#Wax Melts Market

[neha24blog]

Wax Melts Market Trends Analysis Report By Product, Pack, Application, Region And Forecast To 2030: Grand View Research Inc.

San Francisco, 26 July 2023: The Report Wax Melts Market Size, Share & Trends Analysis Report By Product (Paraffin, Soy Wax, Palm Wax, Beeswax), By Pack (Single Pack, Multi Pack), By Application (Household, Commercial), By Region, And Segment Forecasts, 2023 – 2030 The global wax melts market size is expected to reach USD 5.19 billion by 2030, according to a new report by Grand View Research,…

[paranoidgemsbok]

adding to the endless list of wack smelts

[pilfappreciator]

floyd with a bold and flirty husb male reader headcanons <333

Mans was literally tortured and almost died. LET HIM HAVE A HUBBY I SAY!!

Floyd x Reader: just an emo and his husband

Includes: Male! Reader, fluff, slight angst, depictions of marriage/domesticity, LOTS of down bad behavior (mostly on Reader's end), mentioned John Dory

💔 You guys are literally married, so chances are Floyd cares for you deeply. He's been to hell and back in the past few years so finally having someone in his life who so easily helps ease that pain by just... existing in his general area??

💔 But you're not some rabid fan who paid a fortune just to come meet him backstage so he could sign a poster. You're his HUSBAND. The two of you have HISTORY. Like he actually MARRIED your ass... there was a wedding and vows and EVERYTHING!!

💔 He's more grateful than you'll ever know <33

💔 With that being said, this man definitely gets flustered whenever you start putting the moves on him

💔 Not to say he doesn't know how to be suave and charming himself, don't get me wrong! He was in a super popular boy band back in the day, so obviously he's got SOME semblance of game going on (definitely feel like Bruce tried to teach his brothers how to bag hotties when they were younger ajshjakaak—)

💔 So yeah, he's obviously gonna react differently whenever you're the one giving him compliments lol

💔 If you're being more like? Playfully flirty?? Like as in you're coming over and leaning up against the wall beside him, giving him appreciative glances and flirting as if you've never met before???

💔 He's either gonna match your energy and reciprocate, or just sigh and roll his eyes

💔 "Hey sexy, come here often?" *bites lip*

"Please stop blocking the door to the bathroom 🙄"

💔 He'll act like he hates it he does not

💔 But he DOES hate if you smack his ass tho okay DO NOT DO IT!! He'll start having flashbacks from his Brozone days (cough cough John Dory cough cough)

💔 HOWEVER!!! If you're very genuine in your flirting? Like if you're constantly waxing poetic about how he's the most beautiful man to exist, or he catches you staring adoringly when he's trying to have a conversation with you, or he wakes up one morning to find you with the softest look in your eyes as you tell him how lucky you are to have him and how you could never be more grateful to have met????

💔 This man is turning the same shade of his hair VERY QUICKLY ALSDHLKAJDS (he might require medical attention ://)

💔 If you wanna fluster this man even more? Flirt with him in public

💔 NO CUZ LIKE?? He'll tolerate your bad pickup lines and cheesy romantic gestures in the comfort of your shared home no problem, but if you pull ANY of that shit where OTHER TROLLS CAN SEE????

💔 Screw Velvet and Veneer, call him pookie bear around any of his brothers and you're gonna be writing his obituary cuz this man WILL DIE

💔 But if you smack is ass at the farmers market you ARE getting divorced ://

💔 I feel like after the whole "being imprisoned in a diamond prison and regularly getting the life siphoned outta you for who knows how long" situation, Floyd becomes a little touch starved

💔 Maybe not in a strong sense (COUGH COUGH John Dory COUGH COUGH), but any sorta non-harmful touch definitely starts to hit different after you've been tortured for a period of time

💔 As his husband, you have a duty to hug/cuddle/caress this man as much as possible okay THAT IS NON-NEGOTIABLE!! Gently wrap your arms around him from behind as he's washing dishes, nuzzle his face when you're going to bed, rub your thumb against the back of his palm whenever you're holding hands, ANYTHING!!! He will melt <33

AHHHHH MY FAVORITE EMO!! THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT ANON THIS WAS SO CUTEE!! Floyd literally DIED in the movie okay, he deserves a husband to do troll taxes with 🥺

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA For ruining a coworker's "business opportunity?"

For a bit of context this happened in the Summer of 2020. Also I'll be using the term MLM frequently and in this case it means "multi-level marketing" so comapanies like Avon, Tupperware, Monat, Vector-Cutco, LuLaRoe, etc. A

So I have this coworker let's call her T and in July of 2020 I got a FB message from her that said "Hey girl, so I recently started my own business and I thought you would be the perfect candidate to join my team! We'll be selling cooking and bakeware which should be right up your alley given how much you love to bake! So what do you say are you ready to join my team and leave [place of employment] behind?" I was immediately suspicious about the uncharacteristic tone of her message and asked her "What is the company name?" And she responded with "Pampered Chef." (an MLM). For the record, I am extremely anti-MLM, and know from following several anti-MLM YouTubers that hardly anyone makes any kind of money in those comapanies. So I politely declined her offer. And she immediately said "But you would be perfect! It would be just like when you sold Girl Scout cookies when you were a kid! I need you to join my team!" And I told her "I'm not interested in selling bakeware for an MLM. So my answer is still no." (Also bold of her to assume I did any of the cookie selling when I was in Girl Scouts, I gave thr forms to my parents and they did the bulk of the work).

