#chocolate navel oranges

[stenoodie]

Flashfood Hauls in January 2024

Flashfood Hauls in January 2024. #newlogo #iswalmartjoiningyet #thebigsandwich #eggs!

Flashfood’s newest logo in January 2024 New year, new look for Flashfood! Flashfood unveiled their newest logo for their discounted food service (buying items about to pass its “best before date” at savings of 50% off).  I liked their previous logo with the lightning symbol and groceries.  This one doesn’t look so unique (it blends into the other icons on my phone).  Some people say it looks like…

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Dieter and Emily spend Christmas with his brother’s family.

Word count: 7000+

Rating: PG all the way

Notes: I’ve never been to Vermont. The Christmas Market on Church Street in Burlington is real but all I know about it is what I saw on a quick Google search. Logan’s Candy in Ontario, CA is real, and so is the Parent Navel Orange Tree in Riverside. Everything else is made up.

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites @weho2kcmo

Vermont was cold. I’d been to Big Bear during the winter, so I thought I knew what cold was, but I was wrong. California cold, even in the mountains, is nothing compared to New England cold. I huddled in the puffy coat Dieter had ordered for me as I scanned the line of cars in the pick up line at Burlington International. A blue Jeep Cherokee, Dieter had said, but there were so many SUVs and it was snowing lightly, so I had a hard time. Then I saw a familiar face hanging out of a passenger side window. 

“Emily! Over here!” He waved his arm frantically, as if I wouldn’t notice him after he bellowed my name.

He hopped out and opened the back door for me. “Quick, get in out of the cold,” he said, taking my luggage around to the back. I slid into the back seat of the blessedly warm Jeep. 

“You must be Freddy,” I said to the driver.

”And you have to be Emily,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to Vermont.” He was definitely Dieter’s brother; they had the same warm brown eyes and strong nose, but Freddy was clean-shaven, his hair neatly trimmed in a conservative cut, and the only piece of jewelry he wore was a simple gold wedding band. And his care was immaculately clean. Dieter’s car always had a few empty water bottles, Kit Kat wrappers and stray bits of clothing rattling around in it, plus an assortment of scripts and paperwork that he hadn’t gotten around to taking inside yet. 

Dieter slammed the tailgate and dashed back into the car. “I always forget how fucking cold it gets here,” he said as he fumbled with his seatbelt. “You’re insane for living here.”

Freddy shrugged. “You get used to it. You’re just spoiled by that L.A. weather.”

Dieter twisted around in his seat to look at me. “You should have heard him the first winter after they moved here,” he said with a grin. “You look great, by the way.”

”I’m bundled up in this giant coat,” I replied. “You can barely see me.”

“I can see your face,” Dieter said. “And I missed it.”

”I missed you, too.” He’d been away filming most of the time since our Thanksgiving getaway. The shoot was in Toronto and he’d only been able to fly home for one weekend because of some delays on set due to weather and other complications. 

Freddy pulled out into the Christmas Eve morning traffic. The airport was busy but not as crazy as LAX had been. Thank goodness for the airport shuttle, or I would never have made my flight in time. ”I hope I didn’t mess up your holiday plans too much,” I said. “Having to pick someone up at the airport is hassle enough, let alone on Christmas Eve.”

Freddy shrugged again. “Leila and the kids are busy baking, so I usually get banished to the living room anyway. And this one took a cab last night so I didn’t have to make two trips.”

“I am a very thoughtful brother,” Dieter said.

Freddy snorted. “I consider it a Christmas miracle.”

Dieter shoved his arm and Freddy poked him back with his elbow. Yeah, they were definitely brothers.

*********************************************************************

Freddy lived just outside Burlington so it wasn’t a long drive to his house. I couldn’t help but gawk at the snow. Everything looked like a Hallmark card. 

“So we thought we’d take you guys down to Church Street this evening for the Christmas Market,” Freddy said as we turned down his street. “We went last week, but the kids don’t mind going again.” He chuckled. “Anytime they can have hot chocolate and donuts for dinner they’re happy.”

”Hot chocolate sounds amazing,” I said. “I might need an intravenous drip.”

”Don’t worry, babe, I’ll keep you warm,” Dieter said. “Bet you’re glad I bought you that coat now.”  We’d had a bit of an argument over the coat. I’d told him I didn’t need such a fancy one, since I’d only be using it for a few days, but he insisted I’d freeze without it and we compromised by agreeing I could donate it to a women’s shelter before I flew home.

“I am,” I said. “You were right … this time.”

Freddy laughed. “That’s the way, keep his ego in check.”

We pulled up outside a two story middle class house decked out with strings of Christmas lights and a large plastic Santa on the lawn. “Ignore that,” Freddy said, gesturing toward the Santa, which was a bit faded and listing to one side. “He’s been in Leila’s family for ages and the kids won’t let us get rid of it. ‘But Dad, it’s tradition!’”

”I like it,” I said. “He fits in with all the snow. And traditions are important when you’re a kid.”

Dieter and Freddy exchanged a look and I knew I’d touched a nerve. Dieter hadn’t told me a lot about his childhood, but I knew enough to know that their mom hadn’t exactly been June Cleaver. 

Freddy opened the door and we stepped into the house, which smelled like Santa’s workshop. Sugar, cinnamon, and cloves mixed with the scent of the six foot tall fir tree in the living room. My family had never had a real tree; my dad kept repairing the old artificial tree they’d bought when I was a year old and Mom and I had used it until she died, even though by that time it had shed a quarter of its needles and had to be carefully situated to hide the bald spot where one of the branches was missing. 

“Uncle Dieter!” The kids came barreling toward us and collided with Dieter. Derek was twelve and Sasha was almost fourteen. Both were wearing silly aprons with elves on them. 

“Hey, kiddos,” Dieter laughed, trying to hug both of them at the same time. “You just saw me like an hour ago.”

”We know,” Derek said. “But it’s funny.” He had the same glint in his eye that Dieter got when he had one of his “brilliant” ideas. 

“And it’s not like we could run up and hug Emily or anything,” Sasha said. She seemed a bit more reserved than her brother.

”Why not?” Dieter said. “She’s very huggable.” He demonstrated by squeezing me in his arms.

”At least let me take my coat off first,” I managed to say once I could breathe again. “And introduce me properly.”

”Kids, this is Emily,” Dieter said. “Emily, the kids.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “I’m Sasha,” she said, holding out her hand. “And this is Derek.”

I shook their hands. “Very nice to meet you both,” I said. “Your uncle has told me all about you.”

”All we know about you is that Uncle Deet thinks you hung the moon,” Derek said. Sasha swatted at him. “That’s what Dad said,” Derek protested. 

“True, but that doesn’t mean you need to say it in front of her.” Leila came into the room, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. She was about my height and build. It seemed the Bravo brothers had a type. ”I’m Leila, by the way. And we are so happy to finally meet you.” She handed the towel to Sasha and hugged me warmly. “It’s good to see Dieter happy,” she whispered in my ear. “Thank you for that.”

”Now let’s get back to the kitchen before that batch of cookies burns,” Leila said briskly. “And let Emily get settled. We’ll have plenty of time to chat over lunch.”

Dieter carried my bags up the stairs. “We’re in the guest room,” he said. “Which is way better than the couch I used to crash on in that apartment Freddy and Leila had before he got the promotion.”

”You loved that couch,” Freddy called up the stairs. “As I recall, you even named it. Marlene, wasn’t it?”

”He’s full of shit,” Dieter said, shaking his head. “It was Maria. Because it was a problem. Like the song in ‘The Sound of Music.’”

”You are such a theater nerd.”

”I tried out for my high school production but I can’t sing to save my life,” he said. “Ended up being on the stage crew. And after that I vowed I’d never work on another play unless I was in the cast. The crew has to work too hard.”

******************************************************************

The day flew by. After I’d stashed my luggage, I joined Leila and the kids in the kitchen while Dieter and Freddy caught up in front of the TV. “I know it’s a total stereotype but that man is absolutely no use in the kitchen,” Leila told me as she handed me an apron. 

“Dieter’s not much better,” I said. “He can cook if he has to, but he’s lazy about cleaning up after himself.”

”Freddy burned water once,” Leila said. “Put a pot on to boil for pasta, forgot about it and it boiled dry. Scorched the bottom of one of my best pots.”

”Mom banned him from the kitchen after that,” Sasha added. 

I helped the kids decorate the sugar cookies and gingerbread men that had already come out of the oven while Leila finished cutting out and baking the last batch. “We’ve got time for one more kind of cookie before I have to start lunch,” she said. “Is there anything special you’d like to make, Emily? Something from your family? We already did the spritz cookies that my grandma used to make.”

”Do you have walnuts and powdered sugar? My mom always made snowballs. The cookbook calls them Russian tea cakes or Mexican wedding cakes, but her grandma called them snowballs.”

”We have that in our cookbook,” Derek said. “I saw it.” He pulled out a battered old Betty Crocker that looked a lot like the one my mom had used.

”Then snowballs it is,” Leila said. 

While we mixed up the dough, the kids asked questions about my family traditions. They were shocked when I admitted I’d never celebrated a white Christmas or had a real tree. When I told them about the year I’d gotten a sweatsuit and a bunch of nice sweaters and it ended up being 80 degrees on Christmas Day and I had to wear a t-shirt to Grandma’s house, they thought I was teasing.

“No, seriously,” I said as I rolled the dough into balls and passed them to Derek to be placed on the cookie sheets. “I wanted to wear my new clothes so bad but it was too hot. Grandma had to turn the air conditioning on because the house got so warm from roasting the turkey.”

”Well, we’ll show you how to do Christmas the New England way,” Sasha said. “We can build a snowman and go sledding and have a snowball fight.”

”But don’t let Dad and Uncle Deet play,” Derek said. “They get too competitive. Last year I got beaned right in the face and Dad just told me to walk it off.”

When the cookies were ready for the oven, Leila shooed us out of the kitchen. “I won’t let them burn,” she promised. “But I need you all out of my way while I fix some lunch.”

We joined Dieter and Freddy in the living room, where they were watching the “A Christmas Story” marathon. We all squished onto the couch together, with me sandwiched between Dieter and Sasha. 

“You smell delicious,” Dieter said. “Like butter and sugar.” He ventured a kiss on my jawbone, but I elbowed him.

”Not in front of the kids,” I hissed.

Ralphie’s dad had just received the Major Award when Leila called us to the dining room. Lunch was tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which brought back memories of sick days on the couch watching “The Price is Right” when I was a kid. As I looked around the table, I felt a wave of homesickness. I remembered meals with my parents when I was young, when we laughed and teased each other like Freddy and his kids did. 

Dieter must have sensed my melancholy, because he reached out and squeezed my hand, his eyes concerned. I smiled at him and shook my head slightly to let him know I was okay. He winked and turned back to his soup, but slid his foot closer, tapping his shoe against my boot. He didn’t always know what to do, but he was always tuned into my moods. He claimed it was because the vibrations of our souls were compatible, and I wasn’t sure if he really believed it or was bullshitting me. Either way, it was comforting to know that he was always there for me.

***********************************

After lunch the kids insisted I go outside with them to build a snowman. 

“She’s probably tired from the flight,” Leila said, but Derek starting singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman” from Frozen and there was no way I could turn him down.

It was still snowing very lightly and I was so bundled up in my puffy coat and a borrowed beanie and mittens that I could hardly move. My boots weren’t as waterproof as they looked and soon my feet were frozen but I gamely helped the kids roll the snow in the front yard into a ball.

”This is hard work,” I managed to say. My glasses were fogging up from my breath and I couldn’t see very well.

”That’s why we made so many cookies,” Derek said with a grin. “We burn up so many calories out here.”

”Yeah, that’s just your excuse for eating more than your share,” Sasha said. 

They started bickering and I took advantage of the momentary lull in snowman construction to rest a bit. I was out of breath and simultaneously sweating and frozen. It was wonderful.

”Merry Christmas!” A voice rang out and we turned to see a woman in a stylish ski outfit carrying a plate wrapped in foil.

Sasha groaned. “It’s Ms. Baker,” she said. “Our neighbor who mysteriously shows up every time Uncle Dieter’s visiting.”

Derek got that look in his eyes that I recognized all too well from his uncle. “Hey, Ms. Baker,” he called out. “Merry Christmas!”

”You guys making a snowman? How cute! I brought a rum cake for your parents.” She stared at me, clearly trying to figure out if she knew who I was. “Who’s your friend?”

