#better’ and this and that and I get she was trying to be nice and everything

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[kirislovelygf]

self-care night (sevika x fem! reader)

contents: after the battle and after losing jinx and isha, you take it upon yourself to take care of sevika, giving her a much needed quiet night. total fluff, you and sevika are married, post seaosn 2 finale, sevika is finally taken care of like she deserves <3

wrd count: 1.6k

a few mornings ago, sevika had her first day on the job as a councilwoman. 

caitlyn gave up her seat on the council to give sevika the opportunity to speak up for zaun. 

she came home that evening angry as anything. the other councilpeople acted like she didn't even exist. 

and when she was able to speak up, her requests went in one ear and out the other. 

when she received the opportunity to have a seat on the council, we were thrilled. but after that day, she's been trying hard not to blow up on everyone and confirm their suspicions of what would happen with a zaunite on the council. 

tonight, i made her a warm and filling meal and set up the bathroom with candles and pleasant soaps so she can take a relaxing bath. 

i was sitting on the couch reading a book when she came home. 

she closes the door and looks up at me. "hi." she mutters. 

"hey. another long day?" i ask her gently. 

"tch.. you tell me." she joked. she sat down at the kitchen table that was just beside the front door to yank her boots off her feet. 

i close my book and placed it aside before walking over to her. as she struggled to untie the laces of her boots, i cupped her face so she could look up at me. 

"sorry, honey." i muttered before i kissed her. "at least you get the weekend off." i said as i looked at her face. she smiled gently before i crouched to untie the laces of her boots. 

"hey, i was doing that." she chuckled as i threw them on the doormat. "i'm not helpless." 

"just let me take care of you." i smiled. i look at her once more. "why don't you wash up for dinner. i was able to make your favorite tonight." i said to her as i stepped away to check on the food on the stove. 

i hear her come up beside me and take a look at the food that's simmering. 

"damn.. all this for just us?" she said. 

"yeah. i know you skipped out on lunch, so you must be starving." i said as i stirred the meat on the saucepan. 

"how'd you know i skipped lunch?" she asks me. i looked up at her. "i always do. now, go. wash your hands." she laughs softly before washing her hands in the sink. 

i quickly plate everything for her and place ehr food at the table just as she sits down. once i set everything down, i went to plate my own food. 

i turned to go sit down and i saw she hadn't touched anything in front of her. didn’t even move to pick up her fork. "what are you waiting for? eat." i chuckled. 

"i'm waiting for you, dummy." she chuckled, picking up her fork. i smiled at her as i settled into my seat. 

dinner was quiet but nice. i left music playing on the radio as i watched her enjoy her meal like she hasn't had one in forever. 

"this is.. amazing, honey. shit, i was starving." she said after slamming her cup of water down. i chuckled lightly. 

"i can tell." she smiles softly at me. after she got some food in her system, she talked to me about her stressful day as she waited for me to finish my meal. 

"they don't know.. anything about what life is like down here. hell, half of them think we've grown up in sewer pipes." she said quickly. 

"they cannot be serious." i shook my head lightly. "you would think they're stupid at first glance." she jokes. 

"maybe once they have someone with common sense on the council, they'll make better decisions." 

"yeah.. it's gonna take a while though." she hums. i watch her soft expression that is rarely ever seen. i love my wife. 

after washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen, i went nad ran the bath for her while she was occupied in our room, cleaning her mechanical arm. 

once i lit the last candle and turned off the lights, i went to our room to see her at her desk tinkering with the screws and nooks and crannies of her arm. 

"hey, vika?" i said softly. 

"hm?" she looks up at me from her device. "i ran you a bath. come on." i muttered

she smirks over her shoulder. "oh yeah?" 

"don't be gross. it's not like that." i chuckled. 

"oh.. damn.." she grumbled. "come on." i laugh. she follows me to the bathroom and i stand, leaning on the doorway

"you can stay there for however long you want. just relax, alright?" 

"whoa.." she gasped lightly at the acne in the bathroom. 

she looks down at me. "i- you didn't have to do all this." she hummed. 

i shrugged. "you're right. but i wanted to." 

she smiles. she wraps her arm around me while i do the same with both of mine. 

"i don't deserve you. seriously." she hummed after planting a kiss on my head. 

"yeah, you do." i said softly. 

i sat in our room while sevika took her bath. as i was flipping through the pages of my book, i remembered i had gone out and bought a scrub. at a shop up on topside, so it's bound to be good. 

i found it and went to the bathroom to give it to her. i knocked before walking into the dimly lit bathroom. she was sitting in the bath with her hair guarding her eyes from being seen at the side. 

"i bought this scrub today and thought you might like it." i said softly. “you did? why?” 

i sat on my knees as i unscrewed the top of the bottle. “it reminded me of you. here, smell." i said to her. 

i held it up to her nose and she took a quick whiff before humming. "it's nice.. like pine." she said. 

she went to grab it but i pulled it away. "let me." i said. 

"come on, honey. i can clean myself just fine." she chuckled softly. "no one's saying you can't. i just wanna do it for you." 

i look at her eyes before moving her strands aside. "you can't get your back anyway." i said. 

she rolled her eyes. "alright.." she hummed. i got up to find a stool and sat on it as i took a seat beside the tub, sitting behind her. 

the smell of snowy pine trees quickly invaded our noses as i massaged the scrub into her scarred back. 

looking at her muscles and scars, i imagined what it must be like to be her. to experience her life. 

her mother died at birth, father died even later. no siblings to mourn with her.

a best friend turned boss. now dead also.  

two young girls that were like her daughters, dead too. 

i feel like if i followed that same fate, she would end up offing herself. 

so much loss in her life. and she still stood strong every day without fail. 

"why are you doing all this?" she spoke up quietly. 

"hm?" i said as i rinsed off the soap crystals. 

"the dinner... the bath, everything you did tonight." she said. 

"i'm your wife, vika. it's what i enjoy doing." i said softly. 

there was a beat of silence. 

"it feels strange being taken care of like this. " she admitted. 

i poured water over her back again, watching the tiny crystals fall into the water. 

“i know..” i said softly. 

she shifts in the water, bringing her knees up to her chest. 

"sevika, you've devoted your entire life to bringing justice to our people. i've watched you take care of others, put their lives over your own.." i said, glancing over at her scarred stub that used to carry her left arm. 

i gently massaged the scrub over it, letting the scent sink into her skin. 

"it's like that's all you know how to do." i hummed. 

"after a while, you forget how to do anything else." she said quietly. 

"that's why i want to take care of you. while you learn how to pick yourself up again." i said, pouring water over her shoulder.

i’ve reminded her of this since we first got married. while she tells me she believes me, sometimes it slips. 

“you know, people look at you and see a terrifying old woman who can kill them with just a look.. and you are.” i said, to which she laughed softly. 

“but when i look in your eyes. when you hug me in the night when ere sleeping, all i see is a sweet girl who’s in need of love. and i want to give it to her.”

“so, while you're out there looking after the lanes… i’ll be here at the end of every day to take care of you.” i said. 

i rinse off the last of the soap from her shoulders and leaned back slightly. 

“okay?” 

she’s quiet for a second but turns her head slightly. “yeah.. okay.” she hums. 

i moved from my seat and sat next to her. i reached out to her chin and turned her head slightly to kiss her cheek. “i love you, you old softie.” i muttered. 

she looks at me with tears welling up in her eyes. 

“i love you. so much.” she said quietly. 

i held her face in my palm as i scanned her face before i kissed her lips. i pull away from her and smile softly. “you finish up here, alright?” 

i left her int he bathroom and waited for her in our bed. 

it was slightly cold, i just put on the freshly washed sheets, a new fuzzy blanket, and lit a candle that made the room smell like sugar cookies. 

she was dead asleep in seconds. 

a/n: i need to put sevika in my pocket, i love her and she deserves the world.

[insomniadreamzz]

Imma go combine two requests in that one.

Request 1: i was thinking if you could write something like jinx using her shimmer speed for fucking?

Request 2: If you still take requests, and when you get a chance, could you do a G!P Jinx x fem reader? The scenario I was picturing was that they are cuddling with the reader in Jinx's lap, and the reader is sort of grinding against her as they try and reposition themselves. And they're unaware of what it's doing to Jinx and eventually Jinx has enough and and fucks the reader right then and there.

———

My good girl

Mentions of G!P, smut, rough sex, overstimulation, blowjob, bratty Reader, dom!Jinx

You finally got Jinx away from her work bench, cuddling for a while now, you straddling her lap while your head rested in the crook of her neck. You loved cuddling with her, inhaling her beautiful scent. In moments like this even Jinx was calm, not being her usual bubbly self. The only thing that you could hear was her calm breathing and feeling her hand caress up and down your back. Jinx showing affection like this is a rare thing so you enjoyed every second.

„I love you.“ You whispered, your breath tickling her a little, she pressed a kiss on your forehead. „I love you too.“ You loved hearing her say that, slightly shifting on her lap to reposition yourself a little, feeling how Jinx‘s body tensed up but she didn’t say anything yet. You did move again, your crotch grinding against hers and you leaned up to have a better view of her now, you could see her cheeks being flushed red and her expression showing a little bit of weakness. You didn’t think about anything not innocent so you didn’t really understand why she looked at you like this.

„What? You okay?“ You giggle innocently, placing a soft kiss on her lips, as you do so you shifted again. „Ngh…fine that’s enough.“ Jinx groaned as she flipped you over, now being on top of you as she pushed you into the mattress. „Don’t you think I noticed this?“ She grumbled as her hands pinned yours down, she was being serious but you still didn’t get it. „Noticed what? We were cuddling.“ You mentioned and she let out a little sigh before pressing her clothed crotch against yours, making you feel her bulge.

Your cheeks instantly heat up, surprised by her getting excited so fast. „I-…I didn’t think you would get that hard because of a little shifting.“ Your words made her grunt, rolling her eyes annoyed. „Yea sure. You grind against me and think I won’t get hard? Nice try love, I am gonna give you what you deserve for lying to me. You know I hate being lied on.“

Even though you didn’t lie at all to her and just wanted a innocent moment with her without thinking about your own movements and what they would cause, you felt excited to see what she will do to you so you just played along with her. Telling her you didn’t do it on purpose won’t work on Jinx anyways if she is stuck in her own mindset. That’s what you learned about her very fast.

„Mhh…so you wanna put your little brat in her place?“ You just went along with the little game, not knowing what it would cause. „So? You’re so confident aren’t you? Let me fuck that confidence out of you then.“ She said with a husky voice, sitting up to remove her pants to let her hard cock free. Before you could react she grabbed you by your hair, making you sit up and shoved her cock inside of your mouth. „That’s it…use that bratty mouth on me.“ Jinx groaned as she moved her hips, letting her cock slide down your throat, making you gag a little bit on it. You tried your best to please her, letting her go all in and as fast as she wanted, your tongue swirling around her cock, hands placed on her hips to keep you up.

When she had the feeling she shut you up enough, only hearing your muffled moans and looking into your teary eyes, she decided to pull on your hair as she made you lean back a little, her cock and your mouth being connected by a string of your saliva as you looked at her beautiful pink eyes glowing of excitement. „That’s my good girl…I am not planning on giving you the pleasure to swallow it this time. I‘d rather want to make a mess out if you. Brats do deserve that.“ Her smirk was very evil, you knew that look on her face. She really meant what she said.

