#Winter Sun Cocktail
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askwhatsforlunch · 4 months ago
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Winter Sun
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This cocktail, which I've called Winter Sun for its pale, brilliant glow, mirroring a cold day's skies, is a seasonal version of the, bergamot bringing an aromatic roundness to it. It is also easy enough to mix, should you want to serve it to guests at your Holiday parties!
Ingredients (serves 1):
10 ice cubes
half a large, ripe bergamot
60 millilitres/2 fluid ounces (4 tablespoons) good quality London Dry Gin
15 millilitres/½ fluid ounce (1 tablespoon) Honey Syrup 
Fill a shaker with ice. Thoroughly squeeze the juice of the bergamot and pour over the ice. Add Gin and Honey Syrup. Close shaker tightly, and shake energetically for about 45 seconds until well-chilled.
Strain into a coupe glass.
Enjoy Winter Sun  immediately.
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More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos
(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)
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People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.
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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.
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The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ
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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-
The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.
The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.
He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.
Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.
Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.
The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.
Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.
It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.
He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.
Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.
His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.
She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.
A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.
Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.
He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.
A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.
However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.
With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.
“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.
He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.
He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.
Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.
So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.
“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.
The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.
The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.
Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.
When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.
Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.
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mywritersmind · 5 months ago
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ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.1
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summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : suggestive themes! swearing! ‘enemies’ to lovers. probably my last sunny vacation fic for a while! get ready for winter fics!! cmt to be tagged in pt. 2 <3
word count : 4570
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Y/n!” Kika throws a pillow onto me. I groan in response, pulling the blanket over my head, “Get up! Get up! We’re leaving in thirty!”
I fall off the bed and start my rushed process of getting ready, we’re in Marmaris, Turkey for a little holiday. A holiday that I've been promised is for friends, yet every friend I have is with a man.
Kika, Alex, Rebecca, and Lily promised they would act like single ladies with me! That’s clearly not true because of the love they have for their boyfriends and how those same men never leave their sides.
The only other addition is someone I don’t want to talk about. Someone who’s a pain in my ass and the construction to my headache.
I’m instantly in a better mood when my friends and I start taking photos and making tik toks. I’m in a light blue dress and sandals, my skin is practically yearning to be tan but that will start tomorrow.
I have my own hotel room which I intend to spend no time in unless I'm hooking up with a hot turkish man. Lily holds my hand as we start walking. The guys said they would meet us there and I’ll never not treasure time with my girls.
The sun has already set but the sky is still a dark blue and orange. Lily squeals next to me, she’s in the cutest white mini dress, “I can’t believe we’re here!”
Kika laughs in a long yellow dress, “The trip literally made it out of the group chat!”
I eye them, “More like it was infiltrated by another groups chat!” Alex laughs and puts her hand on my arm.
“I promise it’ll be fun. I know you’re a little sad but we’ll find you someone!”
“It’s not even that- I just want to be with you guys.” They all seem a bit sad about it. It’s not like I don’t like their boyfriends, I consider them my friends too! It’s just that I was really looking forward to some much needed girl time.
“You are with us!” Alexandra frowns.
Lily swings are hands, “You’re with us and five other idiots who have money!”
This makes me laugh as we make it to the restaurant. It’s beautiful, part of the hotel, and looking right over the water.
The guys are already sitting. Charles, Pierre, Alex, Carlos all smile at me, kissing their girls as we sit. There is one missing, though. It’s hard to ignore but I'm definitely not complaining.
Drinks are ordered and our thoughts about the hotel is passed around. I became friends with this group through Lily, we grew up together and when Alex suggested I should come to a grand prix, I was hooked.
The other girls took to me immediately and were so excited to have another friend that they actually like. I don’t travel as much as them, but I do see them often enough.
We haven’t gotten together in a group like this though in forever!
I sip on my cocktail and talk to Carlos as his eyes stray past me. I turn to look at what he’s distracted by and have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
You know those people who just really piss you off? The type that just irks you even though you’ve tried to hear your friends out?
That is how I feel about Lando Norris.
He strolls up to our table as if he isn’t late. He’s in blue jeans and a white button down that’s definitely not buttoned enough. His hair is messy and looks like he just woke up, “Hey.” Is all he says before plopping down next to Carlos and sipping his water.
Rebecca already sends me a look that screams, ‘Leave it.’ So I do, I order my food and talk to my friends while avoiding the man two seats down from me.
It’s not just that Lando bugs me, It’s that he’s repeatedly cocky and flat out annoying. He teases me any chance he gets and it never fails to ruin my day. He knows it too.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Pierre asks as he puts his arm around Kikas chair, everyone’s food is nearly gone and I'm more than ready to climb into my plushy hotel bed.
Alex holds Lily’s hand, “Beach, explore, eat? That’s also my plan for every day of our trip.”
Charles nods, “My buddy has a boat out here that he said we can borrow one day.”
I smile and lean my head on Kika’s shoulder, “I'll be anywhere you guys go, with a book and an apple.”
“You still into that?” His voice already pisses me off. I look at Lando who’s staring at me, “Reading.”
I blink. “Are you still into being illiterate?”
Charles covers his laugh with a cough as Alexandra shakes her head, “Hey! You two need to keep it civil this trip.”
Carlos eyes Lando pointedly as he groans, “Why? I didn’t even do anything! The witch said I was illiterate!”
I sit up straighter immediately, leaning over Carlos as my friends talk in a haze around me, “You really wanna see a witch, Norris, I’ll fucking show you!”
“The worst thing you could do to me is throw sand in my face!” I groan as he rolls his eyes and Kika pulls me back into my seat.
“This is what we’re talking about!” When she whispers is when I realize the people dining around us are staring.
“It’s one week!” Pierre shakes his head, “One week of peace!”
I don’t dare look at Lando, my arms crossed.
He gives in peace, “I won’t start anything if she won’t.”
“Perfect, I'll have a great trip of silence.” Fine by me. I can ignore him for a week, easy.
Lily and Rebecca exchange looks as Lando speaks again, “It’ll be nice not hearing your-” Carlos slaps his arm and he shuts up.
I sigh in my seat, this is going to be an interesting week.
⋆༺
I start off my first full day with breakfast. I’m up early and decided to make the most of it by enjoying my food with a beach view.
I grin when I see that there’s two pieces of bacon left, grabbing them swiftly and plopping it onto my plate just when someone goes to reach for it.
I look up to see Lando. He’s sweaty and in running clothes, looking at me annoyed per usual, “Seriously? Who takes the last two pieces?”
I raise a brow, “Me. You literally just saw me do it.”
He gives me a bored expression, “Didn’t you ever get taught manners?”
“I got taught how to get what I want.” I bite into the piece of bacon just to watch him flinch. “Weren’t you taught that it’s not nice to be insufferable?”
“Can’t you share? It’s one piece.” I take another bite, pretending to think.
“Hm… No!”
“We’re supposed to be civil. Friends even!” He steps closer, “I know you would give the piece to Lily.”
“You’re too greedy.” I finish the first piece of bacon and start to walk away. He scoffs and follows me.
“Me!? Greedy?” He scoffs, plate still in hand. I eye it, it’s mostly empty except for a nutella crepe, “You know what- never mind.”
I nod, “Great job being civil, Norris. I’m so proud of you and you for giving up.”
He does not find this funny, “I can’t stand you.”
“Then sit.” His eyes narrow at my words.
“Fuck it, Free will!” and with that, he grabs the piece of bacon off my plate and runs!
“Norris!” I yell after him but when he turns, he’s smiling with a mouth full of bacon. “Dickhead.” I mumble to myself and continue getting my food.
⋆༺
I’m warm, I'm tipsy, and I'm listening to live music. I don’t think life could get any better. I sit up on my beachside chair, lifting my sunglasses to see Lily, Alex, Charles, and Alexandra playing chicken in the water.
Kika stirs next to me, she was asleep on her stomach but slowly sits up when she hears our friends laughing.
I watch Lando and Pierre floating and Carlos swimming towards them. Rebecca went to get drinks so that just leaves Kika and I.
“How’s the whole ‘civil’ thing going?” She’s in an orange bikini that makes her look unfairly tan.
I shrug, “Bad? I just can’t imagine talking to him normally. We always fight.” I sip my drink, the glass coats my hand in condensation but it cools me down.
“Maybe you should just fuck.” I choke on my drink. She doesn’t even attempt to hide her laugh, “Sorry, Sorry!”
“Kika!” I slow my breathing, “Why would you say that!?”
“It makes sense! You’ve got a lot of pent up energy… I’m just saying!” I shake my head, pulling my sunglasses back on and laying down again. “I know you’re attracted to him.”
I pray that she thinks my cheeks are red from the sun, and not from her words. “I am not.”
“You can't lie to me!” She laughs, “It’s not a bad thing, Y/n. You both just need to shut up for two seconds and get eachother shirtless.” Lily walks up right as she says that.
She plops down onto the sand, “Whatever this is about- I agree!”
“She’s trying to get me to- Nope! I’m not even going to say it!” I can’t have that manifestation in my life.
“I think she should hook up with Lando.”
“Completely agree. Just make it quick.”
“If he’s with her, he’s gonna be quick.” Kika jokes and I actually laugh at that one.
“Okay enough! I’m not taking any advice from you two!” I stand, pulling my hair tie out of my hair and starting down the beach.
“Think about it!” Lily yells as I flip her off.
Now all I can think about is hooking up with him. I mean, I hate the dude, but I’m not blind.
Lando is fucking fit. But it’s hard for me to see past his assholeness. So the probability that i’m going to fuck him, is slim. Very slim. Like ZERO.
Just as I'm off in my Lando Norris shirtless world, a shirtless Lando Norris walks up to me. He’s exiting the ocean, pushing his wet curls back as he laughs with Carlos.
I look away as soon as I get a glimpse of his torso. The cool water feels great on my legs as I walk in the ocean. I sink down and dunk my head, opening my eyes underwater, I see the tiny fish and shells.
I reach down and grab a handful of sand, when I get air again, Carlos and Lando are next to me. I push the sand off my hand to reveal some shells and a tiny crab, “Aw!” I smile at it, showing it to the boys.
Carlos raises his brows, “Looks harmful.”
“Harmful?” I glance at him, “He’s a baby!” I hold it closer to him and he backs away like it’s going to jump on him.
I turn to Lando and do the same, he backs away as well, “Pussy.” I say it to his face and he clearly takes it as a challenge.
He holds his hand out and snatches the crab right from my hand, “Are you just a thief by nature?”
He gives me a look before bringing his hand closer to his face to examine the sea creature. I step closer to see it, “It’s adorable.”
“It’s a crab.”
“Thank you, Norris, for your insightful words of wisdom.” I go to take it back from him but he jumps and throws his hand down.
I let out a huge laugh when I realized it’s holding onto his thumb, “Shit! Ow!”
I keep laughing as Lando panics, swinging his hand around to try to get it off. Carlos is long gone by now, not amused by his friends' antics.
The crab finally unclips itself from Lando and he looks like he was just betrayed. I grin, “Maybe I am a witch!”
He looks me up and down, holding his hand and thinking. “If you call me a bitch that crab won’t be the worst thing that hurts you today.”
And then something weird happens.
He smiles.
He just smiles and walks away.
⋆༺
LANDO
Marmaris is stunning. The water is clear and besides me getting bitten, I'm having a great time. We end up going into town to get lunch and I'm faced with the issue of Y/n’s ass in my face as we walk up what feels like a million stairs.
I really feel like she’s doing this on purpose but I could be thinking that to just make myself feel better about checking her out.
She’s in tiny low waisted jean shorts. I can see her bikini bottoms peeking out from the sides. Her top is a crocheted cover up so her sliver of a bathing suit is still on display.
Carlos pushes my back when I slow down on the steps, I turn around to swear at him but he’s giving me an all knowing look so I close my mouth.
After what feels like hours of staring at Y/n’s backside, we make it to the lunch place. It’s hidden quite far up and we all get cramped into the room with a huge window and a view of lemon trees.
With our stupidly coupled up group, I'm forced to sit with Y/n. She’s across from me, sipping on her water and leaning on the table with her arms crossed.
When she notices I'm staring at her, she glares at me. I can tell she’s about to say something snappy, but eyes our friends and shuts her mouth.
As much as she pissed me off, I find it fun to annoy her. I like the way her cheeks heat and how her lips press together, but I would never admit that to her.
“Did you go for a run this morning?” Carlos asks me while shoveling food into his mouth.
“Yeah and the gym- it’s nice.”
“And quiet?” I nod, knowing what he means. Five Formula 1 drivers on vacation together is pretty hard to miss. But besides a stare or two, no one has said anything to us.
Lily claps her hands together, “Who wants to go golfing with me on wed-”
Y/n groans, putting her head in her hands, “No!” Kika looks horrified at the suggestion as well.
“Yes!” Carlos and I say at the same time. Lily has been a great addition to our golfing group and by far the best out of the three of us.
Rebecca laughs, “I’m with Y/n on this one. I’m feeling… spa?” This immediately perks Y/n up.
“That sounds perfect!” Alex smiles, “Girls day! Minus Lily because she’s actually good at a sport.”
Charles eyes us all, “I wanna go to the spa. I hate golfing.”
⋆༺
YOU
When Rebecca suggested we take a cooking class, I thought it was a great idea! I’m not the best cook so why not learn something? I had a bad feeling as soon as we entered and the room was decorated with hearts.
“Welcome! Welcome!” A man ushers us in along with two other groups. The room is large with one wall completely open and facing the beach. “Everybody get a table and we shall begin!”
“I knew I missed something on the website…” Alex cringes as we stare at the tables set for two, “Sorry? Lando, careful with Y/n and knives!”
A couples cooking class!? You’ve got to be kidding. I look at Lando the same time he turns to me, “Well, love… Let me handle the sharp things. I value my life.”
