#chez sweet chez

[lilithsaintcrow]

Sun Cookies

And I say, it’s all right. The Princess made sugar cookies for Beltane. Baking is her happy place; I was more than content to reap the rewards. They were lovely, pillowy, and cakelike; she’s been experimenting with different textures. The only drawback is we’re now out of yellow food coloring and I don’t think that’s sold separately. We’ve had the last cold snap. The grass is luxuriant.…

[swordluck]

Laurentius taps out a text message, deletes it, taps it out again, and quickly hits send before he can talk himself out of it.

i was looking at that picture you sent again and it just sort of takes the air out of me every time i realize you're my girl.

He is absolutely positive he has mucked something up the moment he sends it, but there it is, off in the ether, well away from his ability to take it back.

This romance stuff is for the birds, he grumbles inwardly. Which birds, he isn't sure, but not any of them that look like him, that's for certain.

Home again.  Shoes neatly by the door, candles aglow, the kettle rising to a rolling boil, steam climbing the kitchen window.  Outside, the world was dark.  Inside, it basked in warm white light, baked in the homely scents of cinnamon and juniper berry.  From an outdated sound system, the velvet charm of classic crooners poured, Dean Martin singing of a blue moon and love found – a fitting backdrop as her phone softly chimed, Laurentius’ name shining in her notifications.

Anri read the message as she lingered by condensation-cloaked glass.  The world outside was a blur of amber streetlights and the hum of distant traffic, but here, in the stillness of her cosy little apartment, his words burned brighter than any township or city beyond.  Her heart, fragile and hopeful, fluttered against her ribs like a trapped songbird. 

She read it again, and again, and then a third time for luck, her face scrunched with unbridled joy.  There was an honesty to Laurentius’ confession, a rawness that made her chest ache with something sweet and unfamiliar.  It was far from the polished charm she had seen others wield like a knife – his words felt earnest, almost vulnerable, as if his fingers had trembled when he pressed send. 

Anri placed her phone on the worn kitchen table, her fingers lightly brushing the screen, reluctant to let the moment slip away too quickly, but equally reluctant to rush through it.  Leaning back against the worktop, her gaze drifted to the smudged horizon beyond the window.  She could picture Laurentius now, in some dimly lit corner of his world, the sharp edges of his life carved into his posture.  He was rough-hewn, certainly, but he adored her, he made her feel safe.  With him, she was sure to see true love’s face – unmasked, bare, beautiful.

His girl.  He had called her his girl.  Not with possession, but with wonder, as if he could scarcely believe it.  The weight of those words sank their tender hooks into her, leaving her breathless in their wake.

Exhaling slowly, still smiling, Anri reached for her phone once more.  There would be no perfect reply to match his raw sincerity.  All the same, when she finally tapped her response – her touch light, sure – she committed her truths to the ether without hesitation:

I hope it never gets old. I hope I always take your breath away. I know I’ll thank my lucky stars every day for you.

Drunk on the honey of their romance, Anri spun a giddy, girlish circle, her skirt flaring and swirling.  When she came to a halt, she stood, the city’s murmurs fading into nothingness as she wondered if he felt it too – the joy of being wanted so wholly, of being seen as nothing short of a blessing.  A moment later, her thumbs hovered over the keys again, her expression brightening with anticipation as she hurried to add:  

Dinner’s in the oven. What time will you get here? You’d better come hungry!

[the-road-from-calvary]

And it is not that I wholly advocate against ever saying it. While I likely would have been... less open, had it been something that would have suited my partner, I am hardly discreet about my association.

It is simply tedious for people to act as though it is unreasonable to be cautious.

[chezkazu]

Chocolate Banana Cake

[midnasocarina]

so the Scene Queen show was amazing + we saw Peni Parker and CHEZ! We actually had barricade for them both, since we accidentally got there super early, but had to move up the back after their sets because my partner got hit with a dizzy spell :( <3

(photos by me! with no zoom!)

but even with our back view it was such a great show! I might write a full recount later because it was really something special, but for now I'll just say it was probably some of the most fun I've ever had seeing a band ♡

[mrsgurgle]

Well this has been A Day (bomb a midterm, cry at a highschool choir concert, collect cat pee sample)

[flowery-laser-blasts]

Chez Molerat VS Dine 'n Crime - MENU

"KP! BIG SITCH! DIRE SITCH! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!" "Ron, calm down. Breathe in...," "..." "..." "..." "You can breathe out no--" "DRAKKEN OPENED A CAFÉ ACROSS THE STREET FROM BUENO NACHO AND HE'S TRYING TO GET THEM TO GO OUT OF BUSINESS SO HE CAN RENT THEIR BUILDING AND WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!!." "Wait--, slow down; Drakken opened a Café?" "COME ON AND TAKE A LOOK FOR YOURSELF!"

At long last, I have finally finished this massive project! I got inspired by those 'anime pop-up restaurants', Disney park foods and themed cafés and I wanted to try and take my own spin on it with a Kim Possible themed menu! To save you all some travel ticket money to my house, I've written down the recipes/links to all of these food items so you can make these yourself in real life! The food items are all based on things I've eaten/made before and I hope that my picks are to your liking! DRINKS: Quench your thirst, and OBEY: [coming soon] The Ronfactor: [coming soon] It's 'juiced' you: [coming soon] She's got the green magic MAIN DISHES: The Naco: [coming soon] Basic average meal: [coming soon] Dumpling I.H.O.A.T.: [coming soon] What is that? That tasty thing!: [coming soon]

DESSERT: El Presidente Shego's vacay: [coming soon] Camel turtle brownies: [coming soon] What's the sweets?: [coming soon]

BON APPETITE!