Jinx removed your pants and panties as well along with your shirt, wanting to have you fully exposed to her, smirking playfully as she gazed down at you, spreading your legs to see you being dripping wet for her. Your own hands move to your breasts, wanting to touch yourself but Jinx didn’t like that idea, giving you a little slap on your wet pussy which made you whine out loudly, whimpering after. „No touching. I am gonna touch you, your hands better stay away if you don’t want me to slap you again.“ She commanded you before adjusting herself properly between your legs, moving her cock inside of you deeply without a warning, making you moan out. „Ah! Fuck Jinx!“

Jinx only smirked playfully at your reaction. „Didn’t I tell you I will fuck the brat out of you?“ She didn’t wait for you to get used to her size as she started thrusting her hips inside of you, both of you ending up being a moaning mess, your tummy making a little bulge each time she thrusted into you made her know she was just hitting the right spot. Her eyes started glowing a lot again, a sign that showed whenever she used her shimmer which made her thrust into you in a inhuman speed, making you moan uncontrollably as your legs clenched around her, reaching your orgasm as your juices spilled all over her cock.

Jinx didn’t think of stopping yet, throwing her head back as she moaned out loudly, little strings of pink light following her eyds as she moved her head back. „J-Jinx! Stop!…I-I can’t-…ahh!“ You try to beg her to stop feeling overstimulated, not even able to form proper words, your whimpering moans cutting of your words. Jinx loved everything about this, looking down at you with such a needy gaze, you were wondering how she could keep herself from cumming.

„Naw…I am sure you can baby. You are my good girl. You can take it.“ She encouraged you, still pounding into you hard and fast, filling up the room with lewd wet sounds. Your juices helping her to slide in even more easier. „Hnng! You are so good for me, taking my punishment so good huh? Yes that’s it, good girl, my good girl.“ She groaned in between her moaning, biting her lower lip, a sign she was close and so were you, cumming again with a whine, your legs trembling underneath her, arching your back, tears of pleasure running down your eyes and finally Jinx reached her high as well, pulling out to cum on your lower tummy, making a mess out of you. „God…so sexy for me…“ She mumbled under her breath, jerking herself off on you before she leaned down, running her tongue along your wet folds, tasting your juices mixed together, feeling you twitch when her tongue reached your clit.

Jinx was satisfied for now, seeing you all done as you are still not ready to form words, being out of breath. „Next time don’t be so bratty and I will cum inside you instead~“ She said with her usual playful voice like she didn’t just dominate you and fucked you breathless.

She positioned herself back beside you, pulling you close to her chest as she began to be her soft, loving self again towards you, whispering so softly to you. „You’re mine, remember that.“ You just nod, feeling your body already feeling sore and she knew that, keeping you close to her until you both eventually fall asleep in each others arms.

[petermorwood]

This is excellent advice for the treatment (or apparent maltreatment, in linen's case) of natural fabrics.

Here's some additional info based on personal experience over many decades and numerous ways of doing laundry from ancient (well, early 1960s) to modern.

Wool. A splendid outer layer, since rain sits on rather than soaks in, but needs care when washing, and even more when drying. Don't wash a woollen garment on Hot, and definitely don't dry it that way. If you do, your favourite woolly pully will shrink to something for a child, and a child's woolly pully into something for a doll. I have done this, and it was not well appreciated except, way way back, by my small sister and presumably by her nattily pullovered favourite doll.

Cotton. Will indeed shrink a bit after washing and drying, but fortunately will stretch again during wear. Can be washed very hot to get rid of Those Annoying Stains, and by Very Hot I mean boiled. It'll still stretch back - eventually - and although sometimes uncomfortably snug during the stretching process, will nevertheless be nice and clean.

Silk. Usually expensive, so accordingly laundered with probably more care than it needs, since this is a fabric once used (in many layers, granted) as armour. Does Not Chafe, which is why it was worn as scarves by fighter pilots who had to keep turning their heads in case of The Hun In The Sun. "Silk hiding steel" is appropriate, because a lady with a Hermés (not "an 'ermes", you pronounce the H) silk scarf and something to weigh it with is not as unarmed as she seems.

Linen. The 600lb gorilla of the fabric world, only bettered by hemp. Can have a weave tight enough to carry water without dripping - especially after the weave soaks and swells - and a tensile strength enough to carry pounds and kilos of it. (You can still buy collapsible "canvas" - usually linen or hemp - buckets...) @dduane and I inherited a lot of Irish Linen from my Mum, some still in original boxes with original washing instructions. Those instructions were, more or less, "rub soap into stubborn stains, scrub thoroughly and boil until clean".

Where linen and hemp fabrics are concerned...

*****

Even though she had a succession of increasingly modern washing machines, Mum also had and occasionally used - or more accurately supervised my use of - some quite old-fashioned laundry equipment.

Linens with stubborn stains were indeed scrubbed thoroughly, using a block of hard soap then a washboard, and an impressive abs workout it was...

Then the scrubbed stuff was boil-washed in Mum's washing machine (which could reach a genuine 100°C rolling boil) before being rinsed, passed through the mangle (or wringer, more in this post) and pegged out on the washing-line to dry.

*****

As i hunted up illustrations I (re-)discovered a Terry Pratchett Discworld connection. Remember the "copper stick" used by Granny and Nanny to summon the demon in "Wyrd Sisters"?

"What are you going to try?" said Granny. Since they were on Nanny's territory, the choice was entirely up to her. "I always say you can't go wrong with a good Invocation," said Nanny. "Haven't done one for years." Granny Weatherwax frowned. Magrat said, "Oh, but you can't. Not here. You need a cauldron, and a magic sword. And an octogram. And spices, and all sorts of stuff." Granny and Nanny exchanged glances. "It's not her fault," said Granny. "It's all them grimmers she was bought." She turned to Magrat. "You don't need none of that," she said. "You need headology." She looked around the ancient washroom. "You just use whatever you've got," she said. She picked up the bleached copper stick, and weighed it thoughtfully in her hand. "We conjure and abjure thee by means of this—" Granny hardly paused – "sharp and terrible copper stick."

It's one of these, not made OF copper but meant for use IN a copper.

Mum had one, originally Granny's, which kept getting pinched to play the role of sword, baton or whatever, though its official purpose was to stir, untangle and finally remove laundry which had been boiled in a "laundry copper":

This one shows how it straddled two gas jets, but Nanny Ogg's copper had a fireplace space under the actual cauldron (though in summer she used it as a beer cooler).

These cauldrons were still called "coppers" even when more cheaply made of iron. It's another instance of how vacuum cleaners became "hoovers" and sticking-plasters became "band-aids" etc., etc., no matter what brand they really were.

"Boil", however, wasn't a figurative term. It meant what it said, and those thoroughly scrubbed linens (cottons, too) would bubble merrily for quite a while "until clean".

Coppers were also used for cooking, with perhaps the most famous literary instance being chez Cratchit in "A Christmas Carol":

“A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastry-cook’s next door to each other, with a laundress’s next door to that! That was the pudding!"

Mum initially had a separate electric boiler - IIRC it was Burco brand, which still makes much smaller boilers for catering, though ours was never used for anything except laundry - but mostly I remember the boil being done in her washing machine.

More modern machines only go to 90-95°C, sometimes just 60°C, but when her Hoover was running at full belt, things got as lively as any pot on a hob even before the agitator started churning. Never mind closing its lid to avoid mess, when a boil-wash was taking place that lid was also a needful safety precaution against scalding splashes.

*****

Removal by copper stick was superseded by use of tongs, and Mum had a set just like these...

...though I don't think hers had such an apt name.

Stirring with the copper stick was replaced by washing with a posser, which pumped up and down, or a washing dolly, which rotated.

Both actions have been replicated by washing-machines, and though variants of the dolly rotation became almost standard in tub washers, the posser did appear in an early 20th-century hand-operated machine...

...as well as the Frigidaire "Jet Cone" washer...

...whose action, TBH, reminds me of certain non-laundry gadgets I saw many years ago in The Pleasure Chest on Santa Monica... :-P

Modernised possers or even original designs are still available today.

*****

Whenever you read in stories about avoiding trouble with laundresses, those devices along with scrubbing, wringing out and cranking mangles are why. Regular workouts with laundry equipment gave them the sort of muscles nobody wanted to provoke.

*****

I've already mentioned "A Christmas Carol" and, given the time of year (posted 22nd December 2024) this ought to end with another one, so...

As shepherds washed their socks by night, All seated round the tub, A bar of Sunlight soap came down And they began to scrub...

You're welcome.

:->

Here, a cheater course on caring for natural fibers!

1. Wool. Treat it like it has the delicate constitution of a Victorian lady and the conviction that baths are evil of a 17th century noble. (If I get in WATER my PORES will OPEN and I will CATCH ILL AND DIE.)

2. Cotton; easygoing. Will shrink a bit if washed and dried hot.

3. Silk; people think it’s like wool and has the constitution of a fashionably dying of consumption Victorian lady, but actually it’s quite tough. Can be washed in an ordinary washer, and either tumbled dry without heat or hung to dry.

4. Linen; it doesn’t give a shit. Beat the hell out of it. Historically was laundered by dousing it in lye and beating the shit out of it with wooden paddles, which only makes it look better. The masochist of the natural fiber world. Beat the fuck out of it linen doesn’t care. Considerably stronger than cotton. Linen sheet sets can last literal decades in more or less pristine shape because of that strength.The most likely natural fiber to own a ball gag.

[shrimpybbq]

thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that

this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,

“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”

“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”

rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.

“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.

“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“

rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.

“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.

“No, but-”

“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”

rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),

“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”

rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,

“Feeling better, baby?”

she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.

“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”

rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.

[crimsoncandy04]

omg love ur writing in the scaramouche tag and was wondering if i could place a request because i thought of scaramouche with a stubborn reader who refuses to submit to him so he punishes her via fucking machine until shes broken down and begging for him... its just some brainworms of mine

*scuttles out from underneath your bed and gently tucks my response underneath your pillow before returning to my nest*

Marry Christmas ya filthy animals lmao

(Hehe. I've been excited to write this)

(Bondage Scaramouche!)

You sigh softly as the gentle hum of the large vibrators fill your ears. Your wrists are handcuffed to a wall behind you on either side of your head. a locked metal chastity belt prevented the painfully enormous insertions from slipping out of your ass and cunt. This had been HIS sick way of punishing you for spitting in his face yesterday when he originally had tried to kiss you.

Scaramouche.

The fucking Balladeer.

You hated that self absorbed and condescending humanoid bastard but unfortunately for you, he had grown attracted to you.

He had wanted you.

And he had gotten you.

It was as simple as that. Or was it?

"Enjoying yourself?" A cold voice suddenly sneered from somewhere in front of you. You knew even through the blindfold that it was him. As if you could ever get off from something as disgusting and evil as what this sociopathic harbinger had done to you. Grabbing you. Pinning you to the ground beneath him as he had attempted to press his lips to yours.

He was lucky you didn't bite his tongue off instead of just spitting at him.

"Fuck you!" You hiss through your teeth. Your body is still trembling from the unwanted orgasms you were experiencing. You could hear the keys to your belt jingling from somewhere on him.

"Is that right now sweetheart? Finally come to your senses?" He reached out and ran a gloved hand across your cheek.