I thought that was the end of it until I got an invite to an IN-PERSON (remember this was July 2020) Pampered Chef party at her house that at that point 40 people had RSVP'd to. I declined again snd blocked the group and a few days later I got another invite which I again declined. And the process repeated several more times. One day I got one at work within earshot of the manager's office and loudly said "Oh my GOD T I'm not going to your Pampered Chef house party in the middle of a pandemic!" Which got the manager's attention (we had already had one incident where an associate's wedding turned into a super-spreader event where 20 other associates ended up missing work due to Covid) and he asked me what was going on. And me being fed up with the near constant harassment, she messaged me several times a week and even went to my dad about it (he worked at the same store we did), I told him everything. And the following day T announced on Facebook "Unfortunately due to the current state of things, I regretfully have to cancel the in-house Pampered Chef party." She had also messaged me "thanks to you I can't hold my party or recruit people from work. Why did you tell management about it?" And I told her I was fed up with the constant harassment and didn’t see any other way of making it stop. I ended up blocking T after that. And thought it was the end of it.

Until her husband messaged me on FB several weeks later "Hi, I'm [so-so] T's husband, she asked me to reach out to you on her behalf to ask you if you would be interested in joining her team at Scentsy (another MLM that sells scented wax melts) she can't seem to message you for some reason." And I responded "Sir, with all due respect I've already had to threaten to file a harassment grievance against T if she continues to try and recruit me for her "businesses." My answer is still no and I will ask you to never contact me about this again otherwise I will go through with my threat." He apologized and I never heard from him again. T on the other hand makes snide remarks about how I ruined her businesses every time we happen to be on the same shift. And how I didn't have to be a narc and go to management about it and I should have just let it be. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[maniculum]

Meadmaking

Hey all, Zoe here - the other half of this blog, and I decided to try my hand at posting - particularly my little mead-making project. Even though Mac is the medieval drinks expert, I just like mead as a drink and I feel like a potion-brewing witch when I make it. Beer was the more popular drink during the middle ages, as it was cheaper and more widely available, but I think it's nasty and who doesn't want to feel like Early English royalty?

As I dug into mead-making, I fell into a SUPER deep medieval-mead-making rabbit hole. I'm not a mead expert, and I'd highly recommend Susan Varberg's blog, Medieval Mead & Beer, for a very, very in-depth look at how to make medieval mead. HOWEVER, all that said, I did collect some research and played with it myself. Plus, I made some of my own recipes.

So. Mead. What is it? Fermented honey water, in its most basic form. Honey-wine, it can be called to those who aren't familiar. There's a lot of other names mead has when it's mixed with other things:

Mead – water, honey and yeast

Sack Mead – mead made with extra honey

Short Mead – low honey and low alcohol yeast to be drunk quickly

Hydromel – watered down mead (in period, another word for mead)

Braggot – (period) ale refermented with honey; (modern) malted mead

Melomel – mead made with fruit

Mulsum – mead made with fruit

Cyser – mead made with apples

Metheglin – mead with spices

Pyment, Clar – mead made with grape juice

Hippocras – spiced wine, sweetened (but not fermented) with honey

Botchet — caramelized honey mead

Really, though, when you see it on the shelf, a pumpkin melomel will be marketed as "Pumpkin Mead," so really only the brewmasters get into the weeds on the names. I was really curious as to how the ingredients were sourced in the middle ages - nowadays, brewers get really into where they source their ingredients (there's a bazillion different yeasts you can use!), but after doing some research, turns out the medievals were too!

Honey.

The medievals categorized honey in different ways. The best quality honey was called "life honey" and was the honey that dripped freely from the wax when pierced. Grades of honey diminished as the honey became harder to get out of the hive. The dregs of honey (collected by heating the frame in water to blend the honey but not melt the wax) was given to servants and was not preferred. Honey was also categorized by location - Egyptian honeys were very popular and expensive. Honey from different regions in Spain were considered of different quality - one merchant got particularly fussy when one of his batches was "spoiled" by mixing honey from a better region with that from a worse region. Finally, honey was categorized by flower type. One monetary requested honey made only from lavender. Since hives were highly mobile frames or skeps, it would have been possible for apiarists to move their hives to lavender fields.

Water.

Water is, well, water. Right? Not quite. Medieval recipes do specify using fine, spring water. The water and honey were often boiled together - likely to kill bacteria. However, the wording on "boille" is not super clear. Mead-masters knew that honey shouldn't be boiled (it kills natural yeast), so whether or not the must (the water/honey mix) was boiled in the modern sense or just warmed is unclear. Perhaps the need for "fine, spring, fresh water."

Yeast.

While modern brewers and vintners have a wide variety of yeasts to choose from, medieval brewmasters didn't have as many options. There were a few different options, however. Baking yeast (like a sourdough starter) was one option, while other recipes call for the leftover lees of wine/mead batches. Hops were also used. Of course, yeast is also naturally occurring, so brewers could fairly reliably rely on the natural yeast to kick-start itself.

I'll dump my own mead pics here and then get into the details of a Middle English mead recipe in part two, I guess. I'll talk a bit about the mead-making process, too. Mead is made by mixing honey and water into a must. Then, yeast is added. Modern mead-makers also add yeast nutrients and other additions to ensure their batch doesn't get infected.

A newly made bottle of mead. Notice the cloudy colour characteristic of new mead. As the yeast eats the sugars, they'll create a bottom layer of debris and the mead will clear, as seen below.

After the primary fermentation has occurred (you can tell when the bubbles of gas, telling you the yeast is eating, have stopped), mead-makers will re-reack their mead. This involves moving it from one jug to the next.

At this point, the mead can be put into a closet and age for a while. The best meads have high clarity - that is, they're clear! The example below is only about 2 months old. It has a way to go, but has good clarity already. Notably, the sagas state that the best, oldest, clearest meads were served to Odin and the gods.

Anyway - that's the basics of mead-making. I'll make a part two about older recipes! Sources:

Beekeeping in late medieval Europe: A survey of its ecological settings and social impacts. Llu.s SALES I FAVÀ, Alexandra SAPOZNIK y Mark WHELAN

Trade, taste and ecology: honey in late medieval Europe. Alexandra Sapoznik, Lluís Sales i Favà & Mark Whelan

Of Boyling and Seething: A re-evaluation of these common cooking terms in connection with brewing. Susan Verberg.