This is going to be the longest hour ever.
“My lovely people in love!” The man is short, with gray hair and the biggest smile I've seen in a while, “My name is Ali and today we begin making the dough for Kemal Pasha!” Apparently the kind we’re making is sweet balls of dough with a very delicious sounding syrup.
I’m standing next to Lando who’s struggling with his apron. They have huge heart pockets and his is bright green. As fun as it is to see him struggle, I want to start cooking soon.
“Give me that.” I swat his hands away and step behind him, taking the pieces of fabric and tying a knot.
“Thank you, Sweetness.” I suspect that this teasing won’t end soon, considering the man teaching the class asked everyone what their names were and put a name tag on each table of the couples ‘ship’ name.
I tie it tight and he flinches, “Hey my girl is trying to kill me!” I roll my eyes and loosen the bow, listening to the man and thanking the woman who’s walking around to make sure everything is correct.
I pour in all the ingredients and Lando starts stirring. I look around at all the couples, they’re doing everything together while looking all lovey dovey.
It makes me miss my ex. Which is weird because we barely acted like this alone. But still, seeing Alex and Lily laugh with flour already on their faces makes me sad.
“Angel!” Lando calls for me again as I put my hand on my hip. He has his hand out that’s covered in white powder, “C’mere!”
“No!” I back up but he’s already pulling me in and squeezing my face. I frown, my face squished between his hand as he laughs. I can feel the flour covering my face. I put on a slow smile when he drops his hand, “Aw, love bug!”
Nothing about my tone is loving and I can tell he’s not excited by the way his face drops. “Now darling…” He backs away as I pour some of the flour from the container into my hand, “I told you i’ll let you lick food off of me later, not here!”
I scoff at his audacity and throw the flour right into his face. When he opens his eyes, I slap my hands over my mouth. His whole face is white and when he breathes out, some comes out of his mouth.
I hold back a laugh as he stares at me, along with the rest of the room, “Oh baby… you’ve got a little.” I motion to his whole face, “Just a little something right there.”
“Er…” The man blinks at us, “True love comes in many forms!” He laughs uncomfortably as we get back to mixing our dough.
“That was not a fair move, Love.” Lando whispers to me as I knead the dough between my hands. His face is wiped off but the flour still resides a bit in his hair and cheeks.
“All's fair in love and war.” I say sweetly.
“Alright ladies, If your man isn’t helping you with his big strong muscles…” Ali eyes us, “Remind them who you are! Men, help your women!”
I turn back at Lando, looking up at the driver, “Do you need reminding?”
He just bites his lip and turns me back around, his hands on my waist. That, I did not expect. My hands go back to the dough in the bowl and his arms move into view, copying the other couples and massaging the treat with me.
I swallow and eye the veins in his arms that go all the way to his hands. His very big hands. The same hands that softly reach over mine.
His touch is surprisingly gentle as he matches my movements. I try to not think about how close he is to me, and focus on the dough but fuck that because I can feel him behind me.
I move back a bit unconsciously and his hand goes to waist to stop me, “Do you need reminding?” His voice is deep in my ear and I fight the urge to roll my eyes even though I know my cheeks are hot.
I thank god when Ali says we will be moving onto rolling the dough into little balls.
I swiftly move away from Lando and don’t dare look at Alex or Kika who I know is looking at us. I start rolling the dough in between my hands.
Lando glances at me, his balls sort of uneven and too small, “Your balls are ugly.” Lando chokes on air and whips his head around to look at me.
“Excuse me?” I roll my eyes at his suggestive tone and show him one of mine, “Ah so you’re a ball expert? Working from experience?”
He’s so childish it makes me want to throw one of these at him. Sadly, I'm not above acting suggestively, “Never worked with any so small.” I shrug as he stares at me. That shuts him up really quick as we place them on a round baking sheet.
We take a short break while they bake and I venture outside, looking over the balcony to the sea far below us.
My skin feels rejuvenated by the sun, I’m tanner and I swear the air is just different here. Alex appears next to me, he looks quite happy, “Having fun?”
I shrug and realize that I actually have been. “Uh… yeah.”
“You know, I think everyone else thinks you’re a real couple. It’s cute.” I gape at him. Is Alexander Albon betraying me right now?
“It is not cute. He’s bullying me.” He just snorts.
“Sure…”
I frown when Ali calls us back in. Lando and I are mostly quiet while stirring our syrup. As it boils, he nudges me. I look up to see him watching another couple.
They’re practically making out and feeling eachother up. I let out a laugh that his eyes widened at, “You’re so not inconspicuous.” He whispers, leaning down a bit.
“They are definitely not paying any attention to me…” They’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even notice when Ali turns their mini stove top off so their sauce doesn’t burn.
He looks down at me one last time, sending me a tiny smile. I think it’s the first time I'm genuinely attracted to him when his shirt is still on. Shit.
⋆༺
LANDO
Besides Y/n trying to kill me with the dessert we made, we were civil throughout the rest of the class. We get to take home a small box which leaves everyone in a good mood.
“Here, pretty, I don’t think I can eat that without feeling sick.” I don’t mean to call her that, but I just say what comes to my mind. I hand her the box and takes it without any change of expression.
I’m ready to leave but Ali claps his hands together one more time, “My lovebirds!” Y/n gives me a look that I laugh at, “One more gift for a very special couple of… well, couples!”
He pulls out three pieces of paper. Handing one to the couple that was making out he says, “Most affectionate!”
Then he turns to Pierre and Kila and hands them one, “Best dessert!” I realize these papers are some typos of superlatives.
I think he’s going to go to Charles and Alexandra, but he turns to Y/n and I. A big grin on his face, he hands me a paper. I read it before he says it and my eyes widen, “The most authentic love!” I don’t look at her, I can’t.
“I hope one day you all come back!” And with that, we’re ushered back and stripped of our aprons.
Y/n is already walking down the marble steps with Lily and Rebecca next to her. Carlos just shakes his head and slaps his hand on my shoulder, “Man… Congratulations!”
I eye him as Alex laughs, “I’m framing that!”
⋆༺
YOU
Six hours later, i’m in a tiny white dress, my hair curled and makeup done, and on my way with Rebecca and Alex to a club.
Everyone’s already left but Alex took extra long to slick back her hair. “So!” Rebecca grins as we walk past the beach, “Plan for tonight? Hook up with a local? Make out on the beach?”
I laugh at her enthusiasm, “I’ll see where the night and vodka takes me! I really just need a hot dance partner and a good drink.”
And that’s exactly what I get. I get my drink and well.. many hot dance partners! My friends and I scream the lyrics of the songs we know, holding hands and jumping around.
The club is part of the resort we’re staying at. It’s half on the beach and half in the beach bar that has a 24 hour drink service. I laugh at the guys who are awkwardly waiting for their girls to join them again.
“Okay, go, go!” They leave me at the bar and as soon as they’re gone, a man approaches me.
He’s very tall and very blonde, “Hi.” he’s got an accent but I can’t tell from where, “I couldn’t help but notice you dancing…” I listen to the same line that a hundred guys have fed me before. “Could I buy you a drink?”
Now this is what I like! Ten minutes later I'm dancing with him and a vodka lemonade. His hands are on my waist as I laugh.
He’s hot against me, his hair sweaty and salty. His name is Leon and he really likes my dress. I have a feeling he would like me without it too.
“Are you staying at the hotel?” He asks, screaming in my ear.
I nod, “Are you?”
“I’m staying in town with a friend!” I nod and sip my drink as he talks, “Do you know him?” I frown at his words, turning to see who he’s talking about.
I roll my eyes at Lando who’s standing with a pretty girl but staring at me. I turn back to Leon, “No!”
He looks like this annoys him, “Well i’m not surprised! You’re hot!” I nod as the music continues and keep dancing with him.
He turns me around so he’s staring at my ass instead of my face. But I just slip my fingers into my hair and keep dancing. I open my eyes to see Lando again. The girl is still talking but he’s still staring at me.
I run my middle finger around the rim of my glass, the sugar lifting onto my skin. His expression stays dark and focused on me as his hand goes to his jeans pocket. I lift my finger to lips, licking off the sugar without breaking eye contact.
He brings his drink to his lips and that’s when I realize I've had a bit too much to drink because he looks too damn hot.
He’s in a light blue shirt, his silver rings and LN4 necklace sat on his skin like it belongs there. His hair is damp with I don’t know with what… sweat, water, or the air, I don’t care. His jaw ticks at Leon’s hand moves from my waist to my stomach, my head dropping back on his shoulder, and spinning back around.
He kisses me, it’s messy and drunken but I don’t care. It’s only when he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” When I'm massively turned off.
I end up back with my friends, Lando nowhere in sight and a smile on my face as we sit at the bar and drink.
pt.2
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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago
Text
the bow pose
carlos sainz jr
request: vday prompts - 63 and carlos please <3 63. “wow, i didn’t realize you were that...flexible.”
tags: smut/pwp, yoga positions, flexibility, floor/living room sex, modified doggy style
eros (the valentine's day collection)
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carlos knew you were a woman of many talents. from your ability to measure the liquor in a cocktail perfectly on the first try, or how you could tell what hour it was from the position of the sun. it was small things that made carlos very impressed with you.
while you'd fluff it off, and tell him it was little things you picked up, carlos was always eager to give you praise. the small things, the large things, everything! but what made his jaw drop was one sunny winter afternoon when he came back from williams testing. and found you in a proper yoga pose.
but not just any pose, the bow pose.
carlos' eyes went wide at the sight of you. you were in a sports bra and atheltic leggings and the way your body bent made him almost drop his williams' branded water bottle.
you noticed him and then slowly dropped the pose. your muscles relaxed and that only enticed him more. especially when you let out a small moan in relaxation. you extended your arms out and propped your top half up as you looked at him with a smile, "hey, honey! how was testing?"
he nodded and put his belongings on the couch, "always perfect. they're great." he tried to brush off how you looked, the cobra position didn't help either. it would still give him easy access to your sweet body. he gave you the once over before he said, “wow, i didn’t realize you were that...flexible."
you chuckled, "i'm a bit rusty. i did it all the time as a teen to keep my body moving. all those joint problems i had in my teens." you exhaled as you stretched your back a little more, "got lazy with it post graduation, but now that you're getting back to proper shape for the season. i should to the same thing."
carlos approached, socked feet padded on the hardwood floor of the rental home you were sharing for the next little while. when he got close enough,he crouched down and spread his hand across your exposed back. he licked his lips, "you look good. hot in all these positions."
you giggled and dropped your top half onto the floor and bent your knees to raise them a little to stretch out your lower back. carlos' gaze grew hungrier. your eyes closed for a moment, but quickly re-opened when you felt him behind you and his hands on your hips.
he raised your hips a little and pressed your soft behind against his clothed cock. he made a face like he was gauging his ability to fuck you in this position, "next time." he said, "i'm really going to see how flexible you are." then pressed into you which caused your back to arch.
you let out a small moan and carlos eyed your behind for a moment before he squeezed the flesh with his hand. the action made your stomach clench and you felt an uptick of excitement in you.
"do you want me?"
"yes."
"good." he said lowly before he took your leggings off of you, he pulled them all the way off before he tossed them towards the couch. he then rubbed up against you. the rough denim of his jeans up against your ass made you moan. he added, "you sound beautiful, i bet you were loud when you got into those positions. i bet you thought about me." his tone was heated and it left you with a lingering want between your legs.
"carlos, fuck." you arched your back a little and felt the flutter of want in your core. thankfully the yoga mat was under your body or else you'd be a lot more achy come morning. you looked over your shoulder at him and saw how hungry he had become for you.
you never knew that carlos liked this. you helped him get your panties off and with your lower half exposed, he pressed your top half further into the mat.
he said, "if it starts to hurt, tell me." and you nodded. he then gripped the back of your neck a little tighter and said, "use your words."
you exhaled and swore, it was arousing. you then said, "yes, of course, carlos." and he let go of you to get himself out of his jeans. he teased your slit soon after, he rubbed the achy tip against your sweet entrance.
"feels amazing as always." he said, "there is something about you i cannot deny. from the moment i met you, i knew i had to have you. all over you. and to see you bend the way you do only turns me on more." his breathing grew heavier as he sank his cock into you. you easily split open for him, letting himself get snug between your thighs.
pussy that felt like heaven, he could taste the pleasure in his throat now with both hands on your hips. he loomed over you as he started to move his hips, slow yet forceful thrusts against you.
"perfect." he purred.
you could feel the climb of pleasure in your core as he felt like he shook your foundation. there was nothing quite like him. never have been anyone like him. and there never will be anyone like him. the feeling was euphoric in a certain way that had you moaning loudly.
sex with carlos was almost an exciting affair, the type that pulled you in each time you did it. you clung onto the edge of the yoga mat and let carlos arch your back a little more to give you both the pleasure you desired. it was hot, it was an achy heat that left your mouth spilling words of heated lust.
"please, carlos. fuck, i didn't know it would make you feel this good. i should've done yoga sooner." you chuckled as your grip on the mat tightened the more than carlos moved himself against you. your breaths were heavy pants and you loved the feeling of him on top of you.
you hated to admit it, even though you couldn't look at him in the position. you loved doggy style quite a bit, it just hit all the right places and made your head spin. carlos was good at that, making your soul thrum with sexual desire and wanted.
they didn't associate him with a hot pepper for nothing. often left your cheeks hotter than the chili itself. you dropped your head to the met and let its softness keep your cheek comfortable while carlos continued to thrust into you, marginally picking up speed.
"always sound so sweet for me."
you couldn't help it. you felt like you were adding to the arousal. but in reality it felt like your brain didn't know what to do with all the added pleasure other than to let carlos know how good he made you feel. his special talent, making his girlfriend squirm and moan.
but you knew if it all became too much, to let him know. there was no issue if he just flooded your head a little too much with the rush of pleasure. he kissed your back, the spots were the bra straps didn't cover. he could almost feel your heartbeat in your back. he held on a little tighter and you moaned louder.