"Absolutely not you disgusting bastard! You know what I meant!"

A silence follows as you feel him pull away from you.

Then you feel a sharp sting in your neck.

"Ah! What the hell are you doing!? Stop!"

"You can't say I haven't been nice. I thought you would have seen reason by now but it appears your stubborn attitude will need correction first." He whispers in your ear. His cool breath sending shivers down your spine.

"This should make you a little more agreeable you ungrateful little cockroach."

You start to feel hot suddenly. You want to scream as you hear him still kneeling in front of you. Yet as you hear the click of a button being pressed and the vibrators deep in your holes start to move faster than before, you can't do anything but gasp suddenly and try in vain to close your knees and ignore the way your body quickly begins to tingle.

"I hate you! I won't... Ngh~" you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Whatever Scaramouche had injected you with was causing you to lose your composure fast. And also...become unbelievably overwhelmed with lust.

"Does it feel good? You like the way my toys are fucking that tight little cunt of yours?" He purrs as you feel him spread your knees apart and move to kneel between them. Scaramouche reaches out and pinches one of your nipples. Tugging on the sensitive peak ever so slightly as you squirm and writhe.

"You know, if you stop acting like such a pain in the ass, I could make it all better. Make the uncomfortable feeling in your body go away. Make you want me." You feel him lean in. His lips graze yours as he whispers.

"Why don't we try that kiss again hmm? This time, if you know what's good for you, you won't pull any more foolish stunts."

Before you can respond in any way, Scaramouche's lips are on yours. He moves his free hand to play with your hair as he continues to fondle your breast with the other. After a few seconds he shoves his tongue into your mouth and for a moment you almost falter. You want nothing more than to moan and cry and scream for this man to touch you. To fuck you. But as you suddenly jerk your head away and curse him under your breath, you come back to your right mind and immediately feel violated and enraged over what this lowly bastard is trying to do.

"No! How dare you! Don't touch me!"

You hear him get back to his feet. Feel his sharp and sadistic gaze on you as you are forced to cum again thanks to the toys buried in you still.

"You don't want me to lay my hands on you?" Scaramouche asks in a sinister tone. He chuckles softly.

"Well then, have it your way dear."

You try to kick as you feel him suddenly move close to you again and prick your neck a second time. But he's too fast and far too strong for any normal human to be able to apprehend on their own. And as you feel the new medicine quickly coarse through your veins and cause you to feel drowsy, you swear you hear Scaramouche laughing again and the sound of keys jingling.

You open your eyes sometime later and feel your wrists and head aching. You lift your head as best as you can in your semi-conscious state and realize that you're just dangling from the ceiling with your feet about a foot from the tatami floor beneath you. Your wrists are bound together by a red rope that is attached to a thick wooden rafter high above you. And to make things possibly even more humiliating, one of the ropes was tied carefully through your long hair and was tethered to something in your ass that caused your scalp and asshole to ache every time you tried to move your head or lower body. It was all so uncomfortable and yet you couldn't even adjust yourself without feeling your wrists burn or your hair getting yanked.

"you're finally awake. I was hoping you hadn't gone and died on me before we even got to the best part yet."

Scaramouche strode over to where you were hanging and reached out to feel your wetness. His long slender fingers easily slid into your sopping cunt and began to move. Wiggling around inside and teasing you before he abruptly removes them entirely. Leaving you irritated and slightly disappointed that he had left your aching sex empty again despite how aroused you still were from the earlier injection.

Scaramouche brings his fingers to his lips and grins mischievously as he licks them clean, commenting on how nice you taste as he watches a light blush form on your face.

"What an interesting expression. You want me to play with your cute little pussy more? Too bad. Don't blame me though. I'm simply giving you what you wanted. You don't want me to touch you. Remember?"

You felt burning hot anger suddenly rise within you. He wanted this.

That vile bastard wanted you to beg for him and plead for him to fuck you.

Archons, was he so grossly full of himself.

You grit your teeth and force yourself to glare at Scaramouche as you now struggle to fight the intense and overwhelming feeling of lust that plagued every inch of your hot feeling and quivering form.

"You won't break me you sick fucker!"

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow at your words.

"You think so huh? Well, let's just see."

He moves fast. Too fast.

One second he was standing in front of you and then you blinked and now he was behind you. You heard something big being placed just behind you. Mere inches from your throbbing sex as you hear Scaramouche comment about how he's going to enjoy watching you lose yourself after this and before you can figure out what he's planning, suddenly the sound of a machine buzzing to life fills your ears. Seconds after a thick dildo suddenly forces itself deep into your pussy and begins thrusting. Slowly at first, but after a few seconds it gets faster. You feel the silicone tip pound against your cervix. The thickness fills every inch of you and stretches your pussy to its limit. Making you shudder and finally...moan.

It was accidentally. You immediately regretted it.

But Scaramouche had heard it.

"Oh? Enjoying this are you? You seem to like my toys a lot huh?" You feel him rub his hand across your ass cheek and then squeeze a little.

"What if I were to remove this hook and fill your fat ass with something particularly large instead? Like the one in your cunt. Would you moan? Cry? Beg for more? Or would you continue with this annoying attitude of yours and let me ruin your perfect little holes in the process?"

Scaramouche suddenly slaps your ass hard. Making you whimper a little as you try to close your eyes and regain control. But as you try, suddenly another painful slap stops you.

He continues to spank you several more times before pausing and caressing your sore cheeks with his hands again. After that he began again. Your ass hurt, your pussy clenched and fluttered around the dildo as it thrust in and out of your oversensitive cunt, as the sensation of both pain and pleasure overwhelmed your senses, suddenly you gasp and let out a small whine as you feel yourself squirt.

Scaramouche laughs a little as he finally moves from behind you after that. Staring at you with a smug expression as you go limp while still being fucked by the machine behind you.

"That was quick. Clearly someone enjoyed themselves." He places his hands on either side of your face. The gesture is oddly gentle.

"Just relax. Stop fighting me. I don't want to punish you. It gets boring after a while. But if you continue to defy me, I won't hesitate to remind you of your place." One of his thumbs rubs a tear from your cheek that you weren't even aware had fallen.

"If you give in now, I can make you feel better than any mortal ever could. Don't you want that little bug? Humans like feeling good. Doesn't this all feel uncomfortable? Humiliating? I can make it stop if you just quit resisting." His touch was softer. But Scaramouche had no affection behind those indigo eyes of his as he gazed at you intensely.

You just gave him a look of reluctance as another small moan was forced out of you.

"Looks like you still need some convincing." He lets go of your face and suddenly reaches into the small pouch near his waist to retrieve a small remote. He smirks as he pushes a button and suddenly makes the dildo in your pussy begin to vibrate. He then increases the intensity. Your legs begin to shake as you finally stop trying to stay quiet.

It's too much.

"Fuck! It's hitting so deep! Scaramouche... I can't!" You try to wiggle your hips a little but the hook in your ass suddenly yanks on your hair again and you struggle to remain still.

You just...need more. You need to cum. You can't take this anymore.

Scaramouche unties his belt as he watches the machine continue to ravage you. It drops to the floor and after that you watch as he tugs down his shorts a little and reaches for his cock. He starts jerking off to the sight of you and even presses another button on the remote with his free hand that makes the dildo piston in and out faster.

"If it's too much. Just ask for me instead. Give in. And I'll make it stop." He leans in and kisses you again as he gets off to you. Swallowing your moans and sounds of pleasure as you feel yourself cum again. Finally as you feel another overwhelming wave of pleasure and swear the room sways a little around you as scara backs away, you finally give up.

"Scaramouche please fuck me. I can't stand this anymore! I want...i want your cock in me."

"Are you sure? You don't sound like you do. Maybe if you convince me I'll oblige."

Gods no.

He was making you beg.

You lowered your gaze as you felt your pride wither.

"Please Scaramouche, I don't want this fake cock in me. I want your dick. Please fuck me. Please...i need your big cock in my pussy!"

You don't even realize you're cut free from your binds after you finish pleading until you feel yourself hit the floor.

And feel Scaramouche grabbing your ass from behind.

"Who am I to deny such a needy girl? If you insist then I'll fuck you stupid you pitiful little worm."

He roughly shoves himself into your throbbing core to the hilt. Digging his nails into your hips before fucking hard into you. His movements are quick too. Scarily quick.

You feel yourself turn to jelly in his hold as he slams into your g spot and makes you squeal. You cry out as you feel yourself climax violently and yet he doesn't stop.

You don't want him too either.

"Scaramouche you feel amazing!" You gasp as you feel him reach for a tit and squeeze. His finger teasing the nipple.

"I know sweetheart. Just keep taking it. You feel so tight. Just like I knew you would." He groans before leaning down and wrapping his arms around your middle. Fucking you fast enough to make you scream as you feel yourself squirt again on his thick shaft.

"Fuck I'm gonna keep you. This cunt of yours is perfect." You hear the sound of electro before you feel it as Scaramouche suddenly tightens his hold on you and ejaculates.

A powerful jolt is sent deep into your womb and makes you climax again instantly. You feel a small lingering tingle in your belly and as Scaramouche releases you, you turn over slightly and notice that a strange mark has formed on your lower abdomen. It glows to life as Scaramouche rubs his cock against your slit and after that you feel yourself get excited again despite being beyond exhausted.

You hear him hum a little as he slowly slips into you once more.

"Don't worry about that my little insect. This just shows that you're mine and prevents you from enjoying anyone else. It has some special properties that will affect you but nothing unpleasant."

He begins to thrust again.

"After this, all I need is to knock you up. Shouldn't be too hard now that I gave you that. Then you'll be by my side forever. My pretty little toy~"

You can only feel pleasure as Scaramouche begins to use your pussy again. Deep in the back of your mind there's a small nagging feeling that this is wrong. But how could it be when everything about it just felt so right?

[multipleoccupancy]

"Every night," Theo smiled back at her, knowing he had shown he was unconvinced but he was glad of the change of topic, there were more pressing worried than Violet for now. "You can look after yourself, I just don't like the idea of bait." It was all they had though and he and Sloane could make sure nothing happened to her, Violet too from her vantage point. He could see she was worried and in some way it helped, it meant she would be careful out there.

Oh yeah, the bears. Theo looked at her worriedly for a moment, is seemed like she was constantly in danger if she was here and then when she went home she had to deal with bears! Of course in his mind the situation was much worse than it actually was and he imagined her having to deal with bears on a daily occurrence. "You should use it if you have to you know. You're right it's better off with you." He agreed, at least in New York there were just the stray pets, rats and occasional parrot. "You can, you know, have it if you want?" He'd relinquish it if it meant she could be spared from the bears at home too!

"I am not sure I have a favourite," Sloane mused as they walked though he was clearly thinking hard about it. "I have used so many but I suppose the best one might have been the pilot." He concluded, inadvertently revealing that he and thus other Sloanes could get into the cockpits of planes if they deemed it necessary.

Ah! It sounded like the HR role was no walk in the park, he supposed not every cell was like theirs and well, Samantha could really put her foot down if she decided to. "It probably is," he at least admitted for it being a harder role but he was even more pleased that Killian and Samantha were in touch too and he assumed that he was much the same as them.