(NOTE: This is the master post so this post won't be rebloggable until I finished posting all recipes!)

Massive thanks to @bcbdrums, @gothicthundra, @selfox, @creatorping and @legendary-guest for talking with me during the process of this project!

[theseeingfawn]

Favorite Modern/AU Elriel Fanfiction

This is for you @capt-seaweed-girl 💗

🌹Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince by yourstarsmyscars

Description: Fresh off a brutal break-up, Elain is in need of a distraction. A casual fling. One no strings bad idea, with a guy she definitely won't get attached to, so she can finally move on.

Azriel has lost count of the number of women who've come to regret meeting him. But while he may be the worst idea Elain has had in a while, he's determined to prove that she won't regret him.

🌹Shadowsinger [erotic audio for women, nsfw] by @dottielovegood

Description: Azriel does audio porn. Elain is a big fan.

🌹A Match Baked In Heaven by NikeTheStatue

Description: Elain Archeron, owner of the prestigious Marigold Agency, which specialises in exclusive matchmaking has a new and very challenging client.

Azriel Night, football superstar, 'stubborn as a mule' (according to his brother Cassian), handsome womaniser is under pressure to find himself a wife. At stake--a 230 million inheritance.

Problem is--he can't stand his new matchmaker, and by the looks of it, she shares his feelings--she can barely tolerate him.

She is haughty, stuck-up, annoying, preachy and proper. And she 'believes in love'.

He is rude, temperamental, uncultured, full of issues and a bad attitude. And he doesn't have a romantic bone in his body.

Will Elain succeed in finding him a wife? A woman who'd learn to love him for what he is? It's a challenge that Elain will reluctantly take upon herself. Will she fail? Probably. But with the help of her faithful three-legged pug Piglet, she will do everything that she can to find Azriel his 'happily ever after'.

🌹The Enemy by @separatist-apologist

Description: In order to kill his most hated enemy, Azriel has to kidnap Graysen Nolan's fiance.Should be easy, right?

🌹Everywhere, Everything by  @duskandcobalt

Description: Two close friends, one crossed line.…

After a decade of friendship, Elain and Azriel are left to navigate the fallout following an encounter that's far from platonic.

or A friends to lovers fic about denial and longing.

🌹Literally in Love by julesherondalex

Description: Welcome to Velaris High - your favorite idiots are now teaching innocent High School students.

One day, biology teacher Elain finds a love note addressed to her, without anyone taking responsibility for it. She’s left to figure out the hopeless romantic - all the while fighting her silly crush for the nerdy math teacher.

Get ready for sweet pining, misunderstandings and workplace romance.

(Song of the Fic: You Are The Solution (Chez Remix) - Loving Caliber)

🌹Nothing But Trouble by TheSeeingFawn (My fic)

Description: Elain Archeron, beloved sweetheart of the quaint town of Hewn Hills, yearns for a life beyond the constraints and expectations placed upon her by her family and community. Azriel Rosehall, a captivating yet misunderstood outsider, struggles with the prejudices of the town as he endeavors to forge his own destiny. Drawn to each other by an undeniable connection, Elain and Azriel are determined to be together, even if it means bringing trouble to the charming small-town.

Inspired by Practice Makes Perfect by Sarah Adams

“Everything that's worth having is some trouble." - L.M. Montgomery

[soda-sparkss]

im going hecking bonkers bro like i'm going mad

they are all interacting with panckes

og wally is by @partycoffin

real world wally is by @chez-cinnamon

waldo darling is by @kyleeartist

reboot wally is by @bloodrediscream (haha get pancaked idiot/affectionate)

candyland wally is by @shishimintyarts which reminds me of this game i had called candyland and i rocked at it

sweet tooth wally is by @doggwwoggy23

casino of the vamps au is by @larzuen

home bound and flowered wally are by me<3

now pardon me while i go nuts

[lilithsaintcrow]

Solace In Creation

“I just felt like making something nice,” she said. The Princess woke up thinking about baking yesterday, so when I got home from the morning run there was fresh coffee cake. Every room smelled delicious. I had an ancient, battered Better Homes & Gardens paperback recipe book in the old house, mostly for just one or two recipes. I think it got lost in the scramble to move–good heavens, that was…

[tateglog]

This is an updated post on the AU account by Welcome home I decided to update the post every week on Fridays!

Here are all the social networks of the author and their ay!

