. I kindly ask, please do not re-post on a third party platform w/o my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ thank you for the love on all my works! i love each and every one of you!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[deejadabbles]

My ding-ding-dong (Fives x Reader) Humor

Summary: after a bad week at work, your boyfriend just wants to make you breathless.

Rating: T+

A.N: Everyone please go read A Question of Seman-dicks by @dystopicjumpsuit it's hilarious and reading it this morning got me into writing gear to pop this insanity out! @freesia-writes I'm determined to help you make this kind of fic a thing 😂

Word Count: 962

Songs to ~set the mood~ Ding Dong Song by Gunther and Bad Touch by bloodhound gang

Warnings: crude humor, cursing, Fives being Fives, suggestive situations

“I swear to the maker, one of these days!”

Fives watched as you cleaned up the kitchen, putting dishes away in the most aggressive manner he had ever seen as you vented about your week. He wanted to reach out and rub your back in comfort, but the way you slammed the cabinet shut made him think better of it.

“And I know why he’s decided to start drama with me,” you continued, grabbing the knife you had used to cut up dinner, “it’s because I stood up to him, because I didn’t take his condescending, mansplaining, bantha-shit attitude and put him in his place when he tried it on me.” Despite being nowhere in striking distance, Fives still took a step back when you kept the knife in hand as you raged. “So now he’s determined to make me look bad- well game on, bitch! He hasn’t even seen my ugly side yet!”

Fives half expected you to impale the knife into the counter like a declaration of war, but thankfully, you just tossed it in the knife drawer and slammed it shut. Finally, when you ran your hands over your tired face, he closed the distance between you and put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, babe, he’s a shithead and doesn’t deserve you as a coworker.”

Warmth filled his chest when you leaned into him, melting at his touch as you blinked up to meet his eyes. “No, I’m sorry,” you let out a defeated sigh, “your shore leave just started and here I am whining about work when I should be focused on you.”

He kissed the top of your head, “Stop that, mesh’la, you needed to vent, you were under a lot of stress this week. I would have held you sooner, but figured it was best to wait til you weren’t armed with serrated kitchenware.”

That made you chuckle a little and the warmth in his chest grew. He wanted to hear a proper laugh from you, a real one that might melt your troubles away.

Oh, that could work. He could practically see the light bulb that went off over his own head as an idea came.

“Hey,” he mumbled as he kept kissing the top of your head, “want me to make you forget your shitty week?”

You turned in his arms, an interested, knowing smirk on your pretty mouth, “Oh, I’d love that, handsome.”

Making sure to put on his best smolder, he took your hand and guided you across your apartment until you got to the bedroom. “Just lay back, beautiful, I’m going to make you howl,” he said, choosing his words very carefully.

The way you raised a brow just a little said you caught it, but you sat on the bed all the same. He followed, pecking your lips as he gently pressed your back to the mattress.

"I'm gonna make you feel soooo good, sweetheart," he said running his hands up your sides in a way that had you biting your lip.

He couldn't wait to have you gasping from the words his mind was thinking up. Just a little more teasing to set the mood...

Fives trailed his mouth down your neck, then back up to your ear, nipping it before he whispered, “Are you ready?”

“Yes-”

“Ready for my trouser snake?”

You choked instantly.

“Wut?”

Fives leaned back, smile bright as he rolled his hips dramatically, “Come on, baby, my man meat is right here.”

That’s when the nervous chuckles started, “ ‘Man meat?! What are you-?”

“My love sausage is ready to serve.”

“Oh my god!”

He rubbed his thighs in a mock of a seductive pose, “You know my little soldier is standing at attention for you!”

That’s the one that had you busting out in a full laugh, double funny considering there was nothing ‘little’ about Fives.

“You can ride my disco stick aaaalllll night!”

Your hand flew up to cover your face as the laughter became more ragged, the other hand holding your side. Oh, Fives wasn’t done yet, not even close!

He started fumbling with his belt in exaggerated movements, “Let me just unleash my custard launcher.”

“Custard- Fives STOOOOP!” it came out a wheeze, and he saw some tears of joy collecting in the corner of your eyes.

“What?” he leaned over you again caging you with his arms as he looked you over, “I thought you loved my massive king kong dong!”

You couldn’t form words anymore, just slapping weakly at his chest as you tried to draw breath into your lungs between strained laughter. Now to move in for the kill.

“My tallywacker,” he leaned in closer, dropping his voice, “my wiener,” then lips to your ear and in his most seductive tone, “my ding-a-ling.”

When you shoved at him, Fives pulled back, smiling at his handy work as you rolled over, clutching your sides and trying to breathe through the delighted wheezing. Well, you certainly weren’t thinking about work now, and Fives thought a smug ‘mission accomplished’ to himself as the fit continued.

He watched as your breathing started to even out, a few happy tears wetting your cheeks, smile bright, eyes alight.

“Damn, you’re beautiful when you laugh,” he said and this time, his tone was completely genuine.

Now that you could finally form coherent thoughts again, you rolled onto your back again and grinned at him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I have a man who makes me laugh.”

He couldn’t help it, he dove in and kissed you, long and deep this time, loving, doting. Kriff, he adored you.

“Thank you,” a content whisper against his lips, “you always make me feel better.”

“Can’t be a perfect boyfriend without skills like that,” he hummed, then, “now, are you ready to get breathless for a whole different reason?”

You threw your arms around him giggling as you pulled him in for another kiss, “Please.”

.