"Astrid," he acknowledged with a smile and a nod before gently but encouragingly patting her on the shoulder. "You'll do great, let's go." He instructed and then opened the door to the office. Beyond it there was an empty reception area and then a small plastic screen where a young man was sat typing away on a computer, pausing to look at them both as the door opened. "Good evening," Sloane greeted as he fumbled around a little as if trying to find his wallet, sounding a little more exasperated than he had just done and as if he was a frazzled single dad in a 'pickle', "Come on in to talk to the nice man, Astrid." He smiled at her encouragingly, so very much as if he was indeed her father.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Samantha could tell that her words had not really appeased Killian's worries. She knew him far too well not to notice. But she wasn't sure that anything she could say would comfort him when it came to Violet's presence here, and all it could entail for them. So, she just offered him a warm smile and dropped the subject. "Just tonight?" she teased, trying to hide her own worries behind a joke.

"That's true, I can't," she admitted patiently, "but I can hide the crossbow in the trunk of my car. My dad never uses it anyway. And if he does somehow find it, I'll tell him I bought it to fend off bears. People in my town have all sorts of guns to protect themselves against bears, a crossbow won't be too unusual." A little bit unusual, sure. But she wouldn't be grounded for it. She glanced at Killian, hoping the mention of bears would convince him.

"What's your favorite disguise?" asked Violet. She did chuckle when he mentioned how well he decorated his house for Halloween, though there was a sadness in her eyes. Her heart broke just a little bit at the thought that all of this, his house, his family, the little traditions they had... would one day go up in flames. Literally and figuratively.

Unaware that she had relieved Sloane of a great worry, she nodded at his question. "My dad says it's probably more scary than being on the field," she joked, though she didn't know just how unhinged Delta Green agents could be.

She stopped next to Sloane. "Oh- Astrid, my name is Astrid," she whispered, in case anyone could hear them on the other side of the door. The prospect of calling him "Dad" was daunting. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, she felt like she had swallowed a handful of sawdust. "Yes, I remember."

[thezombieprostitute]

Dr. Studmuffin

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: new years kiss with a stranger

Warnings: Drugs used in a medical setting, Emergency room setting, Ex-boyfriend angst, Physical injuries. Please let me know if I missed any.

You're in tears, and not just from the pain. This was supposed to be your comeback. Your personal revolution. New Year's was a time for renewal and remaking yourself. You were going to prove to everyone, especially Bryce, that you didn't need him. That you could stand proud on your own two feet.

You'd splurged on the clothes, finding ones that not only fit you like a second skin, but that made all your best features pop. You got your hair done by a professional, even adding some highlights that would match the dress and your makeup choices. Every time you looked in the mirror you knew you were killing it! This was going to be your night. Your year!

And then you tripped on your too-high heels and likely broke your ankle.

It took everyone at the party several minutes to stop laughing. You're certain Bryce is still laughing about it. No one wanted to give you a lift to the emergency room so you had to call yourself an ambulance. Thankfully the paramedics were nice enough. Especially after the pain meds kicked in and you went from uncontrollably sad to uncontrollably sad and loopy.

You hated being loopy. You just couldn't stop talking and you inevitably said too much. Doesn't matter you primarily apologized for things that weren't your fault and made it rain compliments, you still talked nonstop and would eventually be called annoying. Thankfully the redheaded nurse taking care of you didn't seem to mind every time you repeated how pretty you thought she was. She actually was pretty good at assuaging the worst of your fears.

And then he showed up.

The first time you laid eyes on the ER doctor you blurted out, "well hello, Dr. Studmuffin!" You slapped your hands over your mouth, face burning with embarrassment. Apparently he felt it too with how pink his cheeks got.

"I see Natasha wasn't exaggerating," he chuckles as he rubs on some hand sanitizer.

"I am so sorry, doctor! I know that was very disrespectful. I mean, it's not disrespectful to call you handsome, because you really are. But it's wrong time, wrong place, right? Plus, you're a doctor! You've gotta be super smart for that! So reducing you to Dr. Studmuffin just feels so inadequate. I'm---"

He raises a hand to stop you from talking. His cheeks are still blushing but his smile is, thankfully, gentle instead of condescending or egotistical. He puts on some gloves and walks to your heavily bruised ankle. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I tripped on my shoes," you explain. Tears start to form as the embarrassing memory comes back. "I tripped in front of everyone and they just laughed and didn't try to help me and I was just trying to be better! Trying to improve myself and stand on my own without my ex and then I tripped and fell, right in front of him!"

The doctor grabs some of the tissues from the table nearby and gently wipes the tears from your face.

"The notes from the paramedics say that you had to call them yourself? No one tried to help?"

You nod, a fresh flow of tears starting. "It was supposed to be my night to remake myself. My night to be...to be not me. To be bold, daring, and kiss a stranger at midnight. But instead, here I am with...Can you please tell me your name so I might stop calling you Dr. Studmuffin?"

"I'm Dr. Rogers, but you can call me Steve."

"Thank you, Steve."

"I'm gonna examine your ankle now. I need you to tell me if, when something hurts, okay?" You nod your understanding.

After several squeaks and hisses in pain with explanations as to the type of pain he tells you it's likely a minor fracture but he's going to have to get some x-rays to confirm that.

You sigh, "I was supposed to be drinking champagne and, instead, I'll greet the new year with a dose of radiation." The tears start forming again. "Maybe they were right about how much of a loser I am."

Steve's jaw clenches and he gently lifts your chin, wiping away the tears with another tissue. "Don't do that. Don't let the bullies win. If you do that, they just get worse." He sees the confusion on your face and continues, "I don't like bullies. I got bullied pretty much my whole life."

"Who'd bully a Studmuffin like you?" you blurt.

He chuckles. "I wasn't always built like this. Used to be super scrawny."

"Aww! I bet you were so cute!"

That alone would make his cheeks burn but then Natasha walks in, "Dr. Studmuffin, you're needed in room 32." He gives her a glare but she just smiles back. He sighs, knowing he's never going to hear the end of it.

"Okay, she needs some x-rays and can you make sure Mace is her Radiologist? He'll probably have the most patience for her loopy state."

"Oh, yes, please let me have someone patient!" you exclaim. "I cannot be trusted not to annoy someone right now!"

Natasha smiles at you, "don't worry. I'll make sure you're in good hands."

After Steve catches a few moments to breathe, he looks around to see if you're back from getting your ankle x-ray. He's disappointed to see you're not back yet.

"Don't worry, Dr. Studmuffin," Nat teases. "She'll be back soon enough."

Steve's face goes pink. "I just wanted to do a follow up is all."

"You know you can't lie to me," she smiles. "She's someone who was trying to pull herself together, indicating personal strength. She cooed when you told her you were a scrawny kid, indicating a lack of shallowness on her part. And, I know you saw her chart. She's a chemist, so she's likely highly intelligent. She's exactly your kind of girl."

"She doesn't actually find me attractive," Steve counters. "It's just a bit of Nightingale Syndrome."

Nat laughs uncontrollably for a minute. "Steve, that's when the medical caretaker has a thing for the patient. Not the other way around."

Steve's face goes completely red as he realizes his slip up.

"I'll make sure you're on break around midnight so you can give the lovely lady that kiss with a stranger she was looking for," Nat winks before heading off to another patient.

Your back in your room, wallowing in misery as you look at the time. So close to midnight. You know your "friends" are having a blast. Likely still laughing about you. And here you are, alone and miserable.

Dr. Studmuffin, Steve, you internally correct yourself, comes in.

As he rubs his hands with sanitizer he says, "good news. While it is a partial fracture in the bone, your tendons and ligaments are unharmed. That'll make the healing process a lot easier on you." You nod glumly and he checks his watch. "I'm actually going on break here in a little bit, just in time for midnight. I...I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to greet the New Year with me?"

Your eyes widen in shock. "You...you want me...you want to kiss me for New Year's?"

"Only if you'd like that," he's quick to assure. "Stick it to those bullies, get a kiss with a stranger, and all that?"

"Yes, please!"

He checks his watch again, "and with that, I'm on my break." He turns on the TV. It's muted but you can still see the countdown.

When the clock hits zero, he leans in for a kiss. Still loopy from the pain meds you wrap your arms around his head and pull him in for a deep kiss, catching him off guard, but making him smile.

Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad year for either of you.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[rensukepie]

all i want for christmas is…

oliver aiku x reader

all you wanna come back to after a bad day is your loving boyfriend aiku.

contains : smut, p in v, breeding kink, spit, cunnilingus, very lovey dovey aiku, romantic aiku, kissing (a lot of it…), established relationship, touchy aiku, reader is sad and aiku comforts her :3

a/n : this was inspired by @aikuposer ‘s post!

minors dni

it was always him.

he’s the first person, and the only person you see when you come back from a shitty work day, the person you go over the grocery list with, the person who sees you cry, he’s the person you love. no matter the situation, it would always be him.

so when you come home from work during the christmas shopping season with puffy eyes and tears all over your cheeks, he’s worried sick!

….

“I-i didn’t mean to make her upset… she wasn’t clear about what she wanted…” you say in between sniffles with your voice cracking because of the heavy lump caught up in your throat.

“oh sweet girl… it’s okay, don’t cry… im here for you, that lady’s so stupid for that! she should’ve been more clear about what she was trying to get for her kid...” he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, pulling you into a long hug.

“k-kiss me aiku… please… i missed you…”

and he does. his soft lifts against yours, his hands roaming your hips.

“gonna make you feel better, yeah? you’ll let me? hate to see my girl all sad…”

….

he kisses you a little bit more on your lips again before moving more down to kiss the other areas of your body, his hands intertwined with yours.

he finds your inner thigh, kissing it some more before undressing you, you clothed cunt on display for him.

normally, he’d start teasing you for the damp spot in the middle, but today was special, filled with love for you, words of reassurance aimed at you.

he kisses your clothed cunt one last time before taking your panties off, spitting on your soaked pussy before licking your clit with his skilled tongue.

“a..aiku! you’re so messy… fffuck!”

“sorry.. can’t help myself around you… you’re too pretty…”

….

“mmf—! a…aiku…faster….please…”

he picks up the pace just a little, but enough to have you whimpering a little louder, hands playing with his hair softly.

“you taste so good, my pretty… so beautiful..”

“g-gonna cum soon… mm.. aiku…”

“cum on my tongue for me baby… don’t gotta ask… just let go..”

….

he kisses you again, tasting yourself on your tongue before he undresses himself.

aiku rubs his cock back and fourth on your wet cunt to lube it up before entering inside of you, making you let out a couple of whimpers and moans all for him.

“mm…! aiku….”

he takes your whimper as a sign and finally puts his cock inside of your tight pussy, a deep groan leaving his mouth at the feeling.

“your pussy was made for my cock.. fuck—…”

….

he continues to thrust himself into you with your legs wrapped around his waist reaching to his muscular back. he can feel himself getting closer to the edge along with you.

“gonna fill your pussy with all my cum… you want that, hm?”

“mhm… want your cum aiku…. pleaseeee…” you say desperately, nibbling on his neck.

he takes his thumb and uses it to rub your sensitive clit, making you clench around his cock.

“shit—! gonna cum in you, doll… ohh fuckk—“

you cum right after him again and he pulls out, his cum dripping out of you.

“I love you, aiku…thank you for making me feel better…”

“I love you too baby, but we should shower… we look like a mess..”

….

he prepares a nice warm bath for the both of you with your favorite body wash and shampoo. who knows, maybe he’ll fill you with his cum nice and deep inside of you again?