”Oh, this is Aunt Emily, Uncle Dieter’s girlfriend,” Derek said with a cherubic smile. “They just flew in for the holiday. She’s from California and she’s never made a snowman before.”

Ms. Baker’s eyes narrowed. “Nice to meet you,” she said stiffly. “So, your uncle’s here? Good thing I made a big cake. I know how much he likes my rum cake.”

”Oh, but Uncle Dieter’s sober now,” Derek said with mock concern. “He won’t want any rum cake, will he, Aunt Emily?”

It took every fiber of my being to keep from laughing. The kid was good.

”A slice of rum cake isn’t the same as having a drink, though,” Sasha chimed in. 

“Right, Aunt Emily? I mean, Mom and Dad let me have a little sliver last year.”

”We’ll have to ask Deet,” I said, silently thanking Sasha for giving me an extra few seconds to compose myself. “But even if he can’t have any, I can,”

Ms. Baker smiled tightly. “Well, you kids get back to your snowman. I’ll just go inside now.”

As soon as she was inside the house, the kids started giggling. “That was hilarious,” Derek said. “She always shows up and tries to flirt with Deet.”

”The look on her face when we said ‘Aunt Emily,’” said Sasha. “Oh, it was okay that we did that, right? It was just to mess with her. If you don’t want us to …”

”It’s fine,” I assured her. “And did your parents really let you eat rum cake last year?”

”Yeah,” she said, making a face. “It was kind of gross. But that might be because Ms. Baker does not live up to her name.”

Derek laughed so hard he fell over. When he had recovered, we got back to work on the snowman. My feet were blocks of ice but I was happier outside with the kids than going inside and pretending to be nice to Ms. Baker.

******************************************

We finally got the snowman finished and I went inside to get my phone so we could take a picture. Ms. Baker had left in a hurry, hardly speaking to us as she passed. 

“What did you say to her?” I asked Dieter as I headed back outside.

”Who?”

”Ms. Baker.”

Dieter smiled, the same glint in his eye that I’d seen from Derek. “Oh, just mentioned I had a very special gift for you that I wanted to give you surrounded by my family.”

”You’re terrible,” I said. 

“Freddy didn’t help,” Leila chimed in. “Dropping hints about ringing in the New Year in style.”

”I hate her rum cake,” Freddy said. “Tastes like stale pound cake soaked in rubbing alcohol. Maybe if she realizes Dieter’s not interested in her she’ll stop bringing us one every year.”

”Tell the kids they have twenty minutes and then they need to get their butts inside to change,” Leila said. “We’re leaving for the Christmas Market at three so we can get decent parking.”

******************************************************

The Market was amazing, like something out of a Hallmark movie. Lights twinkled, music filled the air and shop windows glowed with charming displays. We stopped at a stall that sold hot chocolate while Freddy fetched a dozen freshly made apple cider donuts from another stall nearby. 

“Best. Dinner. Ever,” Derek declared around a mouthful of donut. 

“Worst. Manners. Ever,” Freddy said, raising an eyebrow.

Sasha and Leila were whispering to each other and stealing glances my way. Dieter was absorbed in his own donut, making those weird little noises he always made when he ate something he really liked. I looked up at the darkening sky and watched the snowflakes spiral down. 

“So …,” Leila said. “Sasha has an idea.”

”Um, I think … Emily should get an ornament for the tree,” Sasha mumbled.

”Yeah!” Derek cried. “She totally should.”

Freddy looked at Dieter, who came slowly back from wherever it was he went when he was savoring something. “What?”

”The kids think Emily should pick out an ornament for the tree,” Freddy said slowly. 

Dieter’s eyes went wide. “You sure?”

”Yeah,” said Freddy. “I think it’s a good idea.”

”What’s going on?” I asked. Everyone seemed to be extremely concerned about the idea of me buying an ornament.

”Everyone has a special ornament that they put on the tree on Christmas Eve,” Dieter said. “Freddy and Leila and Sasha and Derek … and me. I only put mine on when I’m here for Christmas. It’s kind of a family tradition.”

”And you want me to get one, too.”

”Yeah,” said Sasha, biting at her lower lip.

I looked at Dieter, who was making puppy dog eyes at me. “Okay,” I said, feeling like I was agreeing to a lot more than just choosing a bauble for the tree.

Sasha and Derek dragged me to a booth that was hung with hand blown glass ornaments in all kinds of fancy shapes. “I have a soccer ball,” Derek said. “You have to pick something that’s important to you. Deet has a rubber ducky because he says he had one when he was little.”

”Dad wouldn’t let him buy the weed one,” Sasha explained. 

I was fairly certain the rubber duck was not a fond childhood memory, because Dieter had once told me a rather off color story when he was still indulging in alcohol that I wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t true, but I didn’t think the kids needed to know that. I browsed the ornaments before settling on a sparkly orange wedge.

”An orange?” Derek asked. 

“Where I live used to be famous for growing oranges,” I told him. “The original navel orange tree is in a protected enclosure in Riverside. It’s kind of a landmark. And there’s a historical park all about citrus fruits out there, too. Plus my mom said her grandma always told her a story about how her mother got her first orange in a Christmas stocking.”

”That’s pretty cool,” said Sasha, although Derek didn’t seem to agree. I paid for the ornament and the shopkeeper carefully wrapped it in tissue and packed it into a cardboard box with a picture of a reindeer on it.

We rejoined Dieter, Freddy and Leila and continued walking down the street. Suddenly Sasha and Derek started giggling and pointed up. 

“What?,” said Dieter, looking around.

”Mistletoe!,” the kids cried out. Sure enough, there was a big bunch of mistletoe tied to the awning above us.

Dieter winked at me and slid his arms around me, dipping me slightly. “Got to give the kids what they want,” he said before kissing me very thoroughly. Finally, Freddy tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Remember, you’re in public,” he said.

Dieter laughed and although he was wearing mittens, I was pretty sure he flipped his brother the bird as he stepped back from me. “They shouldn’t hang that stuff on the street, then,” he said. “I’m just saying.”

Freddy shook his head. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

****************************************************

By the time we got back to the house, it was snowing steadily. Freddy turned on all the lights in the living room while Leila fetched a green storage container with a red lid. “Okay, time for the ornaments and stockings!,” she said.

Freddy went first, hanging his old school typewriter; then Leila hung up her panda bear. Next came Sasha’s owl and Derek’s soccer ball, followed by Dieter’s rubber duck. Finally, I unpacked my orange slice and found an unobtrusive spot around the side.

Then Leila passed out the stockings, which were bright red felt and appliquéd with snowflakes and little trees. A handwritten tag hung from the loop of each one with the owner’s name in perfect calligraphy — including one that said “Emily.”

”Oh, you didn’t have to,” I protested as I looked at my brand-new stocking. The others were well worn and had clearly seen many Christmases.

”Yes, I did,” Leila said. “How else would Santa know you’re here?” She winked and both kids rolled their eyes.

I hadn’t hung a stocking since I was ten years old, when I’d declared that stockings were for “little kids.” I felt a lump in my throat as I placed mine on the hook next to Dieter’s. 

“And now …” Freddy said, pulling out a box of matches. He carefully lit the candles on the mantel and a few others spaced around the room, then Derek flipped off the lights. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the tree lights and candles. Leila started a playlist of old-school holiday songs on the sound system and we all settled down. Freddy and Leila took the couch, the kids curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, and Dieter pulled me into the overstuffed armchair to the side. It wasn’t quite big enough for two, so I ended up mostly in his lap.

”Are you sure?” I whispered, nodding toward the kids.

Dieter just tilted his head toward Freddy and Leila, who were snuggled up on the couch, her head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. “It’s tradition,” Dieter whispered back.

We listened to Nat King Cole and Frank Sinatra for a few songs, then Freddy started telling a story about the year he was seven and Dieter was five and they found out their next door neighbors were Jewish and the kids got eight nights worth of presents instead of just one morning. Leila followed with the story of how her aunt decided she was going to make Christmas dinner instead of her mom and the turkey wasn’t cooked all the way through and everyone ended up making an excuse to leave early and they all ended up at McDonald’s.

“Tell the one about the air conditioning, Emily,” Derek said when he’d finished his own story about the year he thought he was only getting clothes because Sasha had convinced him that his letter to Santa had gotten lost on the way to the North Pole due to an elvish postal workers’ strike. “Dad didn’t hear it yet.”

Then it was Dieter’s turn. “My story is kind of boring,” he said. “It’s about my best Christmas ever and I’m not sure how it ends because it’s happening right now.” He squeezed me tightly. “I’m one hundred percent sober and I’m surrounded by all my favorite people and it’s snowing. You can’t get more perfect than that.”

”Doesn’t count,” Derek piped up. “You’re supposed to tell a funny one.”

”It just has to be memorable,” Freddy said. “And I think we’re all going to remember this one for a long time.”

”Yeah, it’s the first one with Emily,” said Sasha. 

I felt tears in my eyes for the umpteenth time that day. How was it possible that I felt more at home with these people I’d just met than I ever did with my blood relatives? “Thanks, everyone,” I managed to say. “I’ll definitely remember this Christmas for the rest of my life.”

The clock on the mantel chimed nine and Leila clapped her hands. “Okay, kiddos, time for bed. Pajamas, teeth brushed and ready for tucking in by nine thirty.”

Both kids groaned. “Mom, we’re not five anymore,” Derek said.

”I know, but I need time to play Santa’s helper before I get to bed,” Leila said, “and you know you’ll both be up at the crack of dawn begging us to let you open presents. Besides, it’s tradition.”

Dieter yawned and stretched his arms wide. “I’m kind of tired myself,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

Freddy shook his head. “Oh, get out of here. I know you just want to get out of helping.”

”I’m a guest,” Dieter said primly. “So is Emily.”

”You’re a freeloader,” replied Freddy. “But it’s Christmas. Consider it your present from me.”

Dieter wiggled out from under me and then helped me up. “Come on, let’s get upstairs before he changes his mind.”

As I unpacked my nightshirt, I remembered something. “I’ll be right back,” I said, grabbing a small box out of my luggage and trotting back downstairs. The lights were back on and Leila was already working on the stockings while Freddy was cursing in the hall closet as he pulled out presents from their hiding places.

”Here,” I told Leila, handing her the box. “I almost forgot. You can put these in the stockings. They’re handmade candy canes from a candy shop back home. They make them with real sugar and premium peppermint oil. I got a dozen, so we can each have two.” I didn’t keep up many holiday traditions anymore, but a trip to Logan’s Candy in Ontario was always on my list. Their canes were the best in the world.

”Thank you,” Leila said. “They look delicious!”

”Do you need any help?”

”No, you get back upstairs to Dieter,” she said. “Freddy and I are old hands at this. And I wasn’t joking about the kids being awake at the ass crack of dawn. You’ll be glad we all went to bed early.”

Dieter was already in bed when I got back to our room. I quickly changed into my sleep shirt and dove under the covers. Despite the heater, the house was chilly.

”Your feet are frozen!” Dieter gasped, pulling away from me.

I snuggled closer. “So help me warm them up,” I said. The man was like my own private furnace, which was good at times like this. In the summer, not so much. I tucked my feet between his calves and he pretended to shiver.

”Blocks of ice,” he muttered. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“Then why are you kissing my neck?”

”Because you still smell like cookies,” he said. “And I haven’t seen you in ages.” His hands worked their way underneath my sleep shirt.

”Whoa, hold on,” I said. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. And the kids are right down the hall.”

Dieter snorted. “First of all, you aren’t any more religious than I am. And second of all, I’m sure Freddy and Leila do it all the time with the kids in the house.”

”Still, it feels sacrilegious.”

”It feels naughty,” Dieter corrected me. “And I don’t know about you, but the idea of Santa Claus watching us is kind of turning me on.”

”Eww!” 

“He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness’ sake,” Dieter crooned off key, followed by a trail of kisses down my throat. “Be good for me, baby. Let me unwrap this gift a little early.”

”Well, you have been a good boy lately,” I said. “Just try to be quiet for once.”

”So you want a silent night?”

”Shut up and kiss me, Dieter.”

**************************************************************

It was still dark when our bedroom door flew open and something large crashed onto our feet. “Merry Christmas!” Derek cried. 

“You are so rude,” Sasha said from the doorway. “Get off them.” We all sat up, blinking at the overhead light that Sasha had flicked on. “What if they were naked?”

“Why would they be naked … ohhh!” Derek scrambled off the bed. “Gross! They’re Mom and Dad’s age.”