Tag list: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

[marlasbreastlump]

assorted f fight club designs!!! emo haired marlon for tylerstesticles

closeups and rambles under cut

before meeting taylor/tyler f narrator would mostly conform to standards for women both internally and externally. she would shave, keep her hair long, dress feminine but i dont think she would invest a lot of time in things like makeup (excluding foundation and such for fight club bruises) or diets. she would be self conscious about her appearance a lot, and would have beauty products but i dont see her consistently using them.

in my mind she collects kitchenware because 1. she expects to get married and take on the caretaking mother/wife role and 2. its less expensive than furniture (insurance call center salary). she could collect makeup. i see her as being pretty insecure that she isn’t married by 30 but doesn’t really want a boyfriend/husband.

as she spends more time with taylor she would adopt taylors masculine characteristics both because of taylor’s ideology and because narrator wants to be taylor.

despite marlon never having sex with taylor, narrator would harbor more resentment for him than regular narrator does for marla.

she would also hate her boss so much more. her boss would see her as daughter-substitute as well as a woman (inherent object to dominate) which would lead to him treating narrator with affection (from his pov) condescension and creepy undertones.

she would hate angel face less, though. still mutilates her but it’s the thought that counts.

taylor/tyler is the one who designwise changed the least. to me shes just tyler with slightly longer hair.

i might change her name bc taylor is too feminine a name for her

she would be very masculine, yes because of her whole liberate women thing but also because this is what narrator thinks is hot. i.e wearing mens clothes (obviously) being built like a brick wall, masculine mannerisms overall

this is also because she fills the same traditionally paternal roles as tyler: 1. the parent (not as nurture but teach/guide. taylor is mother and father substitute but leans more towards father substitute) 2. ideal self (not explicitly masculine but this is who narrator idealizes) 3. God.

i think project mayhem would be more explicitly homoerotic in this au because advocating for independence from men/you can get away with no-homoing relationships a lot more if its between women/??????????

primary members of project mayhem

-disenfranchised housewives (financial dependence on men)

-young women (objectification, beauty standards, etc)

-middle aged working women (undervalued female-majority jobs like nursing, too old to be valued for sex and now valued for nothing)

though taylor’s ideology would be mostly centered around liberation of women etc she would still hate women in management/power. pisses in rich people soup regardless of gender

despite his and taylors relationship being healthier(????) than its canon counterpart due to them being just friends instead of hookups+????? i think taylor would still burn marlon w cigs and call him a human butt-wipe. he’d be fine with it though

he wears womens clothes from the thrift but i dont think he would act particularly feminine

in this au taylor cant steal his moms liposuction fat to make soap as i imagine he doesn’t have a great relationship with his parents

almost gets castrated by project mayhem when shits all going down

overall not that different from canon marla.

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - Holiday Edition! 🎄❄️🎁☃️

WARNING - mild NSFW: rated PG-13 for adult themes, but mostly fluff

How do you imagine the Papas spend that special holiday? My headcanons of the Papas’ holiday gift giving and other traditions.

Primo

Plants a very special plant he knows you like - different colored roses, or a poinsettia then surprises you with it on Christmas morning

Also takes the time to knit you a scarf that has your favorite colors

Wants to spend quality family time with his brothers before/while diving into presents and a big holiday dinner

Wants to bake cookies with you

Enjoys watching Christmas movies all bundled up with you in the matching fuzzy robes and slippers he got the both of you

Makes sure you feel loved and appreciated on this special day

Falls asleep while sipping on hot chocolate or tea in front of the TV

Secondo

Buys you some very nice jewelry

He’ll plan a vacation to the Bahamas or somewhere warm and you’re leaving the day after Christmas!

For Christmas Day he’s happy just to open presents, bake cookies, and watch movies with his loved ones

He’s not a fan of Hallmark movies but watches them with you because you love them

Plans an extravagant meal with all the Clergy members

Wants to go ice skating with you (mostly so he can guide you along by touching your waist the entire time)

Terzo

He’s horny 24/7/365 but something about the holidays gives him that extra warm feeling

Has definitely put his dick in a box and wrapped it. When you take the lid off the box, there’s a bow around his dick

He’s probably also put mistletoe around his dick and asked you to kiss it (for a visual of this, you can read my fic of this exact scenario complete with artwork!)

Says that He Is the present

Buys you sex toys, but also other things, most of them not practical in the slightest

He LOVES opening presents. “Ooh what did you get me?”

He’s proud of the presents he got you too, although half of them are basically for him anyway (he’s totally stealing the gel manicure set and skincare items and the soft blanket he got you)

Makes you feel so loved that you hardly care about presents and all your holiday stress melts away

He loves those silly Hallmark movies and wants to watch them with you unironically

Fuck Christmas pajamas, you’re going to be naked in bed with him most of the day

But when he does have to be up and around, he’s wearing comfy PJ bottoms with fuzzy socks

Makes lots of sexual Christmas innuendo/puns like how he’s going to be coming down your chimney or something

Copia

His gifts are usually the most thoughtful

Pays attention to your interests and gives you something based on that

Wears a cute matching PJ set, and gets you one to match him

He’s so excited to watch you open the gifts he got you and to show you how each electronic thing works (even if it’s just a pair of headphones). It’s sweet how attentive he is so you let him show you even though you already know how it all works

Wants to bake cookies with you

Assuming there’s a white Christmas he insists on sledding after opening presents

Carries mistletoe around just to have an excuse to kiss you throughout the day (“And eheh, other things later,” he says)

Nihil

Gets everyone gift cards

Loves Christmas crackers

If he branches out it’s usually something practical like kitchenware or a vacuum

He prides himself on finding the best Hallmark card around because they always profess love better than he can communicate

Falls asleep on the couch watching classics like “It’s a Wonderful Life” and “White Christmas” because that’s what reminds him of his youth

Eats the cookies you bake

[gothicallybright]

SHE GETS THE JOB DONE! (2)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

you and chappell are left alone in the house, leading to some intimate activities.

w: smut. (it's down there don't worry, you just have to scroll.)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The next morning, sunrise slowly painted the sky with hues of orange and yellow. The soft sun rays streaked through the cracked open barn door, casting a stream of light into the dim interior. The rooster's crow echoed across the quiet countryside, signaling the new day.

You slowly awoke, but not to the sound of the rooster, rather to the sound of a harmonica playing from the barn, its sound adding a touch of peace to the morning. Your husband was thankfully away at work, leaving you alone with Chappell finally.

The morning light grew stronger, illuminating the surrounding countryside. A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass. You sighed softly, inhaling the countryside smells, pushing a stray loose strand of hair over your ear, and approached the barn, your steps softer and calmer now.

You quietly walked to the barn, pushing the door gently. Your eyes fell on Chappell sitting on the hay, harmonica in hand, her hat casting a shadow over her face. You stood there, a soft smile tugging on your lips, watching Chappell play the harmonica, the quiet barn filled with the soft, mellow tune. The soft tune of the harmonica paused, and Chappell looked up, noticing your presence. She stopped playing, her fingers still resting gently against the harmonica. The soft sunlight illuminating the barn, adding a warm glow.