…

[neonovember]

This is an idea that’s been on my mind lately because Carmy would be so protective and would 100% treat his gf like a princess, so I thought I’d send it in ifs it’s okay!!🤧

Can I please request Carmy x fem!reader where it’s based off the song “Treat You Better”, where she’s one of his chefs, and Carmy has a biiiig soft spot for her, like soft smiles, hand on the small of her back. Y/n is veryyyy soft spoken and quiet, a very stark contrast to the rest of The Beef/The Bear staff. The staff absolutely love her and are super protective of her: She’s best friends with Sydney (also she’s around the same age as Syd, early 20s), Tina sees her as a daughter, Marcus is always trying to make her laugh and asks her to try his pastries, Richie is more gentle with her than he is with everyone else, Ebra has a calmness around Y/n, Sugar (when she stops by) loves treating Y/n like the little sister she never had, and Carmy… Carmy is head over heels for Y/n. He’s so soft and gentle with her, never raising his voice at her in the kitchen, and he always has the cutest nicknames for her🤧. However… Y/n has a boyfriend, they all know it, and they all share an extreme dislike for him. He’s not very nice, and it all goes to a boiling point when they spot bruises, Y/n letting her hair fall over her face.🥺 Tina and Sydney probably noticing right as she walks in one morning, then the rest of the staff noticing too, the whole kitchen getting eerily quiet, Carmy pulling her aside to his office to talk to her, holding Y/n in his arms while she cries🥺 Carmy 100% taking his bat and beating the crap out of her bf… Now ex, and he offers for Y/n to stay with him because she has nowhere to go? Their relationship growing after that? Y/n kissing him one day, shook at herself, but he kisses her back?

July in November

carmen berzatto x fem! reader

warnings: heavy domestic abuse, controlling fiance, swearing, violence, carmen goes gives absolute no regard for felonies, (assumed) unrequited love, self deprecation, victim blaming

a/n: this entire fic is just time skips l swear, I've written something similar here as well if you liked this which i hope you did! dv is a heavy subject, and not something to trivialise. if you or someone you know is going through dv, please reach out x

banner from @firefly-graphics

The streaks of concealer do little to hide the bloom of dark purples and blues.

They stretch out, clawing up your side and past your ribs, shades of overlapping blotched bruises that were not yet healed.

You were a chef trained in Oslo for god sake, you had friends and family who loved you- and you let out a laugh when the words come out pathetic and dull. 

You were right where he left you.

You suppose from the continuous uphill of your career, the exhaustion had made it easier to just sit still, let it happen. He had proposed and you had said yes unblinking. It was what he told the countless people at dinner parties he dragged you to in attendance, 

“I had finally beat her down enough to finally fall in love with me” He smiled, his eyes shining and his grip on your waist bruising as the people smiled and laughed and you swallowed back his irony.

The cycles of abuse had started before you could truly remember, bouts of angry yelling before the hot dull beat of pain. And he was so kind after, so thoughtful and apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed and his touch gentle as he leaned over you.

Were you still a victim, if you wanted to stay just for the after?

You shake your head, slowly blinking at the reflection of your bloated torso. Peeling away your shirt gently before buttoning up one of your work shirts instead.

Your heart settled when you thought of the Bear. It was your haven, Richie’s rambled drivel, Sugar hovering every so near, Carmen with his eyes and his inked hands and his sweet mouth. It wrapped around you more tightly than those bruises ever could.

You look over to watch your fiancé, fast asleep content with a full stomach and tired fists. He was so vulnerable like that, and the feeling of anger unfurls in your gut. For once, just one time you wanted him to feel it, that gut wrenching frightened feeling.

You look over to the stone doorstep near his desk, the stupid thing that he had revered at one of his art conventions that was left keeping the door open. You wonder, just for a second, what it would feel like to lean over him with it between your hands, waiting for the slight blink of his eyes that clear away the sleep. 

Watch the fear melt into them, and smashing his fucking face with it.

You breathe deeply, arranging your hair so it is out of your face, flattening out the creases in your shit and avoiding your stomach as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“Where are you going” 

You blink, hands gripping your work bag as his voice bellows “Work”

“Huh. We need to sort that out soon”

You stopped, closing your eyes as you fiddled with the loose threads from the shoulder strap. You knew this conversation, where he would bring up another thing in your life he wanted to talk about, as if your relationship was built on a solid base of understanding and conversation. You would wait until his voice would ripen with jealousy and rage, where thinly veiled inquisition would fall away and reveal what he truly wanted. 

You had given him enough of your life, let him change and control it. But you would soon let yourself be buried then let him take this too from you. No fucking way.

“Sure”

You pass by the door, pushing the stone to the side. It wasn’t heavy at all.

It’s when you enter the back door of the Bear do you realise you’ve spent your whole commute over holding your breath.

The smells of sauces and expensive meats lulls your anxiety into a mummering tremble, and you sigh softly to yourself as you sling your bag into your locker.

You can already hear Richie arguing, and the tired voice of Carmen biting back and you want to slap yourself for all the times you had grown annoyed at them. What you would give to hear them always, to feel this level of safety and comfort without the overhanging timer of when you would eventually have to leave.

You nod towards Sydney, carrying a large tray of roasted pecans over to Sam, her braids intricately wrapped around her head.

The walkway is framed with pictures of the family, from Mickey to the recent Polaroids of Sugar's newborn. You notice a framed picture of the team from years ago, when you had first started working at the Bear. You’re squished between Carmen and Fak, the backdrop of a renovating Bear behind you all. 

The timidiness of being new had not left then, and despite the family enveloping you as their own you had wondered why Carmen had chosen you out of all the decorated chefs that had surely applied. You had asked him this once, after an exhausting dinner rush and he had simply looked up at you from his plate of stolen steak and eggs. 

“You’ve got something, Kid. Maybe it’s because you hadn’t yet gotten the light beaten out from the culinary world but I need that. Need someone who pushes against the boundaries you know?”

You had stayed quiet as he talked

“And you’re a local. Boston isn’t for the faint of heart, you know your diners better than they know themselves. Call it prejudice, I call it a safety cushion.“

You wondered what she would think of you now, her wide eyed dream so close you could see her tight grip on her chef coat in the grainy photograph.

You follow the noise of the crew into the kitchen, when Carmen is hunched over a chopping board and Richie is pointing out problems in the seating arrangement for tonight.

He exhales, ready to start another contingent when he spots your figure walking through the entryway.

“Finally. Someone fucking competent in this place” 

“Hey Richie” You smile, tightening your apron before biting back a wince. The darkness of your life outside of the Bear had a way of seeping in at times, you had grown too comfortable.

“Hey baby, you good? yeah?” Richie replies

“Richie-“ Carmen interrupts, turning his head to face you for the first time in an hour (which you did not realise but Riche surely did) 

“Fuck off. Fuck you. You sure baby? Need me to get you somethin? I got a pack of Marlboros if you need a break”

“Leave her alone, dammit Richie, and a cigarette this early?”

“Oh! Oh! The addict wants to act holier than thou all of a sudden. Just because you slapped on a couple Nic patches-“

“It’s gum and it’s fucking working asshole”

“The L hold you up?” Richie says, throwing the finger at Carmen

“No, no, um, just got in a little fight with David” You reply, cutting your eyes away from him.

Richie rolls his eyes with a groan, a sour expression filters over his face in flash at the mention of your fiance’s name.

“That fuckin’ guy, I swear that boyfriend of yours” Richie groans

“It was my fault really.”

You notice Carmen’s movements stop abruptly, the chopping growing silent with his back turned to you.

“I highly doubt that” Carmen grumbles, before Tina and Sydney come through the door

“Hey, why were you late you missed out on that guy who tried fighting Fak-”

“Her stupid fucking boyfriend”

“Easy” Carmen replies, turning to face you again

“Hey, c’mon Carmen you of all people know that man does not deserve her one fucking bit”

“Darling you need to get rid of that man I’m telling you, he ain't treating you the way you deserve. There's no good keeping an angry man” Tina chides, eyebrows raised as she wipes her fingers on the cloth draped over her shoulder.

“Yeah, he's a dick. And he’s always just…hovering when he comes.” Sydney replies

“And always talk in this condescending tone, adding random words to sound smarter than he is” Marcus’s voice interjects, peeking from around the pastry corner

“Like pseudo-intellectual goddamn-” Tina grumbles, in lightning speed

“Yuppie” Fak continues, and Tina nods 

“All I’m saying doll, is that if you end up dumpin’ him we’d be right behind ya’. Might throw a little party here, a small one…how much does it cost to hire some fireworks?”

“Ease up guys, her love life ain’t got nothing to do with us alright. Let the girl be” Carmen voice bellows “And we got work to do”

He turns to the rest of them, shaking his head feigning annoyance at the team gathering together to gossip. And yet, his hands grip his towel tight enough to leave them white, and his teeth grind against his molars when he thinks of your boyfriend.

You don’t know how they'd react when they find out he proposed, you can’t exactly hide a ring.

“Hey” You smile towards Carmen, who’s twisted features blink into resolve when he hears you

“Hey” He nods, wincing as he pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly.

“Still got that headache?”

“I’ll be fine, just wish it would save the eye stabbing until after dinner service”

“Here”

“I’m alright-“

“Take it” you repeat, pressing some pain killers in his hand.

Carmen nods gratefully, hands clasped around yours for a second longer. Before they part.

He eyes the pills, and for a second you see this puzzled look gleam across his eyes.

He pops them in his mouth, you let out a breath from your chest quietly.

You kept your work and home life separate, Carmen didn’t need nor should carry the burden of this ugly secret that paints you from the inside out.

You had a lid on it. You were sure.

You let yourself get lost in the ingrained memory of moving around the kitchen, letting the slice of your knife against the flesh of meat and fruit melt away everything you had been shouldering the past year.

It gets busy, really busy, Richie and Carmen fail to cohabitate in the hours of the dinner service, multiple plates are dropped, you almost can’t keep up with the never ending orders coming in but its also fucking amazing. The rush of delivering every component of a plate in time, making sure the meat is cooked until just right, making sure the sauce isn't runny, it feels like dancing. 

Your legs and arms ache, you have a headache and your apron is stained and you can’t tell the difference between the end of the dinner service and hitting the last step of a choreographed dance.

The high that buzzes through your body is mirrored by everyone around you, and you take a second to sink in that feeling of euphoria as the last tables are cleared.  

“That was..” You start, un-hunching your shoulders as the rest of the team look up in a daze, surrounding the kitchen

“Fuckin’ amazing, might be our best night yet” Richie grins, bobbing his chin as it rests on his hands

“That was good..we could've been a bit better at turning the tables-” Carmen murmurs

“Oh c’mon Carmy, we can talk about the finalities later but even you can admit that was pretty good” Sydney calls out, leaning her head against the door frame, as exhausted pulls at her every feature

“Yeah…yeah it was good”

“No one go anywhere, I’ve got left over schnitzel and potatoes and I know none of you have taken a break”

“How long has it been since we’ve sat down for family?” Tina mumbles, wiping her stained apron tiredly

“Too long, I don’t mind fixin’ it up” You stretch out your arms, unbuttoning your chef's coat and folding it neatly, despite Sugar throwing them into the sink to soak for the night later.

“I’ll help” Carmen nods to you, doing the same with his apron. His dark crew neck that sticks to him reveals with every button, outlining the indentations of his chest and biceps.