[marilynthornhilllover]

Wanna get drunk & nasty ?

Brienne of tarth x fem! Princess reader

Warning: indecent language, drinking of high beverages, kissing, almost smut, candle wax kink.

Authors note:

Keep in mind I haven't watch the entire game of thrones show I only watched a couple seasons 😪and this is my first brienne fanfic ;)

°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆

You were ridiculously horny and just needed to be fucked. You had just arrived back from your coronation so you were now an official princess.

You always admired your body guard brienne. Yes the great brienne of tarth. Knight of seven kingdoms.

Brienne was a natural beauty. But on other hands she never felt like she was. She was kind, brave, confident and above all, stood no nonsense or bullshit from anyone. Especially men.

On your 20th birthday brienne swore to rule by your side and protect you at all cost.

When you first met brienne you were absolutely taken away by her beauty.

Tall, sexy, beautiful golden blonde hair. With the perfect pale skin.

She noticed the way you looked at her. And you noticed the way she looked at you as well.

Everytime you went sword fighting with her she'd always find an excuse to have you close to her. Have your lips closer to hers.

The way she'd fight with you would make your core throb. You'd always melt inside for her. Her tall figure over yours. Sweating, panting even whimpering at times.

It all made you every horny. There were times where you were at royal events with your parents and just zone out thinking about how good she would fuck you.

Everytime, you caught her staring at you, she'd just quickly look away and pretend to be doing something.

You knew she felt the same way. She had to right?

You wanted to find out, and today was just the right day. It was a royal holiday. Meaning everyone would be at the general market including your parents. Royal holidays were atleast 3 days long.

Your parents wouldn't be back home in 3 days. You overheard them telling brienne to keep a close eye on you, since you had the record of seeking out.

You had just woken up, it was a little bit after noon. You were surprised at how long you've slept. It was around lunch time. You didn't even get to say good bye to your parents before they left.

You were ready to take your morning shower but you were forgetting one thing. You wanted to lay in the bathtub with hot milk and roses but your candles weren't lit. You were always scared of fire, mostly scared of getting burned by accident.

You opened your window to see brienne practicing sword fight in the court yard.

" can I ask you a favor my ser?" She immediately halted her movements and turned to look your way.

God she looked holy. Hair disheveled, nose slightly red from the cold, pupils blown. It was certainly a sight to see.

" anything my lady" she replied, placing her sword back in its place on her side. She tilted her head to the side and licked her eyes as she placed her hands on her hips. You almost forgot what you wanted from her.

" I need you to light my candles if you don't mind" you said, she nodded and made her way inside the castle and up to your room.

In the mean while, you got into the bathtub and laid back, moaning at how relaxing the sensation was.

" my lady?" You heard her call out, peeking behind the bathroom door slightly.

" you can come in" you said lifting your body slightly out of the water so that you can sit up. What you didn't know was that now your breast was showing.

Nipples hard, water dripping from them. Briennes eyes quickly caught sight of them and looked away.

It made her feel things. She couldn't get the image out of her head now, but she tried her best not to look back again.

She lit the candles and proceeded to leave. But that's when her eyes caught sight of a tequila bottle, half empty.

Anger was quick to build up in her. If your parents were to find out that you've been drinking god knows what they'll do to her.

She turned around and tired to speak as calmly as possible.

" what is this" you turned your head to look up at her your boobs still in her sight. You followed her eye line and your eyes quickly widen. She wasn't supposed to see that.

"Shit" you mumbled as you got out of the tub all naked. You hit the bottle with your body. Her eyes raked up your body, she was definitely eye fucking you.

She cleared her throat and refocused her eyes on yours. When her eyes met your gaze, she had a different look in her eyes. It was lust and desire.

"Can I kiss you my lady?" She asked looking at the ground. You smirked, how can the great brienne of tarth be so shy when her record was always to be brave and confident.

" I thought you'd never ask" you replied under your breath. She quickly pushed you against the wall and pressed her lips on yours.

You moaned as she forced her tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You were so lost in the kiss that you didn't even realize that she had pushed your legs apart and place her knee in between them.

Feeling the cold armor against your cunt made you moan, and you broke the kiss.

" please daddy" you whined, grinding your hips on her armor. She removed her leg and wrapped her big hands around your neck tightly.

Honestly that turned you on more. You just wanted her to destroy you. Ruin you. Make you hers. Make you unable to walk for any upcoming royal events, that's to come.

" does my little slut want daddy's cock, want daddy to stuff you full of her cum, yeah" your head fell back as your eyes rolled back, you could just imagine how good she felt.

She choked you tighter as she leaned into your ear.

" maybe next time. Til then can you wait y/n can you be a good girl for daddy?" She asked nibbling on your earlobe.

You nodded, your head still deep in your trance.

Brienne picked up a candle and poured the melted wax on your leg. You moaned in pain and pleasure, looking down on your leg to see the wax already getting hard on your leg.

You looked up at her to see that she was awaiting her response and quickly answered.

" Yes daddy, I'll wait like the good girl I am for you"

" good girl" she said letting go of your neck.

" next time maybe I'll teach you how to ride" she mumbled before leaving.

You still felt her lips on you, her hand around your neck, her knee inbetween your legs pressed on your cunt, the candle wax. You needed more.

But until next time, you were gonna be a good girl.....

Pt 2? ;)

[buradeeznuts]

Cheese is a food derived from milk that is produced in a wide range of flavors, textures, and forms by coagulation of the milk protein casein. It comprises proteins and fat from milk, usually the milk of cows, buffalo, goats, or sheep. During production, the milk is usually acidified, and adding the enzyme rennet causes coagulation. The solids are separated and pressed into final form. Some cheeses have molds on the rind or throughout. Most cheeses melt at cooking temperature.