You stepped farther into the barn, your footsteps hushed against the hay-strewn floor. You reached Chappell and lowered yourself down next to her on the hay. You sat quietly, your hands clasped gently over your knees, the atmosphere in the barn feeling more… intimate. You both stayed quiet for a few moments, simply listening to the faint sounds of the countryside and the distant song of birds.

''My husband left for work.'' you said softly, a hint of relief in your voice. Chappell asked to shower quickly, and you nodded. ''Yes, of course you can. I'll show you the way.'' You told her, getting up from the hay and offering her a hand which she accepted. Chappell fed her mare before following you into the house. The echo of her boots hitting the wooden floor brought you great comfort. You took the lead and guided Chappell towards the bathroom. The house was quiet, and soft morning sunlight streamed through the window. You opened the bathroom door for her and turned on the light, indicating where the towels and toiletries were. She lowered her hat and smiled, a simple thank you gesture before leaving outside to take her spare clothes she brought with her.

As Chappell began showering, you decided to make breakfast for the two of you. A little appreciation of her hard work. You moved around the kitchen, starting to prepare breakfast, the smells of bacon, eggs, and coffee filling the air. The clatter of kitchenware and the sound of sizzling bacon filled the home, making it cozy. You worked diligently, your moves familiar in the kitchen, humming softly to a country song, your attention divided between the cooking and the water running from the bathroom.

The breakfast was finished and ready to be served. You carefully placed the two plates opposite of each other, serving the same amount of food on them. You placed the two cups from the cabinet and filled them with coffee. Chappell stepped into the kitchen, her reddish curls still wet from the shower. She was dressed in a clean set of clothes, her outfit simple yet stylish, a hint of country charm. The scent of soap mingled with the aroma of the food, her skin still a bit damp, and her curls a little wilder from the shower. Water droplets clung lightly to her shirt, adding to the just-showered look. You turned and looked at Chappell, the heat instantly flashing on your cheeks. You watched, her clothes clinging slighting to her damp skin, perfectly shaping her figure. Your eyes widened slightly, expression a mix of surprise, admiration and subtle attraction.

''Breakfast? Oh. You didn't have to do that, ma'am.'' Chappell said, a nervous laugh escaping her mouth. You smiled, looking slightly flustered, still holding the coffee machine in your hands. "Oh, it's no trouble," you said, your voice light and sincere, your eyes still tracing Chappell gently. You sat down at the table, shaking your head gently. "I thought you might appreciate something to eat before you start your work," you added.

''Thank you.'' Chappell expressed her gratitude, a soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She took a seat at the table, appreciating the food laid out before her. You two ate in a comfortable silence, the quiet only broken by the clinks of silverware and the soft sounds of chewing, the only other sound the murmur of birds outside the window. The sun streamed in, casting a soft, warm glow over the table.

You finally felt at peace while eating breakfast. No yelling and complaining, just silence.

''No antlers on the walls?'' Chappell pointed out, gesturing towards the empty spot on the doorway. You chuckled slightly. ''No. Mating doesn't call in this house.'' Chappell raised an eyebrow, ''How so?'' ''Well, I guess it's just that… he can't satisfy me enough.'' You looked to the side, remembering how disgusted you felt during intimacy with him. Chappell shrugged. ''He just doesn't get the job done.'' She said, wiping her hands on a rag and getting up from the table. She picked up her dirty plate and brought it to the sink, washing it clean and placing it on the dish drainer. You were stunned. Your husband never did that. You always had to wash his plates. Chappell noticed your surprised stare and smiled. ''It's just manners, ma'am.'' she says in her usual accent. You watched her quietly, your eyes following every movement, feeling a strange flutter in your chest.

Your eyes slowly trail away from her and onto the colorful sticky note placed on the fridge door. Your eyes narrow with curiosity as you peel it off, reading the words. It was from your husband.

''Bussiness trip. Will be away for 2 days. I better not see any trace of the carpenter by the time I'm home.''

Your eyes sparkled up with joy and a smile quickly replaced your curious expression. You quickly rushed over to Chappell who was swaying her hips to the songs on the radio, washing the dishes. ''Chappell, Chappell!'' Chappell looked up, her blue eyes meeting yours. You could see a hint of curiosity on her face. "Ah, yes?" she replied, her voice carrying a hint of interest. You took a moment to compose herself, your heart beating slightly faster, anticipation coursing through you. "My husband will be out of town for the next two days. He's on a business trip." You said, your eyes watching Chappell, awaiting her reaction. Chappell tilted her head slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity in her expression, "Your husband's going on a business trip?" she mused out loud. You nodded, your excitement barely contained, a smile threatening to widen on your lips.

Chappell stared at you blankly, and the next thing you know, you're outside with her, laughing your asses off, your old vintage camera in hands, taking pictures. ''God, you're such an idiot!'' You said through laughter as you hit Chappell playfully. ''What??'' She exclaimed, a confused happiness on her face. ''What even is that face? You look like a duck!'' Chappell pretended to be offended, letting out a scoff. ''Ma'am… it's called duck face for a reason.'' You rolled your eyes with a smile. ''Whatever.''

You started to flip through the other pictures you took, noticing how happier you looked with her than your husband. As you continued to flip, a picture of you came up that you took a few months back. It was a picture of you sitting on top of your favorite cow, Bessie. Chappell's eyes light up, pointing out how cute that is. You suggested that she also takes a picture like that, and she gladly accepted.

With a good-natured grin, you led Bessie into the backyard. Chappell, with her nimbleness, quickly climbed onto the cow's back and posed, balancing herself perfectly, camera in hand ready for the perfect shot. Bessie, usually calm and docile, suddenly seemed to have a change in mood. Her head jerked around, her eyes narrowing, and she let out a low grumble, as if annoyed. A moment later, she abruptly began to toss her head and body, trying to shake off Chappell.

She yelped as she was suddenly set flying off of the cow's back, landing on her ass, the cowboy hat she had been wearing fell off her head. You were taken aback by Bessie's unusual tantrum, but when you saw Chappell laying on the ground, hat knocked off, you burst out into laughter.