Family usually consists of throwing whatever leftovers from the night's dinner service onto a large plate and proceeding to throw some forks near it. There had been a long trail of food combinations that either delighted the crew or had you throwing your towel in and going to the taco truck nearby.

Today however, the night had gone so well and had distracted you even better. You could at least make up some plates, make ‘em look pretty or whatever else your hands had been trained to do.

The rest of the team move the tables to form one large spanning diner in the middle of the Bear, the scrape of wood against flooring is all that fills the air as you and Carmen work silently. You’re good together, that sort of chemistry that only comes with understanding a person so well you can anticipate their next move. And the night feels like a dance again, moving left and right, handing him pieces of chicken and spoonfuls of sauce, wiping plates clean and centering them right.

It’s only when Richie comes tumbling through the double doors does it cause Carmen to jump, spilling the ladle of hot gravy across your shirt. You wince, Carmen lets out a garbled grunt and Richie cringes.

Carmen is quick, reaching for a nearby cloth as he begins to lift up your shirt gingerly. The sauce isn't boiling, but there is a slight stinging heat that radiates across your midsection and you're too distracted and uncomfortable that you forget yourself, and let Carmen reveal you.

It takes Carmen a second, he's pulling your shirt up just below your underbra, and his fingers pause against the fabric.

You’re confused just for a moment, but it stretches out, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy of unknowing, you let yourself imagine a life where what was sprawled across your skin was just the remnants of a soggy shirt and irritated skin.

The truth of it hits you when you watch Carmen's face change in front of you.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t-”

“What?” Richie calls, coming closer before throwing his head back

“Jesus fuckin' christ kid” 

“I-I we got into a fight-“

“A fight? He beat you!”

“You don’t understand-”

“Maybe I don’t but this-“ Carmen gestures to the welts and colours that paint your stomach “Is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a long time”

Carmen’s hands are still gripping your shirt, the rag dropped to the floor between you now as you lower your head and let your hair cover your eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ You croak out, tongue heavy and eyes blurring with tears.

“Sorry-?” Carmen circuses down to meet your eyes incredulously “You’re sorry? Why are you fucking sorry, look what he fucking did to you!- what has he done to you?”

“Hey hey, honey you need to tell us what happened. This isn’t right, no fight can justify this” Richie whispers, crouching near you as he watches Carmen carefully.

“It was an accident”

“Do you truly believe that?” Richie murmurs softly, and you look up with a furrow of your brow. 

You turn to Carmen whose face is twisted in anger, his eyes on your midsection, his hands around your sides and around you.

“I don’t know anymore..I’m just so tired” You whimper, your throat growing tight as Carmen’s brows furrow, blinking and grinding his jaw

“I’m going to fucking kill him-“

“Hey, Carmen wait just- wait” Richie is quick to reach Carmen as he rears back

“Look at her- he can’t-FUCK”

“I know, and we will. I want to break his goddamn legs but we got to think of her. We need to get her out of this, we need to think about her first”

Carmen closes his eyes as you watch their interaction, and he turns to you as you blink the tears that drop down your cheek. He frowns and waits for your approval and you nod, and Richie lets go of him and he gathers you in his arms and lets you cry the last of your resolve on his shoulder.

You don’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t ask. He lets you wet his shoulder as the silence that sits in the kitchen is consumed by your muffled cries instead. 

The commotion causes the rest of the team to flood in, putting the pieces together when they see your shoulders shaking with grief and your unbuttoned top. The bear hung with the sick reality of a beat woman, and the once hungry crew now felt the nauseous image in front of them fill their stomach.

Sydney is the one that eases you out of Carmen’s arms, and pulls your hair back as she whispers apologies into your ear. She takes you to the emergency room to make sure nothing is broken. When the nurses greet you by name she waits until you're in the examination room before sobbing into Tina’s arms.

“How did I not notice, I see her every goddamn day, how did I not notice he was hurting her?”

“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. There is only one person to blame”

The rest of the team follows, and they all sprawl across the waiting room, heads between their hands.

After one of the junior doctors gives you the all clear, and Carmen and Richie follow up on the police report you make your way down the linoleum hallway in the crumbled stained shirt that had started this all.

You blink as you watch the faces of everyone you love look up in worry, exhaustion is written into their bones and still they sit in the too small waiting chairs for you. You had never felt a love like that before, so profound and overwhelming clear and you breathe it in deeply like it's the last thing you’ll taste.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t you fuckin dare-”

“I know, I know, just please hear me.”

They relent, and you wait until they all nod towards you before continuing

“You guys have taken me as your own, made me feel a part of something greater than myself.  I don’t want you to think I was unloved” Your voice heightens with the wet tears that fill your throat

“Every single time I came through those doors I felt it okay? I never understood the power of it, of love, but I feel it now and I felt it then. It just got muddled in the middle of all of this, of all the things I keep hidden. And that is my fault, but you guys, the Bear? You guys kept me alive” You whisper the last part, your voice caught in your throat as you try to still the shake your hands.

“You did nothing wrong baby, nothing. It’s hard to leave isn’t it? It’s hard to even say it” Ebra is the first one to whisper, holding your hands gently and carefully. You look at him, as his eyes gleam with the heaviness of his past and you don’t quite understand how, but you believe he knows that well. 

“We’re your family, whatever it is that you're dealing with we shoulder it to, we carry that burden. That is what we're here for, and you can take all the time that you need. Let us help you, but you know what happens now, yes?” Richie murmurs

“I need to get out”

“Damn fucking right you do. And fast, I know it's going to be hard but you need to act like everything is normal. Get in, pack a bag and get out.”

You breathe in deeply, remembering all the half packed duffle bags that had been left near the door. This time you wouldn't be able to back out, this time Carmen would make sure of it.

“Where’s Carmen?” You suddenly say, and Richie shifts his gaze to the exit sign.

“Maybe give him a few moments Kid” Richie murmurs, but you ignore him, moving quickly towards and out of the doors into the smoking area in the alleyway.

You spot him hunched over, back against the stone wall, trails of grey smoke filters from his mouth as you tsk loudly when you near him.

He raises his head up, widening his eyes before looking down at the cigarette.

“You were doing so good” You smile softly

“Yeah? Felt like pulling teeth, not grabbing for one every couple hours.”

“But those chewing gums”

Carmen shakes his head “Don’t tell Rich, but they were fucking disgusting”

You let out a hearty laugh, leaning back on the wall beside him.

Carmen takes one last deep drag, before pressing the butt of the stick into the wall that isn't near you.

It’s silent, and you feel him watching you for a long time before his voice replies in a croaky tear filled tone you had never heard come out of his mouth before.

“Goddamn it kid”

“I know” You reply instantly, the tears that you thought had left you were big fat liars.

“I want to blame myself, I will for a long time but this isn’t about me is it”

You shake your head furiously, it was so far apart from him. 

“What can I do? What can I do to make it better?” Carmen whispers, turning to face you fully now, eyes red and blonde curls messy across his brows.

“It’s not something you can fix Carm, you just got to let me do it. Let me walk away completely”

Carmen grits his teeth, “I should’ve made more attention-”

“How? Between renovating the Bear, organising the menu, fucking opening and maintaining the dinner service every night?”

Carmen shakes his head and you tug at his arm gently

“I didn’t let you notice Carm, I hid it well sometimes I even forgot about it. The bear, you? You let me forget, you let me feel so safe I forgot what he was doing to me”

Carmen reaches for your hand, holding onto it gently 

You shake your head, shaking the tears along with it. You hadn’t so much as let yourself hear the truth of what had been happening, but it flowed out of your mouth like a river into Carmen.

“He got drunk one night” You whisper, biting your cheek as you bristle at the memory of it

“He got drunk one night, and started accusing me of these horrible things. Things I would never do. And when I tried talking to him he just turned to me with this look in his eyes, and it was so unlike him Carm. It was like someone else had come and taken his body, and his voice and his mouth”

“And when I reached for him he reached back. And then I suppose I got used to being afraid of him”

“I don’t know what changed that night, but it did. Or maybe he had always been that way and I had been to blind by the feeling of being wanted that I ignored it. But it got worse, he hit me, but he started controlling what I was doing. Always flinging my phone in my face so that he could look for something that wasn’t there, eyes always scrutinising me when I came home fucking exhausted from the Bear.”

“That was how it started, and I guess it never quite ended” You murmur, and when Carmen drags his thumb across your cheek, you understand the rage that he had kept covered for you.

“I’m going to hurt him. And that's more for me than it is for you, I know it and I don’t care. He doesn't get to walk away.” Carmen replies after a beat, and his voice is even. You can see his anger from before slipping into the darkness of his pupils, but his voice is clear and devoid.

“I know” You murmur

“And you’re going to stay with me till we get you a place. Tina and Syd offered and well the whole team, but I can’t-”

“I know, you can’t put them in danger”

“No. I can’t let it happen, you being alone, him somehow getting to you. You being hurt again-” Carmen shakes his head, grinding his jaw as he cuts his eyes away.

“Okay” You mumble, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your secret that had weighed you down every day fall away.

The month after had passed quicker than any other time in your life. And for that you were grateful. You had packed a bag and moved into Carmen's apartment that night, and he and Richie had made good on their promise. They watched, as well as the rest of the Bear with a sneer as your fiance was carried into the police station, and you watched the mirror of your injuries multiplied across his face. 

The police had been slow in taking action, even you know this, so you suppose their tight lipped expressions at the beaten man they found in your trashed apartment made up for that.

Carmen slept near the door for the first two weeks, a bat in his hand and his notebook of recipes filled with scribbled annotations. Tossing and turning enough times, made you wrap your blanket around yourself and join him by the door. You would wake up some nights, in a sweat from the terror of your nightmare imagining him somehow finding you, and you would join him those times as well.

The truth of all that had happened still had not yet been told, and you doubt that it ever will. But you were okay with that, and Carmen was too. And so when your fiance had been tried and sentenced, and the promise of broken bones hung over him even years after, Carmen had made no mention of finding you a place. 

And so you stayed, and made a home for yourself. Let your shoes get muddled and clutter the hallway, have your toothbrush besides his own. Move in the last pieces of yourself that had been left in that prison to a place that could maybe change them.

You spent Thursdays with Richie, he’d wait at the foyer for you and he'd take you out for lunch like clockwork. Divulging in your week as he did his, he let you steal some of his cigarettes and you let him ramble to you. Richie had surprised you, when all was said and done. He had known what to do, knew how to talk to you, and you think you credit him to a lot of where you were now. You suppose he blames himself a little as well, so you don’t mind that Thursdays were his way of checking up on you.

You let the team act the same way, Tina bringing you plates of food and tupper wares of lasagna till Carmen's fridge was hard to open, Sydney calling every day, Ebra and Marcus making sure you had someone who could walk you home if Carmen had to stay back. And when you had finally had enough, they nodded and backed away and let you out of their grip.

You're crouched in the fire escape of Carmen's building, passing a bottle of wine that you had snuck from service. 

“I visited him today”

“What?” Carmen replies, knowing immediately who you were talking about.

You shrug your shoulders, “I was too much of a mess to confront him, and the court proceedings left me too numb to even face him. But I went today, and I told him. What he had done, how he had changed.”

“But then he laughed and I punched him in his goddamn mouth”

“Atta girl” Carmen grins, his smile filling up the entire bottom of his face.