(Tik Tok):

Rainbow Factory Wally: @dodozoi17

Lovesick Wally: @halohelene

Opposite Wally: @livelaughloveandersen

Creyscale Wally: @sweetestrosiebee

Red wally: @licoricecookie1

Mirror wally: @horrortheory01

Coroline Wally: @kylee_dottavioartist

Priest wally: @littlesweets34

Butcher Wally: @littlesweets34

Actor Wally: @frillsand

Homesick Wally: @nameko_nick

Ss!wally: @aku_sunshin3

Royalty Wally: @neonross_

Fallen Wally: @kimuarts

So below wally: @sobelowwallydarling

Space Wally: @mits_the_simp1

Flower bed: @majorkro

Assumption Wally: @bud_lor

60-x Wally: @tonyr3ed_tt

Wally Wonka: @deaddeerdarling

Zombie apocalypse Wally: @rrosebud333

Watcher Wally: @deadlyeyez

Skater Wally: @pickledplumzz

Siren Wally: @zoomie_zoomloll

Highschool Wally: @muffinturner

Beach town Wally: @pinksugarberry

Music universe: @erica.vikcy

Phantom Wally: @asterine_bean

Final!act Wally: @daylightgenesis

Observer Wally: @neonross_

Warley Wally: @blueymagicalkawaii

Reverse Wally: @cookiedoughcd

Ghost Wally: @m0th_gh0st

Daycare! Wally: @darkfluffydragon

Reaper Wally: @h0llyn0vaberry

Sweet n Jam Wally: @problepatic_blue

Lurk Wally: @donttouchdachild_

Apple blossom Wally: @astarlightsend

Metal Wally: @by_baby60

Punk Wally: @cartoon_loonatic

Photographer: @era_artx

Cafe Wally: @mocha_fern

sundowner syndrome Wally: @gutturalcarnivore

Mafia Wally: @brightkillerx3_prztx

Celestial Wally: @bubblegumbaby11_

Grimoire Wally: @starberries13

Psycho murder Wally: @kittysxrlmw

Parallel Wally: @parallel_au

Stargazer Wally: @ender_kinggs

Aviary Wally: @seiless_

Geno Wally: @sabrandomdraws

Hyper Wally: @kii_the_artist

Steampunk Wally: @rqgreyy

Schizophrenic Wally: @gyn3th

Apple Wally: @itskorrychang

Sweet Dreams: @wildspirit456

Escape the studio Wally: @thelazyangel456

Colloid Wally: @anonyjakashi

Eternal Dream Wally: @theextraidioz

Rockstar Wally: @tv_gvy

Glamrock Wally: @silly13r

God Wally: @sweetcoffee_

Silent Home Wally: @just_call_me_em_

Singer Wally: @ityart

WH Stage On Wally: @imjade381

Nightmare Dolls Wally: @yamicat144

The Dark Wally: @luigisbf

Apple Blood Wally: @javadoodle404

Omori Wally: @bm0ooo0

Ajolote Wally: @cossette_b

Ending Cycle: @manda.aarts

Pop star Wally: @sophia_lefeld_art

Skater Wally: @centiphantomhive08

Rui Wally; @im_suddenly_edgy

Police Wally: @localarsonist07

(Tumblr):

Pokémon Wally: @partycoffin

Mod Wally: @Clownsuu

Emo Wally: @Clownsuu

Ena Wally: @Eechytooru

Toymaker Wally: @wifumakervl

Playfellow Workshop Wally: @chez-cinnamon

Animated Puppetry Wally: @mandasarts

Finfolk Wally: @aerkame

Demon Wally: @infohazardouz

Overboard Wally: @echoentities

Muppets Wally: @somethingsomething-bear

Killer Wally: @itskorrychang

Big Apple Wally: @flippantfoe

Cupid Wally: @fetusmeme

Candy Land Wally: @shishimintyarts

Self-Aware Swap Wally: @anonymous-paperbag

Midnight Mass Wally: @vamlentvair

Sky Wally: @kyletheodred

Heart of glass: @starryofthy

McDonald's Wally: @yunjinerd

Tailor Wally: @shroomycattiktok

Circus Wally: @nonomives

Animatronic Wally: @kyletheodred

Creator Wally: @bloodrediscream

Doodle Wally: @bloodrediscream

Haunted house Wally: @kamigui

Jazzercise Wally: @itskorrychang

Jousick Wally: @professorjake

(Twitter):

DBD! Wally: @j_demi_creates

Fresh Wally: @GRIMMUSSYPAKITA

Observer Wally: @neonross

Plugue! Wally: @vividg4l4ctica

Faceless Wally: @Angeladrewlol

Infected Wally: @Suketchi

Swan wally: @deadlyeyez_

SCP Wally: @dottavioartist

Fading memories Wally: @BlueTokomon

Cult of love: @NummyPumpkin

Homesnax: @KnifeRat

Faceless Wally:@Angeladrewlol

[agendabymooner]

ditty and estie greet the world || eo31 scenario

dad!esteban ocon x mom!ofc (british royal!ofc) ft. ocon!baby

POTENTIAL EXTENSION TO THE ROYAL RESEMBLANCE (SMAU)

Summary: Diana ‘Ditty’ Ocon made her presence known to the formula one world as a two year old during the FIA prize giving ceremony. Her sweetness, however, was what encouraged her parents Albertine and Esteban to show the world her capabilities as a shy toddler. 

Content warning: dad!Esteban content 😚, fluff, based on an idea I brought up to a moot, shitty French translation, Lissie Mackintosh segment, shy toddler being cheered on, OFC and baby resembles Princess Diana

Note: Having an Oscar Piastri brain rot atm but I need to get wholesome dad!F1 driver out of my system. I’m currently restraining my brain from writing more smut rn.

My friend would’ve gotten twenty dollars from me if Ferrari won this race but noooo they didn’t soooo. Enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

“Tu es très jolie, Ditty ! Maman t'a-t-elle habillée?” You look very pretty, Ditty! Did Mummy dress you up? 