Chappell, still laughing softly despite the slight pain in her ass, slowly got up from the ground. Her unruly red curls were even more disheveled now, pieces of hay tangled within them, making her look like she'd just finished a wrestling match with Bessie. You quickly picked up the camera that fell on the ground and snapped a picture of Chappell, hay in her hair and her clothes stained from the dirt. The candid shot captured the moment perfectly, freezing it in time. Chappell, realizing you had taken the picture, pretended being annoyed, pretending to pout. She crossed her arms, a mock frown on her face. "Ay, you took a picture of me when I looked like a mess," she protested, although the playful tone of her voice betrayed her true feelings. You laughed slightly. ''Well, I like that mess.'' You winked at her and her pretended pout was replaced by a grin.

''Oh? I'll give you a mess then.''

She grabbed a handful of hay. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the hay at you, aiming it to land in your hair and on your clothes. You let out a surprised laugh as the hay dusted your hair and landed on your clothes. You placed the camera on the ground and began to frantically swat at the pieces of hay, trying to get them off, but the hay seemed to cling stubbornly, sticking to your shirt and hair. The grin on Chappell's face broadened, her laughter ringing out as she continued to throw more hay, clearly enjoying your 'suffering'. As you were distracted by swatting away the hay, Chappell took the opportunity, grabbed the camera and took a picture of you in a total mess. ''There ya go! Now we're even, miss!'' She teased you as you were shaking your head at her, still swatting away the hay.

Time was passing by fast and you continued to hang out with Chappell outside as the afternoon slowly turned into evening and the sun slowly set, casting warm, golden hues across the sky. The soft, warm light of the setting sun added a cozy ambience to the whole property. You and Chappell, still giggling and covered in hay, decided to retreat inside as the sun was close to setting now. You walked back into the house, the warm, familiar interior awaiting you, still carrying the same laughter and high spirits from the time you had just spent outside.

As dinner concluded, Chappell and you moved to the upstairs bedroom, the warm, gentle feel of the room creating an intimate setting. You settled yourselves on the bed, the television in front of you displaying a show, the artificial light from the screen casting a faint glow on your faces. You were now lying next to each other, your bodies dangerously close, a hint of thrill in the air as your shoulders occasionally brushed against each other.

Your heart was beating fast, your breath rigged a bit. The wedding ring on your finger weighed heavily on your conscience. You were married, but you didn't care about that now. You took off the ring and placed it on the nightstand table which caught Chappell's attention. ''You okay?'' She asked. The gentle smell of soap filled your nose due to the shower you both took a few minutes ago, her hair still a bit wet. The tension between you was palpable, building up like a storm. You noticed Chappell leaning closer to you, your lips now inches apart. Without another moment's hesitation, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to hers. You could tell Chappell was taken aback at first, but she quickly deepened the kiss, her hands roaming over your body like a map. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer as your bodies began to sway against each other. You ran your fingers through her hair, feeling the wetness of it as she climbed on top of you. The kiss deepened, your tongues intertwining in a sensual dance. Chappell gripped you tighter, your bodies melding together.

Her hands continued to roam, exploring every curve and line of your body. Chappell's lips descended from your lips to your neck, claiming it in a searing kiss. She sucked gently, relishing the soft skin beneath her lips. You arched your back, your nails raking through her hair. She increased the pressure, leaving a hickey on your delicate skin. When she was satisfied, she unbuttoned your shirt, kissing down your chest, lips trailing on your stomach. The sounds from the TV were slowly getting muffled out from your aroused moaning as Chappell kissed her way down to your inner thigh, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin. She paused, her lips hovering over your core, hot and tantalizing. You squirmed beneath her, your hips lifting, begging for more. She slowly slid the barrier that was sealing your sweet spot and her tongue began circling your most sensitive spot, causing your eyes to water in pleasure and your hips to lift, seeking more of her touch. She noticed your desperation and increased the pressure, her tongue applying just the right amount of pressure on your spot, driving you wild. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, your cries of ecstasy echoing through the room, completely drowning out the TV sounds. You felt a knot forming in your stomach, and the moment she slid her fingers in, the knot untied, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You exhaled loudly, your eyes closing in a bliss, your hands slowly releasing the bed sheets which were left disheveled.

After the passion had ceased, you found yourself in Chappell's arms, your bodies still intertwined. Soft, comforting words and whispers filled the air as you gently caressed each other. Chappell would trail delicate kisses along your collarbone or neck, a soft murmur of "I love you" accompanying the tender touch. Your fingers would gently trace the contours of her body, a soothing pattern of touch and connection. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the room filled with a gentle, comforting energy. You snuggled up to her as close as possible as the TV began flashing your favorite TV show.

[wrenrogue]

Kuroo leaves a lot of his things at Kenma's house because that's just how it's always been, even when they were neighbors. Half the time he comes back to kenma wearing/using whatever stuff he left behind a week ago, or something kenma took from his apartment when he last visited.

Kuroo feigns being annoyed at times, but they both know it's not real annoyance, but if kuroo's annoyed at anything is that he can't take a picture of Kenma wearing his dress shirts without getting caught. Or that the only way he can get to kiss Kenma is indirectly by "accidentally" leaving his half drunk mug of coffee behind for Kenma to drink from in the morning. Or that he currently can't give Kenma access to all his things and himself full-time like he ideally wants to do.

It's become such a normal part of their routine though that sometimes kenma asks kuroo to take off the shirt he's wearing because "it's the one I want to wear today"

and Kuroo always goes "but you have your own shirts" as he's halfway out of his own, ready to hand it over.

"yknow sometimes I think you want to steal everything in my apartment" kuroo says as he finds a pan in Kenma's kitchen cupboards he thought he'd lost months ago

"And what if I did?" Kenma shrugs as he eats cereal from a bowl that also has been missing from Kuroo's apartment.

"that's so cruel of you to steal from the poor like that!!"

"The Poor literally sleeps over almost every night!!"

"because The Bourgeois has all my work shirts held hostage!!"

"you have 2 left in your apartment last time I checked!!"

"one has a stain I can't wash off!!"

"I'll buy you a new one!!"

"you'll just end up stealing it!!"