”Mom and Dad still do it,” Sasha said. 

Derek made gagging noises. “That is not the image I want in my head on Christmas morning, Sash.”

”Okay, okay, we’re all up,” Freddy yawned from the hallway. “Give us a minute to use the facilities and we’ll go downstairs.”

”Yay!” Derek dashed out of the room while Sasha shook her head. 

“Sorry about him,” she said. “He’s such a little kid sometimes.”

Freddy tousled her hair. “O wise and solemn adult, why don’t you put a robe on over your Hello Kitty pajamas so you don’t freeze?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dad.”

Dieter was already shrugging into his beloved green bathrobe, which was starting to get bald in spots, but which he refused to replace because it was comfortable. “Yeah, Freddy, don’t be such a dad.”

”You stop talking, or you won’t get any pancakes,” Freddy said.

Dieter mimed zipping his lips and tossed my robe at me. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom and a cursory brushing of teeth, we all trooped down to the living room, where a pile of presents had appeared underneath the tree and our stockings were bulging with treats. 

“You really didn’t have to,” I told Leila as she handed me my stocking.

”And have you sit there without anything while we all dive in? No way.”

My candy canes were at the top, but underneath were chocolates, a tube of hand cream, a glass nail file, and a few other trinkets. “Just some fun girl stuff,” Leila explained. “Sasha’s a bit too old for toys but every woman enjoys a mini spa day.”

“Presents!” Derek said after he’d dumped out the contents of his stocking. “Time for presents!”

I curled up on the couch next to Dieter while the kids tore into their gifts. Dieter had had his shipped straight to the house for Freddy and Leila to wrap, so he was as excited to see them as the kids were.

”No way!” Derek cried as he unwrapped a massive Lego set of the Millenium Falcon. “Thank you, Uncle Deet!”

Sasha squealed as she opened a brand new iPad mini. “This is exactly the one I wanted. Thanks, Uncle Deet!”

Dieter was grinning from ear to ear as both kids danced around. 

“You’re spoiling them,” Freddy said.

”I’m their rich uncle. I’m allowed.”

After the kids finished opening their presents, we all got dressed and Leila made pancakes for breakfast. Mountains of pancakes with real maple syrup. Dieter and Freddy got into a pancake eating contest that ended only when Dieter was forced to concede because Derek had taken the last one and Leila refused to make any more.

“I need to get the turkey in the slow cooker if we want to have dinner tonight,” she said when Dieter tried to wheedle just one more pancake out of her.

”I bet if Freddy needed one more pancake to win you’d make it,” Dieter whined.

”No, she wouldn’t,” Freddy said, carefully cutting up his final — winning — pancake. “But tell you what, since you are my brother and it’s Christmas … you can have half and we’ll call it a tie.” He counted the pieces on his plate and slid exactly half of them onto Dieter’s plate.

”And the winners get to do the dishes!” Leila said as soon as their plates were clean. Both men groaned, but cleared the table with a minimum of grumbling.

”What can I do to help?” I asked. 

“Nothing,” replied Leila. “Which is what I’m going to be doing as soon as I get that bird in the roaster.”

”Help me with my Lego,” Derek said.

”No, help me set up my iPad,” Sasha offered.

”How about if she supervises you both until we get done in the kitchen,” Freddy said. “I want to work on that Lego, too.”

”Me three!” Dieter chimed in.

Soon we were all back in the living room, the boys on the floor sorting Lego pieces and arguing over whether they really needed the directions or not. Leila helped Sasha set up her Apple account, and then we started browsing the App Store. It was cozy, with the tree lights blinking and the scent of maple syrup still lingering in the air. 

“Thank you,” I said to Leila.

”For what?”

”For including me. I know it has to be weird having a stranger in your house at Christmas.”  

“You aren’t any stranger than Dieter,” she quipped. “Seriously, though, you are very, very welcome. Freddy’s told me how different Dieter has been since he met you, and we’re so happy about it. They were pretty close when they were little but things got strained there for a while, especially after their parents divorced. Dieter felt like they had to choose sides and he couldn't understand why Freddy was still talking to their dad. Then when their mom died … Dieter kind of closed himself off from everyone. It’s good to see him connecting again.”

”That’s not just me,” I said. “He’s been on that path for a while, ever since he started rehab the first time.”

”But you’re a big part of it,” Leila insisted. “Freddy said there was a big change after you and Deet started dating. You’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you.”

Dieter looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Are you talking about me?”

”Of course,” Leila said. “Everyone everywhere is always talking about you, Dieter. You’re a celebrity. The world revolves around you. Geez, get over yourself.” She rolled her eyes and when Dieter had turned back to the Lego, we both giggled like kids. 

**************************************************

”I don’t know about this.”

Sasha and Derek had talked me into going to the sledding hill with them that afternoon. Now we stood at the top of a very steep incline with our plastic disks and I watched kids wiping out right and left.

”You’re fine,” Derek said. “It doesn’t hurt when you fall off, anyway.”

”Maybe not if you’re young and bendy,” I said. “But I’m old and stiff.”

”Mr. Gruenberg still sleds,” Sasha said, pointing out an older man with a neatly trimmed white beard who was whooping as loudly as his grandkids were.

”I bet he’s been doing it all his life,” I replied. “I’m from California. I went sledding once, on the side of the road when I was seven and it wasn’t nearly this long or this steep.”

”If you’re gonna be part of this family, you have to learn snow sports,” Derek said. “Sledding is the first one. Next time we’ll get you on skis.”

Sasha shrugged. “You kind of have to learn how to ski and snowshoe and stuff when you live in Vermont,” she said. “Otherwise you’d be stuck indoors half the year.”

I was still stuck on Derek’s offhand remark about being part of the family. I knew that being invited to spend the holidays with someone’s family was a huge step in a relationship, and people would make a lot of assumptions, but it fully hit me at that moment that these kids might just become my niece and nephew someday. That Freddy and Leila could be my brother and sister. For an only child, it was both a dream come true and the weirdest feeling imaginable. 

“Okay, you convinced me,” I said, trying to get my brain back to the present. “So what do I do?”

Derek demonstrated, hopping onto his sled and sliding down the slope with a wild yell. 

“Ready?” Sasha asked. “On the count of three. One … two … three!” She and I jumped onto our sleds and hurtled down the hill. It was disorienting and bumpy and scary and out of control. I loved it.

*************************************************************************

As we were putting our luggage into the back of the Cherokee the next morning, I pulled Freddy aside. “Thank you so much,” I told him. 

“For what?”

”For making me feel like part of the family. I know it must be weird to have your brother bring some strange woman home.”

Freddy held up his hand. “First of all, we should be thanking you for making Deet happy. He’s an asshole sometimes, but he’s my asshole and I love him. And second of all, you are part of the family. Dieter loves you and so do the rest of us. Look, I know Deet’s probably told you I cautioned him not to rush into anything, to take his time with this but … I might have been wrong. Maybe he does know a good thing when he sees it. Maybe his instincts were right. Or maybe he’s an idiot and he just got lucky.” He winked and hugged me. “Take care of him, okay?” 

“I will.”

”You okay?” Dieter asked when he helped me into the car. I might have been sniffling a little.

”Yeah, I’m just … gonna miss them.”

”Me, too,” he said, kissing my forehead. “They’re good people.”

”They’re your people, so of course they are.”

*****************************

Toronto was nothing like Vermont. For one thing, Dieter was back on set at 7:00 am the morning of the 27th and working ten to twelve hour days to make up for the lost time over the holidays. I didn’t see much of him except at night, but it was okay. We were together and I got to see what his life was really like for the first time. 

I spend my days reading or shopping or watching movies on Netflix. Not too much different from how I normally spent Winter Break at home, except for having Dieter next to me every night. 

“Now I know why you always looked so tired when you FaceTimed me,” I told him one evening after dinner. He’d been on set for eight hours already and had to go back for a couple more hours of night shoots on location. 

“Yeah, they’re really pushing us on this one,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face. “The studio wants it in on time and under budget and because of the holidays the director is super stressed out. But he did promise we’ll be done by nine on New Year’s Eve and get all of New Year’s Day off.”

Our hotel was holding a New Year’s Eve party in the ballroom but neither of us was really in the mood when the day rolled around. Dieter was tired and didn’t want to be around all the champagne, while I was lonely and just wanted to spend some time alone with him. So at the last minute we kicked off our shoes and ordered a bottle of sparkling cider sent to our room, along with an assortment of hors d’ouerves, for our own private party.

Our balcony faced the harbor, so we’d have a good view of the city’s fireworks display. It was bitterly cold out there, though, so we stayed inside until just before midnight. It was cozy on the little couch and it was tempting to just ignore the festivities and make some sparks of our own.

”No,” Dieter said. “We have to watch the fireworks. I love fireworks. Besides, this is our very first New Year together. We have to do it right. Make a toast. Kiss at the stroke of midnight.”

So at 11:55 we braved the cold, taking our glasses of cider out onto the balcony with us. We had the TV turned up so we could hear the official countdown. Ten. Dieter leaned against the balcony rail, a gentle smile on his face. Nine. He raised his glass. “To us.” Eight. I clinked the rim of my glass against his. Seven. “To us.” Six. We took a sip. Five. He turned around to face the harbor. Four. I leaned against the railing next to him. Three. He laid his hand against my cheek. Two. I tilted my face up toward him. One. He kissed me. “Happy New Year,” he whispered.

I looked out at the fireworks bursting across the sky. Dieter had his arm around me and I felt warm despite the Canadian winter night. We could hear the cheers and noisemakers from the party downstairs but I knew there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be at that moment than next to Dieter, toasting the year we’d had and all the years to come.

”Can I ask you something?” I said.

”Of course,” he said, laying his cheek against the top of my head.

”Will you marry me?”

[fullmetaldevil-blog]

Been busy in the garden, I currently have:

48 strawberries, 6 boisenberry, 3 blackberry, 3 raspberry, 2 blueberry, 2 concord grape, 2 red seedless grape, 1 yellow peach, 1 white peach, 2 apricot, 1 loquat, 3 navel orange, 1 murcott tangerine, 1 dancy tangerine, 1 golden nugget tangerine, 2 lemon, 3 jalapeño, 1 serrano, 1 'chocolate' habanero, 1 carribbean red habanero, 1 yellow lunch box pepper, 1 Red bell pepper, 1 'million' cherry tomato, 1 cherry tomato, 1 'sun gold' cherry tomato, 1 roma tomato, 9 patty pan/scallop squash, 4 zucchini, 6 '8 ball' zucchini, 3 collard, 9 swiss chard, 8 blue lake green bean, (not bothering to count) yellow onion and garlic.

All of my fruit bearing trees are in full swing as well as my berry plants. The veggies are slowly getting there but will be ready for summer harvest.

[iwaoiness]

Between Alphas

he's his song and he will never know how to sing another one

Oikawa's skin has always been soft, and when Iwaizumi touches it, when his warm fingers glide like river water over it, with parsimony and passion, it becomes all bristly, quivering skin, indulgent and wanting for more.

And fuck how Iwaizumi loves it.

It is nighttime. The orange light from the small lamp on the bedside table mixes with the night light filtering through the poorly drawn curtains, which sway in the faint breeze coming through the open window. They don't know what time it is, but they couldn't care less. Iwaizumi's sleep schedule has been broken for weeks now, and the reason is right there under his body, flushed, panting and submissive. His inner alpha couldn't be prouder.

Hajime's nose traces down Oikawa's neck, taking a deep breath. Oikawa smells of grapefruit and summer sun, a scent that envelops his senses, leaving him intoxicated and his mouth watering, whetting his appetite. He bites into his skin, not enough to sink his fangs, which have grown and burn to score, but enough to draw a loud groan from Oikawa and curve his back, making their pelvises rub together. Iwaizumi notices the surge of pheromones, how there's an itchy touch to them, how they intermingle with his own pheromones and create a strong, irresistible scent.

He begins to suck and lick, feeling Tooru stir underneath between grunts because Iwaizumi has his hands trapped against the mattress and can't scratch his bare back. Hajime slowly works his way up his skin, marking the path with kisses and soft puffs. His broad, firm shoulders tighten with the movement and, like a lion raising its head after tasting its prey, Iwaizumi raises his head to look at Oikawa as he licks his lips.