“Mummy m'habille!” Mummy dress me! The little girl who sat on the Alpine driver’s lap grinned toothily at her father, babbling at her parents as she continued to speak, “Papa, rentre bientôt chez toi?” Go home soon? 

“Darling,” Albie laughed heartily, “Nous venons de quitter l'hôtel!” We just left the hotel.

“But go home soon?” Diana Marie-François Elisabeth Ocon-Khelfane, or Ditty to most, was a delightful little girl. Her great uncle Charles Spencer recalled his eldest sister’s childhood photos and how much resemblance did Ditty have to Princess Diana. Everyone in Esteban and Albertine’s family knew that, much like Albie, Ditty was a carbon copy of Diana Spencer.

Though if you were to ask anyone, Ditty was more like Diana than Albie was. Ditty was more reserved and shy— she had gotten her personality from Esteban, who often took a while to get used to new people before warming up to them. It was no wonder why Estie and Ditty made the bestest of friends— they liked to attach themselves to each other AND to Albie. 

“We’re not going home soon, pretty,” Albie told Ditty gently, fixing her daughter’s bow as the girl continued to look up with the brightest blue eyes to have ever existed. Her eyes, no matter how bright, were shaped like her father’s— so no one could really oppose and say that she wasn’t her father’s daughter. “Papa’s going to get his award soon, no? We’ll be there for Papa, Ditty.” 

“A- ‘wawd?” Ditty’s brows furrowed a little as she looked up at Estie with a puzzled look. “What is ‘ward?” 

“C'est quand vous avez fait quelque chose de vraiment, vraiment bien et que vous en obtenez quelque chose de bon,” It’s when you do something really really good that you get something good out of it. Esteban explained to Ditty with a grin. 

“Like you eating your veggies,” Estie continued. “What does Mummy give you?”

“Pain au choc’lat?” 

“Oui, mon bebe,” Estie nodded. “Except Papa’s getting something else. Not pain au chocolat!” 

Apparently, it was going to be a struggle— getting Ditty to socialize with everyone around them. It took Albie a while to unattach the toddler in her arms. 

Only for the girl to cling to Esteban as she hid her face away from the press and other people. She kept her hands wrapped around Estie’s neck as her blonde hair appeared in the pictures, journalists and photographers asking Estie and Albie to pose for the cameras. They didn’t relent, allowing Ditty to hide her little cherub face away for a brief moment as the couple waved and smiled. 

Albie, realizing that she had the little mouse plush on her hand (one that Ditty called ‘Cheese’), put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder gently and caught the toddler’s attention. “Want your friend Cheese, Dit?” 

Ditty lifted her face off her dad’s shoulder for a brief moment and nodded, “Mewci, Mummy,” before hiding away again. 

Estie and Albie exchanged looks and chuckled, amused at their daughter’s demeanour. 

“Ditty, bebe,” Estie told the girl, “Cheese wants to say hi to everyone. You want to wave too?” 

“Oh, I want to say hi, indeed, Papa!” Albie mimicked a different voice, as if she was pretending to be Cheese. “Pouvons-nous dire bonjour ensemble, Ditty?” Can we please say hi together, Ditty?

“See? He wants to wave— show him, like this—“ Estie smiled at the cameras and waved. Albie followed along, cameras flashing as they smiled. 

Slowly but surely, Ditty’s hand began to wave. She hadn’t realized that Cheese was on her hand, but she was doing what her Mummy and Papa were doing. That was enough for her. 

And when they reached the F1 host for the red carpet, Ditty went back to hiding. This time, she clutched Cheese in her hand as Esteban got interviewed by Lissie Mackintosh. 

“This is actually amazing— seeing you in P3 in the championship’s. I’m quite happy to see you become successful this season,” Lissie complimented Esteban. “Are you looking forward to the next one? Do you know what your next steps are?”

“I— I’m actually really excited for the next season,” Esteban grinned, not even aware that he’s carrying her daughter in his arms as he continued to answer. “With how things went with the car and successful communication between my team and I, I thought that it gave me more confidence to move on with the next season. And even if there will be a struggle, I know that we’ll be able to sort it out.”

“I like that,” Lissie nodded before she noticed the girl hiding away in Esteban’s arms. The host continued to ask regardless, “But for now you’re just here to celebrate your successes and you’ll be getting your prize for the P3. And I can tell that you’re here with your family too! How amazing is that!” 

“—Mrs. Albertine Ocon, it’s very nice to see you,” Lissie continued as the royal princess smiled and greeted back. “It’s been quite a handful this season, huh? I’m very glad to see you back in the Formula One celebrations and events— we’ve missed your presence in the paddock.”

“Ah yes,” the British princess chuckled, “just because I was gone for a while it didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything.” 

“We all know that,” Lissie rolled her eyes playfully. “You probably had been working harder than your husband in here!”

“Hey!” Esteban laughed alongside the two women before he nodded in agreement, “Well, I can’t really deny that! This little darling right here was a hard work made by Albie and me but… Albie’s done more to help her grow, you know?”

Speaking of the devil…

Ditty Ocon finally grew tired of hiding away as she lifted her head and looked in front of her, cowering under the watchful eyes and camera pointed at her and her family before she hid again.

Esteban chuckled and reassured, “No, no, it’s okay, bebe! Just wave! Like we did!” 