"No I won't!"

"Yes you will!!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Then just let me steal you, so I don't have to steal your shirts anymore!!"

"Kyanma!!" Kuroo gasps dramatically as he points his pan at Kenma, "so you were holding my shirts hostage!!"

Kenma rolls his eyes as he makes his way toward The Poor, "move in with me you weirdo"

"You're only saying that because you want my last good dress shirt"

"I want the idiot that wears it actually"

"You shouldn't call yourself mean things, Kenma"

"Kuro." It's in that moment that Kuroo realizes he's been cornered against the kitchen sink.

"Oh"

"Well?"

"uhhh" says Kuroo articulately. In his defense, it's not everyday one gets to be pinned against the sink by the love of their life, especially not with the offer of moving in together

"I know you want to" Kenma leans forward even further, "I want you to" he says softer still

Kuroo hopes Kenma can't see how hard his heart is currently pounding. It makes him kinda wish he hadn't given the shirt he wore earlier to Kenma. "Can-um... Can I steal something from you first though?" he asks, like an idiot. "It's only fair"

"Like what?" asks The Bourgeois

Since when did Kenma get 5 inches taller? Kuroo thinks as he decides to be an idiot and lean forward to steal a kiss. He realizes he doesn't mind not wearing a shirt when Kenma wraps his arms around his shoulders to close the gap between their bodies even further.

Kuroo briefly wonders as he explores Kenma's mouth if he'd like to take off the shirt he stole from him earlier too... it's only fair...

Unfortunately life isn't fair to The Poor and the pan he once held slips out of his grasp meeting the kitchen tile with a loud clang.

In his defense, kissing Kenma is more important than remembering he's still holding kitchenware.

"your pan" a half dazed Kenma says when he disconnects and his heels touch ground again

"our pan" Kuroo corrects

"Our?" Kenma looks up at him, golden eyes hopeful

Kuroo nods earnestly, beaming like an idiot as he picks up Kenma to sit him on the kitchen counter "Our."

Kenma smiles back, an idiot himself, before he wraps his arms around Kuroo's bare shoulders once more,

"our pan" he whispers before he guides Kuroo into steal another kiss from him, and many more after that; their pan left forgotten on their kitchen floor soon followed by their shirt.

[shittysawtraps]

Hello chef, as you can see, before is a rat, a chef's hat and a variety of kitchenware and indgredients. This rat must use you to create a three course meal. The rat has 6 hours to do so, you may guide the rat. If you do not suceed you will be deep fried in tempura batter, good luck.

.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE ASK ABT JOBS SUGURU WOULD HAVE ,,,,,, i love thinking abt it thats my favorite subject EVA !!!! [thats a lie suguru as a whole is my favorite subject teehee :3]

ur SOOO right abt him being in law 2 help ppl ,,,,,, SO right w the idea of him walking around w a briefcase + slicked back ponytail + coffee GOHDDDD ok . okay . jobs I THINK suguru would have LETS GO !!

CERAMICIST - hed make these insane pots + sculptures n have showcases that r BOOKED like ,,, hes just so ,,,, pottery person 2 me,,,, n i feel like hed have a focus on using old pottery methods n keeping them alive in the modern day ,, like hes got some crazy intricate jomon pots, porcelain bowls + other kitchenware, n probs some bizen pots that he made dotted around his garden ,,,,, WAUGHHH I LOEV ART HISTORY

TATTOO ARTIST - ok . popular hc BUT STILL . hes worked his way up from being an apprentice in a huge shop -> owning his own lil studio pretty fast n hes GOOD . like hes got a rlly nice set of flashes that r colorful n playful but on himself hes probably got these super serious grayscale marbles and mythology plastered all over him [except for a family portrait mimiko + nanako made when they were like . 6 that he thought was so cute he got it tattooed on him] also i dont think hed b SUUPER in2 tattooing ppls names on other ppl or on himself, but maybe once u two have been dating for a LONGG while or r even almost a solid decade into marriage hed consider getting your name tatted somewhere hidden-but-not-really-hidden [womb tattoo, around the back of his ear, inner thigh]

MARINE BIOLOGIST - oHH MY GOHD OH MY GOHD OHHHHH MY GOHD i get super excited abt this cuz i wanna b a marine biologist SO BADDDDDD . its coming . TRUST !!!! anyway, he probably does some type of conservation bcuz . cmon . look at him . so he dives pretty often, like a weekly typa thing, BUT IMAGINE HIM IN THE SCUBA OUTFIT . he comes out sopping wet n hes probably rlly hot 4 a solid minute b4 the Stench hits u since ur both in an enclosed space and he smells like the underside of a dock.

CLASSICAL MUSICIAN - u know how i was talking abt how suguru would b a cellist ? yeah hed b a DAMN GOOD cellist like that man is principal cellist and hes so nice abt it 2 ,,, like he doesn't flaunt it and whenever someone in his section needs help w bowings or smthn else he gladly helps them !! he probably solos a ton on the tuba 2 ,,, like hes just SO GOOD at everything he picks up its insane

CONDUCTOR - same vein as the classical musician thing, he would b such a fine ass conductor ,,,,, like his facial expressions when the music gets intense and then it softens and hes swaying with the orchestra, hands gliding through the air ,,, also hed just b rlly good at keeping ppl in time and figuring out what each section was doing wrong.

oki thats my 2 cents on the whole thing ill get off my soapbox now dhhdhd :3

ASHLEY i’m finally getting to this…… these are all so bigbrained it’s crazy . AND I’M SO GLAD YOU SEE THE LAWYER!SUGU VISION <3333 he means the world 2 me….. silly little guy……

BUT WAHHH. CERAMIST SUGU THE LOML????? there’s this one stsg fic i rlly like where he’s a ceramics instructor and it …. changed me. as a person. AND I AGREE COMPLETELY the part abt him wanting to keep old art alive….. showcases constantly booked bc he’s just so skilled….. 😵‍💫 yeah. sugu as any kind of artist makes me insane. and him being good at pottery is just so…. weirdly attractive to me???? LIKE . him just having the most steady gentle hands…… teaching you how to mold the clay properly……… your back against his chest as he guides your hands . i need him so bad