The taller's hair, wavy locks dyed chocolate, spreads across the pillow and some of it sticks to his forehead from sweat. His eyes, two orbs coated with the purest honey, almost eclipsed by pupils, are crystalline and clouded by the bomb of sensations he has not ceased to experience thanks to Iwa-chan. His cheeks tinged with sweet red, half-open lips glistening with saliva and swollen from the insufficient amount of kisses they've been sharing.

Iwaizumi thinks Oikawa couldn't be more handsome, more sexier, more hotter, more ethereal, more mine and only mine.

Until he sees those puffy, glossy lips curl into an ear-to-ear smile, loaded with mischief and sweetness, that makes Iwaizumi's heart wrap itself around warmth and beat hard and melt and turn into a mess because I don't know how you do it, but you have me wrapped around your fucking finger.

"Are you tired already, Iwa-chan?" He croons in a whispered, singsong voice, teasing him, because Oikawa enjoys trying to get under his skin, through muscles and veins.

Hajime is still captivated, but only for a second longer, before reflecting that same smile. With one hand, he holds both of Oikawa's wrists tightly above his head while his free hand catches his boyfriend's chin, lifting his face carefully, never breaking eye contact.

Actually, Oikawa could free himself from that grip, because he is just as strong, but he doesn't want to.

Yet.

"Tired, me? Look at you, Tooru." He answers, husky and low, his alpha rejoicing inwardly as he leans over him, grazing their noses and tantalising their lips. "Look at you how you are because of me." He descends his hand from his chin to his naked torso, slow and blazing, never taking his eyes for a single second from his boyfriend's restrained expression.

He sees him bite his lip and narrow his eyes. Oikawa's back curves, shuddering uncontrollably as one of his nails grazes his left nipple, still damp from the earlier biting and sucking. Iwaizumi smiles more and continues down, passing over his navel, sliding a little lower to the waistband of his blue shorts.

Doesn’t need to look at him, doesn’t need to touch him (yet), because he’s been feeling his hard cock against his from the very beginning.

"Look at you." He repeats, running his tongue over his lips.

Tooru, whose chest rises and falls at a surprising rate, who is drunk on the scent permeating the room, tilts his head slightly on his pillow. His eyes sparkle, glittering in the haze of excitement.

"Look at me." He doesn't beg, he orders, because that's his nature, because he knows what he wants and now he wants Iwaizumi to look at him, look at me and only me. "Look at me, Hajime."

He wants those eyes to get lost in his, those warm, calloused hands, made to save lives, to run over his skin that he has memorised, he wants those lips to melt back into his a thousand times over, he wants his ass to dance on Iwaizumi's member.

But he also wants to take control because his alpha is dying to touch him, to get lost in his muscles, to scratch his broad back, to grab his waist until his fingers mark it, to bite his neck, to make him growl and moan, to make Iwaizumi scream until he loses all his vocabulary and the only word he knows how to pronounce is his name.

Oikawa wants to turn Iwa-chan into a complete mess.

"Fucking tease boy." Iwaizumi snorts before bringing their lips together in a hungry, demanding and possessive kiss, where he lets him know who's in charge now as their tongues meet as if it's been years, brushing against each other's sharp fangs.

Their lips are moulded energetically, parting just enough to take in the scent they have formed together, and to let out growls and gasping names. Iwaizumi's hand continues its journey, slipping under the cotton shorts, outlining his waist, which rises inertia, leaving the way free for Iwa's hand to wrap around his back.

"Ha-Hajime." Tooru gasps between kisses, eyes half-opening slightly as he feels the alpha squeeze one of his buttocks before ripping (literally) his trousers off. "Wai... Wait." He tries to come back to his senses, to shake off the tangle clouding his mind, holding back the moans clawing at his throat as Iwaizumi begins to lunge at him over his clothes, slow and heavy.

His lower abdomen tingles and his cock throbs painfully.

"What's wrong, babe?" He finally asks as he releases his mouth, licking his lips before moving to his ear. Their torsos touch and rub and burn. "Don't you want me to, princess? Don't you want me to fuck you?" He whispers, deeply and low, almost making him purr when he hears that fucking nickname and when Iwaizumi's fangs caress the curve of his jaw. "Because I do." Iwa continues, his breath warm against his dermis and his words laden with a desire that takes Oikawa's breath away. Insane, it's going to drive me completely insane. "I want to reach deep inside you." Iwaizumi's palm opens and presses against Oikawa’s stomach. "I want to break you, Tooru."

Oikawa lets out a sob, closing his eyes tightly again while breathing almost heavily. This is too much. The pheromones Hajime’s expelling are becoming more and more pungent, and he fells himself drowning in the sweetness of cinnamon and the intensity of ginger because that's what Iwa-chan had smelled like for as long as Oikawa could remember. It smells of kindness and serenity.

But Oikawa isn’t an omega. He's riding out the tide of pheromones -which would have provoked the heat to any omega- like the proud, stubborn alpha he is because as dominant an alpha as Iwaizumi is, he doesn't want to lose to him.

However, by the time he forces himself to open his eyes and think of Makki wearing the blissful leopard borat swimming costume he had the audacity to wear one day to lower his horniness, Iwaizumi has begun to descend his body again. It passes over his collarbone, giving him a gentle nibble. He licks one of his pecs and nibbles on that sensitive pink button, eliciting a growl from him. Their gazes meet and, through his watery orbs, Oikawa sees Hajime's smile turn playful and continue his journey down his hard, worked abs, leaving a trail of kisses. Tooru loses himself in pleasure momentarily and the other alpha takes the opportunity to slowly remove his grip on Oikawa’s wrists, now having both hands free for the jackpot.

Iwaizumi spreads Tooru’s legs, firm hands supporting muscular thighs, and settles his face between them, still looking Oikawa in the eye. A stain darkens the blue fabric of Tooru's boxer (the white waistband of the garment reads Asahi's secret) and Iwaizumi licks his lips. The taller alpha props himself up as best he can on his elbows and frowns, about to complain. But the words don't come, his head tilts back and he ends up letting out a deep growl when Iwa-chan's hot mouth bites into his inner thigh, his black hair tickling close to his sensible cock.

"What's with the bad look, sweet boy?" He teases him, again leaving another bite, noticing how the leg trembles under his palm, feeding his alpha's ego and pride.

Let yourself go, Tooru, let me take you to the depths of hell.

"Y-you're... ngh... not... fair." He gasps, jerking his head up and lifting his chin. His scent accentuates and Iwaizumi's breath ties. "I want to be the top." He protests almost like a small child, jutting out his lower lip in a pout.

Hajime rests his head against Oikawa's good knee, his hair ruffling the alpha's skin, his intense eyes locked on his, the summer green darkening to a wintry green.

"No, we talked about this. Control is mine today, Tooru."

Oikawa's expression hardens and he growls, but this time as a warning, before grabbing Iwaizumi's hair and forcing him away from his crotch to lean towards him. Hajime, stunned, opens his mouth to retort what the fuck is he doing when Oikawa kisses him with the intensity of fire stoked by gasoline, moving his hand down from his hair to the back of his neck, clinging to it tightly because I want to be the top, Iwa-chan, and I'm going to be the damn top.

Hajime's eyes close in inertia under his scowl and that's when the alpha of each completely takes the reins. They snarl at each other between kisses like wolves fighting until Oikawa manages to reverse roles and get Iwa under his body, holding his wrists firmly against the mattress as Hajime did at first and sitting on his hips. The alpha scrambles to try to get free, but Tooru quickly uses his legs to pin Iwa’s.

Oikawa bites down on his lower lip a little too hard, the metallic taste of blood mixing with the saliva. Iwaizumi's curses are lost inside their mouths as he deepens the kiss, but they end up being heard clearly when Oikawa diverts his mouth to his neck and bites and licks and sniffs. With each touch, Tooru notices how Iwa-chan continues to press hard against him, and it sends a tingle through his stomach that spreads through his body like a raging wave. He feels his blood rushing through his veins, his face reddening a little more, his breathing altering, his scent thickening and deepening, his fangs aching.

He wants to make Iwa-chan his now. He wants to mark him because Iwa-chan is mine, only mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, he repeats like a prayer.

He is missing out completely.

"Oi, Oikawa! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Iwaizumi exclaims in overwhelm as the other alpha sinks deeper into his neck, one of his hands holding his wrists up and the other clinging to his waist tightly, his fingers digging into his skin. "Hey, Tooru!" He insists again with a frown, trying to get out, but Oikawa barely hears him, feels his voice distant and opaque, as if he's sinking into the ocean.

That's when Hajime knows something is wrong. He feels Oikawa shudder, moaning against his skin as his cock rubs against his in a slow, needy sway.

"Oikawa, let g-" His voice breaks into a whimper, shaking once more until he hears Oikawa growl at his before he finally pulls away from his neck and Iwaizumi falls silent as, in the dim lighting, he sees it. He sees the dark orbs of their eyes and their pupils now elongated like those of a feline.

Tooru has just come into heat, but he’s holding back trying to keep his alpha under control, and Iwaizumi knows he’s in pain by the agitated way he’s breathing, the anguish on his face, and the scent of fear.

"Stop it... stop it..." He seems to be talking to himself, his gaze lost and his voice cracking, hoarse and deep as he lets go of Iwaizumi and walks away from him. Hajime blinks, heart thundering in his eardrums as he watches him in a daze; he’s never seen him like this, never seen him in his first day of heat until now. "I mustn't... I mustn't mark you." He sobs and raises his left forearm, burying his fangs and teeth into his skin, closing his eyes tightly against the intense pain.

And then Iwaizumi reacts. Quickly, he reaches his arm towards the headboard of the bed and, knocking over the Star Wars Funko Pops that decorate it, he rummages around until he finds the inhibitor that Oikawa keeps there. He immediately sits up, sitting down as his boyfriend continues to hold back between grunts and gasps, and quickly opens the box. Cursing the trembling in his hands, Iwa pulls out the syringe and a glass vial filled with inhibitor serum. He fails to fill the syringe with the dose on the first attempt, but when he succeeds on the second try, he looks back at his boyfriend and, without a second thought, plunges the needle into Oikawa's arm and injects the dose.

The alpha whimpers like an abandoned puppy as the liquid, burning like the desert sun, makes its way through his veins. He strains his eyes open, still with his arm in his mouth, his skin flushed red. Iwaizumi feels a knot in his stomach and his heart shrinks as Tooru looks into his eyes, which slowly begin to return to normal as his jaw relaxes and he finally releases his arm, revealing the ugly wound his sore teeth have left in his dermis.

Oikawa hisses as he feels pain and stifles a cry as he looks down and sees his wound, quickly covering it with his hand and shrinking into himself, stunned and terrified. The reality of what he has done, of what he has been about to do, hits him like a goods train. Bile rises in his throat, and he becomes unable to look Iwa-chan in the eye. What has he done?

What have I done?

"Tooru." Hajime manages to get his voice out to call out to him, gesturing to touch him, but the alpha turns away, shaking his head.

What have I done, what have I done, what have I done, what have I done, what have I done.

"Tooru, please. Come." But Iwaizumi continues to insist, pleading, expelling a wave of pheromones, soft and sweet.

"I'll… I’ll hurt you." He mumbles in terror, not taking his eyes off the bite, shuddering at the thought that this is what he would have done to Iwaizumi if he hadn't controlled himself.

"Don't be an idiot, you won't." Hajime frowns, moving closer to him once again, gently resting his hands on the other's trembling arms. Oikawa shrinks more. "Look at me, Tooru." He resists despite the delicate scent of cinnamon enveloping him like a warm blanket in autumn. "Look at me, please." Oikawa swallows saliva, all his defences cracking, and finally, biting his lower lip, he slowly raises his crystalline gaze to Iwa-chan. His eyes, ever stoic and confident, swim tonight in concern.

My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault.

"I'm fine, see?" His voice sweetens and he settles in, slipping his legs slowly under Oikawa's, moving closer until he can wrap his arms around Tooru’s waist. "And I'm here, with you." Hajime continues, resting his firm hand between his shoulder blades, welcoming him into a hug that hurts and heals. "I'm not going anywhere." He promises close to his ear, feeling him tremble in his arms as he sinks his face into the hollow between his shoulder and neck.

"I'm sorry, Iwa-chan." He mutters then, his voice so broken that it stabs like daggers into Iwaizumi's chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats over and over, on the verge of sobbing, curling into Iwaizumi and holding his shirt tightly in his healthy hand, even though guilt eats at him and there's a voice screaming at him to stay away from Hajime because he doesn't deserve him.

He's not an omega, you're not omega either, why should you even try? This relationship is doomed to fail.

