#dessert pizza issues

[simandy]

I have long wondered why you guys are so opposed to dessert pizza and i think i have cracked the code. So I know that one pizza was ABSURD but i really need to tell not-brazilian people that: it doesn't matter which type of dessert pizza you're looking at online, THERE IS NO TOMATO SAUCE UNDER THAT. NO PEPPERONI. NOTHING SALTY. ONLY CANDY!!! The sauce is chocolate! The pepperoni are M&M's! If you see a dessert pizza with tomato sauce please call the cops!

[shadowtraveled]

god. wait until u guys find out i like in n out too

[tpwk-formula1]

Hiiii! <3 Could i order a pizza Thick Crust with red sauce, artichokes, spinach, Roasted Mushrooms and shallots for drinks i would like to have a root beer and sweet tea and a dessert, with Lewis Hamilton <33 ( if you like with a totowolf!reader) thank u bae 

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex artichokes "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use" spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" roasted mushrooms "fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” shallots "I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you" root beer daddy kink sweet tea dumbification dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x wolff! reader

TW - rough sex, unprotected, slight dumbification, subspace (if you squint) fingering, LITTLE bit of car play, creampie, oral (m and f receiving)

WC 1600+

Y/N POV

"Let's go, please," I say softly to Lewis who had taken me shopping but now I was ready to get back to his place.

"You're quite impatient," Lewis chuckled softly but still took my hand and lead me to the exit.

"Lew, just need you," I admit softly when we get to valet clenching my thighs together trying to stimulate myself as much as possible.

"Quit it! Someone is gonna notice you clenching your thighs like a whore," Lewis whispers into my ear while giving my side a warning pinch.

"Yes daddy," I whisper back as the young man pulls in front of us with one of Lewis's car.

When we get back into the car Lewis's hand is instantly on my thigh giving it a strong squeeze making me whimper slightly.

"Are you always such a needy whore? Had to leave early because you need my dick?" Lewis questions me with a teasing tone.

"Haven't seen you in awhile," I admit softly while Lewis squeezes my thigh again.

"I want you to fuck me when we get back to your place, please," I say to Lewis softly.

"That's what you want?" Lewis questions while slowly moving his hand up my thigh and under my dress finding my soaked panties.

"You're fucking soaked," Lewis states while teasing my pussy through my panties.

"Please daddy," I beg while leaning back and spreading my legs for Lewis.

"Can't even make it home?" Lewis teases while pulling my panties to the side and sinking 2 fingers deep into my pussy finding my G-spot with no issue.

"Fuck daddy, thank you," I moan out when Lewis starts fingering me at a slowly but consistent pace.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight for me," Lewis grunts out readjusting himself in his pants slightly.

"Oh daddy," I moan while bringing my hand down to my pussy and start rubbing small circles on my clit.

"You're not cumming until we're back to my place," Lewis tells me sternly when he feels my pussy clenching clearly getting close to the edge.

"Daddy, please," I cry out when I feel myself close to the edge.

"No," Lewis states sternly while pulling his fingers out of my pussy and roughly pulling my hand away before sending down several rough slaps down on my pussy making me jump and whimper each time his rough hand landed.

"Daddy," I cry out trying to bring my hand down to my clit but each time Lewis would just slap my hand away.

"Wait," is all Lewis tells me making me move my panties back into place and sitting up trying to compose myself.

"Stop clenching those thighs together. Sit with your legs slightly spread," Lewis tells me while holding my thigh away from my other one.

"We'll be home in a few minutes, just be good," Lewis tells me while we drive the rest of the way back to his place. When we park I make quick work of getting all the shopping bags out the car and up into Lewis's apartment before I'm taking his hand into mine and leading him into his bedroom where I'm instantly pulling his mouth onto mine.

"So fucking desperate," Lewis groans against my lips as he helps me pull off his shirt only detaching our lips when we pull it over his head.

"Need you right now daddy," I whine against his lips as I finally get his pants unbuttoned and pulled down with his briefs while I push him down to sit on the edge of the bed before I get down on my knees and pull his heavy cock into my mouth.

"Fuck," Lewis groans when he feels my lips wrap around the tip of his cock.

"Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use," Lewis teases as he starts pushing my head down to take more of his cock into my mouth. I'm sure if my father knew about what Lewis and I got up to in our downtime I'm sure he would've been a whole lot less heartbroken when we found out he would be moving to Ferrari next season.

When I feel Lewis hit the back of my throat I gag around him but he doesn't seem to care because he pushes me down even further making me take his full length.

"Fuck, always take me so well," Lewis grunts making me look up at him to find his dark eyes hooded yet still swimming with lust.

I start bobbing my head gagging almost every time I hit the back of my throat but it doesn't slow me down in anyway just enjoy the way I was making Lewis feel good.

"Fuck," Lewis grunts while pulling me off his cock by my hair.