“So I can’t ever come back to the Boston Corrections facility, and boy am I glad. You know what this means though right?”

“Hm?” Carmen mumbles with a mouthful of street tacos

“You can’t ever get yourself thrown in prison” You chide, and you smile when he throws his head back in laughter

“Seriously Carm?” You bemoan, resting against the living room entryway

“Yes, the bed is strictly meant for you. What do you take me for? Letting a woman sleep on the couch” Carmen gruffs, carefully placing the duvet over the couch cushions.

“It’s been nearly a year since I’ve moved in, Carmen. I don’t think it's ridiculous to assume we can share a bed together”

Carmen grinds his jaw, swallowing back grunt at the thought of sharing a bed with you. As if it was no big thing, as if Carmen would be able to sleep with you next to him.

“It’s called being a host”

“I signed the lease 2 months ago, we’re technically de-facto” You raise your eyebrows, folding your hands across your chest

“The only time I’ll let the government decide what we are is when-if I put a ring on that finger” Carmen replies, the little slip causing him to cut his eyes from you and back to the duvet that was already folded.

You shake your head with a laugh “This you’re way of proposing Carm? Take a girl out for dinner first”

Carmen mumbles under his breath, flattening the duvet with his inked hands before his phone buzzes

“Goddamnit, that’s Richie. 

“Leave that sofa and let's go down to meet our friends and have a nice time. God knows we’ve earned more than a few drinks at Nick’s” You reply, swiping Carmen’s phone

“Hey!”

“You weren’t even going to answer him” You roll your eyes.

You send Richie a text that was all apologetic and none grammatically correct as you shuffle out of your work pants into some jeans. 

The team was already at the bear, halfway through the first round of drinks and you’d be damned if you let Carmen make the both of you late.

Carmen is in jeans as well, and the white shirt he always dons fits around his chest tightly. You can lie to yourself most days, but in times like this, where you both live in this domestic bubble your mind wanders.

You don’t let it too much.

But when you're visiting family, and you pass by the Louisiana welcome sign planted in the roadway, and the weather gets warm and the nights stretch out you let yourself think of him. You let yourself imagine a life where he was entwined, in you, your life, your days while you drink on the porch of your family home.

The thought of being in anything new scares you to no end, your past finds you in moments you least expect and dredges you down to the same feeling you felt when you were with him.

But Carmen was your past too wasn’t he? He was muddled and interlinked with all the memories that make your chest ache and your hands shake. Carmen didn’t feel new..you had already been living with each other for a year now, and you suppose the way you both flow into each other's lives was no different.

You’d be together, in the way you had always been but different also. You’d get to grow familiar of the taste of him, you’d get to feel him under your skin, beneath your fingers, and he’d sleep in that fucking bed for the first time in a year.

Then the sun would dip below the horizon, the sounds of the insects and birds would come back to you, and the creeping shadow of guilt and insecurity would remind you of who you were again. 

You’d taste the bitter embarrassment of forcing Carmen to be that way with you, throwing your head back as you gulp down the beer in your hand as you try to stave away the taste. The dream disappears each time from you, like the oranges and reds that paint the Louisiana sky every evening.

“Hey, we going or what?” Carmen says, his eyes narrowing at, you noticing the way your eyes glaze over.

“Yeah, yes” You nod, swallowing the thoughts of him quickly as you finish tying your boots and let Carmen lock the door behind you. 

The bar is surprisingly crowded on a Tuesday night, and you have to squeeze past crowds of leather wearing bikers before finally seeing the team seated in a long booth at the back.

“Finally!” Richie yells, hands in the air and his beer swishing out of the neck.

“We were about to send a search party” Tina smiles, looking toward you with a glint in her eyes when she notices Carmen’s arm at your back.

“Aren’t you guys like, a 2 minute walk from this place? Fak got here before you” Marcus replied, his old fashioned nursed in your arms.

“I had no involvement in our tardiness, he was too busy fixing his makeshift couch bed”

“Oh don’t tell me your still sleeping on that” Richie’s eyes widen

“You know that ain’t even a good couch right? We found it on the side of the road-“ 

“It’s not good for your back Carmen, all those cushions” Ebra shakes his head disapprovingly.

“It’s perfectly fine Ebra, and who would I be if I let a woman sleep on the couch?” Carmen grumbles, as both slide into the booth next to Sydney.

“I mean, there is an easy straightforward solution” Sydney murmurs, and everyone turns to her quickly.

“You could both just sleep in the same bed together” She replies, after looking at everyone dumbfounded.

“Only married people share a bed, that’s Sicilian tradition”

“Yeah, mixing work and personal life isn’t-“

“Mixing? They already live together!” Sydney replies, defensively.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already” Four murmured, before snapping his mouth closed when Carmen narrows his eyes to him.

“It’s not about fucking tradition, or whatever. I’m not gonna put her-you in that situation and make you uncomfortable”

“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” You murmur without thinking, and the booth goes quiet.

Carmen shakes his head, blinking as you remain quiet.

You wince at the silence, maneuvering your body quickly out of the booth as you almost fall out.

“Uh-I’m going to get a drink” You reply quickly 

Carmen's body isn’t fast enough for his legs and he stands up from his position on the booth quickly, almost tumbling over.

 “I’ll come with you”

You shake your head, forcing a tight smile as you wave him off.

“It’s okay, I know your order” You reply quickly, turning around without seeing the look on Carmen’s face.

You slide into one of the vacant barstools, signalling to the bartender as they make the rounds across the counter.

The rows of silver bracelets that hang around the bartender's wrists cling as they mix and shake drinks, and you let yourself get lost in the glittering light show of them reflecting off the bar lights. They distract you enough to not notice the man that now leers over you.

You flinch when you feel his hand touch your shoulder, and when you turn expecting one of the guys from the Bear you're taken back when you're met with a five o clock shadow and a stink of vodka.

“What's a girl like you doin’ all alone?” 

“I’m good” You grit out from between your teeth

“Oh c’mon, you girls love to play hard but what you really need-”

“I said leave me alone asswhole” You spit, roughly moving his latched fingers from your shoulder. 

The man sneers, his voice growing louder and sloppy as he begins to swear at you. His hands find their way to your waist, and the shiver of disgust turns into a familiar sharp pain as you shout out.

“You fucking bitch” The man starts, before you see the flash of dirty blonde curls cover your vision and the feeling of his fingers around you is wrenched off.

Carmen’s hands are around his neck, and he slams him into the wooden floors of the Bar with ease. He holds him there before turning to look up at you, his eyes blown out and his eyebrows furrowed behind his curls. Your chest heaves as you meet his gaze, and you watch as his eyes trail down your body, almost surveying the extent of your injuries and filing it into his mind so that it is all he thinks about when he breaks the skin across his knuckles.

You watch Carmen work, watch the way his shoulders and back contorts under every movement that lands a punch into the man's face. The buzzing chatter of the bar increases, as people begin to take notice of the shouts of frazzled swears and slobby slurs that leave the man's mouth. Someone screams there is a fight, and the bartender mutters obscenities as they try to push through the crowd.

Carmen lands punch after punch into his face, with no real sense of stopping as his movements grow more and more crazed with every crack of skin and dribble of blood that paints his hands. Carmen's eyes look determined, like he had a goal to all of this, and when Richie and the rest of the team pushes past the crowd and shouts out to him to stop, he looks up at you do you know.

You didn’t get to see what he had done to your husband, or how. But now, he takes his time with the man under him who kicks and fails, blubbering out blood and drool. He continues to stare at you, and the rest of the patrons look on in horror as the man under Carmen becomes disguised by the brutality of Carmens fists across his body. You hear the crack of bone, and when the man screams out a loose and garbled apology from the swollen tongue of his mouth, does Carmen flick his eyes down to him.

“You’re sorry? Yeah?” Carmen murmurs, softly

The man nods eagerly, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes swollen

“I’m not sure I believe that” Carmen replies, sending his foot into the mans stomach as he keels over

“Okay, Carmen that's enough” Richie calls out

“All I did was ask her a question!” The man screams out, his words jagged and unclear

“Hey, you shut the fuck up” Richie replies, before clocking his head to try and meet Carmens gaze who is back on you

“Look man, I get it. That one time wasn’t enough, but you can’t keep doing this”

Carmen grinds his teeth, as you look on in awe as his knuckles bleed violently, throwing his arm up and swinging down onto the man.

You got what you needed from this, and so when you step closer to Carmen and turn your head to the side you can only think of one thing

“I’m banned for at least 12 months” 

You watch his fingers loosen around the man's bloody shirt, and Carmen wipes his hands across the man's chest before slowly straightening up from his crouched position.

“Get the fuck out, the both of you before the cops get here” The bartender grits out, shaking his head.

Carmen nods, “I’m not fucking sorry”

“Yeah yeah I know” The bartender rolls his eyes, before you grab Carmen's arm and push through the gawking faces of onlookers

You find a door leading out to a side alleyway, and you both fall out from the door into a combined heap.

“I had to do it okay? The way he was looking at you and that fucking hand around your side I couldn’t just let him-“ Carmen starts, chest heaving up and down and the splatter of spit and blood across his jaw

You don’t let him finish the rushed words that fall out of his mouth before you cover it with your own. Gripping onto the loose collar of his shirt, you drink down the anger and violence that had been festering on the both of you.

Carmen tastes sweet, like the cranberry jus he had been preparing, and rough too, like his worn workmen jacket and the pepper taste of his nicotine gum.

You realise then that you would never taste something as great as that, and that you would be chasing the feeling of how Carmen’s lips against your own vibrates through you from head to foot.

You pull away with quickness, chest heaving and eyes wide as you feel Carmen’s mouth warm your chest.

Carmen doesn’t blink, he stares at you, the brittle Chicago winter blowing his hair across his forehead and the distant sound of sirens and he stares at you.

“I’m not sorry” You whisper, pressing your lips together

“Good” Carmen replies before you’ve even uttered the last word.

And when you blink the cold smoke of his breath is over you again, his inked fingers cradle your head and he takes your mouth again.

You don’t stop the crash of your open mouths and dipping tongues until the warmth of Carmen covers you entirely, until November in Chicago feels like July.

taglist !

@kpopgirlbtssvt @hansfics @nolita-fairytale @parmforcarm @rooster-bradshaw

[turtle-mama]

I definitely liked this as well. I knew her absolutely tearing into Stolas was coming, but he needed it.

What's also nice is she's not completely on Stella's side either. She hated her mother basking in her triumph and isn't particularly a fan of her Uncle. So I can see her yelling at her mom at some point too. Because the celebration is already starting to get old.

And she has every right to be angry with both. But she still has every right to still LOVE both.

There's a lot of Stella hate because we don't see any other side other than her trying to kill/get rid of Stolas. I think she's hilariously dumb and plays a role well. The real villain I believe is Adrealphus. What he planned was far worse than just killing Stolas, and now we're seeing the repercussions of that.

For right now, I don't want her to just forgive anyone but herself in this situation. She feels completely alone now and I'm not even sure if Loona is going to help her feel better. It would be nice to let her have a friend, but I don't think that's going to happen. What I feel for the most is, she's still a kid. Without any parent now.

So I REALLY like the choice of having Octavia save Stolas (and Blitzo) BEFORE tearing into him for all his fuckups and slamming the metaphorical door.