Hundreds of types of cheese from various countries are produced. Their styles, textures and flavors depend on the origin of the milk (including the animal's diet), whether they have been pasteurized, the butterfat content, the bacteria and mold, the processing, and aging. Herbs, spices, or wood smoke may be used as flavoring agents. The yellow to red color of many cheeses, such as Red Leicester, is produced by adding annatto. Other ingredients may be added to some cheeses, such as black pepper, garlic, chives or cranberries.

For a few cheeses, the milk is curdled by adding acids such as vinegar or lemon juice. Most cheeses are acidified to a lesser degree by bacteria, which turn milk sugars into lactic acid, then the addition of rennet completes the curdling. Vegetarian alternatives to rennet are available; most are produced by fermentation of the fungus Mucor miehei, but others have been extracted from various species of the Cynara thistle family. Cheesemakers near a dairy region may benefit from fresher, lower-priced milk, and lower shipping costs.

Cheese is valued for its portability, long life, and high content of fat, protein, calcium, and phosphorus. Cheese is more compact and has a longer shelf life than milk, although how long a cheese will keep depends on the type of cheese; labels on packets of cheese often claim that a cheese should be consumed within three to five days of opening. Generally speaking, hard cheeses, such as parmesan last longer than soft cheeses, such as Brie or goat's milk cheese. The long storage life of some cheeses, especially when encased in a protective rind, allows selling when markets are favorable.

There is some debate as to the best way to store cheese, but some experts[who?] say that wrapping it in cheese paper provides optimal results. Cheese paper is coated in a porous plastic on the inside, and the outside has a layer of wax. This specific combination of plastic on the inside and wax on the outside protects the cheese by allowing condensation on the cheese to be wicked away while preventing moisture from within the cheese escaping.

A specialist seller of cheese is sometimes known as a cheesemonger. Becoming an expert in this field requires some formal education and years of tasting and hands-on experience, much like becoming an expert in wine or cuisine. The cheesemonger is responsible for all aspects of the cheese inventory: selecting the cheese menu, purchasing, receiving, storage, and ripening.

[neverchecking]

Day 15: Temperature Play- With Ravio

"Oh Cinder you sure took your sweet time with this one-" Yeah I forgot. Whoops mb sorry. but hey it's out now right?

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: wax play...I think thats it? It's pretty tame all things considered. like I wouldn't even really consider this smut. maybe foreplay.

This is Day fifteen of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< Day 14 >>>Day 16

“Oh, darling!” 

He wasn’t sure what tempted him to this idea. Not entirely. But he was always a curious fellow with honed tastes for the finer things in life. The refined wines and artisanal breads that fetched quite a pretty price at the farmers market, or maybe the jewels that bedazzled and shined in intricately woven jewelry. Ravio had always enjoyed them and liked to treat himself to such a thing when times were generous and he had the means to do so. Recently there has been quite the uptick in business as of late, so when he passed by these candles he just couldn’t bring himself to pass them up!

Intricate swirls of blues and golds with marigolds and forget-me-nots stamped around the outer walls of the teacup were what originally caught his eye, making him pause, but it was what was in the cup that had him handing over the needed rupees. Solid white and nothing unassuming until the merchant explained it wasn’t wax, but instead a lotion that could be used as the candle was lit and it melted. 

It was such a deliciously devious idea that had his tongue drying in his mouth as it was packaged for him. 

When the idea was brought up to you, he bit his tongue to refrain from swaying your decision, but nothing could keep the smile of elation from lighting up his features when you agreed. 

And oh, how worth it it was for the small price he paid. Watching the drops of smelted lotion fall onto your fair skin, muscles twitching at the shock of heat, made his cock just ache at the sight as he pushed the limits of your absolute threshold. Holding the teacup just over your back as you squirmed in anticipation, or dipping the tip of his finger into the lotion if only to hover it above your spine and watch you move against it. Hovering the flicker of the flame just under your chin to keep your head high made his entire body just burn (Pun intended) in anticipation. He was sure if driven, he could um from this alone. 

Not only was it dangerously erotic, but it was oh-so intimate as well. Letting his palms run over your shoulders, collecting the rapidly cooling lotion and massaging it into your supple skin, molding it to his hands and hearing your salivating groans. He was sure, if he was paying any attention to himself, his erection would be downright painful, but how could he focus on something as simple as that when he could focus on you? Every single part of you.  The connection of just touching you and feeling you with both your entire mind, body and soul naked and barren just for him and him alone. 

The romantic aspect of it all made his heart thrum in his own rush for simply more. 

With a grin, he merely upturned the cup once more, hearing you cry out at the sudden snap of heat now pooling in the curve of your back.

In time, he would make such sweet love to you, thanking you for letting him worship you, but for now? 

He’d see how long this teacup would last him.

[unsoundedcomic]

So, on the subject of the soul / cheese knife... what would efheby venom taste like? Would it damage your soul or memories to ingest, or does it have to be injected by fangs? What if you got an open ulcer or something?

Really good questions.

The Black Tongues are in a position to answer many of these thanks to Ruckmearkha's affable generosity over the last few months. He's happily allowed himself to be milked over many a crystal beaker. His venom is amber-coloured, slightly luminescent, and tastes and smells like sweet, burning metal. Bastion's described it as smelling like the sun would smell. Not the sun on a warm spring day but the sun in the desert at high noon; the sun that bleaches all colours to white, all bones to white, melts the horizon like wax, and reflects white and blinding off the water.

The test subjects who drank it found its effect similar to direct injection, with a much more mild, delayed effect and shorter duration. It seems that digestion dilutes it before it hits the blood and then soul, resulting in a pleasant euphoria rather than delirious debilitation. With more convenient access, efheby venom could prove quite lucrative on the drug market.