"Get on the bed," Lewis tells me making me climb into bed and lay down on my back not entirely sure what position he wants me in but knowing he would easily be able to readjust me however he needed.

Lewis climbs back into the bed and instantly is pulling my dress up and off my body leaving me in just my soaked panties since I hadn't worn a bra today.

"Fuck, such a pretty little thing," Lewis says while trailing his fingers down my sides making goosebumps appear across my skin.

Lewis leans down and pulls my mouth into his for a heated make out session because I feel him start moving his mouth from mine down to my neck where I feel him sink his teeth into my sweet spot and start giving me little hickeys all over my neck and collarbones.

"I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you," Lewis says while sitting back and taking in the sight in front of him. He softly pokes at a few of the marks he left before he starts leaving open mouth kissing on my tummy before he's ripping my panties off making me whimper at another pair gone.

"I just bought you 20 new pairs, I can rip an old pair up," Lewis tells me when he sees I'm not happy with them being ruined.

"Please daddy," I whine when I feel Lewis softly trailing his finger up my pussy lip but never once dipping into my folds.

Lewis finally leans down and takes a small lick through my folds only grazes my clit softly making me more needy.

Lewis finally gives me what I want after he feels likes he's teased me long enough before he sits up and lines his large cock up with my pussy and instantly slide all the way in and starts fucking me giving me no time to adjust.

"Fuck daddy," I cry out when I'm finally filled the way I've been needing to be.

"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock." Lewis grunts out in a teasing tone, poking fun at the fact that he had successfully stretched me out to take his cock with no problem.

"Daddy," I cry out when Lewis continuously hits all my sweet spots only bringing me towards the orgasm I had been chasing on and off all afternoon.

"Fuck, I can see you daddy," I moan when I notice the small bulge Lewis was creating because he was so deep in my pussy. I press down on his cock through my tummy making me moan out loudly while Lewis just hisses at the next added pressure.

"Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Lewis grunts out while replacing my hand with his and pushing down even harder than I was pushing.

"Shi- Fu- Da- Lew- Fuck," I moan stumbling over my words struggling to find what I'm trying to say.

"Fuck, haven't even cum for me yet and I already fucked you dumb," Lewis groans out while still fucking into my pussy at a brutal pace.

"Daddy, mo- fuck more," I stutter my words again making Lewis look at me with a raised brow.

"Can't even form a sentence like this and you think you can handle more?" Lewis questions in a condescending tone.

"Please," I cry out, making Lewis instantly speed up his pace throwing me over the edge almost instantly.

"Fuck, came for me so good," Lewis grunts out while still fucking into my quaking pussy. I was still cumming all over Lewis's cock when he sends a final rough thrust deep into my pussy and unloading a massive load deep into me.

"Fuck daddy," I whine when I can feel Lewis's cum painting the gummy walls of my pussy. Once Lewis has rode out his orgasm he slowly slips out from my abused pussy before leaning down and placing a kiss on my forehead before slipping out of the bed and grabbing his discarded shirt from the ground and walking over to clean me up.

"No, daddy," I whine out when I feel him touch my overly sensitve pussy.

"Baby, I'm Lewis, it's over, just gonna clean you up a little. Relax for me love," Lewis tells me softly while still attempting to clean me up.

Once Lewis has cleaned me up the best he can without overstimulating me further he tosses the shirt back onto the ground and grabs a clean shirt from his closet before slipping it onto my body. Lewis finally climbs into bed once he's put a pair of fresh briefs on. He pulls me to his chest where he lets me relax into him and come back to reality.

"Lew, that was perfect," I tell him softly while running my fingers up and down his chest allowing for goosebumps to form on his skin.

"Ya? I'm glad. I'm also glad you're coming back to me know," Lewis states while looking down at me and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Not my fault," I grumble hiding into Lewis chest while he laughs softly.

"What can I say, I enjoy you stumbling over your words," Lewis laughs making my face go red just thinking about how good he is.

[love--bites]

I have this friend that I haven't seen in a year. Last time I saw them, they were skinnier than me and barely ate when stopping by. They didn't ask for snacks or anything to eat unless I was already planning on eating something. That's all fine and good, but I saw them again after about a year...

They had clearly put on at least 100 pounds, potentially 150, and I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I assure you that I'm not. When the couch barely made a sound before, it creaked and groaned against their weight. When they had no issues getting around, going up the stairs left them out of breath. When the floorboards were silent with their footsteps, they now stepped heavily around the house with the boards creaking loudly underneath them. Even their clothes, which had to be new, were struggling against their overstuffed belly.