"and you feel amazing too, my love." his voice hot in your ear, "how you move, how you bend. all positions for me to fuck you in." he chuckled lowly, "you'd let me stretch, bend and fuck you to my liking. isn't that right?"
you swore under your breath. pleasure felt heavy in your gut as he continued to fuck you, his pace much faster and left your head feeling in a stir as his cock bullied himself up inside of your beautiful pussy. who the hell allowed him to fuck you so good, to know exactly how to make you feel good.
the pleasure only grew in your as you pressed your cheek further against the mat and let him have full control of your slick pussy. the sounds of fucking filled the living room. you two were going at it, the pace quickened as you both felt closer to your climaxes. it was intense, the fire swarmed through your belly as it throbbed in your head.
"please carlos." you panted as you felt the tension in you grow. the sexual desire for him mounted and it wasn't much longer before you felt it all splash you. and you came around his cock.
"that's it, that's it." he cooed as he continued to fuck you. his pace left you breathless as the shudder of pleasure coursed through you. it felt amazing, you felt amazing. a piece of heaven all blissed out under him.
he kissed your back once more and felt the rapid thumping in his chest as he got close. he gave you a searing kiss at the back of your neck as he slammed his entire length into you and finished inside of you.
"fuck."
"i love you." he said hotly as he stopped his movements and let himself hold you by the waist for a few more moments. he pressed more kissed against your back and whispered sweet praises of his love to you. it sounded beautiful until he managed to pull his head away and loudly exhale.
it took a lot out of him, especially after the day of racing. he pulled away and rested himself on his heels while your hips dropped to the mat. you got onto your back and looked around to find your bottoms. but you had a feeling they wouldn't be found until morning.
carlos said as he pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and chuckled, "next time, i'm really going to see how flexible you are." he admired you before you pulled him in by the shirt. your lips crashed into one another and he groaned into the kiss
when you pulled away, you asked him, "why don't we find out right now?" <3
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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago
Note
Hey love I absolutely love your fics 🥰 I was wondering if you could write a dark toxic romance for Lando or Charles or even Logan where she’s the girl next door??? I love you keep it up ❤️
Crazy For You || LN4
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 4k Part one || part two || part three || part four
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It had been two months since you moved into your apartment in Monaco and you still hadn’t managed to introduce yourself to your neighbour. He kept strange hours and seemed to be away more than he was there. From what you had glimpsed, you had been delighted to see he was probably around your age and quite handsome in an innocent way. Mr Riley on the other hand was a stoic old man who only spoke to you when your cat climbed over the balcony and into his space.
Known for its year-round beauty and calm climate, Monaco had welcomed you with a comfortable breeze and enough sun to warrant leaving the house without a jacket, even at dusk on a winter's night. If you had checked the weather reports you would have seen that a storm was quickly blowing in from the coast - arriving by the time you had finished having a few cocktails with your new friends. 
Christmas lights twinkled around the shop fronts as you exited the bar and nutcrackers stood proud in doorways. You always loved Christmas and seeing the smiles it put on children’s faces but there were no children out this late. 
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Luke asked as he twirled his keys around his finger. “It’s about to start raining.”
“She’s good,” someone answered for you and you looked over to see your elusive neighbour at your side, his hand coming to rest in the small of your back. “I can take her home.”
“You didn’t tell us Lando was picking you up.”
Your mouth was dry and you didn’t know what to say as the liquor, or his presence, left you confused. Lando, you stored that piece of information away and tried to figure out why it sounded so familiar. 
“I was just out doing some Christmas shopping and about to head home,” he said with a smile. “Ready?”
“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled as you let him guide you away from your friends.
“Are you sure?” Luke asked with a frown. “You don’t look comfortable. Do you even know him?”
“Kind of, I’m just surprised,” you assured him. “Lando is my neighbour.”
“Okay, well, text me when you get home.”
You gave Luke a nod and waved to the others before going your separate ways.
“Are you cold?” Lando asked, already slipping his arms out of the jacket he wore over a dark hoodie. 
The alcohol had made you numb to the temperature but you let him drape it over your shoulders anyway, wrapping you in the decadent scent that came along with it. 
“Thanks.”
“Any time, it’s what neighbours do.”
“I don’t think Mr Riley would,” you teased.
“The grumpy old guy in 4C? We just call him Carl, like the movie Up.”
You smiled awkwardly and toyed with the zip on the jacked. “I’ve never seen it.”
“What?” He pulled you to a stop and grabbed your shoulders with a serious look on his face. “This just won’t do. I cannot be seen with someone who hasn’t watched Up!”
“Oh,” you mumbled as you started to take off his jacket and hand it back. 
“What are you doing, you muppet?” He grabbed the jacket and put it back on your shoulders before opening the door to a very expensive looking car. 
“I thought you meant…”
“It’s fine, I have tinted windows,” he teased. “As soon as we get home though, we’re watching the movie.”
Lando followed you inside without an invitation but you could hardly turn him away with his boyish smile and mop of curly hair that sprung out of his hoodie when he pushed it back. “This makes sense,” he chuckled as he stuck his head in the bedroom, pointing to the wall that your bed was pushed against. “Our apartments are mirrored. I thought I woke up to a voice a few times. Do you watch Friends?”
Your head tilted at the odd question. “Why do you ask?”
“You sing ‘smelly cat’ a lot.”
Mortification hit you and you felt your face burn as you turned to the culprit walking through your house with a loud purr. “That’s Eddie. Do you have any pets?”
“No, I’m always travelling for work and I’m not very good at looking after myself let alone another living thing. Do you actually know how to use those things?”
You looked at the kitchen where he was pointing to the appliances. You had planned to make some Christmas cookies over the weekend and had the stand mixer ready on the benchtop. You thought he was joking but he was genuinely intrigued by the inquisitive look of wonder on his face. “Cooking relaxes me,” you said with a shrug. “You probably have plans already but if you want to come over and-”
“Absolutely, say no more, I’m in.” He crossed the living room and dropped into the middle cushion of the three seater sofa and patted the space beside him with one hand, the other reaching for the remote. “You do have Disney+, right?”
 “You really do like to make yourself comfortable, don’t you,” you joked as you took a seat beside him. 
“I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he said with a small frown, placing the remote down. “Should I go?”
“No, no, I appreciate the company,” you said as you caught his arm to stop him from going. “Being alone in a new country is a little isolating, it’s nice having someone here.”
He settled back into the seat and sent you a grin as he searched for the movie. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, you can just knock three times.”
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The weeks before Christmas were a madhouse. Work kept you busy as well as the many requests to go home for the holidays, but it just wasn’t going to be feasible to take leave so soon after starting. You knew your parents were going to be disappointed but you promised them you weren’t going to be alone for Christmas.
You had eventually found out why Lando’s name was so familiar when Luke explained who he was and why he was away so often. But since the race season was over he had plenty of time to spend at home, yours and his.
Just like every other evening, you knocked three times on the living room wall knowing Lando would be able to hear it despite the special Christmas Eve stream he was on. It was the last one of the year and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas before the live feed of him playing Counter Strike came to an end. 
“Ouch, Eddie, fuck,” Lando swore a few minutes later as he knocked at your door. “Stop it.”
You opened the door to the frequent occurrence and took the hissing Eddie from his outstretched arms before he could get clawed again. Your ginger cat seemed to hate Lando for some reason, or maybe it was because he was always bringing the escapee back home to you.
“I think you should just move in with me,” Lando joked as he followed the mouthwatering scent into your kitchen. He came to your house for dinner most nights after finding Eddie on his balcony and usually stayed for a movie. That routine had changed slightly when the movie he chose one night was Friends With Benefits. There had been a moment after a sex scene when you both looked across at each other and the idea had passed between your eyes. 
He cleared his throat and you realised you had been staring at him for too long. “Eddie likes my place better.”
It clicked, he wasn’t actually asking you to move in with him. But for a moment you had considered it.
“Right, Eddie,” you laughed at your idiocracy. “I really don’t know how he keeps getting out. I must be going crazy because I’m sure I locked the window this morning.”
You both looked at the window that opened onto the balcony, the skies dark with another storm. “Maybe your cat is a genius and learned how to open it?”
You rolled your eyes but managed a laugh at his attempt to make you feel better while you readied two plates and took them to the table where he sat. “Maybe I should change his name to Houdini.”
“Better than Ed the Ginger.” Lando grinned as he pulled you onto his lap and scooped up a dollop of creamy mash potato with his forefinger, holding it up to your mouth. You sealed your lips around his finger and swirled your tongue around the tip, watching the blue of his eyes be swallowed by his pupils. “Naughty girl, you’ll be getting coal this year.”
Your head fell back with a laugh.“Who are you? Santa Claus?”
“Well, you are sitting on my lap, aren’t you?” He winked and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Wanna see my North Pole?”
“Oh my god, eat your dinner,” you giggled. “We still have to watch A Christmas Carol and Nightmare Before Christmas!”
You had both written a list of all the Christmas movies you wanted to watch and they were the last two left. It was just in time as midnight was going to come all too soon and you wanted to be tucked up warm in bed when the storm hit.
A loud crash had you jolting awake and you blindly reached across the bed in search of Lando to find it empty. Panic gripped you as you wondered if you were being broken into and a scream almost erupted when your light flipped on and Lando rushed in soaking wet. 
“Holy shit, you’ll never believe what just happened!”
You stumbled into the living room where Lando threw an arm out to save you from stepping on the glass that covered the floor. The doors that opened out onto your balcony had been completely shattered during the storm and you shivered as the cold wind and rain blew straight into your home. A huge puddle was quickly spreading across the carpet and it was making its way to the Christmas tree in the far corner while you were still in shock. 
“The presents!” 
Lando twisted away from the pot plant that had been on your balcony wall, now it lay on the floor with the dirt turning to mud. Seeing the urge you had to cut across the glass, he shook his head and pointed to the kitchen where you would remain safe. “I’ll get them.”
Lando carefully navigated his way to the tree, turning off the power to the glittering lights, and bundled the gifts up before hopping his way back with a wince. The wrapping paper on some of the presents were splattered with rain drops but most seemed in perfect condition when he placed them on the kitchen bench.
“You’re bleeding,” you gasped as he balanced on one foot and you wrapped an arm around his waist to help him. “There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Can you make it there?”
He nodded and limped with your help away from the mess. “I think you should come and stay at my place until the doors can be fixed.”
“Are you sure?” you asked as you carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out the small sliver of glass in his foot. “I can just get a hotel.”
“Ouch,” he groaned as it came free and blood welled at the site. “Not on Christmas Day, everywhere will be fully booked. I really don’t mind. It would save you from having to pack a bag.”
“If you’re sure…”
He smiled at the silly Spider-Man bandaid you placed over the wound before running the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I am.”
You shivered at his cold touch and remembered how wet he was when you woke up. “What were you doing up anyway?”
He bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. “I was putting a present under the tree when a flower pot blew through the door.”
“Oh, wow, that wind must be insane. I hope all the boats are safe out there,” you mused, knowing some people lived on the mariner. “Wait, you got me another present? Lando, there’s already too many.”
“I wanted to spoil you,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “You have single handedly kept me fed for weeks. You may have put a few restaurants out of business too.”
“You weren’t that bad were you?”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled. After testing his foot he took your hand and led you back to the presents to find a thin box that hadn’t been under the tree when you went to bed. “It’s after midnight, you know, you could open it.”
You took the box, surprised by the weight it had, and untied the pretty bow on top. The delicate silver writing drew a gasp and you looked at Lando with wide eyes. “Tiffany? I can’t open this, it’s too much.”
“Go on,” he urged as he placed your hand on top of the lid and gave it a squeeze. “Please, for me.”
Your fingers slipped twice as you tried to open the hinge and Lando’s hand enveloped yours, lifting it open to reveal the beautiful necklace within. The teardrop gemstone was the same shade as his eyes and it hung from a white gold chain that was polished to shine impossibly bright, even in the dim light. 
“Lando, it’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe as he lifted it up and stepped behind you to drape it around your neck. The weight of the stone settled in the centre of your chest and you turned to face him with a sincere, “Thank you.”
“So..?” He bit his lip as he showed you the empty box, a question written in the silk lining. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
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It wasn’t until the week after New Years that a glazier would be able to fix your doors. The holidays had left a backlog of people needing repairs but supply chains had been delayed too. Once the doors were finally fixed you realised the carpet was beyond repair and that took another week to have done.
It was strange to go back home after nearly three weeks of living in Lando’s apartment. It was too quiet.
“Babe, have you seen my hairbrush?” You had looked through the bathroom drawers he had cleared out for you to use but there was nothing left. You went back to your apartment and did another search but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t the first thing you had lost going back and forth and you were beginning to worry.
“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere, love,” Lando said as he paused his game and turned to his friend in the simulator behind him. “Max probably used it.”
“Did not,” his friend replied with an indignant splutter. “Didn’t I see you singing into a hairbrush?”
“You’ve been experimenting with drugs again,” Lando snorted. With a resigned sigh, you decided your hair was decent enough to get away with at work and Lando tipped his head back so you could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll order dinner tonight. Chinese?”
“Sounds good,” you said as you gave Max a wave on the way to the door. “Try not to let him sit there all day, you know how his back gets.”
“Yes, yes, Lando has an old man’s back. I’ll make sure he moves his ass at some point,” Max joked. “Have fun at work.”
You screwed up your face at the sarcasm and their laughs followed you out of the apartment. You weren’t sure they had actually moved all day as they were still in the same spots when you got home. You had crossed paths with the delivery man in the lobby and your arms were laden with the takeaway Lando had ordered.
“How many spring rolls did you order?” you murmured as you kept unpacking more and more of the small styrofoam boxes with the treat.