Ditty, feeling a bit hesitant, waved lightly and continued to clutch Cheese the mouse in her hand.

“You look absolutely beautiful!” Lissie complimented the girl with a grin, trying to be as chill to allow the girl to grow comfortable with her. “Can you tell us what your name is?” 

Ditty looked at her parents as she hid her face from everyone, earning soft chuckles and a series of ‘awww’ from her surroundings.

Everyone already knew that she was Princess Diana in the making with the shyness that she showed everyone. 

But Esteban and Albertine Ocon weren’t about to let her meekness get in the way of her opportunity to be friendly to others. 

Esteban started, “It’s okay if you want to speak French, mon ange.”

He looked back at Lissie, “She prefers talking to people in French first before English.”

“Ah,” Lissie nodded.

“It’s okay, darling,” Albie cooed quietly, tucking the girl’s hair behind her ears as the princess continued, “they're nice people. We talk to them.” 

“Can you say… ‘je’…” Esteban instructed his daughter.

Ditty, with all her capabilities at the moment, had mumbled to the microphone, “Je…”

“Suis…” 

“Su’…”

“…Ditty.”

“…D—tty,” the girl mumbled with lack of confidence.

“Je suis Ditty!” Esteban repeated with a grin, his smile infecting the girl as she enthusiastically repeated this time with, “Je suis Di-tty!” I am Ditty! 

Rounds of applause were heard and given as they applauded the girl’s words. Estie and Albie both grinned as they praised Ditty.

“Good job, my girl!” Albie exclaimed with a wide, supportive smile. 

“Très bon, bébé!” Very good, baby! Estie hyped up Ditty as he clapped his hands. 

Ditty looked around her and grinned, her little hands now clapping as she clapped for herself.

Yeah… she could get used to this. Maybe her meekness will grow and she’ll become a confident girl like her mother and grandmother were.

All she needed was to be provided with endless support. This was what Esteban and Albertine Ocon were here for.

[chezkazu]

Stuffed Portobello Mushroom

[gothushi]

Could you elaborate on the one look to make him kneel and him wanting to be slapped, please 👉👈 (thank you so much for sharing your thoughts by the way, oh my gosh!!💓💓)

writing submissive men is honestly my religion i’m more than happy to oblige🫶🏻🩷thank u!

cw: impact play (slapping), simon on his knees

Tonight’s been long, too long. You’ve sipped at your drink for an eternity now, just waiting for Simon to be done working the bar at Chez-Chez. Sat at a tall table in the corner of the room, you have a good view to keep your eyes on him. His own blues find your eyes plenty of times, giving you a wink, a cheeky smile or a smirk.

Another half hour later results in the rest of the patrons being told to leave, and as you pick at the polish on your nails standing outside the club Simon finally emerges with his coat tugged on, the late night air chilled from earlier rain.

“Hey sweetheart,” His hand finds yours, finger’s interlocking and his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. You tilt your head up to meet his lips in a little kiss before beginning the walk to your apartment.

Keys jingle in the lock as you enter, door clicking shut behind you both, shuffling as you both toe off your shoes, slip your coats from your shoulders and hang them up on the hook on the wall. Simon busies himself with moving to the living room, a tired yawn escaping him as he sets his phone down on the coffee table and collapses onto the couch with a groan. You, however, eye him from the kitchen, standing by the counter. Carefully removing your rings, letting the jewelry clatter onto the countertop as your hungry eyes roam over his body.

His legs are spread, a long sleeved blue shirt adorning his body. It’s simple, but he wears it so well, the thin fabric of his shirt clinging to his chest and tummy. He’s reclined back, head tilted against the couch with his eyes closed as he notices the silence. An eye peeks open, head tilting in your direction as he grins, “What’re you staring at, hm?”

A similar smile paints your lips, the last of the jewelry on your hands gone, and your hands find the buckle of your belt instead. Maintaining eye contact with Simon, you slide it from the buckle, slowly taking it from the loops on your jeans, “Somethin’ pretty, that’s all,” is the coy response he gets. You both stare at each other for a solid fifteen seconds, your eyes narrowing a bit, hungrily tracing down his torso, and that’s all it takes for him to slide off the couch onto the floor. Knees part, hands on his thighs, his heart already starting to beat a bit faster.

“Well look at you..” You sigh happily, bare feet meeting carpet as you walk over to him. You take his previous spot on the couch, spreading your legs apart for him to settle between. Simon shuffles closer, a hand finding your thigh that you retaliate with a quiet “ah ah,” and he moves it back to his own thigh. Color blooms high on his cheeks as he stares up at you, eyes softening with a dazed look as your hand combs into his hair, “So handsome, y’know that?”

A little smile finds his lips, making him look boyish, sweet, not the crude, revenge hungry cop you know. His eyes flutter as your nails drag over his scalp, and he gives a soft exhale in response, relaxing more before you. With his eyes closed, he doesn’t see you moving your leg, not until your shin presses against the growing bulge in his jeans. Dazed eyes open again, a soft gasp as his hips kick back a little at the touch. But you tsk, fingers curling into his hair in a gentle yet firm grasp, “Easy.. I just wanna play, don’t you?”

The way you speak, your tone so low yet casual, has him reeling. After a long day, it’s easy for him to allow you to take over. “Yeah, please? Will you make me feel good?” And oh, how cute, right?