The first thing they did was ask me for something to eat, so I gladly made them ramen. They requested two packets and a soft-boiled egg, and I gladly provided. After their meal, they asked for snacks, so I willingly gave them whatever they wanted - all that I had. They finished an entire box of cheezits and a half of a second box. They also finished half a box of cookies. They wanted hot chocolate to go with this, so again, I provided, making sure to add extra whip cream and small marshmallows. As much as I tried not to, I found myself sneaking a glance at their shirt that was now riding up on them slightly as their belly hung over their pants.

They told me they were still hungry and somewhat reluctantly asked if I had anything left to eat. I happily agreed and made a full pizza, not expecting to eat a single bite of it myself. I brought the pizza over to the kitchen table, and they took a seat, the wooden chair creaking loudly as they did so. After I added some extra cheese on top, they took a slice and quickly devoured it. Then they took another, and another. I kept them talking as they ate, somewhat of a distraction, and before they realized it, they had eaten the entire pizza. I could tell their pants were barely clinging to them, and it was clear their shirt was riding up much more than it had been before. They looked stuffed, and I could see a look in their eyes that said, "If I eat any more, I'll pop."

Their stomach, however, disagreed with their comfort and growled. Clearly embarrassed, they tried to play it off, but I knew better. I grabbed them a dessert - a tub of strawberry ice cream, a small slice of chocolate cake, ice, extra sugar, a bit of cinnamon, and a half pint of heavy cream. I pulled out my blender and made a delicious and thick milkshake. How many calories it was, I can't exactly say, but I had to be a good host to my starving friend, no? I couldn't let them go hungry.

I handed them a glass of the drink, and, hesitantly at first, they started politely drinking, but as they continued, their polite sips turned into desperate gulps, as if they hadn't drank anything in ages. They chugged the drink down - one glass became two, and two became three, and so on until the drink had been finished entirely. Their breathing was a bit more labored as they sat, seemingly pinned to their chair by their weight, and with one final gulp of their glass, the button on their pants flew off, and their belly spilled out of the far-too-tight jeans. They were extremely embarrassed, but of course, I reassured them, letting them know that it just meant there was more room to eat their fill.

As their belly hung out, filled to the brim with food, it growled, begging for more. My friend's expression said that they could barely handle more, but their stomach clearly had other ideas. With a polite smile, I asked, "Are you still hungry?"

[snek-of-eden]

TOS BONES HEADCANONS

He’s mildly allergic to bees. Not enough to be dangerous, but enough that he keeps a hypo spray for it in his pocket any time he’s on shore leave on earth. Jim finds this supremely annoying, since he himself will swell up into a big puddle of allergic reaction when he comes within twenty feet of a bee

He used to do drag in his twenties as an escape from the pressures of Academy studies. His drag name was Miss Mal Practice and he would wear so much glitter that both he and Jim would find it in their sheets for weeks. When he graduated he gave it up, but near the end of the first 5 year mission, Uhura and Spock team up to try and get him to teach them a few things. After that, Enterprise Drag Nights become a monthly phenomenon.

Both he and Scotty are asexual, though to different levels. Bones is super sex neutral and indifferent, he’s experimented his fair share but sexual attraction has never exactly made sense to him from personal experience.

He was an incredibly lonely child, whose family was always busy and had barely any time for him. He has three older siblings who’d gone off to college by the time he was around eight, and he spent a whole lot of time hanging out in the dry barns with the calico cats on their property, doing homework or lighting shit on fire for fun.

When he dies, he wants to be cremated. This is in part because he has a strange connection to fire, and in part because he’s absolutely terrified of tightly enclosed spaces. To be buried in a coffin? His worst nightmare.

Generally he’s pretty ambivalent towards sugary things, but any Italian dessert is his Achilles heel. He coerced Scotty into tinkering with one of the replicators until it got the recipes for crostoli, tiramisu, cannoli, amaretti and panatone just right, and they have weekly dinner dates with plenty of alcohol.

Bones is FTM and uses he/him and they/them pronouns. He knew he was a guy from really early on and started taking HRT around age eleven. He never needed top surgery, but got bottom surgery around age twenty-five. He’s the most trans cis man you can imagine, and while he doesn’t flaunt that part of him, he’s more than happy to discuss it to those who are genuinely curious for a juxtaposition to their own gender journey.

He has that innate urge to fight in him, not just verbally but physically. It caused him to get into a lot of trouble in school, before he got his act together and reigned in that part of him (later, he learned he’d started masking a lot). Jim’s friendship is incredibly beneficial to him because they’re both touchy people with a lot of pent up energy. Many a night on the Enterprise is spent getting into heated conversations on Jim’s bed and ending up tussling on the floor. Sometimes Spock watches, but it’s rare that he joins in. The play fights are a tension reliever, and help a lot with anger management.

There’s definitely been a couple times he’s gotten his nose broken, most of them courtesy of his own brash stupidity.

He gets a lot of intrusive thoughts.

He’s a firm advocate that pineapple on pizza is satan’s invention and anyone who enjoys it can fuck right off. Jim loves pineapple on pizza: both Bones and Spock have nearly disowned him for this at least twice.