“He’s going for a record,” Max said with a roll of his eyes. Ten minutes later Lando groaned, holding his stomach tightly. “I told you to stop.”
You had quickly showered and changed into some comfortable clothes and found most of the boxes empty when you joined them at the table. “How many has he had?”
“18, and he’s got no chance,” Max bet, reaching over to steal a spring roll for himself and swiping it through the sweet chilli sauce. “You’ll thank me later. Ah, fuck.” Max looked down at the red blotch on his white Quadrant shirt before sauntering off down the hall. “Mate, do you have any more stain remover? This one’s empty.”
“Yeah, under the sink there should be another bottle,” Lando yelled back, dropping his fork onto his plate in defeat. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Why the hell do you have cat food?” Max appeared in the living room with the same brand of pet food you bought for your cat. 
“That’s not mine, obviously.”
You looked at Lando, who was rubbing his full stomach and as reclined back as much as the chair would allow. “It’s not mine.”
“You brought it over during the storm, remember?”
“No I didn’t.” You hadn’t wanted to disrupt Eddie’s routine and fed him at home each morning before work.
“Yes, you did.” He laughed as he tapped your temple gently. “You have a terrible memory, love. You can’t even remember where you left your hairbrush.”
You didn’t have an argument for that, since you still hadn’t found it. You were sure you hadn’t brought any cat food over, but maybe he was right. You did seem to be a little confused lately.
“I think I need an early night,” you admitted as you cleaned up the dishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying?” Lando asked with a pout as he joined you at the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppered your neck with soft kisses. “Who am I going to cuddle with?”
“I’m sure Max wouldn’t mind a snuggle,” you teased him as you turned in his arms. “I have an early start tomorrow but I can stay tomorrow night.”
He groaned at the thought of sleeping alone and held you tighter so he could have you in his arms a little longer. “Fine,” he huffed, relinquishing his hold on you and filling the kettle. “I’ll make you a chamomile tea so you sleep better.”
You smiled at his sweetness and savoured a few more minutes of kisses before the water boiled and he scooped out a few spoons of some boutique tea leaf mix he swore was the best sleep tea money could buy. Given how rich he was, you believed him.
Placing the hot mug in your hand, he bit his swollen lip and nodded to the front door. “Go before I tie you to my bed and never let you leave.”
“You wouldn’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he winked. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, love, sweet dreams.”
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Something disturbed your sleep and you rubbed your eyes as you woke up well before your alarm. You reached for the lamp beside your bed and accidently knocked into the cup of tea you hadn’t finished before falling asleep, the cold liquid sloshing over the side before you caught it and froze. 
Your bedroom door creaked open but it was too dark to see who it was. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to think of what to do before the shadow reached the edge of your bed. Your throat was so clogged with fear you couldn’t even scream, your hands trembled and closed them into fists before banging on the wall behind you, begging Lando would wake up at the sound.
Bang, bang, bang.
The figure lunged onto the bed, pinning you down with their weight and slamming your fists into the mattress. “Shh, love, it’s me.”
You relaxed as Lando’s voice soothed you, but the fear soon crept back up your spine with an icy shiver. “How did you get in here?”
“You forgot to lock your door,” he whispered as your wrists began to ache from the hold he had. “I was coming to check in on you.”
“No, I didn’t,” you said as you tried to shake him off. “I know I locked it. I know…I…I’m not crazy. Get off me, get off me right now.”
“You were meant to be asleep, love,” he groaned as his hands tightened to the point a pained cry escaped your gritted teeth. 
“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered as he kissed your neck, but you couldn’t feel anything but repulsion. 
“You should have just moved in with me, we are meant to be together.”
“You’re crazy,” you spat as you tried to buck your hips and throw him off but he was too strong. “Help! Somebody, help!”
His hand clamped over your mouth and you bit him as hard as you could before kicking and climbing away. 
“I’m not the crazy one, that’s you, love,” he laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re sick, but I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
“You are fucking insane!”
“No, no, sweetheart, I’m trying to help you, remember?” 
You froze in the doorway as you saw a cutout of your key on the kitchen bench, along with your hairbrush, phone, a negligee and dressing gown. All things you had been convinced you had lost in the last few weeks.
“Why are you doing this?” you repeated as you backed away from your boyfriend. He was someone you had trusted, someone you thought had fit perfectly into your new life - but he had been messing with you this whole time. Max and the cat food came to mind. “Eddie…he used to go to Mr Riley’s house.”
“Couldn’t have that,” Lando tutted with a shake of his head as he took a step closer, “not when he was going to help me get close to you.”
“Don’t! Don’t come any closer to me!”
“Baby, don’t be like that, let’s just go back to bed. You’re under a lot of stress, let me make you a chamomile tea.”
You swiped your phone up as you bolted but he was quicker and blocked the front door, holding his hand out. “Give that to me, you don’t want to do that.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” you hissed as you started to dial the emergency number.
“It’s you they will take away,” he said with a blase shrug that made you pause. “Everyone knows how unstable you have become.”
“Me?” you shrieked.
“You’re barely holding it together now. They aren’t going to believe anything you say.” He opened his arms as if to say, I’m famous and you are no one. Unfortunately, he was right. “Come on, love, let’s go back to bed.”
He took the phone from your limp hand and locked it before slipping it into his pocket. You were so confused that you had no idea what to do when he guided you back to the bed, turning the sheets down before tucking you in gently. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead and handed you the cold mug. “Drink up, baby, this is all just a bad dream.”
Click here for the next morning.
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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago
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Writing Notes: Cocktails
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"Cocktail," like many words, has evolved over time, broadening its meaning.
While it once indicated a narrow range of drinks—perhaps originally a single drink—it is now customarily used to cover nearly the full range of mixed drinks available in the bars of the world.
Purists may insist that a true cocktail include at least 3 ingredients, two of which are distilled liquor and bitters. Others may argue that any drink mixed on the spot from two or more ingredients, at least one of which is alcoholic, is a cocktail.
The first known references to drinks called cocktails come from the late 18th and early 19th centuries. At that time, alcoholic beverages were largely served in inns and public houses, and weary travelers and thirsty locals would order concoctions.
LONG DRINKS
Also known as tall drinks, are simply drinks in tall glasses with larger amounts of mixer than short drinks.
Some, like highballs, are simple and straightforward; others are complex concoctions.
What they have in common is a relaxed quality, in that they present a relatively low concentration of alcohol and, often, an easy-drinking accessibility.
SHORT DRINKS
A drink served in a tumbler or old-fashioned glass.
Since they contain a higher concentration of alcohol than long drinks, they tend to be built more for slow, deliberate sipping—but there are no hard and fast rules here.
UP DRINKS
The classic image of a cocktail: shaken or stirred with ice and served, almost always strained, in a cocktail glass.
The most elegant of the cocktails, and not only because of their presentation.
Subtle or intense, austere or rich, they tend to have distinct personalities.
SHOTS & SHOOTERS
The most recreational of cocktails.
Despite their popular image, most of them are actually rather low in alcohol; the danger of shots lies in the temptation to drink too many, too quickly. Given how delicious many of them are, that can be all too easy to do.
HOT & FROZEN DRINKS
Hot cocktails have a long history, having been used for centuries to warm chilled travelers and bar customers.
Frozen cocktails are a more recent development, but they offer a bracing kind of refreshment that is perfect for steamy summer evenings.
Some Cocktails
Classic Cocktails
Some drinks have become timeless, iconic libations of cocktail culture:
THE MARTINI Despite a myriad of variations since its first appearance in the nineteenth century, the classic Martini remains the quintessential elegant cocktail: a cool, somewhat austere drink, not showy, but certainly powerful.
THE MANHATTAN The richness and power of whiskey gives the Manhattan slightly rougher edges than the Martini. It gained prominence in the 1930s as one of the five Borough cocktails of New York.
THE OLD FASHIONED Long before Don Draper of Mad Men revived interest in this classic, adding bitters and sugar to whiskey was a mainstay of cocktail culture and one of the most basic drink preparations.
THE DAIQUIRI The classic rum cocktail, the Daiquiri was a favorite of Ernest Hemingway and John F. Kennedy, and has spawned a host of variations.
Seasonal Drinks
Though most cocktails inhabit the perpetual season known as cocktail hour, many capture—or help create—the distinct mood of each quarter of the year.
SPRING & SUMMER Light, refreshing cocktails dominate the spring. Consider such classics as slings, smashes, lemonade drinks, and colorful coolers. Go-to cocktail: a French 75 Summer is, of course, the season for clear and tropical cocktails. Fresh fruit fills the market stands, the sun pours down through long days, and a cold, sweet-and-tart drink is what you crave. While you could always go for a Gin and Tonic, for a bit more personality try one of the great Caribbean drinks—a classic Daiquiri will keep you cool.
FALL & WINTER As Keats put it, autumn is the “season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” and that vibe is what you’ll want in a cocktail. Deeper, richer drinks come to the fore. Any drink involving apple juice or apple brandy chimes with sentimental visions of autumn. Go-to cocktail: a Sidecar. When winter comes, linger over an Irish Coffee or Hot Toddy; or brace yourself against the cold with a potent whiskey drink—stay toasty warm with an Old Fashioned.
Champagne Cocktails
Occupy a distinct niche in cocktail culture.
At once colorful and elegant, festive and intimate, they lend themselves not only to romantic settings but also to expensive parties.
Source: The Ultimate Cocktail Encyclopedia by Walter Burns More Writing References: Wine-tasting ⚜ Drunkenness ⚜ Drinking
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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He Sees You
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Summary: You go away for the holidays but you can't escape all the worries you tried to leave at home..
Character: Walter Marshall
Day Seventeen of the December Daze Challenge.
Prompt - let's go somewhere warm for the winter.
Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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Let's go somewhere warm for the winter 
The sun beams amber over the dulcet ripples. Your room looks down onto the hotel pool in the setting evening, a calming hue soothing your nerves. You haven't felt this close to peaceful in month. No... has it already been a year? 
"So, honey, what do you think about trying the restaurant? I was just looking over the menu. I've never tried mussels," your mother's voice cuts through the din. Another comfort you've longed for. 
"Sure, whatever you want," you face her and sigh.  
It's more than getting away from work and your tiny apartment and the city. It's that foreign feeling. Something you almost forgot. You feel safe. 
"You alright?" She asks with concern. 
"I'm great, mom," you assure her. "Thanks for bringing me." 
"Didn't know what else to do with all that money. You wouldn't believe it, Sheila was so jealous that I won the jackpot at bingo. I would've asked her if she hadn't been such a crabby ass about it." 
"Oh, I'm sorry." 
"Ah, she always was a pain," she shrugs. "Besides, I miss my baby girl. You're always so busy with work." 
"I know, mom, I'm sorry." 
You look down guiltily. You can't tell her that it's more an excuse these days than the truth. You are busy but not with your job. You're hiding. You don't have to here. It's nice and distant and warm. You can't remember a winter without snow. It's so strange to be hot in December. 
"I'll just change into something... not this," you look down at the sweats you wore on the plane. 
"Wonderful," you mom gives a small clap but concern lingers in the lines of her forehead, "we can wait until tomorrow if you're jetlagged." 
"I'm not. Promise. I want to," you assure her. 
You grab your bag and flip the lid open. You take out some capris and a flora shirt. You go into the bathroom as she searches her purse. You want to make the best of it. It's not often you have this luxury; not only the time off, but the all-inclusive resort. It's amazing.  
And it might be the only escape you get for a while. Or ever. 
You come out as your mom spritzes herself with body spray. She smiles and grabs her wallet, "dinner's on me." 
"Mom," you chide. 
"No, you don't even try. This is my present to you, honey. I want you to enjoy," she goes to the door and looks back at you. "What happened to my little girl and her smiles?" 
Her question pierces your heart. You know but it would break her heart to say it. You force a smile. 
"I'm just grown up and tired," you chuckle dryly. "Come on. I saw something about pineapple sangria." 
"That's my girl," she trills and holds the door for you. 
The restaurant is just as you expect. Tropical in the tourist sort of way. Fake palm trees, colourful glasses, twisty straws with fruit slid onto them. You order a sangria as your mother puts her glasses on and squints at the menu. 
The server brings your drinks and gives you time to peruse the selection. You settle on the carribean prawn cocktail as your mother stirs her spicy margarita. She sits back and looks around. It's good to see her happy too. 
"This is so nice," she preens. "You should come to bingo with me when we get back. If we both win, we could stay twice as long next time." 
She cackles and you laugh too. Genuinely, this time. That weight on your shoulder lessens bit by bit. You slurp down some sangria and let the alcohol sink in. You need this. You need to just forget. To let go. 
You're far from home. No one even knows you're here. Even work thinks you're just puttering around at your apartment, and your friends, the few who still talk to you, are too absorbed in their own holidays. 
You put in your orders and get another round. Your refills come with the food as your mother tells you about Maureen who steals her fliers. You laugh as you remember the rivalry she used to have with the other soccer moms. You were never very good at the sport though. 
"How's your food?" She asks as you pick away at the prawns. 
"Very good. I could eat a whole other platter but I won't." 
"It's a holiday, go on," she chirps. 
"No, no, really. My mind says yes but my stomach would say no way," you shake your head. 
"Hm, we'll need to get a dessert menu then," she grins and looks around for the server. 
He comes and clears your plates. Your mother requests the dessert list and he flits off to his task. He returns with more than the menu. He has another round of drinks in hand. 
"Oh, we didn't--" your mother begins. 
"The gentleman at the bar sent them over." The server puts down the drinks. 
You stiffen as you stare at the pineapple ring hooked over the brim. Your mother cranes to see whoever it is and you shrink down. You're paranoid. Not here. He couldn't be. 
"And the desserts," the server taps the menu before he hands it over. "I recommend the key lime cheesecake or the coconut cream trifle." 