“Of course honey, I always do. Go on, move, slow.” The order doesn’t fall on deaf ears, his knees parting further as he presses into your leg. His cock already aches, pleasure blooming in his gut as he grinds against your leg. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it won’t last long, not when he’s already starting to blush a pretty red and his hands hover in the air on either side of your leg, fighting the urge to grab on for support. Simon squirms a bit, your hand tightening in his hair which makes his lips part, jaw dropping as he huffs a little moan. The entire time your eyes are locked together, and eventually a whimper falls from him.

“Can I–..” He starts, pausing to swallow and exhale through his nose, “Can I undo my jeans?” And he asks so politely, you surely couldn’t say no.

“Go on,” You nod, allowing him to pause his needy grinding. He doesn’t even break eye contact as he undoes his own belt, not even taking it from the belt loops as his fingers skillfully undo his button and zipper, sitting up on his knees just enough to push them down his hips. Black boxers do little to hide just how fucking hard he is, a little wet spot on the fabric. He presses back to you, grinding his cock against your shin, and this time his hands find your leg, holding onto your calf for support as he exhales another moan.

As pretty as he is, the action of his hands on you is displeasing, “Hands off, I never said you could touch.” The sharp words make him actually whine, huffing a pitiful noise as his eyes roll a little, even as he removes his hands. But, that attitude, you seen it. Before he knows it, the hand is gone from his hair as your palm connects with his left cheek in a sharp slap.

“Ah–!” Simon’s head snaps to the side, eyes fluttering as his thighs squeeze around your leg. Pure heat blooms on his face as he feels his cock throb in his boxers, so embarrassed by how nice that felt. “Do that again. Please,” is the pathetic plea that follows, his knees spreading again to continue grinding needily like a mutt in heat.

A laugh sounds from your throat, and you grab his cheeks with your thumb and two fingers, squishing his cheeks a bit to force him to look up at you, “And why should I? You like me hitting you Simon?”

His face is flushed deep red with embarrassment and arousal, starting to pant a little. His whiny voice quickly starts to beg, “I said please. I like it. Please?” His hips press even faster, feeling his core muscles ache just the slightest, pretty puppy eyes looking up at him. And ugh, he’s just so sweet, so pliant with you. Your grasp on his face is gone, and his eyes fall lidded with lust just before you hit him again. The slap echoes in the apartment, as does the cry he emits as a result. His hips falter and then roll even faster, jaw dropping as he starts to moan with every exhale of his panting breath.

“Again?”

“Again.” He confirms, having trouble keeping his eyes open but oh, does he do his best for you.

“Can you handle it baby?”

“I can– fuck I can handle it. Please.” Soft brown hair falls forward as he drops his head for a second, lifting it back up as he nods quickly in confirmation. So, you swap hands, palm meeting his right cheek in a weak little hit, enough to produce a sharp noise but not enough to really hit the spot, figuratively and literally. “Harder,” he pleads, his hands curling into the denim at his hips, needing to hold onto something. That heat in his core is building, hurriedly grinding against your leg, humping pathetically as he’s already so close, his cock aches so badly it hurts, desperately searching relief.

Again, and again, your palm meets his cheek, the skin ruddy red and sensitive, hot with an embarrassed flush as he cries out. Once more, and he gasps, thighs squeezing your leg as he moans loudly. A tremor wracks through him as he orgasms, eyes fluttering and rolling back into his head. Simon feels your hand curl into his hair, jerking his head up harshly. The natural response is to reach up, move to grab your arm because it hurts, but he quickly pauses and puts his hands back down because he knows better.

He’s sat before you on his knees, panting hard, shaking a little as his core muscles burn, and his teary eyes blink open. “‘m sorry, I–“

He’s interrupted by a sharp slap, harder than the rest. He gasps, feeling his mouth and cock both drool a little and oh God is he embarrassed, but he loves it. “You little pervert, I’m not done with you.” You hand grabs his cheeks again, making him look up at you.

And the only response is a breathless laugh, a big grin on his face.

[lz-didyounotice]

Baking weekends : The oncomming 'flour' storm

This gif doesn't belong to me

Heyyy! How are you lots ? Long time no see right ? Been struggling a bit with writing for the past few days. Anyway! First time I write for 12th, so I hope to have got him right. This follows the series of the Baking week-ends. Hope you enjoy!

Froggit-

Warnings : English is not my first language. No warning  for this one, just pure fluff. Preestablished relationship.

Translations : “C’est qui le narvalo qui a bouffé tous mes cookies ??!! ” : Who’s the fool that ate all my cookies??!!  

“Comment ça va, la miss?”  : How are you, miss?

"Je suis chez moi" : Here I am

—----------------------

“C’est qui le narvalo qui a bouffé tous mes cookies??!! ” 

echoed an all too familiar voice from the TARDIS kitchen.

Glancing down at the last packet of biscuits he was consuming, the Doctor hurriedly stuffed the last one in his mouth, attempting to hide the disappearance of your last batch of cookies. 

For the past three weeks, he had been raiding your personal stash of sweets, snatching bits and pieces before stashing them away in his pockets.

Setting his book aside. The timelord found himself drawn to the chalkboard standing in front of him, a poor attempt at diversion for the inevitable confrontation. Unfortunately enough, he only had been half way through his writing when the gentle voice of his wife came around.