On shore leave, he wears the most garish Hawaiian print shirts in every colour of the rainbow, and flaunts them with all the pride of a world-renown catwalk model.

He and Scotty are in a devoted queerplatonic relationship. He’s really touch starved and Scotty loves touching people, so a lot of the time they end up cuddling or doing each others hair.

His favourite drink is brandy, but he won’t say no to a glass of iced lemon tea. Don’t tell anybody though, he has a reputation to uphold, for fuck’s sake.

He always ends up sobbing when he listens to opera, because it reminds him of Jocelyn and those memories are painful.

He’s always had food issues, from when he was a teenager. They’re a lot better these days, but when things get stressful he finds it hard to maintain good eating habits. It’s always made him feel bad, because he knows Jim goes through the same thing - but Jim actually has a reason: he was on Tarsus IV. It takes him a long time to open up about it, however.

Surprise parties are on his Top Ten Things I Hate Most list

Yes, he actually keeps a Top Ten Things I Hate list on his PADD, and some of its highlights include: ‘Jim’s infuriating lovey-dovey glances at Spock’, ‘styrofoam’, ‘almost getting killed’, and ‘Spock in general’.

His favourite flavour of ice cream is blueberry

[couldawouldashoulda50]

Never Been Kissed - Part Three - Matthew Knies

Below is part three of my entry for @cellythefloshie's birthday BINGO, featuring Matthew Knies. Again, my 5 tropes (Virginity, Age Gap, Secret Lovers, Meet Cute, Pining) are spread across the 3 parts.

In case you missed it - linking Part One and Two

Warnings/Notes - general smut (p in v), allusions to smut (both m and f oral), swearing. For anyone who read the first two parts, I did adjust the OC's age slightly. I hadn't received any feedback, but after some more research to get a grasp of overall public opinion on age differences in dating, I did change Lana's age slightly.

Celly - I hope you had the most amazing birthday....you are truly one of my favourite writers on here so it makes me happy to try and do something for you. I hope you have enjoyed this journey with Matthew Knies -- I have really enjoyed writing him.

Word Count - 6.7k

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With the promise of their lunchtime rendezvous solidified, the pair went off in their separate directions—Lana heading into the office and Matthew to his condo and then to the gym.

Lana's casual attire—flowy linen pants and a t-shirt—was a clear signal that she did not plan to remain in the office for long. When Ainsley walked in and saw Lana's outfit, with her hair swept up in a loose bun, she knew something was up.

Ainsley approached Lana's office and softly knocked on her door. "Lana… are you okay?"

Lana noticed the concern on her assistant's face and tried to sound reassuring as she fibbed. "I'm fine, but something's not agreeing with me. Since it's slow today, I think I'll take the rest of the day off and deal with this at home."

"Is it like food poisoning or something?"

Lana wanted to tie up the line of questioning quickly and just get the hell out of there. "No—but let's just say my stomach isn't thanking me for the hot dog I had at the ball game yesterday."

"You ate a hot dog? Were you drunk or something? You never eat stuff like that…"

"Yeah, well, now I remember why." Lana rubbed her stomach for extra effect as Ainsley winced in a show of sympathy. "Anyway, call me if there are any issues. Looks like it might be a slow week anyway with the long weekend coming up. A nice relaxed week would be nice before the craziness of September hits."

Ainsley nodded and wished Lana well, telling her to go home and rest before the forecasted downpour begins. Lana felt a twinge of guilt for being untruthful to her assistant, but in this case, the less Ainsley knew, the better. Besides, Lana was aware that Ainsley had veered off the path of truth and accuracy on more than a few occasions.

Although it wasn't because of the hot dog, drinks, or anything else she had eaten the day before, Lana's stomach felt like it was turned upside down. Nervous energy swirled within her as she returned home with a few grocery items and one box of condoms that she painstakingly selected. After seeing so many brands, sizes, sensations, and everything else under the sun in the family planning section of the store, in a panicked state, she called Jason. Lana decided calling her brother would be awkward, and other friends might pry too much, so Jason became her unlikely condom consultant—a role he embraced with surprising enthusiasm.

Lana guesstimated that Matthew might return by about 11:30, so she had time for some personal care. With underarms, bikini line, and legs as smooth as silk, she slathered her favorite lotion from her neck all the way to her polished toes.

She dressed in a simple white t-shirt and loose-fitting pants and went about assembling fresh flatbread pizzas, salad, and some sweet but healthy options for dessert. Lana had no clue what hockey players ate while training, so she was forced to wing it to the best of her ability.

Meanwhile, across the city, Matthew smirked and shook his head as he evaded questions about his recent whereabouts from a few of his teammates, as he quickly packed up to leave the gym. Joe wasn't among those who kept pestering Matthew to come out with them after their session, but being one of his closest friends, he knew something was up with his buddy.