"Oh, thank you." Your mother fawns, "honey, cheers." 
Your mother raises her glass in a gesture towards the bar. You hold your breath and lift your glass, mirroring her. You glance at the bar and nearly drop the drink. You quickly lower your hand and turn to her. She doesn't see your panic. 
"Um, you know what," you set the glass down gingerly as the waiter retreats. "I'm going to find the bathroom." 
You get up and keep your eyes ahead of you. You resist the urge to peek at the bar again. You don’t need another look. You know it’s him, you just can’t fathom how he found you. 
You enter the bathroom and quicky hide in a stall. You sit without intent. You need to think. What do you do? What can you do? You didn’t tell a soul. You wouldn’t even text your mom the details, just in case. Your stomach clenches until you think you might vomit. 
Then another thought brings you to your feet. Your mom. Shit. 
You get up and hurry back out. As you come into the dining room, your eyes move instinctively to the bar. He’s not there. With dread, you look to the table. Your mom’s alone. Thank god. Yet, you know better than to believe he’s gone. 
You join her and reach for the sangria without a thought. You nearly choke on the mouthful as you recall where it came from. You force it down and place the drink on the table. 
“That stranger sure was kind, treating us to a round,” she smiles. “Been a long time since a handsome man bought me a drink.” 
You try to smile but you’re so tense, you can hardly breathe. “So, uh,” you swallow to restrain the tremble in your voice. “What do you want for dessert? The banana pudding sounds good.” 
You look down at the menu, hoping she can’t see the truth. She’s always been smart. She always catches you out. Maybe the drinks are enough to save you. At least, enough to protect her. Ignorance is bliss and you don’t want to ruin the first vacation she’s had in years. 
🌴
Your mother snores in the other bed. You lay awake. Your phone rests on your stomach. You wait for the inevitable buzz. 
You feel weak, so fraught that your bones are heavy. Weary. That’s the word. You’re so tired of running, especially when it only feels like you’re standing still. 
Brrrrr. 
The vibration makes you jolt. You grab at the phone clumsily and raise it to read the message. It’s him. It’s not a surprise. No one hs your number but the woman in the room with you. Or so you thought. 
‘You looked really nice tonight.’ 
You stare. You can’t answer that. You doubt he expects one. No, he’s taunting you. 
‘How’s your mom?’ 
You sit up and hiss. No. No. That’s off-limits. 
‘Leave her alone,’ your thumbs skitter over the keys quickly. 
Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then pop up again. 
‘I don’t like talking like this.’ 
You grit your teeth. Fuck off. You want so badly to type it in. Your mother snorts and rolls over. The next message shakes your hands. 
‘Room 3054.’ 
‘Where?’ You text back as seeing your suite number makes you ill. 
‘Bar. Got a cocktail waiting for you.’ 
Checkmate. You’re no good at his game and you’re terrified of him flipping the board. You slide out of bed quietly and wade through the dark. You pull a hoodie on over your camisole, careless of the flowy fabric of your shorts. You step into your sneakers, bending the backs, and shove the room key into your sweater pocket. 
He’s waiting, just like he said. With a beer for himself and another bright yellow drink for you. You near as he tugs at one of his dark curls, combing his fingers through the knot at the base of his skull. He grunts as he looses it and brings his hand back to the bottle. 
You climb up next to him. You ignore the drink. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask. 
“I should ask you the same.” 
“It’s none--” you begin and think better of it. “I’m spending time with my mother. Shouldn’t you be with your family?” 
He grits his teeth and swallows. Walter is a big man. Burly is an understatement. Before, when he was just customer, you compared him to a teddy bear. Now he’s grizzly stalking you through the trees. 
“We were supposed to be together. It’s the holiday. You couldn’t even let me know?” He turns to stare you down with his icy blue eyes. 
Your cheek ticks and your eyes flick to the wall. He scares you. More than anything. 
“I’ve been asking to meet your mom, haven’t I?” 
“Please, why... why do you have to do this?” 
“Why do you have to do this?” He shoots back. “I’m the only reason you’re safe.” 
You shudder and rub your arm. No, he’s the reason you’re scared. He's the reason you can’t sleep. You never asked for any of this. 
You gnaw on your cheeks and shake your head. Your mouth is dry and your chest is empty. The futility keeps you quiet. 
“Your mom seems nice--” 
“No,” you look at him again. “No. She’s my mom. She’s all I have so you don’t-- don’t.” You beg. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it, but you don’t get near her. You--” 
“You act like I want to hurt her. Why would I do that? She gave me you?” He arches a brow. 
You inhale and lean your elbow on the bar, “Walter.” 
His lashes flick up and his tongue pokes out to trace his lips, “have your drink. We’ll have enough time to go back to my room before she’s up.” 
You stare at him. He turns to the bar and lifts the beer bottle. He drinks casually as you watch. You lower your head as your hands shake over your lap. You reach to turn yourself on the tall stool.  
The mirror behind the bar reflects your fear. His eyes meet yours and you wince. You knew this was too good to be true. You knew that even here wasn’t far enough. 
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pricegouge · 3 months ago
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missionary
nik x f!reader
cw: dubcon/noncon implied, but nothing happens here. religious talk from someone who doesn't know dick about it but that's okay cause the characters here don't either. abrupt ending. MDNI
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sunlight filters through your curtains as you wake, a diffused sort of warmth that catches on dust motes and cat hair, paints them cream colored and soft. you sigh and burrow deeper for a few more minutes, ignore your looming sunday chores in favor of sleeping in a bit longer. you can't remember the last time the sun had beat you out the gate, the winter seeming to stretch past into your memory as far back as your childhood.
perhaps that's a little dramatic, but it's been a minute, so you climb out of bed only long enough to draw the curtains and let the thin morning light stream through properly before flopping back onto the mattress, letting your dry, winter skin absorb as much needed vitamin d as you can get before your stomach starts complaining about needed sustenance - though with how late you'd managed to sleep in, you can't even blame it.
your head's a bit fuzzy as you make your way to the kitchen. with the latest cold snap on its way out, the sudden temperature change had left your sinuses reeling and you'd had to resort to a little cocktail of otc drugs just to have a chance at sleep the night before. small price to pay, considering the light drip of snow melt you can see falling from your vantage point at the window, eyes unfocused as you zone out, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating.
it takes a few sips of the strong brew to fully realize what that means, opening your door in near disbelief to find the storm door isn't glazed over in ice, no steam spilling through the frame as your house attempts to heat the whole universe. it's still chilly, for sure, but it's not enough to deter you, leaving the door open for a spot of fresh air as you get to work fixing yourself breakfast, singing to yourself cheerily as you move about, your mood brighter than it's been in months at the barest sliver of sunshine. it's nice enough out you don't even bother to put a pair of pants on, the slight sting of early spring air so unseasonable and unexpected that you can't but relish it.
cooking is a messy affair. carefree. you go all out, pancake batter dusting the counter and your legs alike, broad strokes painted with messy fingers as you wait for your bacon to fry. you're distracted as you cut up an orange, knife slipping dangerously close past your fingertips because you can't help wriggling to the catchy song you've got stuck in your head.
once, twice -
"shit," you hiss, turning to run the cut under some cold water before you even fully inspect it.
you're prodding at the seams of your skin when you hear him, voice a low lilt sounding from your left which chills you more than the mid-winter air stirring around your bare thighs, more than the frigid font you've got your hand stuck under. your eyes find him immediately, watching you from the other side of the screen door with a hungry look about him, like he can't discern between you and the veritable buffet being plated behind you.
"you alright there?" he asks, accented and deep. he's not looking at the hand you hold over the sink, thin blood seeping down into the webbing of your fingers. his eyes trail down over your hip instead, lingering on your belly where the counter cuts into you, protecting your lower half from his field of view.
"can i help you?" you snap, unsettled by the sudden presence of a strange man on your porch and by the feeling his gaze incites, spiders crawling all over you.
he doesn't even bother to look chastised, a slick grin spreading across his broad face as he sniffs pointedly, lip curling. he's hunched over a bit to fit in your frame, too tall to be seen otherwise. "yeah, actually." with an elbow braced above his head, he flicks a pamphlet against your storm window to draw your attention. blue and green, calming colors for a calming message, no doubt. he wouldn't be the first missionary to grace your doorway, but he would be the most implacable, with his leather jacket and thick gold chain. you're no theologist, but you doubt the latter day saints would approve of this level of materialism. "wanna talk about god, but uh - that cut seems more important at the moment." he nods at your hand.
"right," you grumble, attention returning to the steady trickle of blood from your knuckle. it doesn't seem too bad, would just need a good amount of pressure to stem it and a few days spent wrapped up. "well, i'm fine - on both accounts, thanks."
"sure you are," he drawls, smile almost as greasy as his hair.
"i meant… i'm okay. i don't need -."
"you sure? i could help -."
"very sure," you snap, ripping off a square of paper towel from the dispenser next to the sink and twisting it into a ribbon which you wrap tightly around your finger. "see? got it covered, thanks. have a good one," you harp, stepping closer to shut the door in his face.
a mistake. one step, two. your toes feel the draft from the door first before it inches up your legs like creeping fingers and you remember your outfit just in time to see his eyes already darting down, expectant as you round the corner of your counter.
how long had he been watching you?
stepping back behind your cover, you try to make your voice as assertive as possible, know you've failed miserably when it comes out a shaky whisper. "i would like you to leave, please."
the man's eyes track back up to yours even as his elbow falls from where it's braced overhead, his callused palm scratching over your door frame as he trails it lower, lower. hardware of the handle jangling under the weight when he drops his palm heavily over it. "you won't let your lord and savior into your life?"
he doesn't wait for an answer, the door squealing on its hinges as he pulls it open. it's not quite necessary for him to duck through the frame, but only just - taller than you by nearly a full foot and broadly built. you back away from him on instinct and curse yourself when you realize this brings you further away from the knife block. the pamphlet skitters across the counter closest to him, a careless toss which you can't help but track, eyes catching on the smudge of red at the bottom corner. it's only then that you realize he isn't carrying any sort of bag, no stockpile on his person to dispense the good word to all his neighbors. you're also fairly certain missionaries have something against working on sundays.
you play along with the ruse anyway, fawning in your fright. "please, sir, i -. i'd love to hear more about… about -."
he cuts you off with no more than a look, eyebrow arching nearly as high as his widow's peak as he tilts his head condescendingly, his boots leaving a messy trail behind him as he stalks closer. "yeah? you need jesus, milaya? need to atone?"
"i -!" you don't make it any further before he's gripping your hip, spinning you until you fold over your counter, the hard press of his fly biting against your nearly bare cunt.
"that's okay, samka, the lord will forgive you for being such a little slut, prancing around in here for all to see in these tiny fucking panties." he snaps the gusset against you to prove his point, hairy knuckle brushing against your vulva before disappearing again. his full weight crowds into you, unbearable as it is inescapable. you can feel his breath ghosting down your neck, the scratch of stubble behind your ear. and yet - he doesn't kiss you, plants a broad hand next to yours instead, doesn't even flinch when bacon grease pops and splashes over the knuckles. "you know," he drawls, almost conversationally, as if the tableau before him has finally registered. "most people offer us food after inviting us in."
the distraction is such a welcome prospect, you don't even bother correcting him. "would you like some?" you ask, voice high and reedy with a manic sort of hope. "i have plenty, i could -."
you're cut off with a yelp when he crouches, enough so that he can span his palms under the crease of your ass and lift you the final few inches necessary to fully hinge your torso over the counter. his knees pop as he falls to them, the anticipated soft press of lips finally landing, directly on your core. he doesn't seem to mind the barier still in place, drags his hot tongue over the cotton to press it into your hole, gets a taste of you and hums, diffused as it is.
"yeah, i think i'll stay for a bite."
divider by @/cafekitsune
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jessica-read · 3 months ago
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Ok, I know we're still in winter, but I'm just dreaming of laying on a sun lounger sipping cocktails in my little swim suits and heels 🤭💕
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elryuse · 8 months ago
Note
Yandere mafia rose x male reader who likes to make her jealous
Mafia's Lover
Yandere Mafia Rosé X Male Reader
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The world was a blur of red and pain. I remember the cold metal biting into my flesh, the acrid tang of blood filling my senses. A lifetime ago, it seemed. I was a ghost in my own body, a hollow shell drifting through a crimson haze. Then, he appeared. Y/n. An oasis in the desert, a beacon in the storm. His hands, gentle as a summer rain, tended to my wounds. His eyes, filled with a compassion I’d never known, held me together.
In that vulnerability, I found a strength I never knew existed. I clung to him, to the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breath. In those stolen moments, love bloomed in my heart, a defiant flower pushing through the concrete of my world. But my world was a harsh mistress. A world of shadows, where loyalty was a chain, and betrayal a death sentence. I couldn’t drag him into that darkness. I had to let him go, even as it tore me apart.
Months turned into an endless winter. The world was a monochrome canvas of gray, devoid of color, devoid of hope. But then, a flicker of life, a spark of defiance ignited within me. I needed to see him, to feel the warmth of his presence once more.
And there he was, my heart aching at the sight. Surrounded by a flock of giggling girls, he was a sun radiating warmth. A sun that should have been mine alone. Rage, a venomous serpent, coiled in my gut. How dare they? How dare they infiltrate my world, my Y/n?
I watched him through the binoculars, a silent voyeur to a scene that was both beautiful and agonizing. His laughter, once a melody reserved for me, was now shared with others. A bitter taste rose in my mouth, a cocktail of jealousy and longing.
I had to have him back. Not just for the love I felt, but for the control, the power it gave me. I was a queen in a kingdom of shadows, and he was my crown jewel.
The next day, I stood at his door, my heart a drumbeat of anticipation and fear. The moment he opened the door, my world shifted. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a raw pain that mirrored my own. It was intoxicating.