“Darling, did you eat my last cookies ?” Your voice, though soft, carried a subtle undertone that he couldn't quite decipher.

“If I did,  as in ‘if I hypothetically did’. Would I be in trouble ?”He ventured. Tiptoeing around the accusation.

Your smile made him more apprehensive, his back slowly pressing a bit more against the board. “Of course not! Why should I be angry? You didn’t eat them.”

It all seemed too easy, too rehearsed. You had to know. Of course, you did. The glint of mischief lurking behind every line of your face was unmistakable. Had he not witnessed it countless times before, he might have missed it entirely. “Anyway, ‘got a call from Clara, she needs my help to surprise her students.” 

Turning on your heel, you could practically feel the weight of the Doctor's gaze boring into the back of your head as you input Clara’s coordinates. With a few  pulls of levers and punching buttons, the TARDIS was nearly ready for departure. Glancing back at your husband, you decided to grant him the honor of pulling the final lever. 

With crumbs of cookies smudging the corners of his mouth, he looked at you like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. Suppressing a laugh, you let him roll his eyes before reaching for the lever. His brow furrowed as he observed your mischievous smile. “What's so funny?” Your grin widened, even eliciting a small snort. “Nothing, Darling…”

Before long, the TARDIS materialized at its destination. Snatching your leather jacket, you darted toward the door, leaving your husband to ponder the source of your laughter as you passed the threshold. Did he have something on his face? Checking the monitor for his reflection, his cheeks flared up as he used his sleeve to wipe away the dead giveaway.

—----------------------

It had been a long week for the brunette, yet she still had the courage to fulfill a promise she had made her students a while back. Putting out two aprons, the girl double-checked her supply of flour, ensuring she had enough for the multiple batches to be made that evening.

Just as she was about to take a mixing ball out, the familiar sound of the TARDIS reverberated through the room, accompanied by excited footsteps. “Clara ?”

“I’m in the kitchen!” She said, head still in the cupboard.

Coming around the kitchen’s door, you had the biggest smile on your face upon seeing her. “Comment ça va, la miss?” 

“I’m doing great ! Where’s the Doctor?” she inquired, turning to face you, a curious expression on her face. She hadn't heard him enter the apartment yet. “What have you done to him?”

Playing dumb, you stepped forward to join her, ready to lend a hand. “What have I done? Do you think I would harm my own beloved?” Despite your attempt to conceal your mischief, she shot you a skeptical look .“Okay, he ate my last batch of cookies…” 

“That’s all?” She scoffed “What? Not my fault if he was caught red handed.” You complained while taking a second ball out.

Chuckling softly, the brunette shook her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.” Sticking out your tongue, you finally laughed with her before standing up, the mixing ball finally found.

—----------------------

In no time, you had already begun making batches, “Je suis chez moi” blasting around the room. Making you both laugh as you danced around the kitchen, dough still sticking to your hands. 

But laughter soon became playful fighting threats, all orchestrated after you had attempted to reach the bag of flour in the upper cupboard. Unfortunately enough, even if you were taller than the brunette, your hand slipped, the white powder spreading everywhere. Including Clara’s hair.

“Oops- Sorry” You sheepishly excused yourself. 

Turning around to face you, Clara was clearly annoyed. Her black t-shirt now tainted white, she was already plotting for yours to turn the same color.

“Hum… I didn’t touch the dough did I ?”

—----------------------

The doctor had come worried about how much fun the two of you seemed to be having. Not that he didn’t feel included, you had tasked him to bake some of the batches in the TARDIS kitchen after all. As much as he found it childish, he couldn’t help but want to see you smile at him, as you proudly presented the TARDIS-shaped cookies. He was fascinated with how such simple things could have you beaming with so much joy.

Finally taking the last batch of cookies out of the oven, he put them to cool down on the aisle. And as he closed the heat inducing contraption, the sound of war cries came from outside.

“Pudding brains” He muttered, running out of the box with a slightly annoyed look. Taking the first door, the kitchen was the second line of action. And as he opened it, he was welcomed with both of his companions covered in white powder, laughing their asses off trying to get the other to stop the carnage. 

Taken in the crossfire, the doctor could only stand in the doorway, and try to stop the two warriors. Unfortunately enough, his voice wasn’t as loud as the music, overshadowed by the manic laughter of the two girls, too concentrated on throwing whatever ingredients came their way.

And what was bound to happen, happened. All it took was for Clara to dodge the icing sugar, letting the sweet powder cover half of the Doctor's coat. Your eyes bore an horrified look as you traced the form in the middle of the doorframe.

“Clara…? Keep absolutely still, his vision is based on movement-” You sheepishly let out trying not to laugh at the very crossed face of your husband.

“Now that’s just insulting sweetie.” And yet all you could do was give him a small smile.

—----------------------

After what seemed to be like a day of cleaning, Clara’s kitchen was finally in order. The dough had been stored in the fridge for now, being the only thing saved from this carnage. 

“My back-” You complained as you finally got up from the floor. Bending the other way around to release the pressure, you heard your back pop in a satisfying manner. “That’s more like it.”

“Please, make me remember to not let you grab the flour next time.” Insisted Clara as she washed the now watered down flour, off her sponge.

“Oh come on, it was fun-” You let out while whipping off the excess water on the aisle.