As Matthew smiled and bee-lined it to the door, giving a rather hurried wave to those around him, Joe quickly gathered his things, grabbed his bag, and bolted after him.

"Matty—hold up a sec…" Joe hollered as he ran to catch up to Matthew at the door. With a few long strides, Joe was next to him walking out into the parking lot. Joe chuckled at the determined expression on his good pal's face. "Hot date? Where're you heading off to in such a rush?"

Matthew decided to stretch and manipulate the truth as best as he could. Lying wasn't his forte. "I have an appointment with the realtor—just some things to, uh, you know… finish up—I guess…," his voice trailing off.

"How about we go out to that ping-pong bar tonight—y'know, get some of the boys and get some challenges going?"

Distracted by the rumble of thunder in the distance, Matthew fidgeted, shifting his backpack from one shoulder to the other. "Uh—yeah, maybe… I'm not sure just yet… let me do what I planned to do and I'll let you know after I get a nap in."

Given his recent mood shifts and the fact he'd been a bit of a ghost for the past couple of weeks, Joe had all but expected Matthew to decline. "Yeah? OK… yeah, man… sounds good… shoot me a text then and we'll figure it out."

Matthew hurriedly threw his bag in the backseat of his vehicle, quickly blurted a "I'll message ya later" towards Joe, and promptly sped off, leaving his good friend even more puzzled than before.

As Matthew eased along Dundas Street West, he thought solely about Lana. He knew he might be too young to even have this notion, but he had never known a woman like her. He scoffed at himself, acknowledging how much of a cliché it was to even think the thought. Falling for a bona fide woman—a stunning, successful, electrifying woman—is what Matthew realized he craved. Girls his age were fun, vibrant, and awesome to hang out with, but the influx of women who'd emerged this past season had provided Matthew with a clearer picture of what he didn't want.

Matthew realized he was licking his lips incessantly as the nervousness began to build when he turned onto Lana's street. Drops of rain began to spatter onto his windshield, filling him with anticipation of the hours ahead. Unless something drastic had changed, he would be making love to Lana sooner rather than later, and this time, he was prepared.

Using the garage pass Lana provided him with that morning, he parked his vehicle beside Lana's in the underground lot and used the elevator that stopped directly in her place. Lana knew he had arrived even before the elevator doors had opened, having spotted him on the security monitor in her kitchen. How the sight of him walking across the lot to the elevators felt bizarrely familiar, Lana would never know. It felt as though he was meant to be there all along.

Matthew's face lit up as Lana came to greet him. She was about to ask him how everything went, but Matthew's mouth was already on hers, muffling her words. She couldn't help but smile and chuckle into his kiss before Matthew's kiss became a little more hungry and his grip around her more needful. She closed her eyes and offered everything she had within her to him.

Matthew began to walk them upstairs to her bedroom, but the sight of the prepared lunch stopped him in his tracks.

He looked at Lana bashfully. "Oh—man, everything looks incredible—sorry, I didn't mean to just come in hot like that… I just couldn't help it. We can eat—I don't want anything to spoil."

With a newfound confidence, Lana spoke as she kissed him. "None of it's gone into the oven yet—so… it can wait… if you had something else in mind…," Lana said softly between kisses, followed by a wink.

That's all the invitation Matthew needed. Within minutes, the two found themselves naked in bed, hands and mouths exploring in tandem, drawing out the most erotic sounds from each other.

The now torrential downpour added a glorious backdrop of white noise which accompanied the sweet, suggestive murmurs spoken against each other's warm flesh.

The condom conversation eventually occurred, and they couldn't stop laughing when they discovered the new bounty of latex sheaths that each had brought.

Lana was ready for Matthew, but nervousness continued to twist in her stomach. She bit her lip and tried to catch her breath as she watched Matthew carefully roll the condom down his firmly erect shaft. Like the day before, she fixated on every detail of his cock, and she felt a greater need for him blossom within her.

Matthew's hips pressed against hers as he leaned over and kissed her deeply. She raked her fingers through the longer strands of hair towards the base of his neck before her palms descended across his shoulders and along the ridges of his back muscles.

Lana spoke near his ear. "I think I'm ready, Matthew. Can we try now?"

Matthew nestled his face in the crook of her neck and responded "Yes" while softly kissing along her throat.

He positioned his cock at her entrance, rubbing the tip through her inner pussy lips. Slowly, he guided the head of his cock into her entrance as he gently pushed the full tip inside of her.

Matthew was careful and studied Lana's expressions and movements after she encouraged him to keep going deeper. She moaned and gripped his rock-hard forearms as he gently pumped his hips, allowing more of his shaft to slide inside her.