AND . TATTOO ARTIST. yes it’s popular but it’s popular for a REASON (reason being: he is hot). HIM OWNING HIS OWN STUDIO and being so skilled….. the mythological tattoos + family portrait 🥺🥺 wahhh . he’s so sweet ashley…. i need him so bad…….. AND THE NAME THING …… i agree btw i feel like he would see tattoos as very . very very special. so getting your name inked into his skin so permanently might feel just as serious as a proposal to him 😭😭 i could see him doing it eventually tho ….. i agree w all the placements bUT. a part of me feels like . he’d get it tattooed somewhere on his chest … close to his heart….. :’3 sniffle. i could also see him getting a tiny heart you doodled onto his palm tattooed w/o you knowing and you’re just like ???? SUGURU??????? and he’s just. “i thought it was cute :)”…… sick sick man (affectionate) 😔😔

AND MARINE BIOLOGIST!SUGU ??? YOUR BRAINNNNN i remember you mentioning that in the sashisu college au too :33 him scuba diving!!!!! being constantly drenched and smelling of seasalt….. i’m of the firm belief that he was obsessed w marine biology as a kid so it just makes sense. I TRUST YOU BTWWW you’ll become a marine biologist for sure 🫡🫡🫡 pls let me pet the sharks once it happens . i would like to see them.

and finally ….. classical musician and conductor. CONDUCTOR!SUGU HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD BTW?? he would look so graceful and commanding and and and 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 just . him. swaying w the orchestra!!!!! he’s like a beautiful swan….. and ofc i love the idea of him being a musician too :3 it just makes sense. AND . HIM BEING A CELLIST. WHAT IF I CRYYYY he’d look so good playing it……

ashley your brain is actually so insanely big did you know that …… tysm for the food as always 🙏🙏 i am nomming him 2 death

[satansapostle6]

Angel With A Broken Wing | Jonah Simms

And if I may just take your breath away / I don't mind if there's not much to say / Sometimes the silence guides a mind / To move to a place so far away / The goosebumps start to raise / The minute that my left hand meets your waist / And then I watch your face / Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah / These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for / Inside this place is warm / Outside it starts to pour

Warnings: Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight: Promise You’ll Say If I’m Ever In Your Way

Today, I walked into work as Jonah handed me a Red Bull.

“Thanks,” I nodded appreciatively.

“I know how much you love these ones,” he told me.

I nod in agreement, smiling as I took a long sip. We walked to the back together to clock in.

“You know, those wreak havoc on your cardiovascular health,” Jonah informed me with genuine concern, regarding the gift he had literally gotten me.

I just shook my head at him. “I don’t drink them to be healthy, I drink them to be awake.”

“Yeah, and then eventually, they’ll make you go to sleep forever,” he smiled smugly.

I rolled my eyes as I continued on drinking my drink. “You watch too much Dr. Oz.”

“‘Dr. Oz’?!” Jonah questioned with a laugh. “What are we, in 2008?”

“My bad,” I scoffed, “I guess I was just getting my information from looking at your shoes.”

“Very funny,” he smiled as we walked. “I’m only looking out for your health, you know.”

“Because you’re annoying like that?” I smirk.

“Because I want you to be around longer,” Jonah corrected me with a smile, “And, who else is gonna finally teach me how to play Mahjong?”

“What,” I scoff as we walk, “Just because I’m Asian, I know how to play Mahjong?!”

A bunch of customers nearby gave us looks.

“Nice try,” Jonah smiled, “We’ve literally discussed you teaching me how to play six times… I counted.”

The casual conversation continued for a little while longer, until we got closer to the sporting section.

“So, what are you on today? Sporting goods? Electronics? Kitchenware…?”

“Guns,” I stated as I got behind the gun counter.

He stared, seeming to have forgotten where we were for a second. “…Guns?” he repeated.

I nodded. “Yes, that’s… what I said.”

He nodded silently, looking around uncomfortably as he just stood there, kind of like an idiot. I did all the necessary opening procedures before looking back up at him.

“Is there… a problem?” I wondered.

“No, no…!” he said quickly, his voice going up almost an octave. “No, I just… Ooh. Guns. You’re… okay, here…?” he stared at me, trying to gauge something on my face.

“Uh… Yeah… Why?” I stare. “Am I, like… showing a nipple right now?” I genuinely started to wonder based on his demeanor.

“Uh, no! No!” he said quickly. “I just… I just…Uh… Work!”

I frowned in confusion.

“Work, yes, work…! That is… Something I must do… now…?” he stared, looking at me almost for permission before he left.

I just shook my head. “What a weirdo…”

*****

Garrett McNeill was stewing in customer service, irritably watching Netflix behind the box of a returned gloves when Jonah walked up.

“Did you know that Sophie’s selling guns?”

Garrett frowned, knowing he’d have to entertain this for another ten minutes or so.

“Like, out of the trunk of her car, or…?”

Jonah huffed at his sarcasm before continuing. “People and their guns…” he muttered angrily.

Garrett looked up in confusion, no longer interested in his show.

“Okay, what is this that’s happening…?”

“You know,” Jonah expressed with a sigh, “I never expected Sophie of all people to be one of those gun-raving lunatics.”

“Okay, what?” Garrett sighed, unable to keep up with Jonah’s thought process.

“Sophie works the gun counter!” Jonah cried, appalled.

“Yeah, so…?” Garrett questioned.

“She works the gun counter!”

“Oh, thanks, I missed that the first time…”

“You know what I mean!” Jonah scoffed. “How could you let me hang out with someone like that?!”

Garrett stared. “Someone who… does their job…?”

“I never knew Sophie was right-leaning!”

“She’s not!” Garrett exclaimed impatiently.

“She’s not?” Jonah questioned.

“No!” Garrett yelled. “Not, like, at all!”

“No?” Jonah asked, seemingly relieved.

“No!” Garrett shook his head. “She’s a registered socialist!”

“Wait, she is?” Jonah asked. “That’s… cool.”

Garrett just shook his head as a completely different thought process kicked in.

“Do you… think she’s comfortable… selling guns like that?” Jonah wondered.

“The… adult woman asked to do her job in a retail store?” Garrett raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I think she’s fine.”