“ ‘Could have been spared from it-” Commented the grumpy man now seated in the hallway. 

“I've had enough with one grumpy sister, Dear. I don’t need a Scottish husband into the mix-” You let out without  much mind. 

“-Sister?” Clara seemed surprised by your statement. Yet you decided not to pick on it, and put out the stored dough to make new cookies.  This time, Clara,  being in charge of the flour.

“Let’s make the last few batches. We still need to surprise your classroom now don’t we?” 

—----------------------

After this little “incident”, everything went rather smoothly. With five more boxes of biscuits on the counter, you had enough to live on it for the next two months. At least you were hoping. With your husband roaming the TARDIS, you could count maybe two weeks before two of the boxes disappeared. 

As much as the doctor wanted to take Clara on an adventure after such a “Boring” day, you had insisted for him to let the girl sleep before trying to make her run from aliens again. She still needed to teach the next day, and your little session had been quite an eventful one.

That left you and the doctor alone in the TARDIS, the Doctor still covered in flour. You would have supposed he would have changed by now, yet here he was, still in his whitened coat. 

Sighing, you came closer to his side, your hand stretched out for him to hand over his  precious coat. “Come on, hand it over, it needs a wash.”  

“I can do it, you know ?”

“Hand it-” You insisted.

After looking at your hands for a good minute, he finally gave in. “Fine…” Signing the Doctor gave you the coat, leaving him in his white shirt and matching vest. 

Quickly you disappeared in the wardrobe, handing over the coat to the TARDIS’s pressing. Landing her a compliment, you got back to the console room, and quitted your own leather jacket before wrapping it over the doctor's shoulders. “Here, you can have mine for the time being.” 

A small smile drew itself on the Doctor’s lips. Your caring attitude, making his hearts flutter with thousands of butterflies. Smiling back at him, you scooted over as much as you could, taking his pinky finger with yours in a caring manner.

Always so caring. The soft and smooth touch of your hand made him realize how old his was. If he was being honest, he hated being so old, yet you almost made it bearable. He always was questioning why you stayed with him looking this gray, and being so grumpy. Yet the three rings on your fingers told him you would follow everywhere he would. Support him through whatever was to come.

You, (Y/N), the infinite girl. His infinite girl. His everything.

—----------------------

Bonus : 

When he emerged around the console in the morning, he was still clad in your jacket. Despite the fact that the TARDIS had hung his own in the room you both shared, he had made an exception for today. Oddly enough, you had risen from bed before him. You had left your coat, leaving him to speculate that you were probably wearing one of your favorite hoodies.

“Hello, my little thief,” you greeted from the top floor. You were hunched over small scraps of paper, diligently piecing something together.

“What are you making?” the Doctor inquired, intrigued by your latest project.

“A keepsake for Clara,” you replied, without looking up from your work.

“Why?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s her birthday next week,” you finally looked up at him, and from his expression, he clearly had forgotten. “You forgot, didn't you?”

Attempting to play it off, he quickly realized that with you, there was no use in pretending. “Scoot over.”

“Thought you were not the crafty one,” you teased, making room for him beside you.

“Surprise then,” he quipped, grabbing the glue stick.

Laughing softly, you bumped shoulders, working together to create the perfect collage of all your adventures with Clara. Occasionally, you glanced over at his concentrated frown, finding amusement in his determination.

Planting a kiss on his cheek, you thanked him for his help before returning to search for the perfect photos. His neck flushed up to the tips of his ears, his hearts fluttering in his chest at your affectionate gesture.

[astrcmoni]

✧ billie eilish-

key → fluff -☆ angst- ✦ smut- ⏾ mix - ᯓ

fics:

★ ੈ✩‧₊˚ avec toi, je suis chez moi ੈ✩₊˚

★ say you trust my loveᯓ★

→ synopsis: In the quiet tension of a rainy evening, you and Billie navigate the fragile cracks in your relationship, her unspoken fears and your quiet persistence threatening to collide. Through tender words and honest vulnerability, you begin to bridge the emotional distance, proving that love—yours and hers—is worth the effort. — ᯓ

★ ⁖✦ ˖ flicker of light ˖ ✦⁖ —

→ synopsis: Two years after a devastating breakup, you unexpectedly cross paths with Billie, the ex who shattered your heart, at a crowded party. As the night unravels, unresolved emotions, lingering tension, and unspoken truths collide, forcing you to confront the love and pain that still bind you. — ✦

★ ⊹₊ ⋆ loved by you⋆ ₊⊹

→ synopsis: you come home after a long day out and noticed that your girlfriend seems a little stiff and frustrated, you take it upon yourself to bring her to relaxation…amongst other things. — ᯓ

★ ℘ ࣪₊ bleeding blue ࣪₊ ㅤㅤ℘

→ synopsis: after destroying her hair, billie turns to you, her fiancé, in hopes of you being able to fix it. — ☆

★ ೃ❀࿔ sweet surrender ೃ❀࿔

→ synopsis: so…basically you and billie fuck, but like sweetly.

series-

✮⋆˙⭒NIGHTS LIKE THIS✮⋆˙⭒-

→ In where a girl left with the feeling of the world weighing on her shoulders at the mere age of 20 meets someone who makes her finally feel seen. or in which an artist goes to her first car show and leaves enamoured with the racing life and the queen of the tracks. | (on indefinite hiatus)

headcanons:

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