Hajime hugs him tighter, with the affection and security of someone who knows how to protect and understand, gently pushing his hair aside to distribute small kisses behind his ear and smell his gland.

They remain like that, cuddled together in bed, their skins exposed and their souls restless. It's fine, everything's fine, Iwaizumi wants to tell him, but his words catch in his throat. It's not okay, nothing is okay, and the alpha knows it, which is why he cries silently in the warmth of the shelter around him.

Again, yet another night, it's all gone to shit. They have been trying for months to take the plunge, to jump into the other world they are dying to explore hand in hand with each other. But there is no way and they end up frustrated because they are blinded by the suffocating pride of their alphas, and neither can be tamed by the other, no matter how much they want it. And sometimes, just sometimes, Hajime thinks if it's really worth it to keep having what they have. He loves Tooru, he loves him as he has never loved anyone before, yet he feels that this is going to end up consuming them completely.

Because they are like dead bodies of stars about to collide and create a tidal wave of destruction that would sweep everything away.

...

u can find me on ao3 tho!!

[miaeons]

for the thanksgivin long weekend im drinkin hot chocolates mixed w rumchata n gunna mix navel oranges strawberries n raspberries in this moscato for the dinner (tmrw night) im doin a whole roast chicken w stuffin n salad w slow cooker lasagna soup....

🤤🤤🤤

[potroasttheghostdog]

Being on the spectrum, and having weird interests is actually crazy sometimes. Just scratching an itch leads you down an hours long rabbit hole of discovery and wikipedia pages. For me, one of my more mundane interests is fruits, plants, and botany.

I was eating an orange. Just chilling, while feeding my dog. I wondered what my favorite orange (cara cara) was a crossbreed from (it's *gotta* be blood and navel right it's so tasty but distinct from other oranges, can't be a valencia the color's not right!)

So I looked it up. Turns out, there's like 600 of these bastards. Well let's fucking read about all of them.

Oh Ermelo's orange. That sounds weird. What's that.

Oh it's just called that because takes its name from 'Ermelo', a parish in Arcos de Valdevez Municipality, Portugal. It was introduced to the region by Cistercian monks in the 12th century, but it is sweeter than the average orange. Oh, but it's on The Ark of Taste.

What the fuck is that.

Well, turns out it's kinda like the Endagered Wildlife registry, but for sustainably sourced heritage foods and local cuisines. They see local foods as tantamount to cultural landmarks that should be preserved and foods go on the list if they are either impotant orbrelevant to a specific culture or ethnoregion, or are in danger of dying out whether from extinction or a fading cultural relevancy. They urge the perpetuation of their existence by encouraging their continued consumption. This includes foodstuffs like fruit from extremely specific regions, breads, cheeses, and even certain breeds of livestock that meat comes from.

Here's some fun ones: classic mortadella of all things (because it originates in Italy and has been a staple of their cuisine for centuries) cuccalar (a specific type of italian bread) casu marzu (a gross kind of cheese, do not google if you have a weak stomach) carosello (an italian melon), Lake Michigan Whitefish, Gravenstein Apples, Mayhaw jelly, bogong moths, and bunya nuts. They have things on the list from all over the world and it's actually really gratifying knowing that someone somewhere can see whatever random little thing you have and see everywhere, is valued, because it represemts a culture that not everyone has. I've had Lake Michigan whitefish. I consider it just a fish. But it's on a list of important culture for the US that should be conserved for the sake of culture, and that's kind of eye opening.

The Ark of Taste is run by Slow Food.

Ok. What the fuck is that.

Turns out it's an international org dedicated to preserving cultural foodstuffs that also emphasizes sustainability by supporting eating, growing, and traditional cooking local foods. Think Audobon but for cheese.

What was I reading about? Oh right, oranges. Oh the chocolate orange has a 12 Brix.

Ok.

What the fuck is a Brix.

Turns out Degrees Brix (°Bx) is the measure of dissolved solids in liquids and aqueous solutions, but is used to measure sugar content in foods and juices in common. So like Scoville scale but for sugar. Honey, soda, wine, sugar, fruit juice, fruits, and maple syrup use it to measure their sugar content. There's also some other scales that are used for sugar measuring. The Plato Scale (°P) is used in brewing, The Oechsle Scale used on german and swiss wine, and the Balling Scale, which is the oldest and not commonly used anymore.

What was I reading about? Oh yeah oranges.

Oh Smith Red Valencia. Sounds sultry.

It's a pigmented bud sport of the valencia orange tree.

K.

What's a bud sport.

Turns out a bud sport is any kind of sudden morphological difference growing from a plant caused by genetic mutation. Like when a dwarf pine starts growing foliage branches that are morpholigically identical to a regular pine. You ever notice how sometimes your christmas tree, if you get a live one, has irregular branches where they grow out longer than normal, and the needles are a bit different than the rest of the tree? Bud sport. Neat. Oh it's night time.

What was I reading about? Oh yeah. Oranges.

Yeah turns out I was right, cara caras are the hybrid of blood and navels. Knew it. Also, apparently oranges aren't even the original thing. They started out as a hybrid between pomelos and mandarins. Also, also, apparently fruit genomes have "moms and dads", i.e. the chloroplast genome is considered the "maternal line" of a fruit's ancestry. The orange's chloroplast genome comes from pomelos, meaning pomelos are the orange's "mother".

Also---

[greatbigbellies]

Hi, Can I please have an order of:

The Twinner Chicken dinner, The Fish Fillet sandwich, Hash Browns, 3 Large Tater Tots, an 8 piece Mozzarella Sticks, Chicken Nuggets, a 5 shots Cherry, Orange and 3 shots Peach soda, a Side Salad with Tangy Vinaigrette, Thousand Island Dressing, Fry sauce and a Chocolate Chip Cookie, an Ice Cream Sundae, and Ice Cream Sandwich. I'd also like a Large Cookies and Crème milkshake a Large Maternal Marionberry and a Large Marshmallow Plush?

*pulls out the fucking mcpreggo menu and a calculator*

Alright assuming you can eat all of that, you'll end up with a triplet pregnancy, complete with polyhydramnios, low sitting, WIDE (+30%) beach ball belly, with heavier babies, a nice dark linea nigra line, and your belly will glow a deep red! You'll have some extra energy thanks to the salad, with extra flexibility and heightened sense of taste and smell, with thicker thighs to boot! You'll have an easier time with stretchmarks and back pain thanks to the desserts, and have a nice little outie navel! You'll also have some lovely belly chub, wider hips, and your boobs will be very ready to produce milk!

Oh, and you'll be like this for... *checks watch* ...18 hours! Enjoy, send pics! <3

[rabbitcruiser]

Oranges and Lemons Day

Oranges  and Lemons Day is annually commemorated on the third Thursday of March,  even when Easter or St. Patrick's Day is interjected, at St Clement  Danes Church in London.

History of Oranges and Lemons Day

The London rhyme is well known but what may be less known is that  since 1920 it has been commemorated at the first mentioned church, St  Clement Danes in the Strand, London.

This custom is related to Reverend William Pennington-Bickford, who  restored church bells so they could play the tune of the rhyme. On the  day they were blessed, they were also dressed in garlands of orange and  lemon. He decided that all the parades on the day the bells were fully  restored, March 31, 1920, a special service would be arranged and at the  end each child would receive an orange and a lemon from the community.  The city's Danish coin was distributed with Danish children dressed in  their national colors.

Since 1923, there were a lot of rhymes that were sung with music were  the child of Pennington-Bickford and his wife. The following year, the  broadcast became nationally known as it was broadcast nationally and  singing became a regular program.

In 1941 the church and its bells were damaged in a bomb explosion.  However, despite this, the tradition continued and in 1944, despite the  rations, 26 children received only one orange in the middle of the  ruined building.

Oranges are not the only fruit

The only time I attended a service was in 1994, when I went to church  and was greeted warmly. One of the teachers said that the best place to  watch the ceremony was on the balcony and from there I watched the  well-dressed children getting ready. At the start of the service, a  group of parishioners played the tune on the bells again and the  ceremony began.

Honestly, I can't remember much about the actual service but I do  remember the kids taking part in a presentation. Sadly, it will be a  special year in 2020 - its 100th anniversary.

How to celebrate Oranges and Lemons Day

Oranges originated around 2500 BC in Asia. In ancient Europe, oranges  were grown mainly for medicinal purposes. As you know, Vitamin C is  still considered a great cold remedy to this day.

Did you know that lemon is actually a cross between citrus and sour  orange? Christopher Columbus is credited for carrying lemon and orange  seeds on his travels, thus introducing them throughout the New World.  Today, both lemons and oranges grow especially well in California and  Florida. Both of these fruits grow quite nicely in Arizona. Oranges here  have more seasons, grow well during the winter months and early spring,  and lemons can grow well year-round. In order to honor these fruits,  how about taking a look at some facts about each fruit.

Oranges:

Orange is a sweet, juicy citrus fruit. There are actually about 600  varieties of oranges, some of the most popular being Blood Orange, Navel  and Valencia.

Oranges are not known in the wild. Orange is a hybrid between mandarin and grapefruit.

Orange juice is the most popular juice in America, and oranges themselves are the fourth most popular fruit.

Brazil grows about a third of the world's oranges, with an output of 17.8 million tons per year.

About 85% of all oranges produced are used to make juice.

You can sprinkle orange peels on your vegetable garden as an effective slug repellent.

During their years of exploring the world, sailors planted orange  trees along their trade routes to prevent scurvy which disease will be  developed because there is a lack of vitamin C.

Orange is the third most loved flavor in the world, after chocolate and vanilla.

Warm weather can cause the skin of an orange to reabsorb the  chlorophyll, making it green again. However, don't let this stop you  from eating them, they still taste that great.

Oranges are rich in antioxidants. Antioxidants neutralize the  effects of free radicals in your body, which are believed to be  responsible for disease and aging. Therefore, why do not eat oranges to  be young and healthy!

Only one orange contains vitamin C for two days in fact.

Fruit comes out before color. It wasn't until 1542 that "orange" was first used as a name for a color.

Bitter oranges are used to make marmalade.

A larger navel produces a sweeter orange.

You can store oranges in the refrigerator with the room temperature.

Lemon:

Lemon trees will bear fruit all year round. Each tree can give us 500  to 600 pounds of lemons during a year. The most popular lemon varieties  include Eureka, Lisbon, and Meyer.

Lemon juice contains about 5-6% citric acid, which gives them a sour taste.

Arizona and California produce 95% of the entire US lemon crop.

Many years ago, kings used to give lemons to each other because they were once very rare.

Add the juice of one lemon to an equal amount of hot water to gargle against bacteria the next time you have a sore throat.

The grated rind, also known as the lemon zest, is used for flavoring in many recipes and other dishes.

The leaves of the lemon tree can be used to make tea and prepare cooked meat dishes.

Lemon can be used for cleaning due to its highly acidic nature. Two  halves of a lemon dipped in baking powder or salt can be used to clean  kitchenware and shine bronze.

Cattle will choose lemons over grapefruits, peaches, oranges, and  even apples. It's most likely because the citric acid in lemons aids  their digestion.

Lemon juice has a low pH, making it a good disinfectant. It can also dissolve grease and eliminate odors.

Lemon essential oil is frequently used in non-toxic insecticides.

Lemon juice is also an interesting choice in preserving foods like avocados, apples, or bananas.

A cup of warm water with a leaf of lemon before breakfast is a great thing for your constipation.

One lemon can provide 50% of the daily need for vitamin C.

Preserving the lemons in a plastic bag then put it in the  refrigerator after watering to keep the lemons tasting fresh. When being  frozen, lemons can keep for a month.

Temperature changes cause lemons to go from green to yellow, not  ripe, so green patches are fine, but it's best to avoid fruit with brown  spots, a sign of rot.

As you can see, lemons have more uses than that lemon jar! And,  although orange juice is our most popular juice, oranges can be made  into many other things too! To celebrate their special day, check out  some of the lemon and orange recipes we've collected, you might discover  a new favorite orange or lemon recipe.

Source

[lonita]

100 Things About Me

A list of 100 things about you.

Could be favourite things, random facts, places visited, hobbies, etc.

Good get-to-know-you.

Shorten the length to make it more workable for other lists or situations.

I am legally blind.

I prefer identify first language over person first, because person first makes it sounds as if I can take my disability off as if it's an attachment.

I don't like abled people telling me how to refer to myself or my disability.

I like to drink room temperature water in the winter.

I have three main hobbies: buying art supplies, organising art supplies, and using art supplies.