Matthew's full length was inside of Lana. Their gaze trailed from each other down to watch his cock enter and stroke her inner walls. Matthew noticed Lana start to relax as her initial discomfort began to dissipate. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth fell open, and her head lolled to the side as her hands roamed along all of his well-sculpted muscle groups. He gently worked his thumb around her clit, using the same technique that had brought her such bliss the night before. Steadily, Matthew continued his fluid motions, gliding in and out while he carefully caressed her highly sensitive bud, only stopping to wet his thumb, tasting her on his tongue.

Try as he might to prolong it, Matthew was getting close. He threw his head back, grunting loudly as he pumped Lana a little more quickly. When he heard her moan his name, he stretched out on top of her while her hands grasped onto his ass. Lana cried out and held onto Matthew's body as he tried to maintain his rhythm, but she just felt so good. Matthew gasped out that he was going to cum and gripped the pillow on either side of her head, flexing his muscles as his body spasmed and twitched with his release.

He remained on top of and inside Lana for a moment, breathing heavily, knowing how incredible he felt but unsure about Lana. But when their eyes connected, they shared a moment that was full of awe and amazement as their rapid breathing slowed.

For Lana, she had no expectations of what her first time would be like. She knew there would be discomfort and it wasn't going to look like the glorified Hollywood sex scenes she had seen in movies. But Matthew made losing her virginity feel natural, beautiful, and more enjoyable with his attentiveness and care.

The rain continued steadily into the early afternoon, but the dreariness outside was a perfect recipe for some relaxation, which Lana realized she had been lacking. Barely clothed, the two brought the flatbread creations back to bed and only stayed upright long enough to eat and drink. They kissed, chatted, and laughed while their hands feathered over each other's bodies. As they lay together, she learned about some of Matthew's physical scars, and he learned about the more emotional ones from Lana's childhood.

Eventually, Matthew enveloped Lana in his arms and held her tightly as he settled in for a nap. To Lana, a midday nap was unheard of; however, not long after Matthew's rumbling snores filled the room, Lana's eyes grew heavy, and she nodded off to sleep as well.

She awoke hours later to Matthew's mouth kissing her shoulder and his arm reaching over her to grab his phone. She smiled, hearing him groan and yawn beside her. She could hear him swiping and tapping the screen as she remained still with her back facing him.

Lana stirred slightly to signal she was awake. The typing on the screen ceased, and Matthew promptly set his cell aside. His hands then roamed her body, fondling everything within reach.

"Do you have anything going tonight? Or is it okay if I hang out here? I hope you're not sick of me yet," Matthew said.

She visualized his smile, one she found so disarming that she'd immediately cancel her plans, if she had any.

Lana kissed along Matthew's arm. "No, I have no plans… if you would like to, I would love to have you stay." She shifted her body, turning to face him. "So, you have nothing going on? I thought you boys would be constantly out on the town during this last stretch of summer," Lana said with a grin as she ran the back of her fingers down his cheek.

Matthew had just sent a message to Joe cancelling their potential plans for that evening. He knew he had begun to raise some questions in Joe's mind—questions that he would need to address at some point. But how could he when he really had no idea himself about what he and Lana were—or weren't?

"My buddy—Joe Woll—not sure if you know him?"

Lana nodded her head that she did.

"We had talked about getting together tonight with some of the guys that are in town now. But I just cancelled—I sort of wanted to stay here… hang out some more with you." Matthew seemed a little sheepish, now that he actually heard how the words sounded out loud.

Lana's brows furrowed with Matthew's admission. "Matthew—I hope you didn't feel like you had to stay… I know you have a life too—I'm not looking to get in the way of that."

"I know… I'm just not ready to leave this little space that we're in right now." Matthew's voice trailed off and then he chuckled. "I really like being with you and I want to do so much more of this… like, the last couple of days—getting to know so much more about you—I just—fuck—I think you're amazing…." Matthew's cheeks flushed at his confession, uncertain of whether Lana felt an ounce of what he had been feeling. "I hate asking this but, do you feel the same about me? Sort of like—do you have a picture of what we are… or could be? Maybe I shouldn't even be asking this…."

Lana looked up at Matthew, her expression warm and soft and full of affection for him. It boggled her mind that the soon-to-be 22-year-old would ever consider a relationship with someone well beyond his years.

"I'd like to continue this—whatever 'this' is... spending time together. I'm not sure of the proper label. Dating? Seeing each other?" Lana nestled closer to Matthew's chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin. She paused, then added softly, "But there's something I can't quite grasp."

Matthew shifted to get a better view of her face. He hadn't anticipated Lana's question and had to bite his tongue, allowing her to finish before he spoke.