Venom can also be introduced to the soul via an open sore, as you suggested, but it's difficult to get the same dose that fangs manage. That's what the fangs were designed for, after all.

[small-sinclair]

Okay so I’ve just watched house of wax for the first time? It was a solid movie! Vincent’s so my little guy 🥺

He is! He’s such a lil guy :3:

Random Vincent Sinclair Headcanons

He loves to eat Wendy’s nuggets.

Vincent once had a pet snake named Bubbles, but it died when he was 12.

He can do backflips and par-core.

One time, he burped the alphabet. Lester was really impressed.

Bo and Vincent have twin telepathy. If they are back to back and facing a group of tourists who have weapons, they are an unstoppable force because both knew each other’s moves.

When a victim was dying, she gave him her mushroom squashmellow to keep safe. He hugs it now and then and keeps the promise.

There’s a picture of him and his brothers in his pocket.

He collects Pokémon cards and trades with Lester. Bo doesn’t understand but he likes the art style.

He does know how to fix cars, but he prefers not to do it.

His hugs are warm and tight hugs. Like the protective ones.

He does enter his art into art shows (statues with no dead bodies). He has Lester sell, and Bo markets it. His art does sell good, too. The last one sold for $670,000.

He doesn’t know how to swim.

When he does go to town, he wears a “Phantom of the Opera” style mask. People think it’s pretty neat that he wears that, some are even impress when Lester brags about how Vincent makes them himself!

He does, indeed, have cat ears.

In the movie, he’s seen wearing a hair clip. So, I believe he has different ones that he collected from tourists.

When a family with a baby came to town for a new tire, the Sinclairs didn’t kill them because they don’t kill babies or families with a baby. The mother saw Vincent in the museum and started asking him about his artwork while her husband was helping Bo fix his car (and smoking cigarettes). The mother let Vincent hold him while she took a photo of a painting. When he looked down at the baby, his heart melts. He loves babies and he loves holding them.

[alhaithams-big-naturals]

Dragon Alhaitham Cytham AU that my friend @durasposts helped inspired me to write hehe (it was their idea! I just wrote it as a fic :3)

~

There was a fire. Alhaitham managed to grab a single book from his study, the only one he knew that he had to protect, even if it cost a limb.

A dragon's treasure is a precious thing. Their hoard could be anything and for Alhaitham it was his books.

He wasn't sure how the fire started.

Books are perfect kindling so all it took was one flame.

With the book clutched to his chest, his tail flipped back and forth. He clutched his book tighter as someone tried to pull his arm away.

His wings were folded on his back and usually he would spread them to get the assailant out of his face, but...

He snapped back to reality to see Cyno pulling a yelling Kaveh away.

He shut up as soon as Cyno crouched down and watched Alhaitham slowly untense.

Carefully, he moved Alhaitham’s left arm before frowning. It was hardly unnoticeable, but that brought Alhaitham fully back.

He hissed in pain.

"Do we have a Hydro vision user nearby?" Cyno called and when no one answered, he tried again, "What about Cryo?"

There was a shuffling in the gathered crowd as Layla nervously ran forward. Soon enough Cyno had some melted ice that was slowly getting warmer. Once it was cool enough, he cleaned Alhaitham burned arm and singed wing.

Next was loose bandaging until they could get him to the bimarstan.

"Don't worry.* Cyno reassured, as Kaveh checked him over, "I'll be the one looking into this."

Alhaitham nodded and Kaveh grabbed his right hand. Together they walked towards the bimarstan.

~

Only when Alhaitham was done getting the burns cleaned and bandaged did Kaveh let his hand go.

Just to grab his face, smushing his cheeks and looking at him with tears in his eyes before pulling him into a tight hug.

Alhaitham was shocked and tense at first, but soon enough melted into the hug. He found his walls breaking as he sobbed into the other man's shoulder.

Kaveh ran his fingers through his hair and murmured softly to him. When he calmed down enough, he planted a single kiss on his forehead.

That's when Alhaitham noticed Cyno standing in the doorway.

He quickly said his goodbyes and left them alone.

Cyno cleared his throat and spoke first, "I know a dragon's hoard is important to them..."

He handed him a well loved book. A 'King of Invokations' book to be exact.

Running his hand over the paper back's tearing covering, he had a soft smile on his face, but...

"I can't possibly take this from you Cyno."

Cyno thought for a moment, "I'm letting you borrow it. Until you can get your hoard back."

Alhaitham nodded stiffly then looked back at the book.

"Thank you..."

~

It turned out that was simply only the beginning. Now, Cyno came almost every week to give him a new book.

An excuse on his tongue, the truth swallowed for the sake of sparing the reminder.

A "Saw this and thought of you" or a "Found this on my trip out to the desert".

Kaveh had drawn up and had started working on a new study. More fireproof he claimed.

A candle was found in the ashes or what was a candle.

Alhaitham could remember that Kaveh brought it home that day.

It was marketed at an electric candle, but whatever had been used as a power source had malfunctioned.

The scholar who made it apologized profusely as well as Kaveh. Alhaitham to the latter simply made the decision that for now on they will only be buying wax candles.

As he was thinking about this, his wings drooped as he frowned. He had been doing his required daily stretching. Carefully, mindful of the healing areas.

Someone behind him cleared their throat and Alhaitham glanced behind him.

Cyno.

He found himself smiling for some reason.

Said man held two books in his hands.

"Tighnari heard about what happened and offered these two books to give you."

Alhaitham took them carefully, looking at the titles. Both were about flora and fauna. One Sumeru specific, the other was a general one for every reigon.

"Send him my thanks for me."

Cyno nodded, "I will."

He spotted a bandage on Cyno's hand suddenly and a chill ran down his spine. His tail swished.