It so much better illustrates that Octavia might save Stolas's life, she is still DONE with her father.

[gomzdrawfr]

Bam bing bong, summary of my doodles in 2024

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Dustin moved to the window by Steve’s front door and pressed his face to it.

"Robin. . .why is Steve talking to Santa?" Dustin asked and turned to look at her.

"Oh, he knows him very personally. He called him over for you guys," Robin said.

"Steve knows Santa?!" Dustin shrieked. "He never said!"

"Okay, do you still bel - ," Robin started to say.

"WHY IS STEVE KISSING SANTA?!" Dustin yelled, his face pressed to the glass.

"Oh, well, Steve’s been a very bad boy this year, and he's trying to work his way back onto the nice list," she replied.

"BY SEDUCING SANTA?!" Dustin yelled. "That's not how you do it!"

Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, and El entered the hallway.

"What's going on?" Max asked.

"Steve knows Santa! He called him over, and now he's cheating on Steve with him!" Dustin yelled.

"What? Is he trying to get on the nice list or naughty list?" Mike asked.

"Fuck this," Max swore.

They all spilled out onto the front lawn with Robin following after them.

"You guys do know that Santa isn't - "

"STEVE!" Dustin yelled.

"Oh, goddamn it," Steve cursed as he pulled away from Santa. "I've ruined - "

"Are you cheating on Eddie?!" Dustin yelled, his hands on his hips. "You're my brother, and I love you, but if you ruin this relationship with Eddie, I'll never forgive you!"

"That's sweet, Henderson, but completely unnecessary," Santa said and pulled his beard down to reveal Eddie. "Surprise!"

"Oh my god!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Don't beat yourself up, Dustin, it's an easy mistake to make!" Eddie said cheerfully.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" He asked.

"Uh, well, Steve wanted to keep it a surprise, and I thought you were old enough to know," Eddie said.

"It makes sense now, Eddie wasn't here last Christmas!" Mike exclaimed.

"And it makes sense why his wounds healed so quickly," Lucas said.

"And why he can drive so fast," El said.

"And why he is so good with animals," Max said.

"And kids," Dustin said.

"He's great with kids and storytelling!" Will exclaimed.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Eddie asked.

"I don't know," Steve frowned.

"He loves elves and Lord of the Rings!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Oh my god! Eddie's Santa Claus!" Dustin yelled.

"I have to call Nancy!" Mike yelled.

"We have to call the rest of the party!" Dustin yelled.

Robin, Steve, and Eddie watched dumbfounded as the kids ran back inside.

"Do they still believe in Santa?" Eddie asked.

"This is the first time I'm fucking hearing about it and we've known them longer than you," Steve said.

"Maybe since they know that the Upside Down exists, they think other things like the North Pole exists," Robin said.

"Makes sense," Steve frowned.

"I am NOT telling them that I'm not Santa," Eddie said, crossing his arms. "You do it, Steve!"

"I'm not doing it!" Steve yelled.

"I'll do it!" Robin yelled and then paused. "After everything they've been through. . .don't they deserve to believe in a little bit of magic?"

"I don't know. . .we would be lying to them, Robin," Eddie said.

Meanwhile, the kids were watching them argue from the window.

"So, how long do you think it'll take them to realize that we don't actually believe in Santa Claus?" Max asked.

"A while," Mike snickered.

"Eddie should have done a better job at hiding the Santa costume," Max said.

As Robin, Steve, and Eddie fought on the front lawn, the kids watched with freshly made hot chocolate and Christmas music playing in the background. Snowflakes began to fall from the sky, dancing around to land on the ground.

"The mood is right. The spirit's up. We're here tonight, and that's enough. Simply having a wonderful Christmastime. . ."

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 1]

The first time Tim sees him, he is seven, standing by his Father's side, and bored out of his mind.

The 'party' is numbingly dull, full of adults, sparkling flutes of champagne, tiny sandwiches, and fake twinkling laughter. Tim doesn't understand how his parents find any of it interesting; in his opinion, nothing about just talking to people for hours and hours straight sounds as exciting as they make it look.

He wishes he could just go home already. Not that his time in the Drake estate gets any more exciting than bothering house elves or spending his day in the library, but it's still better than this.

Or, Tim thought so until he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering on the floor.

He turns around, and there are yelps and screams of surprise and angry swearing. It takes Tim a few seconds to realize what's going on - a few people are holding their hands to their faces, like trying to hide them, and he gets a glimpse of an elephant trunk peeking through the palms of one old lady.

And then, there's a sound of loud, delighted laughter ringing through the room, and the sound of footsteps, and-

"DANIEL!" Tim hears Mr. Masters, the host of the event, yell at the top of his lungs.

A moment later, Tim sees a boy zooming past him, elbowing the adults on his way to push through the crowd and still cackling like a madman. Tim doesn't get a good look at him, what with the boy running so fast he almost trips, but he does notice the messy black hair and the large, knitted blue sweater that looks too big on the boy's body.

"Daniel Jackson Fenton, come back this instant!" Mr. Masters calls again, his thunderous steps louder than all the yelling around them.

The boy doesn't even deign him with a look over his shoulder. Instead, he darts towards the nearest window, opens it with what seems to be practiced ease, and climbs on the windowsill. Only then does he look back to the chaos he created in the room full of respectable guests, and grins.

Tim blinks. He's never seen anyone smile like this, all teeth and mischief, and cheeky excitement.

"What, too old to catch me, Vlad?" He sticks his tongue at Mr. Masters, and just for a moment, Tim is scared the man is going to lunge at him. Yet, right as Mr. Masters gets close enough, the boy pushes off and jumps out the window, his laughter echoing through the night.

Mr. Masters looks like he is about to follow - and Tim is, for once, curious to see if he would - but stops himself short, only leaning out the window.

"Don't bother coming back, you little badger, you are grounded!" The man yells. The only response he gets is another fit of distant cackling from the gardens.

"That is sure a way to entertain the crowd," Father says quietly, and the tall, dark-skinned woman he's been talking to before the whole mess happened snorts a short laugh.

Tim looks back to the few people who are still sporting elephant trunks for their noses.

It's the first time he thinks a party full of adults in stuffy robes can be more fun than he expected.

—☆—☆—☆—

Some visuals for v i b e s

The room where the scene took place:

Tim's drawing after he was back home from the party (house elves helped):

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

I have the vaguest possible idea of where I'm going, but this is definitely going to be a multichapter thing.

A few notes I've got pinned down so far:

Drakes are a mostly pureblood family, not filthy rich and straight up focused on the whole purity thing, but keeping their reputation clean and nice, and their income stable. Both Jack and Janet have attended Hogwarts, and they were both Ravenclaws while they were at it. Janet might have some relation to Blacks, but it's so distant that she doesn't bother keeping it in mind.

Vladimir Masters is, technically, a pureblood wizard, but his family has been in England for only two or so generations. His grandma (who is still very much alive) came from Russia after falling madly in love with Vlad's grandpa (who is now deceased and, as the rumor goes, his wife had a hand in it). He also attended Hogwarts and has been a Ravenclaw in the same year as Madeline Fenton nee Walker. Hence, Daniel Fenton is his godson and, unofficially, as of right now, heir to Masters family.

[part 2 ->]

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

[yandere-kokeshi]

May I request Horangi, Alex, Rodolfo, and Alejandro having a sweetheart female darling who loves baking for him when he gets home? Like deserts from his home country, and or tries to?

— Yandere headcanon of Horangi, Alex, Rodolfo, and Alejandro with a female darling who loves to bake for them

Warnings: Yandere behavior

A/N: This is so cute!! I enjoyed writing this so much. Please enjoy <3

Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:

Kim thinks it’s the most adorable thing ever. It means an enormous amount of endearment toward him that you are not only willing to cook for him but also engaging with his culture. He loves it so much, maybe a bit too much.

It took him a bit to get used to coming home, smelling the freshly made bungeoppang, making him feel a type of signature way that he never could fully understand nor grasp. But he accepted it. It made him warm, ridiculously warm inside, and he craved it more each time.

Looks forward to coming home and finding out what you’d be making him. It makes him giddy inside, smiling from ear to ear that you participate so hard in making him well-fed. He often sends silly messages when he can, copying and sending some images or recipes of nice sweets before asking the sweet question, “Make this for me?”

Kim really enjoys watching you cook, especially if you two FaceTime while he’s away, or it’s just from the counter that he’s leaning on. Seeing you focused, pounding the batter, and engaging with muscle memory makes him chuckle under his breath. However, he’d love to help if you’d ask, his big, burly hands gently covering yours as his head leans on your shoulder, practicing on the dough.

Alex Keller:

Alex loves it to death. The fact you’re willing to make sweets for him, yelling at him to sit down for dinner as soon as he comes home, makes him have the biggest smirk. Though, it’s even better for him, as he has the biggest sweet-tooth and isn’t afraid to eat as much sweetened food you give him.

Extremely extra. When he finds out he can spoil you back with cooking items, especially clothing—but specifically for him. Would take you to find matching aprons, oven mittens, and themed pots for the seasons he’d feel like you would like..

Farah won’t escape his constant earful of you and how you cook for him and how she should taste your cooking. Because of that, she often leaves recipe books and online recipes to share with him—letting him send them to you with a cute reply of, “How about this?”

Deeply wants you to invite him to participate or even help you. As much as he enjoys your cooking, he wants to equally more time with you. The thoughts of both of you handling cookie dough, kneading it, and laughing like dorks put his mind at ease.

Rodolfo “Rudy” Para:

To be honest, Rodolfo is a bit sad that you put so much energy into ensuring he’s feeling spoiled. A part of him is guilty he can’t reciprocate in the same way—but he’s so thankful. So, when he comes home to your baked goodies, he often gives gifts to you as a form of “thank you.”

It’s often bouquets of flowers, freshly tipped-cut at the bottom, so you don’t need to worry about them. Or sometimes new clothes, pants, and socks are always acceptable to him. Plus, it’s even better with the idea that the two of you can match.

Loves trying your new foods and ingredients, incredibly supportive when you aren’t sure what to add first, especially if you aren’t sure if it was well-made. Even if it wasn’t, he’s too much of a sweetheart and swallows it down. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you if it was bad.

He really enjoys watching you bake and helping around in the kitchen if you allow him. Rodolfo loves bonding in any form of presence, so if he can help, you can betcha he will. Even if it’s helping by pouring the chocolate in a pan or mixing cinnamon in the bowl of arroz con leche (Mexican rice pudding).

Alejandro “Colonel” Vargas:

Alejandro is always happy to come home to your fresh foods, especially regarding his food customs. He’s smiling ear-to-ear, prepping your face with kisses regardless of the batter on your face as he begins to fill his face full of sweets you’d make him.

He lives for a part of domestic moments with you, even though he’s better with a knife and cooking with more specific ingredients. His ma would be more than happy to share her cooking specials—coming over to help you bake, teaching you her ways of cooking, and praising you when the two of you are done. It flutters his heart that you and his ma are close.

He enjoys your baking, seeing the amount of thought and care that went into what you made. He doesn’t mind if it’s messy or even a bit burnt; he’s eating it all with a ginormous smile.

Alejandro’s men, including Rudy, never hear enough of you—him sharing photos of your baked pan dulces and sopaipilla’s. They often drool at the look of them, which makes him laugh. He’s darn lucky to have you, isn’t he?

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.