“I missed you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. But my hands, they spoke a different language. They wrapped around his, a possessive claim. His wince was music to my ears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, my voice low, a purr of menace.
His eyes, wide with fear, were exactly what I wanted. He was trapped, a bird caught in my web.
“Those girls don’t deserve you,” I hissed, my voice laced with venom. “All you need is me. And only me.”
With a decisive pull, I dragged him inside, closing the door on the world. We were alone, two souls caught in a tempestuous dance of love, obsession, and control.
His fear was a sweet nectar, fueling my desire. He was mine now, completely and utterly. I would mold him, shape him into the perfect reflection of my desires. The world outside could wait. This was our moment, our world. A world of two.
I ran my fingers through his hair, the softness a stark contrast to the storm raging within me. His eyes held a mixture of fear and something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher. It intrigued me.
"Remember when I was weak, and you were my strength?" I asked, my voice soft, almost seductive. His eyes flickered, a silent acknowledgement. "I gave you everything, Y/n. My trust, my love, even a part of myself."
I paused, letting the words sink in. "And what did I get in return? Betrayal."
His lips parted to speak, but I silenced him with a gesture.
"Don't," I warned. "Your words are meaningless now."
I leaned in close, my breath warm against his skin. "Now, it's my turn to shape our destiny."
I could feel his fear, a delicious tremor running through him. It was intoxicating. I wanted to break him, to rebuild him in my image. And then, I would possess him completely. Body and soul.
I smiled, a predator's grin. The game had just begun.
A week had passed since I dragged him into this gilded cage I called home. In those seven days, I had transformed from the predator to the caretaker. I cooked, I cleaned, I tended to his every need. I had become the woman I had always pretended to be, the one I thought he wanted. And to my surprise, he seemed to be thawing.
The fear in his eyes had gradually been replaced by a hesitant trust. His body, once tense and rigid, now relaxed under my touch. It was a slow, insidious process, but I was patient. He was mine to keep, and I would ensure it.
I watched him sleep, his face serene in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. There was a vulnerability in his slumber that made my heart ache with a strange tenderness. This was the man who had saved me, the man who had ignited a fire within my soul. And now, he was mine.
Morning brought with it a new routine. I would wake him with soft kisses, the scent of coffee and toast filling the air. His sleepy smile was a reward I craved. We would spend the mornings together, lazy and intimate. I would read to him, my voice a soothing melody that seemed to calm his spirit.
In the afternoons, I would teach him about the world beyond his sheltered existence. He was fascinated by the stories of my life, the danger, the thrill. I painted a picture of a world that was both terrifying and exhilarating, and he listened with rapt attention.
As the days turned into a week, I began to see a change in him. The fear was fading, replaced by a quiet strength. He was learning to rely on me, to trust me. And in that trust, I found a love I never knew existed.
One evening, as we sat by the fireplace, I took his hand in mine. "You are safe here, Y/n," I whispered, my voice soft as velvet. "No one can hurt you."
He looked at me, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion I couldn't fathom. "I know," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.
I leaned in, our lips brushing together. It was a tentative kiss, filled with unspoken promises. When we pulled apart, I could feel the shift, a seismic change in the dynamics between us. He was no longer the terrified victim. He was becoming my equal.
My world, once a monochromatic canvas of black and white, was now painted with a thousand hues. There was still the darkness, the undercurrent of my past, but it was no longer the dominant force. Love, a foreign concept, was now a vibrant part of my life.
Time passed, and I managed to extricate myself from the underworld. The life of a mafia boss was not one I wanted anymore. I wanted a quiet life, a simple life, with Y/n by my side.
We opened a small cafe, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world. It was a world away from the life I had once known. But in this new reality, I found a happiness I never thought possible.
Y/n thrived in his new role. He was a natural with people, his smile a beacon of warmth. And as always, he attracted attention. Young girls would flock to the cafe, their eyes sparkling with admiration. I watched him interact with them, the same warmth and kindness he had shown me.
A pang of jealousy would sometimes strike, a ghost of my past self. But then he would catch my eye, and with a playful wink, he would send the jealousy packing. I would smile, a mixture of love and amusement.
One evening, as the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the cafe, I found myself watching him. He was laughing with a group of young customers, his eyes sparkling with mirth. I felt a surge of protectiveness, a remnant of my past life.
I walked over to him, my arms wrapping around his waist from behind. He turned, his smile widening. "Jealous, my love?" he teased.
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Maybe a little," I admitted.
He chuckled, pulling me closer. "You're mine, remember?" he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.
I turned in his arms, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. As we pulled apart, I looked into his eyes, seeing the love and adoration reflected there. I was home.
Days turned into weeks, months, and years. Our love deepened, a rich tapestry woven with threads of passion, trust, and companionship. The cafe became more than just a place of business; it was our sanctuary, a testament to our love story.
And as I watched the world change around us, one thing remained constant: my love for Y/n. He was my everything, my beginning and my end. And in the quiet moments, as we sat together in the warmth of our cafe, I knew I had found my happily ever after.
The end.
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thecheekyblog · 2 months ago
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It Sunday!! So it is reset Sunday!
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I don’t know for you but February has been pretty draining to me and knowing this month is coming to an end, i feel today is a great time to do some introspection.
Take your journal, and think about the fact that you made it through that challenging month. For me, I haven’t been this busy with work and felt like all that i do was not enough and just felt overwhelmed over all. Than i realized, man ITS WINTER! Everything would be overwhelming, i dont go out, way less socializing, more procrastination, no shit i feel so low.
If you live in Canada, especially in Quebec, you would know that winter been kicking our ass and i decided to do some about it! I look into ways to bring more joy into my life, active joy. Not Netflix or TikTok (which tbh turned in into a zombie lowkey)
I decided to find indoors hobbies and go back into walking 10k steps a day. I felt like i needed to find a purpose until summer comes back and i can be the goddess of the sun that i was always meant to be.
For the hobbies, i started reading again, BAKING ( because fly girls bake pookie ), working out more (yoga mostly because I’m a stiff queen rn and i dont like it).
So on this fine Sunday, do a list of the things the better you would be doing! Like what perfect you do on her free time you know! And also take some time to reflect and be grateful for yourself and all that makes you who you are.
Use today to plan this last week of February and prepare what you want your March to be. March will mark the end of the first quarter of the year. MAKE IT COUNT!
Here is a list of few hobbies you can do inside.
Creative & Artsy Hobbies 🎨
Painting & Drawing – Watercolors, acrylics, or digital art
Calligraphy & Hand Lettering – Beautiful writing styles
Scrapbooking – Preserve memories with creativity
Pottery & Clay Sculpting – Handmade ceramics and crafts
Mindful & Relaxing Hobbies 🧘🏾‍♀️
Meditation & Mindfulness – Stress relief and focus
Journaling – Gratitude journaling, dream logs, bullet journaling
Reading – Fiction, self-help, history, or poetry
Puzzles & Brain Teasers – Sudoku, crosswords, Rubik’s cubes
Astrology & Tarot Reading – Explore spiritual insights
Learning & Skill-Building Hobbies 📚
Learning a New Language – Apps like Duolingo or Rosetta Stone
Taking Online Courses – Skillshare, Coursera, Udemy
Playing a Musical Instrument – Piano, guitar, ukulele, or digital music production
Coding & Programming – Build websites, apps, or game
Creative Writing – Poetry, short stories, novels
Food & Drink Hobbies 🍽️
Baking & Cake Decorating – Experiment with new recipes
Cooking International Dishes – Try cuisines from different cultures
Mixology & Bartending – Make creative mocktails or cocktails
Fermenting Foods – Kimchi, yogurt, kombucha
I hope this help and i hope you giriliees are okay
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joelalorian · 4 months ago
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Wonder in Winterland - Part I
Hallmark!Joel Miller x f!reader | wc: 2790 | masterlist
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Summary: You, a city girl on a cross-country road trip a week before Christmas, find yourself stranded in a whimsical Christmas town. You soon discover there is more to life than big city dreams. Based on the Hallmark movie Love You Like Christmas.
Warnings: None (although the rest of this blog is 18+ mdni). This is utter fluff and whimsy. Limited descriptions of reader and no use of y/n. Enjoy it with a cuppa hot cocoa and a warm blankie. Will post on Sundays throughout December.
Dividers courtesy of saradika-graphics. This magical moodboard is all thanks to @brittmb115!
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Part I
A thousand miles from nowhere, you grew weary of driving despite the scenic view of snow-dusted evergreens looming like sentinels along the barren stretch of highway. The old pickup your dad left you ate up the miles like an asphalt sandwich, its engine rumbling almost louder than the outdated radio as it struggled to stay tuned to the local stations. The scent of pine mixed with motor oil hung in the cab, a reminder of just how old the truck was and the amount of time you spent trapped in it so far.
If not for the irrational fear of flying, you’d already be in San Francisco, enjoying a cocktail at Pier 39, watching the sea lions as you killed time before your long-time client’s wedding.
Instead, you were twenty-seven hours into the cross-country trek with too many hours left to go and you had to pee so bad you could practically taste it. Shifting uncomfortably, you casted a glance at the towering mountains lining the valley, the sun fighting to peek through the lingering fog as it rose above the peaks. When traffic ground to a halt, a frustrated groan slipped past your lips, and you threw the transmission into park.
Popping the door open with a loud creak, you took the unexpected break as a sign to stretch your legs. The brisk air outside bit at your skin when you stepped out, breath forming small clouds that disappeared into the winter wind. You weaved between cars to the soundtrack of beeping horns and impatient shouts until coming upon the cause of the delay.
A trailer full of Christmas trees sat partially overturned, half its cargo scattered across the highway like some messed up holiday party. Among the chaos stood a man – tall, broad, and clad in a thick, well-worn flannel jacket that looked as rugged as the mountains behind him. The breeze caught his dark curls, tossing them across his forehead as he worked to pile the fallen trees back onto the trailer. Wholly unbothered by the flustered drivers glaring and honking at him, the man worked with steady, unrushed focus.
“Need any help?” you called out, slipping on a pair of leather gloves as you approached.
The man’s head snapped toward you at the sound of your voice, and he paused, brow loosening and a small smile pulling at his lips as warm brown eyes drank you in with a curious, amused glint. “I’d hate to ruin your pretty little outfit, darlin’.”
Your eyebrow arched. A playful smiled tugged at your lips as you stepped closer, snow crunching under your heeled boots. “You think my outfit’s pretty?”
His expression faltered for a split second, replaced by something warmer. “I think you’re pretty. The outfit’s just window dressing.” His grin widened as he added, “I’m Joel, by the way.”
Your laugh bubbled out, light and unexpected, cutting through the cold rhythmically. Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his cheeks tinged pink – not from the chill, but from something else entirely. Just as your gloved hands were about to clasp in a handshake, some asshole laid on his horn with a shout.
“Can you two get a room or something? Some of us have somewhere important to be!”
Turning to glare at the offender, you opened your mouth and the New Jersey in you came flying out. “Can it, dick cheese! Get off your fat ass and help if you’re in that much of a hurry!”
A bark of laughter drew your attention back to Joel as he shook his head in merry disbelief before going back to moving the trees. This time, you didn’t ask if he wanted help and bent to grab one of the smaller trees to lug it toward the trailer. The cold bit at your cheeks, breaking through your coat that was clearly more for style than warmth. The fresh scent of pine filled your lungs, as you hefted the tree back to the trailer.
Joel stood a few paces away with a larger tree slung over his broad shoulder, watching with an amused tilt of his head as you struggled past him.
“Aw come on, doll. You don’t have to do that.” His voice held a soft, almost pleading quality, but hidden behind that was a flicker of admiration as you ignored him and carried on despite the struggle. His expression shifted – half a smirk, half something deeper – as you hefted the tree onto the trailer and turned to fetch yet another one.
The pair of you continued working, Joel’s eyes flicking toward you now and then, lingering a little longer than they should. Around you, the chaos of impatient honking and shouts became nothing more than white noise.
A few others – including the mouthy asshole from earlier – seemed to get the hint that the roadway would clear quicker if they helped and within ten minutes, two of the travel lines were clear and traffic started to flow once again.
“Thanks for your help. You should probably get going, you look like you’re freezing,” Joel said as the last tree landed on the trailer and he pulled the tie down straps taut. “I’m gonna be here a while waiting for the tow truck. Can’t fix the trailer without some equipment.”
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Joel.” You shook Joel’s hand again, the heat from him worming its way through the material of your gloves, curling around you like the heat from a distant fire.
“You, too, darlin’.”
You hesitated, staring at each other for several long moments, not wanting to leave but you didn’t have a good enough excuse to stay. Flashing one last charming smile, you waved and sauntered back to your truck, which sat alone in the still blocked third lane.
The moment your truck refused to start, panic set in, swirling like winter wind in your chest. You hopped out again, popping the hood with more frustration than sense. Steam wafted from the still warm engine in thin, mocking wisps as you stared at the confusing labyrinth of parts comprising the engine compartment, entirely clueless. The frigid air nipped at your fingers and numbed your toes – why didn’t you dress appropriately knowing you’d be driving through a winter wonderland for half the journey.
The crunch of boots over the mix of ice and gravel sounded behind you, causing a shiver to wander down your spine. “I believe it’s my turn to offer a hand,” Joel said, his voice a deep rumble, sending a ripple of something straight to your core. When you turned, he was closer than you expected, his warm brown eyes softening as he took in your helpless shrug. “Let me take a look.”
He leaned over the engine, his broad and calloused hands moving deftly as though coaxing the old truck into cooperation. You caught yourself staring at the way his jaw clenched in concentration, the salt and pepper scruff along his jaw catching the light when he titled his head. Each frustrated grunt from him made your stomach flip, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. Your thoughts began wandering in a certain direction as you eyed the breadth of him…
After a few fruitless minutes, Joel straightened, wiping his palms along the dark denim covering his legs before running one hand through his dark curls. The movement left his hair deliciously mussed, and you ached to run your own fingers through it.