"What happened there?"

"Ah." Cyno seemed caught off guard, "I went up against... a pyro vision wielder recently."

Alhaitham eyes him suspiciously, but let it go with a nod.

~

Before he knew it, Kaveh had finished the new study and Alhaitham started filling the shelves with his new book hoard.

Of course, his most important book, one with a note from his Grandmother, goes on his new desk.

Except... he couldn't find it.

It was gone.

Cyno found him with all the new books pulled off their new shelves and him crying quietly in the corner, wings wrapped around himself.

He set the book he was holding on the desk and crouched down. Almost instantly Alhaitham opened his wings and upon seeing Cyno, he brought him in. He clung on to him like his life depended on it.

"What's wrong..?" He nervously asked, "No need to tail me though."

Alhaitham blinked and then gave Cyno a small smile. Just his presence made him feel better.

"My book..." he mumbled.

Cyno froze.

"I have something to show you."

Alhaitham wasn't sure he liked this.

"I won't let this dragon any longer." He attempted to lighten the mood, but Alhaitham’s tail just started swishing back in forth nervously.

He picked up the book he had brought.

It was his. The one his grandmother gifted him.

"I fireproofed it." Cyno explained, "It took some trial and error, but I am Spantamad graduate."

Alhaitham held it in his hands.

He gently placed it on his desk before kissing Cyno.

"Sorry... I just..." Alhaitham shrunk back, uncharacteristically nervous.

A blush was on both of their faces.

Cyno smiled, a familar smirk when he cane up with a pun, "Well, I can't tail a lie to you."

Alhaitham held his breath.

"I treasure you."

Alhaitham embraced him.

"Thank you." He spoke softly, "I love you."

In that moment, he realized that while he thought his hoard had been his treasure, it wasn't. He would trade anything and everything for Cyno.

But he didn't have to.

Alhaitham smiled to himself and together they put the books on the shelves.

And on his desk lay two books, both well loved.

[spookysalem13]

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[inkykeiji]

3 with flawless Tomura please 🙈

prompt: strawberry moon series: flawless AU warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, female reader, daddy kink, lots of saliva, lots of sugar, little bit of public indecency, blowjobs + cum swallowing words: 1.4k

Laying on the sand with a thick fringed blanket, you’re the only two left on the beach, most of the other patrons having packed up and left the moment the sun began to sink. Waves tenderly lap at the shore behind you, the scent of artificial strawberry twining with the sea breeze, making the air salty sweet.

It’s nice. Despite being out in the open, something about it feels intimate; cozy, almost, scene backlit by a strawberry moon, stained pink with the glow of the sun emanating from just beyond the horizon—a hazy cloud that shimmers gold and magenta, it’s brilliance reflected on the gently wavering water. 

“The moon looks like a strawberry,” you sigh out dreamily, arms tightening around Tomura’s waist as you hug yourself closer, a leg hitched over his hip.

“Strawberries seem to be a theme lately,” Tomura murmurs as bony fingers pick at the wax paper enveloping a piece of salt water taffy—strawberry, his second favourite, since they were out of watermelon—voice vibrating against your ear. “Maybe it’s a sign.” 

“A sign? A sign of what?”

“That we should go strawberry picking,” he shrugs, popping the pink candy in his mouth and speaking around it, hard taffy clacking against his teeth. 

“Really?” your head lifts from off his chest to peer up at him. 

“Sure, why not?” 

“Maybe we can bake something with them after.” 

“Me? Bake?” he snorts, like the concept is downright preposterous. “Baby, I don’t even know how to use the fucking oven.” 

“Alright, maybe Kurogiri can bake us something,” you revise. 

A hum of contemplation vibrates on his tongue, soft and melty. “Yeah, maybe that’d be nice.” 

You do, in fact, go strawberry picking during the next week, at a family owned and operated farm your father used to take you to when you were a child. 

It’s a beautiful June day, deep blue sky embroidered with puffs of white cotton as the sun’s rays play between them. You and Tomura spend an absurd amount of time inside the little market at the front of the farm, diligently picking through all of the sweets—homemade fudge and freshly baked cookies and maple sugar candies—leaving the small shop with armfuls of treats, to fuel your berry picking expeditions, he reasons. 

And, really, who are you to say otherwise? Daddy knows best, so what Daddy says goes, always. 

It’s romantic in a sense, the ten minute wagon ride spent sharing a block of double chocolate caramel swirl fudge between the two of you, taking turns eating pieces from each other’s fingers, the hot June sun leaving thick smudges of it on your fingertips. 

Tomura’s hand cuffs your wrist just as the final piece of fudge is melting on your tongue, bringing your fingers to his mouth and wrapping his lips around your index, slowly sucking the remnants of chocolate and caramel from it, and each and every one after it, mouth puckering and cheeks hollowing as his tongue curls in a wet embrace around the digits.

By the time he’s finished licking your hand clean your fingers glitter with a syrupy slave of saliva, spit tinged brown from the cocoa, viscous drops of it rolling down your palms to settle in the lines. 

“Your turn,” he says with a cheeky smirk, holding his large hand out to you, fingers caked with soft fudge wiggling a little in enticement.

And you, good little girl that you are, wrap two hands around his wrist, steadying his hand before taking his index finger down your throat, mouth clamping over it with dedicated earnest and sucking hard. Your tongue wreathes around it, slurping the fudgy residue clean from his skin and swallowing, the sudden constricting of your throat pulling a soft little sound from deep within his chest, unblinking eyes staring at him with such pure devotion it almost hurts. 

But Tomura isn’t looking into your eyes, his own eyes gaping at your lips, shiny and slicked with spit, watching the way your lips swell with each bony knuckle that passes through them as you slowly pull off his finger.