Jonah just rolled his eyes at his friend’s dismissiveness.

“You know, it’s just like corporate to force an employee to go against their own agenda…”

“Oh, my God!” Garrett groaned as he went back to his show, “Just bang already!”

“What?” Jonah demanded. “Who’s banging?”

Garrett just shook his head as he watched on his phone.

“Who?!” Jonah asked again. “Me and Sophie?!”

Mateo happened to be passing by.

“Oh, did you guys finally get it on?”

“What—?” Jonah said again, “Who is… Where is this all coming from?” he asked, alarmed, but also unable to admit that he wasn’t hating it.

*****

After my smoke break with Brett, I was working the gun counter again, helping some guy who wanted to buy a handgun. I didn’t notice Jonah at first, standing by a mannequin for some unknown reason.

“…Yeah, this’ll be just fine,” I hand it to him, I haven’t heard of many problems with it.”

“I was thinking of buying a Glock…”

I shake my head. “Nah, you don’t need it. I’m personally not a huge fan… They’re too difficult, they jam too easily… If anything, you’d be better off with a Sig…”

The guy nodded receptively. I helped him choose a gun before sending him off, as Jonah finally walked up.

“Hey…”

I looked up. “Hey.”

“So, can I ask you something…?”

I waited.

“Why… are you working the gun counter…?”

I frown. “Because I work here…?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Jonah said under his breath. “No… I mean… You know you can say ‘no’… right?”

“To a shift assignment?” I say quizzically, not understanding what the big deal was.

“Yeah, I mean…” Jonah thought. “It’s unfair for them to force you to do that…”

“Do what?” I asked.

“You know…” he said, “Sell guns for them…”

“They’re not forcing me,” I shrugged. “Dina asked me to, ‘cause Dan was out today…”

“Come on,” Jonah smiled, trying to be disarming, “No way you just… want to be doing this.”

I shrugged, still not understanding his point. “It only makes sense.”

“‘Makes sense’…?” Jonah echoed.

“‘Cause I worked at a gun shop,” I stated simply.

He gave me a funny look. “You did?”

I nod. “Yeah. My uncle’s. In Oakland. For a few months.”

“Oakland…” Jonah remembered. “Right. You’re from Oakland…”

I laughed awkwardly. “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “No, I just… I don’t know. I never thought you’d be… pro-gun,” he concluded.

“And… I’m guessing you’re not,” I gathered with an apparent smile.

“No, I’m not, personally,” he told me, “But, only because I have common sense…”

I scoffed. “Common sense? That’s what this is about?”

“Yeah,” Jonah nodded firmly, “Common sense… You’d think that most people would gather ‘no killing machines on the street’ equals ‘less killing on the street’…” he murmured, only half-joking.

“Jonah,” I sigh.

“What?”

“Not everything needs to be a political debate!” I scoff.

“Isn’t… everything a political debate…?”

“That is the dumbest shit I have ever heard.”

“Come on, Sophie,” Jonah laughed, “You don’t have to act like such a ‘tough girl’ all the time, it’s okay to not wanna do something…”

“What?” I stared.

“Sophie… If you don’t wanna do this, you don’t have to,” he introduced the revolutionary concept of free will to me, “Just because we’re surrounded by people who feel a certain way doesn’t mean we have to cater to them all the time, you should be able to express—”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed. “Dude! I don’t need your saving! I’m not some damsel in distress…!”

“I never said that you were,” Jonah said softly.

“Jonah. I’m not like you,” I reminded him, “I don’t feel like some great injustice is being done to me right now…”

“So selling instruments of death is just in a day’s work for you?” Jonah demanded, unconvinced.“And, the correlation between literacy and left-leaning views must be coincidental…”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I realized this man had to have thought I was a Republican or something at this point.

“Right… Right…”

Jonah looked at me funny, more and more passive aggression creeping into his smile.

“What…?”

“Nothing,” I exhaled with a chuckle, “Just… me personally… I feel a little safer, just knowing that all the guns on the street aren’t just in the hands of cops and criminals, considering, you know… the two groups don’t necessarily have a history of being particularly mutually exclusive…?”

“Huh,” Jonah’s eyes went blank, “That is… a very good point, that I will… add into my mental framework, actually…”

I just nod. “Right, and… While you’re processing that existential crisis of the day, maybe just consider that, the further left you go, the more guns you get back…”

He nodded slowly before turning around and walking away, with widened eyes, not really sure how to handle the interaction.

-

Chapter Nine

[comfortless]

Hello! I love your work and ur such a talented writer ❤️❤️

Can I request a part 2. for “This Time Around”. It’s so good and I’d love to see more of them ☺️

thank you so much!! i am offering you a little gift through the screen do you accept… 🎁

i could not will myself to write a full part as i feel their story is very much an ‘and they lived happily ever after’ sort of thing BUT. i have been thinking about their date… it would be so cute, i think…

content/warnings: this is just fluff heheh

She doesn’t sleep the entire night after that phone call— instead, there is an abundance of planning and preparing to do. It has to be perfect, everything, right down to the finest details.

She’s spent years watching him, she knows what he likes and it should be easy despite her lack of human graces. There’s… still the urge to do the instinctive sprite things, lurking some where in her very flesh. She takes his shirts to sleep when he’s deployed, still steals any treats he may have hidden. The problem with planning for a very human date is that she simply is not human, even if she looks the part now.

The bulk of her night is spent seated on the sofa, trawling through the channels on his television for any glimpses of human romance. She’s never been very studious; there’s no need for that in her reality, where things just go easily with a touch of enchantment and revelry. Settling on one, she watches the humans on screen with rapt attention. She doesn’t realize that while film is an art, most don’t speak or behave this way in natural circumstances. She practices her swooning, the fanning of her face, her sighs and demure glances all on the couch.

Cooking is far less troublesome, at first. The giant had taught her patiently, insisting that he did not wish for her to eat little else than cookies and slices of bread during those times that he was away. She had learned how to use the kitchenware, chest fluttering with contentment any time König had taken her hand to guide her or stroked the top of her head and praised her. She promised him cake, settling on Esterházy torte when she recalls a lazy afternoon with him where he told her about his homeland. He liked his coffee black, yet he did not shy away from sweetness. Perhaps that was part of the reason that he enjoyed her company.