“Can’t do much out here in the cold. Jimmy’s got the tools and parts we’d need back at his garage. Lemme just call him to give ‘em the heads up he’ll need to tow it back.”
As he spoke into his phone, explaining your plight to Jimmy, you realized how much you appreciated the way he said your name, drawing it out like something worth savoring. The way he stood close, his shoulders hunched slightly, broad body breaking the wind to protect you from the cold as much as he could, didn’t go unnoticed either.
“He’ll be here in a few,” Joel said once the call ended. “You can wait in my truck if you’re cold. I’ll give you a lift into town after.” Joel led you toward the shiny black four by four parked half on the shoulder, opening the door for you like a true country gentleman. Holding out a hand, he helped you climb up into the passenger seat as the sound of large tires on the rumble strip sounded behind you. “Up you get. That’ll be Jimmy. Feel free to start ‘er up and put the heat on. We’ll be done in no time.”
Your hands grasped the ring of keys and immediately stuck the right one into the ignition. The truck growled to life with a simple turn of your wrist and heat poured from the vents, carrying the heady scent of fresh-cut trees and sandalwood through the cab – his scent, you realized, and it was unexpectedly comforting. You adjusted in the seat, your fingers brushing over the fabric of a thick Carhart jacket slung over the headrest, as the warmth of the truck seemed to seep into your very core.
You had just pulled the jacket off the seat to wrap around yourself when Joel opened the driver-side door and climbed in, his movements fluid and unhurried. He glanced your way as he settled into the seat, the corners of his lips twitching upward when he noticed you bobbing your head along to Bing Crosby crooning over the radio.
“That was quick!” you exclaimed.
Joel’s chuckle was low and intimate. “Just needed the right leverage,” he said, resting his hands briefly on the heated steering wheel. His large, strong fingers flexed as though testing their strength after the labor. “Jimmy’s hooking up your truck now. He’ll be right behind us.”
You nodded, gaze drifting to his profile to drink in the sharp lines of his jaw and the pink tinge on his cheeks. Snow started falling outside as Joel shifted the truck into gear and began driving. As he steered the large truck down the highway, you caught a faint, amused glint in his eyes when he asked, “So, road-tripping for the holidays?”
The pair of you made easy conversation as he drove. You told him about your travel plans, and he told you about his farm. The miles passed in a blur before he signaled to take the next exit.
“Winterland?” you whispered upon seeing the welcome sign indicating the town’s name, the word slipping past your lips in wonder.
The small town of Winterland was like stepping into a Christmas card come to life. Lights twinkled on every storefront, reflections dancing off the snow-covered sidewalks. Wreaths adorned old gas-style lampposts, and the faint sound of holiday music drifted through the air from scattered outdoor speakers. Joel slowed the truck as he drove down Main Street, and you leaned closer to the window, the scene outside stealing your breath.
Joel glanced at you, warmth lighting his expression as he watched your awe unfold. “It grows on you,” he murmured, his voice almost too quiet to hear over the hum of the engine.
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“You have got to be kidding me!” The urge to stomp your foot like a child nearly impossible to fight, you settled for a frustrated huff instead. “Nearly a week? Really?”
Jimmy the tow truck driver slash mechanic slash owner of the only gas station in town shrugged regretfully, one hand placed on the paunch pulling taut on his coveralls, the other stuck in his pocket. “Between the holidays and the weather, that’s the best my supplier could do. Parts for old trucks like that aren’t common, hon.”
“Can’t you order the parts from Amazon or something? They have two-day delivery!”
“Sorry, ma’am. I checked already and they’d have the same problems delivering the parts. That’s the downfall of small mountain towns, unfortunately, and it doesn’t get much smaller than Winterland.” Jimmy tried to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace on his grizzled face.
“Damn. Thanks for trying, Jimmy. I know you’re doing your best and I appreciate it.” Bumping your fist against the counter twice, you spun on your heels to leave only to turn back around. “Uh, is there like an inn or hotel or something nearby? I’m going to need a place to stay if the truck is going to take a week to fix.”
“That we do. The Millers run a small bed and breakfast down the road. It’s the only one in town. I’ll give you a ride in a minute.”
You waved him off. “That’s ok, I’ll just walk. It’ll give me the chance to take in the town.”
Jimmy eyed you doubtfully, questioning your clothing and footwear, which were clearly not suitable for the winter weather in the mountains. “If you say so, doll. You know it’s still snowing out, right?”
Five minutes later, you regretted brushing off Jimmy’s offer of a ride. Between the salt on the sidewalks, the falling snow, and the biting gusts of wind, dragging your rolling suitcase while trying to keep warm was a huge pain in the ass. That and you swore your toes were nothing more than little ice cubes attached to your feet.
When you finally reached the bed and breakfast, cleverly named the Evergreen House at Winterland, the scent of cinnamon and fresh-cut pine greeted you like an old friend. The cozy warmth of the lobby wrapped around you, the crackling fire in the hearth casting dancing shadows on the walls that mesmerized you.
Everything about this town, including its buildings and people, reminded you of Christmas. What was it like in the summer, you wondered.
“Hi there,” a friendly voice greeted you from down the hall and you glanced up to find a beautiful, dark-skinned woman walking toward you. Dressed in well-worn jeans and a thick ivory sweater, feet clad in fuzzy slippers, your own chilled, damp body quaked with jealousy over how comfortable and warm she looked. “You must be the new guest Jimmy told me to expect. I’m Maria.”
Replying with your name and a smile, you added, “I hope you have a room for me? I’m at a loss for where else to look if not.”
“Of course! We have the best room for you and plenty of food and drink to keep you sustained for as long as you need. What brings you to town?”
Maria led you up the rounded stairway as you shared the story of driving across the country and the old truck refusing to start after a delay on the highway. You spared her the details, though. She stopped in front of dark wooden door, a hand-carved sign on it reading “Blue Spruce”, and opened it to reveal a cozy sitting area and a large bed. “This is your room. We named all the rooms after Christmas trees. It was my husband’s idea – his brother owns the tree farm on the outskirts of town.”
Putting the pieces together, you asked, “Your husband is Joel’s brother?”
“You know Joel?” Maria inquired, brows arching curiously. She seemed delighted by that fact, judging by the smile slowly spreading across her lips.
“Well, yeah, I met him out on the highway. He’s the reason for the traffic jam and why I ended up here in Winterland rather than stranded somewhere else along the road.”
“Well, isn’t that serendipitous!” Maria replied with a clap of her hands. “Joel and Sarah are coming for dinner tonight. You’ll join us, of course.”
Maria’s excitement was infectious, and you smiled in return. You couldn’t help but wonder who Sarah was – a girlfriend or wife, probably, as your luck tended to go – and if Joel’s reaction to your unexpected reunion would be as enthusiastic as hers. Maria left you to get settled in and rest for a bit before dinner. You changed into something more comfortable for napping and barely laid down before something scratched at the door with a low whine.
“What in the world?” you murmured as you shuffled toward the door. A golden retriever sat waiting for you, tongue lolling and a Santa-themed bandana around its neck. “Well, hello there. Who might you be?”
The dog trotted right past you like he owned the place, and you spotted the name Barkley printed on the bandana as he went by. “Barkley, huh? The Miller family really went all in on the Christmas tree charm, didn’t they?”
Barkley jumped on the bed and whined, clearly begging you to let him nap there. Giggling softly, you shut the door and climbed back under the covers, falling asleep with Barkley snuggled right up to your side like your own personal radiator.
tbc
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emkayewrites · 8 days ago
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Chapter 40 of my slow-burn, friends-to-lovers Lukola fanfiction. It's a few months before the Bridgerton S3 press tour and their relationship is getting interesting.
26th August 2023 – London (UK)
“Oh, Jaysus. I’m starting to take this weather personally,” Nicola muttered as she slid into the plush booth, her jacket slipping off her shoulders as she exhaled. The warmth of the bar wrapped around her, a welcome contrast to the crisp evening air outside. She had just returned from a sun-soaked winter in Sydney, only to find London already tipping into autumn.
“You definitely missed the standard three days of British summer.”  Camilla said with a sympathetic shrug, already halfway through her cocktail.
Around them, a soft hum of conversation filled the bar, muffled by the golden glow of pendant lights that swayed gently above each table.
“Anyway, you’re late,” Camilla added, nudging a menu across the table.
“It’s these bloody heels. Why do I do this to myself?” Nicola lifted one foot, revealing a pair of deep velvet platforms that were as beautiful as they were impractical.
Camilla laughed. “Because you have taste. And a flair for drama.”
She was effortlessly chic in high-waisted black trousers and a cream silk blouse that shimmered with every movement. A delicate gold chain rested at her collarbone, perfectly paired with bold red lipstick she wore like a signature. Nicola, by contrast, had chosen a midnight-blue wrap dress woven with subtle silver threads—a quiet mix of comfort and elegance.
“So,” Nicola said, reaching for the cocktail Camilla had already ordered for her—something citrusy with a hint of spice. “Tell me everything. What’s the latest on your side of the world?”
“Nah, we’re not talking about my mildly chaotic collaborations or my eternal battle not to check emails after ten,” Camilla said, shaking her head. “Not when the plot twist of the season is happening right here.”
Nicola laughed.
“I’m sorry, but I’m still digesting the absolute wildness that is your life right now,” Camilla continued. “You and Luke are basically imitating art.”
Nicola grimaced. “Can we not say that?”
“What?” Camilla arched a brow.
“Imitating art just makes me feel... weird.”
It was funny how some realisations hit you all at once.  As the words left her mouth, it dawned on Nicola that it was hard to confront the fact that their very private love story was also a very public love story.  Although she and Luke had not explicitly spoken about it, she knew the thought of their on-screen romance being compared to their off-screen relationship would not sit right with him either.
“Hmm.” Camilla pursed her lips thoughtfully at her best friend. “I was wondering how you were feeling about that side of it. I don’t imagine it will be easy to navigate.”
In that moment, Nicola felt more grateful than she had ever felt before for Camilla.  To have such a close friend who knew you so well but also shared the same industry as you and just understood your dilemmas was invaluable. 
“Understatement of the century.” Nicola took another sip of her drink.
“Well, is there a world in which your boyfriend being your on-screen boyfriend makes your life easier?” Camilla teased, flashing a mischievous grin. “Think of the brand potential! The collabs! Social media gold! That’s where the real money is anyway.”
Nicola narrowed her eyes. “Don’t.”
“What?  Look at Mollie Mae and Tommy Fury – minted and happy.”
She was clearly joking, but the image alone made Nicola queasy. She knew that she was feeling a deep love for Luke, and she was sure he was feeling the same thing for her.  She also knew that they were not interested in the idea of celebrity, they were both serious about wanting to be known for their craft and their craft alone. 
“I know you’re trying to be funny right now, but I might actually throw up and if I do, I’m aiming at it you.” Nicola grimaced, making Camilla chortle.
“I think you’re going to need laughter to get through this.”  She shrugged. “That and a bit of advice from the old Shondaland PR team.”
Camilla was right.  The production of Bridgerton was a very well-oiled machine, and every moving part was accounted for with some contract or another.  As season leads, she and Luke had signed and notarised a hefty tome that had every kind of stipulation you could think of – everything from ‘no physical alterations’ to ‘morality’ clauses.  There was a prominent section in there about dating one another which stated that it was something that had to be reported to showrunners immediately. 
Although she and Luke were already starting to feel apprehensive about publicly presenting as a couple, and the pressures that would place on them – neither of them had really thought about their contractual obligations.  Would the Bridgerton team even support them dating?  It was not unusual that a network might ask actors not to date especially when it might affect promotional tours and even more so when it might affect the way a fandom connected to a romantic pairing.  What would happen if they dated and then broke up as they started press for the newest season?  Would they have to fake being together for the sake of the show?  What if they stayed together and were going strength from strength as the tour kicked off?  Would they be asked to lean into it, to perform their relationship for the audiences whilst they were in civilian mode as just Luke and Nicola?  Was that the kind of relationship they wanted?  Luke detested sharing anything that was not work on his Instagram and although she was more laidback and happier to share parts of her day and personality on her own social media, even she had a limit.  Her closest relationships were the limit.  Her family were never featured.  She did not intend to feature her boyfriend.  Yet, it would become inevitable would it not?  Then there would be the scrutiny.  Not just of Colin and Penelope but of Nicola and Luke.
“If it means anything,” Camilla said gently, cutting through her thoughts, “I’m really happy for you. We like to act like we’re cynics about love, but seeing you like this? It makes my heart grow a little.”
This elicited a smile from Nicola. “Who said anything about me being happy?”
“Please.” Camilla rolled her eyes. “You practically blush when I say his name “I mean, where did the script end and you guys begin?”
“You know, I think I forgot sometimes.” Nicola let out a deep sigh. “He’s got Colin’s heart but without all the misogyny and fancy tailoring – and he’s so easy to… it’s just so easy to like him.”
“Woah.” Camilla was wide-eyed as she drank in the dreamy expression on Nicola’s face.  She had never seen her quite like this before about a guy.  There was usually something unbothered and casual about her approach to dating and relationships but here, Nicola was most definitely bothered.
“So, what do you think did it?” Camilla leaned forward almost conspiratorially. “Was it filming all those sex scenes?”
Nicola could not help but to flush at this. 
“Oh, God, the sex scenes.” Nicola held her face in her hands.
“That good, huh?” Camilla chuckled.
“Something like that.” Nicola smirked. “Alright, can we get the spotlight of me?”
Camilla looked at her thoughtfully for a moment as she stirred the straw around her drink.
“You seem really… in love.” Camilla finally stated.
“Fuck, I think I really am.” Nicola admitted, a glint of fear in her eyes.