"Why me? I'm not meaning to sound like I'm putting myself down, but I have tried to consider a few angles—you've got this incredible career ahead of you. You could have your pick of women—women more your age. Young women—models, athletes, whomever—that you can start your young lives together," Lana paused, gathering her thoughts. "I'm just… worried… I have lived my twenties. I'm in a whole other decade than you. And please don't get me wrong, when we're together, I rarely think about our age gap. You're so mature, intelligent, articulate, thoughtful..." She punctuated each compliment with a soft kiss on his chest. Then, worry clouded her face. "But don't you ever worry—if we were to start a relationship—that your family, your friends might feel I'm too old for you? You might even feel that way at some point down the road. I've seen all sorts of relationships with athletes, but this—this with me and you is something entirely different—"

Matthew interjected, shaking his head. "God—no. I know there's still so much we have to figure out about each other, but this being different is exactly what I want. I know I might seem too eager with wanting to spend as much time with you as I can—maybe I come across as immature... but it's because ever since we met, I never want our conversations—our time together—to end. It's like the biggest no-brainer I've ever had. So no—I don't think about whether there's a difference in age… I don't feel anything like that. I just can't ignore how great I feel when we're together."

Lana listened closely to Matthew's words, trying to uncover any red flags in how he viewed her. This didn't appear to be a ruse or him looking for a mother-figure, or anything else of that nature.

"Lana—look, I've been on the other side of things with my past girlfriends, even more than once—when everything becomes an argument, when even the simplest things seem hard, and being around them feels like a chore or an obligation. Fuck, I wasn't even looking to start dating—meeting you took me out at the knees and every single time we were together… you just—you brought out the best of me—and I think I did that for you too. So... if you're willing to give me a shot, I'm all in."

Lana's mind, once again, instinctively drifted into her natural mode of calculating risk. She could certainly see risks with Matthew, not just solely from his age, but questioning whether it was emotion or logic driving his feelings for her. She was in her own struggle between using logic or emotion, which was proving easier said than done.

But as Lana ran her hands down his broad chest, she agreed with him in her mind. He brought out the lighter parts of her personality, and she liked it. "I'd like to try. Take things day by day… spend what time we can with each other. I'm not looking to rush anything, and until we're both comfortable, I would prefer to keep this totally private. Does that sound okay?"

Matthew thought for a moment, reminding himself he had to be patient—this was her first relationship and she was understandably cautious. Matthew lifted her chin and kissed her gently while saying "Absolutely."

The rain subsided just before dinnertime. The two hadn't ventured much beyond the bedroom, and Lana fully and completely reveled in their lazy day together. Matthew's mouth explored more of Lana, and she, in turn, fueled by her fascination and internal drive, gave him her very first blow job. She thoroughly enjoyed the act, but it was the praise she received which made her positively giddy inside.

In Lana's mind, there could never be a comparison for the day she just spent with Matthew. He eased her comfortably into a whirlwind of changes and new experiences. Nothing felt overwhelming. It all just felt exactly as it should be.

In the days leading up to the Friday before Labor Day, Lana and Matthew managed to deftly arrange their respective schedules to maximize their newly sacred alone time. Knowing that Lana would remain up north for two weeks from Labor Day, Matthew pulled out all the stops, with romantic gestures and all-out wooing her before she departed for Muskoka Friday morning.

First, the bouquet of 11 long-stemmed white roses and 11 chocolate-dipped strawberries that arrived the following day. Ainsley delivered the gifts to Lana's office just as she exited the conference room, bidding farewell to her new client. Lana stifled a smile when she saw Ainsley's puzzled expression. She knew her assistant was bursting at the seams to ask the million questions she surely had bouncing in her mind. Lana glided over to her desk, marveling at the perfectly formed rosebuds, blushing as she removed the sealed envelope attached to one of the stems, and another on the box of strawberries.

"LANA—oh my god, it's killing me… who sent you roses and strawberries? Please… I won't tell anyone… please—are you seeing someone?"

Ainsley did not know about Lana's personal history. Although Lana had a good relationship with her assistant, it was after careful observation once Ainsley was hired that Lana saw Ainsley might be a touch too comfortable in sharing the private matters of others.

Lana fibbed. "Just a thank-you from Aryne Tavares for helping Matthew. I'm just going to call her now—I'll stop by your desk afterwards so we can go over some things while I'm away."

Ainsley recognized Lana wasn't eager to dive into a personal chat and quietly closed her office door, stopping to gossip with another sales rep in the break room.

Lana double-checked the door was closed before she opened the first envelope. The card read:

"11 is my new favorite number."

Lana wasn't sure of the reference right away, but it soon dawned on her. Their difference in age.

She chuckled and shook her head, grinning widely as she opened the second envelope.

"Better than beet juice. You can share these at the office—there will be more later."

Lana pressed the card against her heart. There will be more later echoed in her mind.

And there was more.

After Lana sent Matthew a quick thank-you note, they swiftly made plans to meet as soon as she arrived home from the office.

Just as Lana returned home, Matthew arrived at her door with two more bouquets of 11 long-stem roses—one red bouquet and one yellow, as he wasn't sure which color she liked the most.