Only, she hadn’t anticipated that Esterházy torte would be such an utter pain to make. Her pace is frighteningly quick as she buzzes from the kitchen to the cooking instruction on screen, trying to squeeze every bit of information for the next ten minutes in her mind already bogged down with excitement; over and over for what felt like an entire century. Each layer of the treat had to be prepared separately. König was by no means a baker, and the items that she needed to prepare it properly ranging from different sized pans to certain ingredients simply… were not there.

There was no apricot jam; she settles for plucking blackberries, ripe and sweet, from just outside and making a rushed jam of her own. What was meant to be five layers is whittled down to three; a thick portion of the makeshift blackberry jam slathered between two overly fat layers of sponge cake. It’s not pretty, either. The icing isn’t evened over like the cakes in the video she watches from the kitchen’s doorway. The dark jam makes the poor thing look as though it’s spilling blood rather than seated cozily like any of the cakes in display cases. It would have to do, because the morning sun is already high in the sky by the time that she finishes it.

Getting ready for the date seems worse. The women in films were perfect; their hair was smooth and even, the colors they wore on their faces highlighted their femininity. König had never purchased her makeup, and the dresses he had filled her share of the closet with were not the same. They weren’t revealing, not enough to highlight the curves of her hips or her cleavage when she pictures herself leaning over to him to bat her eyelashes and tell him just how much she adores him.

She’s a bit sullen when she settles for the soft pink one with the lace trim that she wears often. It’s cute, but it isn’t one of the strappy, silky things she had seen in the movies. She does her best with what she has, and when she looks into the mirror for confirmation she only recalls their first meeting— where König had called her pretty, despite being several great sizes too small and covered in cookie crumbs.

All of the exertion was for naught, she realizes when the sun hangs high in the sky and the sound of the door opening pulls her from her rampant preparing. König simply looks content, more at ease than she had ever seen him when he pulls her into a hug and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. They’re already head over heels before the date even begins, as they have been for months, and she simply doesn’t realize it.

He doesn’t complain about the state of the ugly cake when she carries it into the backyard. The picnic blanket is spread out by him while she tells him about how she spent her time apart from him. He doesn’t explain the gritty details of his work this time, only that he saw flowers she may have liked on his deployment and how he wished he could take her to prettier places one day.

She seats herself in his lap while they talk, pressing bites of cake between his lips while the back of her head rests upon his shoulder. His arm curls around her waist as he does the same for her in turn. The confection… isn’t the best, not by a long shot, yet König doesn’t voice a word of complaint. Not as she does, when she grimaces from the tart flavor of the jam clashing with the cinnamon and cream. Fortunately, he only seems to find that cute, and he tells her this, harping on everything that she does that sets his heart aflame until she giggles sweetly for him.

“I wrote you a letter,” he tells her suddenly after the horrible cake has been cleared away and they’re watching the clouds above on their backs. It probably isn’t something that he would enjoy on his own, but for her… it seemed that any silly idea she supplied was met with acceptance from him.

“I didn’t get any letters.” She frowns as she points out a cloud that looks suspiciously like the cat that nearly ate her several months ago.

König reaches into his pocket and presents her with a folded note, one worn down and torn at the edges. One he probably had never had the intention to send at all. With it unfolded and held high up in her hands to read, she squints over the sloppy handwriting.

The letter is a recounting of all of the things he thought he had seen, dates supplied next to each point on the list. It begins two years prior, where he had jotted down that he thought someone must have left a doll in the house before he moved in, how he saw a tiny thing seated on the windowsill and when he looked back it was entirely gone. A strange occurrence, but not one he put too much thought into.

The list ends when he describes how his eyes had met hers when she watched him from the bookshelf, how he had seen the most beautiful thing alive in just a glimpse before she tucked herself away from him, how he had left the lights on in a small hope that she would realize he wanted to look after her. He just didn’t know how to without scaring her off.

In part, she’s horrified to know that she hadn’t been as sneaky as she once thought. However, what feels more pressing is that he had been worried for her just as she had been for him, that every little detail shared within the list was merely a mirror of her own feelings. The ever-present curiosity and the fear that one day this stranger he shared his home with may not be around any longer.

She gives him a wistful glance before flipping to the next page to continue to where the letter truly begins. It’s pure poetry, the way in which he describes his feelings, prettier than the songs she’s heard sung from the fae housed in riverbeds. He describes his elation upon meeting her, how he would check through the window of the dollhouse bedroom to see her beautiful face in dreaming, how each time they were apart he wanted little more than to return to her and simply hear her tiny voice calling out to him. It says his heart nearly shattered in his chest when he saw the change she had made for him before he realized that she loved him too, that the stuff of the silly fairytales that his oma would read to him all felt real because of her; how unintentionally he believes that she may have saved him.

‘Ich liebe dich.’ is how it ends, and he says the words aloud when her eyes rove over the sentence.

Her hands are shaking when she drops the letter onto her chest, curls her arms around it in the softest hug. Just like before, each word she wishes to say to him dies in her throat. The only difference is that now, her heart feels so full it’s overwhelming; she doesn’t feel small, but larger than even him— a strange sense of pride and fulfillment taking her over.

“I love you, too,” she says after a moment, face warmed and a smile stretching her cheeks. “I’ve always loved you, I think.”

“I know.”

Her mind whirls at that response, uncertain of what to say next. Except, she doesn’t have to speak at all. When a cloud passes, puffed up and brilliant white, shaped like the golden arrow of Cupid himself, she curls against him with her forehead pressed to his. Eyes flutter shut as an arm is dragged over her and a kiss is brushed against the tip of her nose.

[glowing-disciple]

A number of days (weeks?) ago I was browsing through one of the libraries I have access to via my phone and stumbled across The Complete Book of Kitchen Collecting by Barbera E. Mauzy.

The idea of collecting cutlery, gadgets, and other kitchenware struck me as so incredibly absurd that I added the book to my wishlist.

Well, I just started reading it.

This book is exactly what it says on the cover: it’s a history and price guide to kitchenware from 1920 - 1960 (or thereabouts). Complete with pictures and interesting details about the different items.

It’s quite well organized; each type of item has its own chapter.