I love binge-watching old TV shows as background noise.

I have seen Gary Numan live six times.

I love singing jazz.

Cooking is a monumental bore.

I am childfree by choice.

I have had surgery to render myself incapable of pregnancy.

I have zero regrets about either of the above two things.

The only car I've ever driven was an F2000 racecar.

I've been to the US, England, France, Hungary, Germany, and Cuba.

I don't know how to swim.

The older I get, the more politically and socially angry I get.

I like systems that benefit people collectively.

I cannot abide the smell of mutton cooking.

My favourite colours are warm greens - like grasses, leaves, and olives.

Celebrity culture bores the shit out of me.

I have no real desire to own a home. I'm content ro rent.

I love abstract art.

I am an atheist and antitheist.

I haven't watched a sitcom in so long I don't even remember the last one I watched.

I have five tattoos.

I haven't watched any mainstream Canadian broadcast news since the second week of October 2023.

When I have tea, I only like milk in it.

My favourite songs to listen to loud are Gary Numan's Hope Bleeds version of Are Friends Electric?, Led Zeppelin Nobody's Fault But Mine, Fugazi Waiting Room, and Gang of Four To Hell With Poverty.

My love for loud music has not blunted as I get older.

I didn't know my blood type until about five years ago.

Songs that mention luxury brand names annoy the shit out of me.

Things that other people seem to like which I don't: the movie Titanic, Taylor Swift, wine.

Things that I like which other people seem not to like so much, include: pigeons, spinach, communists. Only the middle one for eating. I don't want to eat communists. Although I've had pigeon once, and it was delicious.

i prefer micro fine black ink pens over any other kind.

My first name apparently roughly translates to "ready for battle". Anyone who knows me is going to find that funny.

Crunchy peanut butter is superior to smooth.

I like collecting postcards.

Some things I like include tea, navel oranges, speculative fiction, loud guitar, corn bread, black pepper, leaf scuffing, ruby grapefruit, exploring abandoned buildings, surprise bags, milk chocolate, puns, warm spring days, a seriously good mindfuck, comfort films, the Oxford comma, constrained writing, ice cream, and costume drama.

My favourite mindfuck film is probably still Altered States.

I'm starting to come around to the term apocalist as opposed to bucket list.

I prefer pre-Moonraker Bond films.

I like to sing, preferably jazz standards or things of that like.

I am grossed out by potato eyes.

I don't like people watching me do housework.

I truly believe that Frampton Comes Alive! does have restorative powers.

I like the sounds of wind in the trees and rain on the streets.

My household theme song is Tim Curry's I Do the Rock.

My favourite Beatles' song is Dig a Pony.

I don't like having my picture taken. No paparazzi!

I believe that you should work to live not live to work.

I believe that if life hands you lemons, you should make pie. Everything is better with pie.

I once cut myself with bubble wrap.

For years I've been keeping a notebook in which I write a list of things to be happy about.

I like attention. I don't like being the centre of attention.

I never learned how to put on any makeup other than lipstick.

I think best days ever include: Gary Day (any day on which I get to see Gary Numan live), New Toothbrush Day / Dentist Cleaned My Teeth Day, New Art Supplies Arrive in the Mail Day, The Day I Learned About Server-Side Includes, and Friday.

I like the sounds of wind in the trees and rain on the streets.

I like when there's enough of something.

For a long time when I was a child I wouldn't walk right up to my bed if the lights were out. I'd get about a foot away then jump onto it. I blame this on the movie Blackbeard's Ghost and that scene where he's looking into the mirror and the ghost appears behind him.

Sometimes I eat oranges because I like the sharp sweet smell more than I'm desirous of actually eating it.

One of my favourite things in the world is the tenor solo in the Ode to Joy, and the way it creeps up on you every time, like how Brain Damage/Eclipse creeps up on you and surprises you every time at the end of Dark Side of the Moon. I never get tired of that.

I like the film Lawrence of Arabia.

I believe in the right to choose.

I like to eat sweet things, but I don't like the smell of it on my hands afterwards.

I once volunteered to participate in a psych study just to get one of the perks of doing the study: copies of MRI scans of your brain.

For years I wouldn't get in an elevator first or get out last, because when I was five I got stuck in an elevator during a hydro company oriented power outage. They decided that a school day's lunch time was the perfect time to do some testing. Boy did they get an earful from a number of people.

I get an enormous charge out of location-spotting the city where I live in films and TV shows.

My hair used to be a lovely golden red when I was young. It got blonder as I got older. That bums me out. I want the red back.

My current favourite vulgarity is halve poes.

I don't enjoy magic shows, sitcoms, Star Wars, or superhero movies.

I prefer 1% milk. Homogenised is too fatty and skim is like water.

I like making lists.

I own a green bass guitar.

I have never chugged maple syrup.

I don't like drinking carbonated drinks on hot days.

I like anise in candy but not with meat.

One time my mother ordered me groceries as a gift, but she accidentally doubled everything so I ended up with 20lbs of potatoes.

I hate wearing pink. I don't own anything pink.

Shrimp are too creepy to eat, as are snails.

I have no interest in jewellery and don't like white diamonds.

The skins that sometimes form on top of hot chocolate drinks are gross.

When I was five I had an imaginary friend named Charlie Brokentoaster.

I rarely drink alone. I come from a long line of alcoholics, so I just didn't want to get into the habit of drinking by myself. I want to enjoy alcohol, so I keep alcohol as a social thing.

I don't mind renting. Owning property doesn't make a person more an adult than one who doesn't. Besides, when something goes wrong, like the fridge dies or they have to replace the entire hot water heater system, I don't have to suddenly wonder where thousands of dollars is going to manifest from.

I just realised I've been playing Candy Crush for over a decade. That's just weird.

I never figured out Double Dutch when I was a kid.

Sometimes I miss ringing telephones.

I bought the kid version of a Waterpik because it was green and came with stickers.

My first Doctor was Jon Pertwee, but my favourite Doctor was Tom Baker.

Places I still want to visit include Uluru, Death Valley, and Kilimanjaro. None of these things is likely to come to pass.

I don't mind long bus rides. Good reading time.

One of my favourite things to binge watch in the middle of the night for comfort, is episodes of Cadfael.

My favourite scents include the sharpness of lemon, orange, and grapefruit rinds, pine, and cooking soup.

Boomer thinkers annoy the shit out of me.

I like found object art and found poetry.

I wish cereal wasn't so carby. Sometimes a body gets a craving.

I can't eat bananas unless they're still a little green, because they're way too sweet when they're all the way yellow.

I still don't understand how I can not touch the lenses of my glasses and they still get marks on them. What the hell's up with that?

My cousins and I used to sneak fresh rhubarb out of their grandfather's garden when we were little.

Racism and bigotry are deal-breakers for me.

[ciaossu-imagines]

So, for the aesthetics day of the event, I used one of the prompts for Dr. Theo from Gangsta.! I hope you all enjoy!

The body is just a shell to the soul / aesthetics .

body.

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach.Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Six pack. Beer belly.  Lean frame. Slender frame. Muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat butt. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick butt. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused feet.Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulders. Underweight. Average Weight. Overweight.

height.

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

skin.

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred.

eyes.

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold Amber(close enough to orange). Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

hair.

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Scruffy. Frizzy. Curly. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Short. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Floor length. Buzz cut. Bald. Jaw length. Vermilion. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Streaked. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

tattoos / piercings.

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Shin tattoo. Forearm tattoo. Upper arm tattoo. Wrist tattoo. Lower back tattoo. Upper back tattoo. Shoulder blade tattoo. Hand/finger tattoo. Foot tattoo. Neck tattoo. Face tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoo. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s).Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercing. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing. Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

cosmetics.

Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears makeup from time to time. Never wears make-up.

scent.

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturizer. Natural soap.Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain. Grass. Ocean. Autumn leaves. Baked bread. Freshly baked cookies.Smoke. Campfire. Lavender. Trees. Pumpkin Pie. Musk. Rose. Gingerbread. Peppermint. Oak. Honey. Lemon. Vanilla. Coconut. Sage. Coffee Cake. Mint. Raw hyde. Chemicals.

clothes.

Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt.Loose skirt. Tight/formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports-T-shirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop. Cut off t-shirt. Designer. High street. Online stores.Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sun dress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress/skirt. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts.Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts.Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt.Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter.Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Plaid. Black. Dark colors. Fur. Faux fur.  

shoes.

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high.  Platforms. Stripper heels. Bare feet. Loafers.

[cosmictapestry]

for the prompts: A5 or C12?

A5. morphussy oral

cute cute cute cute cute cute cute cute

prompt list here

"If I asked you to, could you make your corporeal form light enough for me to lift? Would you be comfortable with that?" Lucienne asks, early in the morning as they both prepare to go their separate ways for the day.

Her lord hums, standing behind her, arms up around her shoulders as he finishes the intricate knot of her silk necktie and smooths his fingers over it, admiring it against the crisp white linen of her undershirt, the smooth warm brown of her skin. He recommended the color, a vibrant sunset orange. "I don't see why not," he says. "Is there a reason, or is this just where your mind has decided to go?"

Lucienne snorts and swats at him, and he presses a smiling kiss to her neck. "You're always picking me up and bending me every which-way," she says. Last night he had been fucking her standing up, her arse hanging over the edge of the bed, when he suddenly scooped her up and lifted her chest to his, his elbows hooked under her knees and her feet kicking helplessly, her arms tight around his neck while he bounced her on his cock. "Perhaps I would like to show off, too. And play with your quim while I'm at it."

"I am not the show-off," Lord Morpheus mutters into her neck, feigning offense. His breath has quickened. "Would you like me smaller than you?"

"No," Lucienne murmurs. "I only want you to feel you are smaller than me."

A heated second passes before her lord sighs across her skin. "I must be doing something right, if you feel I need to be taught a lesson," he nuzzles up to her ear. "Have I truly tormented you so? You need to show me what it's like?"

Molten honey seems to suffuse her veins. So easy to provoke, her lord, so ready to bend to her, so eager to. "I think you're projecting," she teases, turning her face against his cheek. "You just like the idea of being punished."

He huffs, and his lips brush her skin, and she realizes how shaky his breath is, how shallow and rapid. "We do not need to be up and about yet," he says suddenly, urgently. "If you—we could—"

"You've convinced me," and she spins in his hold, raises her hands to his face to gather his jaw and pull him to her. He sighs against her lips and melts like chocolate and lets her undo all his work, whipping away her necktie and shirt and trousers and pushing him back, back, until she has him on the bed, has him sprawled before her with his robes all parted down to his navel.

She climbs on top of him, her breasts dragging over his chest, her hand sliding down his fluttering abs. He grins against her lips when she leans in to kiss him, and his hands slide up to cradle the back of her head. He's so cute it's going to make her crazy. She runs her fingers down the sharp cut of his hips, down under his robes to where he's soft and molten, and he gasps into her mouth.

"So excited," Lucienne whispers, alternating pressure on his clit with her pointer and then index finger, making him jerk into her hand. He's swollen already, puffy and hot, and when she slips further down he is slick, sopping, and he whimpers. "I don't leave you like this every morning, do I?"

"More often than I would like to admit," he says, apparently unaware of how devastating that it.

Lucienne groans, and she nips at his bottom lip, urgency singing in her blood. "Oh, you are sweet," she whispers. "Let me take care of it, love?" and she sinks one fingertip into him, feels him arch under her. "Let me use my mouth on you, tide you over until tonight?"

He shudders and he gasps, and when she pulls back his face is flushed, eyes teary. "You don't have to say anything," she whispers, the hand that isn't otherwise preoccupied stroking his jaw, running her thumb over his trembling bottom lip. "Let me do the thinking, alright?"

As expected, he grins. "You always do," he whispers, and he lets her pull away to straighten up on her haunches in front of him. She hooks her hands under his knees, props them up, urges him to plant his feet on the sheets. She runs her hands down between his thighs, spreads him open just to stare for a moment at slick blush-pink flesh. He makes a noise, tiny and embarrassed.

The thread of her self-control is rapidly fraying. Lucienne slips her hands under his hips, intending to pull him closer, and she finds him feather-light, easy to move as a slip of fabric. She lifts him, lifts him up until he has to support himself on his elbows, then his shoulders, arms spread out and back arched, legs around her neck.