You do the same for every other one, too—middle, ring, pinky, thumb—and by the end of it he’s exhaling little pants through slightly parted lips, glazed eyes fixated on your mouth, cock half hard and twitching pathetically in his jeans.

That’s when it starts.

But it doesn’t stop there. Oh no.

Because why would it, with you? Because when does it ever, with you?

You aren’t even modest with it, legs kept straight as you bend, back perpendicular to the muddy ground and ass stuck out, to pick through one of the strawberry bushes, the hem of your cute little dress hitching with the motion, material fluttering in the perpetual soft breeze and gifting Tomura with glimpses of the pink silk clinging to your cheeks beneath.

No, there’s nothing modest about the way you look at him as you bite into a particularly large, particularly juicy strawberry, eyes glinting in the late afternoon sun and lips shimmering, glossed with strawberry juice that collects in the corners of your mouth and runs down your chin in glistening drops to drip onto your cleavage, gathering in the divots and streaking your skin with glimmering pink trails, mouth curling into a playful little smirk, giggles sticking in your throat.

Nor is there anything modest about the way your strawberry-soaked tongue keeps stealing little kitten licks, laving over the self-inflicted scars crisscrossing on Tomura’s neck with hot, strawberry-steeped breath, traces of the sweet scent clinging to his skin, tickling his nose and watering his mouth.

God, he’s too fucking easy.

God, he fucking loves you.

Really, he should punish you; that’s what any good Daddy would do, would drag your bratty little ass from the strawberry fields without bringing a single berry home, wicker basket spilling its crimson guts on the dirt floor as a large hand encircles your wrist and yanks, hard, hard enough to have you yelping, hard enough to have you stumbling over your own ankles, and reprimand you for such tasteless, disgraceful behaviour. 

And he will. 

But he lets you have your fun first, lets you romp and frolic through the bushy green fields as you give him little teases and tastes—because he loves it, too—mentally tallying up your punishments with playful growls in his chest and a predatory grin spread across his cheeks.

It’s the sweetest torture—literally and figuratively—and by the time the sun is setting and your wicker baskets are overflowing with ruby berries, he’s nearly about to crawl out of his sugar-stained skin. 

“You are fucking unbelievable,” Tomura’s muttering into your neck as you await the wagon to take you back to the entrance, arms twined tightly around your waist with his chin resting on your shoulder, his hips subtly rutting against you, hard cock grinding against your ass.

“Hey, you started it,” you’re giggling, pushing back against him and reveling in the muted groan it pulls from his throat.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna finish it, too, you little brat.”

And finish it, he does.

Because at the end, after all of your teasing, your strawberry stained lips and strawberry-tinged kisses with strawberry flesh in your teeth, Daddy finally takes what’s rightfully his, on the side of some dilapidated, seldomly used country backroad, in his pretty candy apple red Maybach. 

And he finishes with his cock shoved in that pretty mouth of yours, thick cum spilling down your throat, it’s bitter mixing with the strawberry’s sweet, creating an intoxicating concoction. 

He stuffs your mouth full of it, so much so that it collects in crevices of your cheeks and the creases beneath your tongue, so much so that when he pulls his cock from your lips, after you’ve swallowed several times, there’s still thick cords of ivory, webbed and viscous, connecting your tongue to his cock. 

Cum dribbles from the corners of your lips in the prettiest pale pink, dyed by your strawberry infused spit. His thumb swipes through it messily, smearing it across your chin in a stroke of glistening cream, and pushes the substance collected on the pad of his finger back into your diligent mouth, lips closing around it automatically, dutifully, and sucking it back into their heat, tongue curling around the stout digit to sop up any remnants of cum it can, licking it clean. 

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” he murmurs, repeating the action again, eyes dark and blown with a morbid fascination as he watches you eat. “Maybe we should go fruit picking more often, huh?” 

If it ends like this, you’re drooling out, gazing up at him so dreamily, so devotedly, you’ll do anything. 

[f1-disaster-bi]

That Norstappen small town supermarket / bakery idea has healed a bit of my heart after today's events. Such a cute idea!!! You always turn people's asks into such great ideas!!

Thank you! I'm glad it could be a comfort. It was just such a sweet idea and I thought we could use some sweetness.

Since yesterday is still very present and awful, have another small thing!

Max's palms felt oddly sweaty as he rubbed them against his jeans. His gaze fixed on the little bakery that was tucked away between George's bookshop and Fernando's flower shop. He hadn't seen Lando since the bakery had opened, and Max knew that was a good thing. He knew it meant the busniess was doing well, and that Lando's suppliers that he had complained to Max about once or twice, were working out. He had heard Daniel waxing poetics about the eclair he had gotten from Lando for breakfast, and listened to the little old ladies that he helped with their groceries talk about the sweet young man who gave them their tea's for free with the pasteries they had ordered from him. Max had meant to call in on opening day but there had been issues in the store. He hadn't been able to get away in time, and since then, Max had been too busy with Oscar sick and Logan doing exams until now. Oscar was back, and Logan had finished exams yesterday and while he looked a little hungover and worse for wear, Max knew they'd keep the market running. He just didn't fully understand why he was so nervous as he appraoched the bakery, smiling at some of the town's other inhabitants, waving at them as they passed by. When he opened the door, a little bell tingled, making Max smile. It was a soft gentle sound, but enough to alert Lando who looked up at him from where he was artfully arranging the display case. His eyes lit up as he saw Max, a smile playing on his lips. He had a streak of flour across his nose. He looked beautiful, standing there among his creations and just looking at Max as if he had been waiting for him to come. "I wondered when you'd make it down here", Lando laughed softly, leaning on the counter after closing the case, "I heard about the leak in your roof from Daniel. Is it okay now?" Of course Daniel was gossiping with that big mouth of his. "It's all patched up", Max nodded, approaching the counter with a grin as he looked around the bakery, "I love what you did with this place. It feels so...cosy and homey, and whatever you've been baking smells amazing. Seriously, congradulations Lando" Lando ducked his head under Max's gaze. A soft pink blush dusted his cheeks, and from what Max could see, his cute teeth nibbled at his lips before he looked back up at Max. "Thank you. I never thought I could do something like this", Lando admitted, scratching at his chin as he shifted, "I loved baking with my Bomma as a kid, and her kitchen always felt...like home so I wanted here to feel that way too" Max wanted to melt under the soft admission. He wanted to wrap Lando in a hug and kiss those messy curls, to brush that flour from his nose and place a kiss there but he didn't. He'd only known Lando a few weeks, and he didn't realise you could fall for someone this quick and hard before now. "Well, you succeeded", Max offered instead with a smile, "It's great Lando. Everything looks great, and I bet it tastes amazing too" Lando, again, gave him a grin before something caught his attention and he was looking at Max with excitment. "How about a kiss?" If Max had had anything in his mouth, he would be choking right now as his heart thumped wildly and he looked at Lando in surprise at the other's forwardness considering how shy he had always been. "Oh that sounds rude", Lando babbled, slapping a hand to his face before he pulled on some gloves and reached into the case to pull out a plate of biscuits, "These are called Lady's Kiss, they're a biscuit that I finally nailed. Do you want one?"