For a moment, they both sat there in silence listening the voices of the men a few tables behind them who were animatedly discussing cryptocurrencies and the stock market.
It was a big deal to digest the fact that she was in love with Luke and to do it out loud with one of her closest friends was really cementing it for her.  This was a real thing that was happening to her. 
Love. 
Being in love.
Being invested in someone. 
Trusting someone.
The only thing she could compare this experience to was with how Ezra used to make her feel.  The difference was that with Luke, she felt on steady ground, and things felt easy.  There was nothing unspoken, there was no tension.  It all just fit together and happened without much effort. 
“Sorry, pal.  I asked you out for a night of fun drinking and catching up, not to give you more to worry about.”
“No, it’s good.” Nicola reassured her. “It’s good to talk about this stuff.  Especially about the work side of things.  Luke and I have just… I think we’ve tried to avoid thinking about how it’s going to affect work.”
“Well, amen to avoidance.” Camilla held up her half-finished drink.
“Amen to avoidance… at least for another night.” Nicola agreed, meeting their glasses together with a clink.
--
Later that night, Nicola lay in her bed with Luke’s body curled against hers.  She was in a deep but troubled sleep with her forehead creased and her breath catching in little starts.
In the depths of her subconscious, she found herself on a bright red carpet.  Cameras flashed in every direction, a frenzy of light and noise.  She moved down the carpet, feeling disoriented.  She had no sense of what she was wearing or even what she was doing there.  In fact, she was feeling something she rarely felt anymore when she was out at an event – she felt self-conscious. Watched. Small.
Then suddenly, Luke was beside her, smiling that easy smile of his. He looked sharp, golden. Every part of him effortlessly camera-ready. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.
“You guys are a beautiful couple!” A female reporter declared.
“What’s it like dating Luke?” Another reported shouted at her.
"Luke’s girlfriend, give us a spin!" Another disembodied voice coming from somewhere.
She tried to open her mouth to answer but no sound came out.
The camera bulbs flared brighter. Her cheeks burned. She tried to step back, to let go of Luke’s hand, but it was like her feet were glued to the floor. The more she tried to pull away, the closer the noise, lights and people seemed to get. 
She knew she was dreaming.  She knew it was a nightmare.  Yet, she did not wake up.
Instead, she nightmare replayed itself over and over again.  Sometimes it started with her on the Bridgerton set being interviewed about Luke.  Sometimes she was on a red carpet again.  Yet, the theme was always the same: everyone around her had a hungry, obsessive need to know everything about her relationship with Luke, and no one was interested in their work as actors and more importantly, in her work as Penelope.
She woke the next morning to a migraine and bright light pouring in through her floor-to-ceiling windows.
Her mouth was dry and her eyes stung.
Luke was still in a deep sleep next to her.
She tried to shake off the uneasy feeling she had, reminding herself that alcohol and anxiety were never a good mix, and she had had quite the cocktail of both the night before.  Yet, the feeling was proving hard to shift.
She really hoped it wouldn’t linger.
(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')
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rosesradio · 2 months ago
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re jercy jason cries during sex, do you think Jason cries when he tops too? do you think Percy cries? if it's a soft and sweet vibe, Jason crying and being sappy could probably be contagious
There was a heat to it—a basic, animalistic heat. How could two people like Jason and Percy—two people who spent their days on the beach, or tidying up their apartment—do something like this? How could they do something like this as if it were any other sort of affection?
The simple answer was that they could not. It was as intense for them as it was for anyone else, perhaps even more so. For Jason, being with Percy was to be enveloped—protected in warm arms, settled with a steady voice. For Percy, being with Jason was to be free in the open air—cute smiles, a warrior and an intellectual.
And when they collided—how could that ever be simple? How could that ever be something to be brushed aside as mortal pleasure and nothing more?
The first time Jason topped, he had propped himself above Percy, all slow movements and questioning whispers. Needless to say, it was adorable. When he finally slipped inside Percy, as smoothly as if he'd done so hundreds of times before, the son of Poseidon let out the shakiest moan. Half of it was due to the cocktail of pain and pleasure, though that feeling was easily overshadowed by the look on Jason's face.
Jason's face was flushed, his thighs quivering, slick lips parted in the smallest 'o'. His eyes were hazy, gaze roving over the pillow by Percy's head. Percy grabbed his face gently, turning his gaze back to meet his eyes.
"You okay?" Percy asked, soft and open. "Your face feels so hot, Jace…"
"'M okay," Jason managed shakily, carefully rocking his hips back, then forward again. Percy let out the tiniest huff of breath at the feeling, causing Jason's mind to spiral. What other sounds could he bring out from Percy's lips?
"You're just so pretty," Jason said, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. Gods, what did he do to deserve Percy underneath him, looking up at him with those stunning green eyes as if he hung the moon. "And you feel so good, and…" he buried his face in the crook of Percy's neck, one of his only safe spaces.
His breath hitched, his eyes stinging.
Fuck, not again.
"'M sorry, I just…" Jason started, his voice weak. A tear or two slipped down his cheeks as he tried to steady his breathing.
"Don't be sorry," Percy insisted. "You have nothing to apologize for…you—mm—f-feel so good, too. Feels perfect inside me, love…" He ran a hand through the back of Jason's hair, nails gently scratching his scalp. "Do you wanna pause?"
Jason shook his head, then opened his mouth only to let out a shaky moan. "Please don't make me stop," his words were hushed and quick, as if making way for the tiny sob that left his lips.
Percy laughed softly, the sound like the sun emerging on a winter's day. "I won't…it just hurts me to hear you get like this, that's all…"
Jason pulled away at the sound of his voice cracking. Sure enough, though nothing would make him admit it, Percy's eyes were watering. A tear slipped down his cheek, though he smiled as he met Jason's eyes.
"How about I ride you?" Percy offered. "You know I love it when you lie back and let me take care of you."
Jason nodded, fighting back another sob. One day, Jason would repay him, would take charge and take care of him. For now, though, Jason couldn't complain about Percy's offer.
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vodika-vibes · 6 months ago
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Hexx x reader with the prompt "it's okay if you fall asleep" (as in the reader is saying that to him) I personally find it crazy that no one has ever written fics for Hexx and Veetch
Blanket Of White
Summary: It’s the first snowfall of the winter, and while you’ve always loved the snow, you know Hexx doesn’t.
Pairing: Clone Trooper Hexx x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1044
Warnings: the Reader called ad'ika, mentions illnesses and amutations
A/N: So, Wookieepedia says that Hexx's personality is his height, so most everything about him is made up. I hope you like it! I made a divider specifically for Hexx, lol.
Click HERE to be added to my taglist
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You step out of the kitchen, the scent of the stew you’ve been lovingly making since morning trailing behind you like a delicious-smelling ghost, your gaze searching the living room to find the man who’s been sharing your home for the better part of a year.
Hexx, a clone trooper who had been stationed on Barton IV with his battalion, was one of only a handful of survivors. The other survivors (Commander Mayday, Lieutenant Veetch, and Crosshair) have already been folded into a Rebellion cell.
Unfortunately, Hexx doesn’t have that option.
In truth, his injuries had been relatively minor, all things considered. The problem wasn’t the injury, the problem was the cold. His armor had been damaged, and he got frostbite…which went untreated until it developed into gangrene. 
Hexx’s entire left leg needed to be amputated.
And while that, normally, wouldn’t have stopped him the fact remains that he’s in almost constant pain and requires a cocktail of painkillers just to be able to function.
It won’t be like this for much longer, though. You’ve finally managed to make enough money to get your hands on a bacta tank. A couple of weeks in that, and all of his pain will be gone, and he can join his Commander.
Your gaze sweeps the room one more time, and then you catch a glimpse of Hexx standing in your sunroom. You watch him for a moment, trying to determine where his headspace is, and then you join him in the sunroom.
“Hexx?”
His dark eyes are locked on the snow falling from the sky, his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white, and tension runs through his frame.
You don’t dare get closer to him.
“Hexx,” You repeat, your voice gentle, “Dinner still needs to simmer for a couple of hours. Why don’t you come away from here?”
He doesn’t move, and he shows no indication that he’s heard you at all.
You frown and turn to the panel next to the door. You press a few buttons, and the sun shades lower over the windows, plunging the room into darkness, the only light coming from the main house.
The sudden change jolts Hexx from whatever trance he seems to have fallen into, and he turns his surprised gaze from the shuttered windows onto you.
“Ah,” He tilts his head and turns to you fully, “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I noticed,” Your smile is kind though, and you offer him your hand, “Come away from here, Hexx.”
His gaze falls to your hand, and then he steps over to you and takes your hand into his much larger one, almost immediately threading your fingers together. Hexx’s hand is freezing, and you place your free hand over the top of his, trying to offer him some warmth.
“Was there something you needed, ad’ika?” Hexx asks as he allows you to tug him into the main part of the house.
“I just wanted to let you know that dinner still needs to simmer for a couple of hours.” You guide him over to the couch and lightly push him to sit down, and then you toss a thick fuzzy blanket over him and tuck it around him.
He releases a huff of laughter, “I’m not cold, ad’ika.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” You counter, as you seriously consider getting a wool hat and pulling it on his head, and maybe a scarf.
Your thoughts must be written on your face because Hexx laughs and tugs his arms free from the blanket so he’s able to tug you to the couch next to him. Then he pulls you so that your face is pressed against his neck.
“Thank you for worrying about me.”
You sigh and snake your arms around his neck, “Of course I worry about you. That’s what I do. I worry.” Your arms tighten around his neck, “I’m going to miss you when you leave.”
“We still have plenty of time left together.” Hexx points out logically, “I’m not leaving just yet.”
You shrug and pull away from him, “But you will. It’s my lot in life, to help you all get back into fighting shape, and then get left behind and forgotten.”
“I don’t think anyone could ever forget you,” Hexx counters dryly, “ad’ika, you gave me a daily sponge bath when I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. I could give you my firstborn child, and it wouldn’t be payment enough.”
“Sure, sure.” You wave your hand dismissively, even as you eye him critically. He still isn’t really himself, the snow is not doing wonders for his mental state, but he seems present enough for the time being.
You’re surprised when his arms tighten around your waist, “What if I don’t want to leave?”
“...beg pardon?”
“Well, you’re all alone out here. And it’s not really safe with the state of the galaxy, and wouldn’t it be better if you had someone around to protect you all of the time?” Hexx asks, his eyes almost pleading with you.
You sigh softly and lightly card your fingers through his hair. Then an amused smile lifts your lips as he lays his head on your chest, his ear over your heart. Hexx’s eyes close and your heart swells with fondness.
None of the other men you’ve cared for have ever been so affectionate with you.
“It’s okay if you fall asleep.” You whisper to him.
“‘M not tired,” He replies, though his body does sag heavily against you, so you doubt the truth in his words.
“We can talk about what comes after during dinner,” You soothe, your fingers gentle as you massage his head, “Get some sleep, Hexx. All will be well. I promise.”
His arms tighten around you and he exhales slowly, “Love you, cyare.” He mumbles as he drifts off to sleep.
Your fingers don’t even pause their gentle motions as he says those world-shattering words. But your gaze does soften as you stare at the top of his head. Oh, you sweet, sweet man. 
If Hexx wants to stay, then you will do everything in your power to make sure that he can. All will be well. You’ll make sure of it.
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enchanteriv · 2 months ago
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Miley for A Holiday to Die for @riverofjazzsims BC Challenge 😎🤘
﹌𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
To get to heaven, one must first die... Or is it not?
"Now stretch well. Repeat, repeat after me. Relax, close your eyes, release all the excess."
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Inhale. Exhaaale. Great.
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"Cherie. Cherie, try to stretch yourself more. .... Ouch.. Oh, I see it. No, that's all. Enough for now. Enough, Cherie. Enough, yeah."
Well, thank you guys. The next lesson is in a week.
﹌𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
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*the inner voice*:
Is in a week? The show is about to start! You know.
Yeeeah. But that's if nothing changes.
Do you really not believe in me that much?
Are you asking me???
Bro..
﹌𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Aloha. My name is Miley. I am 28 years old.
I spent my entire life in a hot tropical corner of the world called Sulani. Love this damn place.
No matter how much I ran barefoot on the warm sand, no matter how much I tamed the naughty waves, no matter how much I spent time on the beach.
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I work as an instructor of spiritual practices and yoga. I help islanders find harmony in their bodies and mind.
I believe that physical activity and mindfulness are important for our health. Otherwise, at some point you will suddenly realize that you are a fucking bag of crumbling bones. But optimism is our everything.
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Of course, we are all human and not without weaknesses. Sometimes I like to drink a little. You know, these local cocktails are damn good. I also love ice cream. Get it? That's something, right?
﹌𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Why did I decide to go on the show?
You know, maybe I would have stayed stuck in this hole. But this is a completely new experience. And I challenge him!
*inner voice*
Should we tell them?
Don't you think it sounds strange?
Not at all. Be yourself, man!
Oke. Broooo
And you know, I believe that sometimes you need to notice the signs that the universe sends us.
Like. Once, I was lying on the beach. I was flipping through the news feed. I saw this show. I saw winter. The rays of the scorching sun were enveloping me. And I fell asleep.
* It looked like sunstroke to be honest.... Shut up!*
And you know, I had this dream about this snowy madness. I was there. Everything seemed so real! And I held her hand.
*Or it's just a dream? .... Not now, please.*
Yeah. What am I talking about? Oh, yeah, this is nothing more than the Watcher telling me that I should try.
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The path will show me what I am looking for and what I will find.
But Winter, baby.
If you see in me at least a little bit of the beauty that I see in you. Call me.
Info:
Name: Miley O'Problem
Age: 28
Orientation: Hetero
Traits: Mischief, Active, Erratic
Skills: Fitness, Wealth, Mischief
Occupation: Yoga Instructor
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