If his body reacted to strain the way hers did, the position would become painful quickly. As it stands he stares at her, his eyes huge, his robes falling dark and liquid around the pale bow of his body. His thighs are petal-soft on her cheeks, his hips sharp in her hands, his cunt hot in front of her face. She likes this. He does, too, judging by the way his lashes brush his cheeks, the way his clit visibly throbs.

She buries her face between his thighs, sucks his clit into her mouth. He wails, and his hips jerk with what little leverage he has, and his hands clench in the sheets. His thighs trembles around her head as she licks him, firm and broad, lapping up his slickness and drawing more, stone-storm-salt and mainlined electricity. He bows and grinds and tips his chin up, every little sound from him zinging straight to her core.

Her lord is babbling, helplessly begging, clearly struggling not to grab the back of her head and grind her face into his cunt, and he whines with the idea as it flits through her mind's eye. Lucienne meets his eyes down the length of his body, and she winks.

With a gasp he raises his hands to the back of her head, pulls her close, gentle and sweet and desperate as he pushes against her tongue. Lucienne hums and she wriggles her tongue and he gasps and he comes, his thighs cinching tight and shaking around her ears, his face slack in ecstasy. When he can breathe he keens, and he twitches, and his cunt drools over her tongue like honey, and he goes limp.

Lucienne keeps licking until he twists his hips, trying to get away, and she laughs, and she lowers him down. She hadn't realized how tightly she'd been holding him—her handprints are red on his sharp hips. She raises her arm to wipe her mouth, and he watches the movement with hazy, gleaming eyes. "That's what you get," she says.

Lord Morpheus snorts, the sound all breathless and wrecked. "Not exactly a deterrent," he mutters.

[red-talisman]

Tagged by @pleasegivejinlingabreak. ✪ ω ✪ I'll keep it danmei-related.

1. Three ships:

Mo Ran/Chu Wanning. I first read 2ha in March 2020 when my region had JUST gone into COVID lockdown and I sped through the entire translation, including the UNEDITED machine translation lmao, in just four days. MR and CWN became a Coping Strategy. This is one of the rare examples in which I'm so satisfied with the original source that I haven't felt the need to channel my emotions through writing fic, which is a very strange feeling.

Liu Qingge/original Shen Jiu. I'm obsessed. Utter Disaster™.

Jiang Cheng/anyone regardless of gender and in various combos. This angry baby is my fandom bicycle and clearly he just needs a good, hard ride to solve all his problems. #TrustMeImACounselor #WellnessStrategies #BetterLivingThroughBetterDicking

2. First ship:

My first danmei ship was Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan back when Guardian took tumblr by storm in 2018. Guardian was my first cdrama and dear GODS that glorious trashfire just ATE MY BRAIN, and also sent me on some research rabbit-holes about Chinese history and literary traditions more generally as an area I had no real prior knowledge in.

3. Last song listened: "Anoana" by Heilung (one of those Scandinavian folk bands that, afaik, is not white supremacist, and it sucks that I have to be explicit about that)

4. Last movie watched: I....don't remember. I don't actually consume much visual media the way I do music, which means that when I do consume something, it becomes a Fixation and I make a sideblog to scream over it. My pinned post is proof lol.

EDIT: no wait it was Everything Everywhere All At Once, which is already excellent but was additionally interesting to watch with commentary from relatives who are diasporic Okinawan about their own experiences.

5. Currently watching: spotty rewatch of NBC's Hannibal whenever I remember that TV is a thing that exists.

6. Currently reading: 2ha's official English publication (!!!!!!!!!!)

7. Currently consuming: navel orange + chocolate chips. :D

8. Currently craving: Coffee. I'm drinking it right now but I still crave it.

Tagging some of the folks who are showing up in my recent activity feed lol - @pizzadisaster , @lollo12589 , @leasspell-dael , @miss-fiery , @tragedy-jun . Feel free to ignore this, of course. 💜

(If anyone else wants to participate, you can tag me as the person who tagged you and I got your back, fam.)

[gettingsomethingfromnothing]

August 14 2023

Bad day..

6 shots 42 proof vodka - 384

soup 103

Navel orange 73

Navel orange 73

Chicken 79

Fruit and yogurt 80

Whipped topping no fat 30

Fiber 30

Chocolate 120

Gala apple 70

1042 total

[fly-in-the-freedom]

Bold what applies

[BODY] Long legs | Short legs | Average legs | Slender thighs | Thick thighs | Toned thighs | Skinny arms | Soft arms (Average) | Toned arms | Muscular arms | Toned stomach | Flat stomach | Flabby Stomach | Soft stomach | Six-pack | Beer belly | Lean frame | Beefy/muscular frame | Voluptuous frame | Petite frame | Lanky frame | Short nails | Long nails | Manicured nails | Dirty nails | Flat ass | Toned ass | Bubble butt | Small waist | Average waist | Thick waist | Narrow hips | Average hips | Wide hips | Big feet | Average feet | Small feet | Soft feet | Slender feet | Calloused hands | Soft hands | Big hands | Average hands | Small hands | Long fingers | Short fingers | Average fingers | Narrow shoulders | Broad shoulders | Average shoulders | Underweight | Average weight | Overweight |

[HEIGHT] Shorter than 140 cm | 141 cm to 150 cm | 151 cm to 160 cm | 161 cm to 170 cm | 171 cm to 180 cm | 181 cm to 190 cm | 191 cm to 2m | Taller than 2 m |   

[SKIN] Pale | Rosy | Olive | Dark | Tanned | Blotchy | Smooth | Moles | Acne | Dry | Greasy | Freckled  | Scars | Birthmarks | 

[EYES] Small | Large | Average I Grey | Brown | Blue | Turquoise | Violet | Pink | Green | Gold | Hazel | Crimson | Doe-eyed | Almond | Squinty | Monolid | Heavy eyelids | Upturned | Downturned | Round | Hooded | Close-set | Wide-set | Deep-set |

[HAIR] Thin | Thick | Fine | Normal | Greasy | Dry | Soft | Shiny | Curly | Frizzy | Wild | Unruly | Straight | Smooth | Wavy | Curly | Floppy | Cropped | Pixie-cut | Afro | Pompadour | Shoulder length | Back length | Waist length | Past hip-length | Buzz cut | Bald | Weave | Hair extensions | Jaw length |Layered | Mohawk | Ponytail | Braid | Locks | Box braids | Faux locks | White | Going Grey | Platinum blonde | Golden blonde | Dirty blonde | Blonde | Strawberry Blonde | Ombre | Ash brown | Mouse brown | Chestnut brown | Golden brown | Chocolate brown | Dark brown | Jet black | Orange | Ginger | Red | Auburn | Dyed | Thin eyebrows | Average eyebrows | Thick eyebrows | Plucked eyebrows |

[TATTOOS/PIERCINGS] Full sleeve | Thigh tattoo | Neck tattoo | Chest tattoo | Back tattoo | Shoulder blade tattoo | One tattoo | Face tattoo | Hand tattoo | Henna tattoo | Wrist tattoo | Forearm tattoo | A few here and there | Multiple | No tattoos | Monroe piercing | Nose piercing | Septum | Nipple piercing(s) | Genital piercing(s) | Industrial piercings | Ear piercings | Prince Albert piercing | Eyebrow piercing(s) | Tongue piercing(s) | Lip piercing(s) | Top of the ear | Tragus piercing | Angel bites | Labret | Stretched out ears | Navel piercing | Inverse navel piercing | Cheek piercing(s) | Smiley | Nape piercing(s) | No piercings |

[COSMETICS] Eyeliner | Light eyeliner | Heavy eyeliner | Cat eyes | Mascara | Fake eyelashes | Matte lipstick| Regular lipstick | Lipgloss | Red lips | Pink lips | Nude lips | Dark lips | Bronzer | Highlighter |Eyeshadow | Neutral eyeshadow | Smoky eyes | Colorful eyeshadow | Blush | Lipliner | Light contouring | Heavy contouring | Powder | Matte foundation | Shiny foundation | Concealer | Wears war paint from time to time | Wears makeup regularly | Wears it from time to time | Never wears make-up |

[SCENT] Floral | Herbal | Earthy | Fruity | Perfumes | Aftershave | Cocoa | Moisturizer | Shampoo | Cigarettes | Leather | Fur | Musk I Sweet Musk I Sweat | Food | Incense | Bath Oils/Essential Oils I Cologne | Whiskey | Wine | Fried food | Blood | Fire | Cold | Fresh | Sea Breeze/Salt I Metal | Rain | Chemicals |

[CLOTHES] Jeans | Tight pants | Overknee socks | Tights | Leggings | Yoga pants | Pencil skirt | Tight skirt | Loose skirt | Tight/Form-fitting dress | Cardigans | Tunic | Blouse | Button up shirt | Band-T-shirt | Sports-T-shirt | Sweatpants | Tanktop | Cut off t-shirt | Designer | High street | Leather jacket | Thrift | Lingerie | Long skirt | Miniskirt | Maxi dress | Sundress | Tie | Tuxedo | Cocktail dress | High slit dress/skirt | T-shirt | Loose clothing | Tight clothing | Jean shorts | Sweater | Sweater vest | Waistcoat | Khaki pants | Suit | Hoodie | Basketball shorts | Boxers/Boxer-Briefs | Thong | Hotpants | Hipster panties | Bra | Sportsbra | Crop top | Corset | Ballerina skirt | Leotard | Polka dot | Stripes | Glitter | Cotton | Linen | Silk | Lace  | Leather | Velvet | Patterns | Florals | Neon colors | Pastels | Light colors | Jewel tones | White | Black | Dark colours | Fur/Faux fur | Revealing clothing | Heavy armor | Medium armor | Light Armor |

[SHOES] Sneakers | Slip-ons | Flats | Slippers | Sandals | High heels | Kitten heels | boots/ankle boots | High Boots I Combat boots | Knee-high | Platforms | Bare feet | Loafers | Oxfords | Gladiator shoes | Leather shoes |

Tagged by: Stole it!​

Tagging: @13urningstars, @battlexworned, @aircommndr and anyone who hasn’t done this yet lol

[kibonosentoki]

MUSE CHARACTERISTICS & AESTHETICS:

BOLD what applies to your muse! Italicize things that apply occasionally or applied in the past!

Repost, don’t reblog.

BODY

Short legs | Long legs | Average legs | Slender thighs | Toned thighs | Thick thighs | Muscular thighs | Skinny arms | Toned arms | Muscular arms | Soft arms | Toned stomach | Flat stomach | Flabby Stomach | Soft stomach | Six-pack | Beer belly | Lean frame | Beefy frame | Muscular frame | Voluptuous frame | Petite frame | Lanky frame | Short nails | Long nails | Manicured nails | Dirty nails | Flat ass | Toned ass | Bubble butt | Thick ass | Small waist | Thick waist | Narrow hips | Average hips | Wide hips | Big feet | Average feet | Small feet | Soft feet | Slender feet | Broad shoulders | Narrow shoulders | Average shoulders

HEIGHT

3'4" or less | 3'5" - 3'8" | 3'9" - 4'0" | 4'1″ - 4'4" | 4'5" - 4'8" | 4'9" to 5'0" | 5'1" - 5'4" | 5'5" - 5′8″ | 5′9" - 6′0" | 6'1" - 6′4″ | 6′5″ or taller

WEIGHT

Less than 100lbs | 100–125lbs | 125–150lbs | 150–175lbs | 175-200lbs | 200–225lbs | 225–250lbs | 250–275lbs | 275–300lbs | 300–325lbs | 325–350lbs | More than 350lbs | Underweight | Healthy weight | Overweight

SKIN

Pale | Light | Rosy | Peaches & Cream | Medium | Olive | Golden | Dark | Warm undertones | Cool undertones | Olive (Warm & Cool) undertones | Neutral undertones | Tanned | Freckled | Blotchy | Smooth | Acne | Dry | Greasy | Soft

EYES

Small | Large | Average | Gray |Gray-Blue | Brown | Black | Blue | Green | Blue-Green | Gold | Hazel | Heterochromatic | Red | Doe-eyed | Bloodshot | Almond-shaped | Wide-set | Close-set | Deep set | Protruding | Squinty | Mono-lid | Epicanthic fold | Heavy eyelids | Downturned | Upturned | Full lashes | Thin lashes | Straight lashes | Curled lashes

LIPS

Pink | Peach | Red | Brown | Dark | Full | Thin | Full upper/thin lower | Thin upper/full lower | Pouty | Plump | Cupid’s bow | Soft | Rough | Smooth | Chapped | Dry | Moist | Warm | Cold |