[catchyhuh]

candles. just. candles

don’t you love the unimportant questions i ask myself at 2 am about jigen daisuke. how DOES he feel about wax melts vs traditional wick candles. how DOES he feel. i will be getting more indepth about this than anyone has a right to

lupin:

oh baby

the only guy who unironically would love a candle as a present. you picked out a smell?? you picked out a smell you thought he would like and slash or made you think of him? a scent? something so difficult to pinpoint and describe? wait you paid how much for this? i don’t. well. i dunno if it’s… thirty dollars touching but it IS TOUCHING!

candles in ALL shapes and sizes. who give a shit. he’s half french and frenchies love that faux romantic shit like nobody else. fujiko enters the building, smells Wild Rose & Suede and just walks right back outside with no change in facial expression

when he was a kid he really really liked wax melts because it was fun to watch them slowly . melt. as wax melts do BUT he saw the candle wax stamp shit and suddenly he’s all about calling cards. suddenly grandpa doesn’t need to teach him shit about the importance and fun of calling cards he’s just ALL about calling cards and still is to THIS DAY

jigen:

well. this may shock you. but jigen is picky.

really his preference would be no candles i imagine but his sense of smell is already kinda busted anyhow so if you lit one two rooms over. he probably wouldnt notice! but if he IS noticing it’s best to go with some basic, almost unnoticeable thing. like. linen. or whatever (although being fair i do love a good linen)

the only candles he really has an opinion on are birthday candles. gotta have birthday candles. just for the comedy of sticking a candle in someone’s egg and ham biscuit at 6:14 in the morning 

but i have an answer for that initial question: wick truther. no matter how many times he hasn’t been paying full attention and has accidentally singed himself with the lighter. can’t spell wick without w

fujiko:

iiiii take it back fujiko could also be charmed by a candle gift. provided the gift giver a. also included a tiffany hairband or something or b. was somebody actually sincere that she really does like to some extent. who wasn’t rich. and couldn’t afford the tiffany hairband to go with the candle

like i said with perfumes and even her hair in canon and a million other things she doesn’t let herself get locked on the same thing for very long, but i can see her having one specific scent she really enjoys and maybe getting two or three. i almost typed buying. can you imagine. i almost typed fucking “fujiko mine might BUY some candles.” i really am tired

don’t underestimate the power of a good candle that shit can help you sleep for a week, calm you down from the worst day of your life, just make you appreciate the world for 5 minutes or even keep you uncomfortably awake for as long as you need. scent psychology. she looked into it when making those sleeping gas perfume bottles

probably saving one really nice candle for some event on the horizon like “we got the thing!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳” or “we didn’t die!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳” 

goemon:

okay goemon is like. whatever about candles themselves. they smell nice. that’s kind of the opinion most people have because who… has an opinion on candles? but you know what he REALLY has an opinion on. candle HOLDERS.

he sees those little silhouettes carved out of the world’s cheapest nonflammable materials with the big dish at the bottom to catch excess wax and he’s like what an ART FORM. what an underappreciated necessity and ART FORM

so he gets a bit internally disappointed when lupin brings home some shit in glass. which is 70% of the market as of 1995. sorry goemon

also really enjoys those candles with the hollowed out center so they light up the non-melting wax on the outside. if anybody knows what those are. i saw them at a craft fair once! they had a zelda one.

just generally assume any novelty candle is his shit. i mean it’s… carving. you know he loves that stuff. and destroying the work by letting it melt is probably some metaphor he’d love and brood over for like an hour too it’s GREAT for him!

zenigata:

… candles? like. vague gesture here. candles? who has an opinion on candles? why would anybody care that much about… candles?? (quote from a grown man who gets giggly when he sees a teeny tiny bland vanilla scented candle in a hotel room)

zenigata has strong opinions on fucking cherry tomatoes vs sliced tomatoes in his salad with a trillion other ingredients in it. of COURSE he has some indecipherable passion about some nothing shit like candles

very much a candle warmer dude. sometimes the wick burns out before the candle is finished and now you’ve got a busted candle! for that matter the flame could be a FIRE HAZARD, if you aren’t paying attention. plus it keeps all the heat condensed into one spot (philosophy of a grown man who certainly didn’t get burnt six times trying to light the same candle one time)

unfortunately the longer i think about it the more everything about a candle seems like a bad idea for him. wax gets everywhere, the fire, the glass, smells really good but he immediately gets used to the smell and forgets to turn it off later, REALLY, THIS ISN’T A GOOD THING FOR HIM!