NOSE

Duchess | Fleshy | Upturned | Downturned | Roman | Aquiline | Bumpy | Snub | Hawk | Greek | Nubian | East Asian | Nixon | Bulbous | Celestial | Smooth | Sloped | Large nostrils | Average nostrils | Small nostrils | Straight | Raised | Lowered

HANDS & FINGERS

Small | Petite | Delicate | Slender | Long fingers | Short fingers | Stubby fingers | Chubby fingers | Meaty | Bony | Pale | Frail | Skillful | Rough | Calloused | Strong | Thin | Thick | Smooth | Soft | Warm | Cold | Frigid | Sweaty | Gentle | Scarred

HAIR

Thin | Thick | Fine | Normal | Greasy | Dry | Soft | Shiny | Curly | Frizzy | Wild | Unruly | Straight | Smooth | Wavy | Floppy | Cropped | Pixie-cut (long) | Shoulder length | Back length | Waist length | Buzz cut | Undercut | Bald | A bit below the jaw | A bit above the jaw | Mullet | Mohawk | White | Platinum blonde | Strawberry blonde | Orange blonde | Golden blonde | Redhead | Dirty blonde | Blonde | Ombre | Light brown | Mouse brown | Chocolate brown | Chestnut brown | Dark brown | Jet black | Ginger (red-orange) | Auburn (red-brown) | Copper | Other Color | Thin eyebrows | Average eyebrows | Thick eyebrows | Groomed eyebrows

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS

Full sleeve | Thigh tattoo | Neck tattoo | Chest tattoo | One tattoo | A few here and there | Wrist tattoo | Back tattoo | Multiple | No tattoo | Monroe piercing | Nose piercing | Septum | Nipple piercing(s) | Genital piercing(s) | Industrial piercings | Earlobe piercing | Prince Albert piercing | Eyebrow piercing(s) | Tongue piercing(s) | Lip piercing(s) | Helix piercing | Tragus piercing | Angelbites | Labret | Stretches out ears | Navel piercing | Inverse navel piercing | Cheek piercing(s) | Smiley | Nape piercing(s) | No piercing

COSMETICS

Eyeliner | Light eyeliner | Heavy eyeliner | Cat eyes | Mascara | Fake eyelashes | Matte lipstick | Regular lipstick | Lipgloss | Red lips | Pink lips | Dark lips | Bronzer | Highlighter | Body wash | Moisturizer | Aftershave | Eyeshadow | Neutral eyeshadow | Smoky eyes | Colorful eyeshadow | Blush | Lipliner | Light contouring | Heavy contouring | Greasepaint | Powder | Matte foundation | Shiny foundation | Concealer | Perfume | Cologne | Deodorant | Wears make up regularly | Wears it from time to time | Uses only light makeup | Never wears make-up

SCENT

Floral | Fruit | Earthy | Spicy | Perfumes | Aftershave | Shampoo/Conditioner | Cocoa | Candy | Moisturizer | Cigarettes | Leather | Sweat | Food | Incense | Marijuana | Alcohol | Cologne | Whiskey | Wine | Fried food | Blood | Fresh Linen | Musk

CLOTHES

Jeans | Tight pants | Leather pants | Dress pants | Over-the-knee socks | Tights | Leggings | Yoga pants | Pencil skirt | Tight skirt | Loose skirt | Tight/formfitting dress | Cardigans | Blouse | Button up shirt | Band-T-shirt | Sports t-shirt | Dress shirts | Sweatpants | Tank top | Fur | Faux fur | Leather | Designer | High street | Online stores | Thrift | Lingerie | Long skirt | Miniskirt | Maxi dress | Sun dress | Tie | Tuxedo | Cocktail dress | High slit dress/skirt | T-shirt | Loose clothing | Tight clothing | Jean shorts | Sweater | Sweater vest | Khaki pants | Suit | Hoodie | Harlem pants | Basketball shorts | Boxers | Briefs | Thong | Hotpants | Hipster panties | Commando | Bra | Sports bra | No bra | Crop top | Corset | Ballerina skirt | Leotard | Polka dot | Stripes | Glitter | Silk | Lace | Satin | Velvet | Chemise | Patterns | Florals | Neon colors | Pastels | Black | Dark colors | Neutral colors

SHOES

Sneakers | Slip-ons | Flats | Slippers | Sandals | High heels | Kitten heels | Ankle boots | Combat boots | Knee-high | Platforms | Stripper heels | Dress shoes | Bare feet | Loafers | Oxfords | Gladiator shoes

JEWELLERY & ACCESSORIES

Earrings | Necklaces | Chokers | Collars | Lockets | Watches | Rings | Purity rings | Promise ring | Engagement ring | Wedding ring | Bracelets | Hair ties | Cufflinks | Ties | Bowties | Bolo ties | Brooches | Pins | Bandannas | Hairpins | Crowns | Tiaras | Garters | Anklets | Ribbons | Belts | Umbrellas | Parasols | Bookbags | Briefcases | Satchels | Glasses | Contacts | Spectacles | Monocles

[that-butler]

MUSE CHARACTERISTICS & AESTHETICS:

BOLD what applies to your muse! Italicize things that apply occasionally or applied in the past!

Repost, don’t reblog.

BODY

Short legs | Long legs | Average legs | Slender thighs | Toned thighs | Thick thighs | Muscular thighs | Skinny arms | Toned arms | Muscular arms | Soft arms | Toned stomach | Flat stomach | Flabby Stomach | Soft stomach | Six-pack | Beer belly | Lean frame | Beefy frame | Muscular frame | Voluptuous frame | Petite frame | Lanky frame | Short nails | Long nails | Manicured nails | Dirty nails | Flat ass | Toned ass | Bubble butt | Thick ass | Small waist | Thick waist | Narrow hips | Average hips | Wide hips | Big feet | Average feet | Small feet | Soft feet | Slender feet | Broad shoulders | Narrow shoulders | Average shoulders

HEIGHT

3'4" or less | 3'5" - 3'8" | 3'9" - 4'0" | 4'1″ - 4'4" | 4'5" - 4'8" | 4'9" to 5'0" | 5'1" - 5'4" | 5'5" - 5′8″ | 5′9" - 6′0" | 6'1" - 6′4″ | 6′5″ or taller

WEIGHT

Less than 100lbs | 100–125lbs | 125–150lbs | 150–175lbs | 175-200lbs | 200–225lbs | 225–250lbs | 250–275lbs | 275–300lbs | 300–325lbs | 325–350lbs | More than 350lbs | Underweight | Healthy weight | Overweight

SKIN

Pale | Light | Rosy | Peaches & Cream | Medium | Olive | Golden | Dark | Warm undertones | Cool undertones | Olive (Warm & Cool) undertones | Neutral undertones | Tanned | Freckled | Blotchy | Smooth | Acne | Dry | Greasy | Soft

EYES

Small | Large | Average | Gray |Gray-Blue | Brown | Black | Blue | Green | Blue-Green | Gold | Hazel | Heterochromatic | Red | Doe-eyed | Bloodshot | Almond-shaped | Wide-set | Close-set | Deep set | Protruding | Squinty | Mono-lid | Epicanthic fold | Heavy eyelids | Downturned | Upturned | Full lashes | Thin lashes | Straight lashes | Curled lashes

LIPS

Pink | Peach | Red | Brown | Dark | Full | Thin | Full upper/thin lower | Thin upper/full lower | Pouty | Plump | Cupid’s bow | Soft | Rough | Smooth | Chapped | Dry | Moist | Warm | Cold |

NOSE

Duchess | Fleshy | Upturned | Downturned | Roman | Aquiline | Bumpy | Snub | Hawk | Greek | Nubian | East Asian | Nixon | Bulbous | Celestial | Smooth | Sloped | Large nostrils | Average nostrils | Small nostrils | Straight | Raised | Lowered

HANDS & FINGERS

Small | Petite | Delicate | Slender | Long fingers | Short fingers | Stubby fingers | Chubby fingers | Meaty | Bony | Pale | Frail | Skillful | Rough | Calloused | Strong | Thin | Thick | Smooth | Soft | Warm | Cold | Frigid | Sweaty | Gentle | Scarred

HAIR

Thin | Thick | Fine | Normal | Greasy | Dry | Soft | Shiny | Curly | Frizzy | Wild | Unruly | Straight | Smooth | Wavy | Floppy | Cropped | Pixie-cut (long) | Shoulder length | Back length | Waist length | Buzz cut | Undercut | Bald | A bit below the jaw | A bit above the jaw | Mullet | Mohawk | White | Platinum blonde | Strawberry blonde | Orange blonde | Golden blonde | Redhead | Dirty blonde | Blonde | Ombre | Light brown | Mouse brown | Chocolate brown | Chestnut brown | Dark brown | Jet black | Ginger (red-orange) | Auburn (red-brown) | Copper | Other Color | Thin eyebrows | Average eyebrows | Thick eyebrows | Groomed eyebrows

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS

Full sleeve | Thigh tattoo | Neck tattoo | Chest tattoo | One tattoo | A few here and there | Wrist tattoo | Back tattoo | Multiple | No tattoo | Monroe piercing | Nose piercing | Septum | Nipple piercing(s) | Genital piercing(s) | Industrial piercings | Earlobe piercing | Prince Albert piercing | Eyebrow piercing(s) | Tongue piercing(s) | Lip piercing(s) | Helix piercing | Tragus piercing | Angelbites | Labret | Stretches out ears | Navel piercing | Inverse navel piercing | Cheek piercing(s) | Smiley | Nape piercing(s) | No piercing

COSMETICS

Eyeliner | Light eyeliner | Heavy eyeliner | Cat eyes | Mascara | Fake eyelashes | Matte lipstick | Regular lipstick | Lipgloss | Red lips | Pink lips | Dark lips | Bronzer | Highlighter | Body wash | Moisturizer | Aftershave | Eyeshadow | Neutral eyeshadow | Smoky eyes | Colorful eyeshadow | Blush | Lipliner | Light contouring | Heavy contouring | Greasepaint | Powder | Matte foundation | Shiny foundation | Concealer | Perfume | Cologne | Deodorant | Wears make up regularly | Wears it from time to time | Uses only light makeup | Never wears make-up

SCENT

Floral | Fruit | Earthy | Spicy | Perfumes | Aftershave | Shampoo/Conditioner | Cocoa | Candy | Moisturizer | Cigarettes | Leather | Sweat | Food | Incense | Marijuana | Alcohol | Cologne | Whiskey | Wine | Fried food | Blood | Fresh Linen | Musk

CLOTHES

Jeans | Tight pants | Leather pants | Dress pants | Over-the-knee socks | Tights | Leggings | Yoga pants | Pencil skirt | Tight skirt | Loose skirt | Tight/formfitting dress | Cardigans | Blouse | Button up shirt | Band-T-shirt | Sports t-shirt | Dress shirts | Sweatpants | Tank top | Fur | Faux fur | Leather | Designer | High street | Online stores | Thrift | Lingerie | Long skirt | Miniskirt | Maxi dress | Sun dress | Tie | Tuxedo | Cocktail dress | High slit dress/skirt | T-shirt | Loose clothing | Tight clothing | Jean shorts | Sweater | Sweater vest | Khaki pants | Suit | Hoodie | Harlem pants | Basketball shorts | Boxers | Briefs | Thong | Hotpants | Hipster panties | Commando | Bra | Sports bra | No bra | Crop top | Corset | Ballerina skirt | Leotard | Polka dot | Stripes | Glitter | Silk | Lace | Satin | Velvet | Chemise | Patterns | Florals | Neon colors | Pastels | Black | Dark colors | Neutral colors

SHOES

Sneakers | Slip-ons | Flats | Slippers | Sandals | High heels | Kitten heels | Ankle boots | Combat boots | Knee-high | Platforms | Stripper heels | Dress shoes | Bare feet | Loafers | Oxfords | Gladiator shoes

JEWELLERY & ACCESSORIES

Earrings | Necklaces | Chokers | Collars | Lockets | Watches | Rings | Purity rings | Promise ring | Engagement ring | Wedding ring | Bracelets | Hair ties | Cufflinks | Ties | Bowties | Bolo ties | Brooches | Pins | Bandannas | Hairpins | Crowns | Tiaras | Garters | Anklets | Ribbons | Belts | Umbrellas | Parasols | Bookbags | Briefcases | Satchels | Glasses | Contacts | Spectacles | Monocles

Tagging: @purrfect-butler​ and anyone else reading!!! >:3c

Tagged by: @ominasapphirus