Matthew also brought a second box of strawberries, dipped in rich Belgian chocolate, which had a dual purpose.

The strawberries, which were later placed on Lana's bare torso, would serve as edible foreplay.

After the delectable appetizer, the sustenance it provided fueled the pair for a marathon in bed. The freedom of knowing they wanted to try for a future together proved to be a powerful aphrodisiac.

Night had fallen, and Lana lay across her bed, breathless. Her skin still rosy and flushed, covered in a light sheen of sweat as she watched Matthew return from the bathroom. He crawled onto the bed, placing kisses over her naked body as she lazily ran her hands through his hair and down his back.

Lana mused that she could get used to this.

___

The Saturday of the Labor Day weekend was picture perfect. Bright and sunny skies, with every shade of blue on display in every direction. Lake Rosseau was still for the moment, the surface of the water would rival the smoothest glass.

Lana and Andrew's shared lakefront home was already buzzing with activity. Their Labor Day shindig was one of the area's most popular get-togethers, as the brother-sister duo were known for their warmth, hospitality, and delicious offerings from local food and drink venues. Lana and Andrew had long ago decided to take turns organizing the annual event. After Lana threw one of their most revered parties the previous year, Andrew and Jason were determined to outdo her this time. This friendly sibling rivalry to host the better get-together likely made their end-of-summer event one of the most sought-after invitations around Port Carling.

Andrew spotted Lana stealing a few moments alone on the south-facing deck of a sitting area. He handed her an espresso, which she hadn't asked for but deeply appreciated.

"Just got a message from Aryne Tavares," Andrew said. "She already RSVP'd for her and John, but it sounds like they have a few guests staying at their cottage. She wondered if we could accommodate some extra mouths to feed. What do you think?" Andrew maintained a straight face until he saw Lana trying not to smile, as she quickly guessed who one of the "extra mouths" might be.

"Drew, this is all yours," she replied, feigning innocence. "If your numbers say yes, then there's your answer."

"Aryne mentioned one of their guest's names is Matthew Knies. Ring any bells?" Andrew teased.

"You're such a donkey sometimes, Drew. Total jackass." Lana scoffed and bumped against him.

"I actually cannot wait to meet him. See the guy that's lifted all of that shit off your shoulders that our mother laid on you. Did you know he was up for the weekend?"

"He messaged me that he was staying with John and a few teammates for the weekend. Said he hoped that he could stop by for a bit."

“Well, once we’re all cleaned up here after the party, Jason and I are going on a little road trip, so your two weeks alone will be starting tomorrow. Although, the alone thing…maybe not so much anymore, eh?”

Lana chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Sound carries like crazy up here but the glass doors are sound proof - I recommend keeping them closed if you and Matthew are - you know…”

“Jesus Andrew - will you stop?” Lana laughed.

“I forgot to mention - well done too….Jason and I were watching some press conferences… he sure looks like he’s got stamina. Built like a brick shithouse, as they say….”

“Fuck - I’m outta here…you’re too much…”

Lana stood up but stopped to wrap her arms around her brother. “I love you, Drew.”

“Love you to sis. I’m happy for you. Jason and I both are.”

—

Matthew spotted Lana first. Her naturally wavy hair flitted in the breeze with the ends brushing the small of her back. She absolutely took his breath away. She looked happy, relaxed, and incredibly beautiful as the light wind off the lake swept her hair to the side.

The man Lana was speaking to was no less beautiful, and Matthew had to get his bearings and calm his mind before he approached her. It was difficult not to react to the knot in his stomach given how close Lana seemed to be with the unknown man, who appeared athletic, tanned, and pretty much perfect.

Aryne, John, Joe Woll and Fraser Minten (otherwise knowns as Mints), signaled to Matthew that they were heading to get a drink and waved for him to join them. When Matthew indicated he’d be there in a minute, barely taking his eyes off Lana, Joe - in a flash - pieced it together of why his good friend had been so distant since he first started his search for a new place to live.

Joe watched from afar as Lana sensed a presence behind her. She turned around to see Matthew's face, and her own lit up, with bashful adoring smile. Lana approached Matthew and introduced him to the man she had been standing with.

"Matthew Knies—this is Jason Morin, my brother's partner. Jason, this is Matthew."

Jason shook Matthew's hand. "Great to meet you. I'm a really big fan of yours - and the team. Hoping for an amazing season ahead for you guys."

Matthew’s eyes widened once he realized he had misinterpreted the situation. “Oh - Jason - wow, awesome to meet you too. Yeah, it’s going to be an exciting season I think.”

The three chatted for a few minutes before Aryne, John, and the rest of their group made their way over to greet them. Hugs and handshakes and introductions were made and the group fell into mostly a comfortable exchange.

Eventually Lana ushered Aryne back into the grand main cottage - Aryne had her eye on some fixtures and dressings throughout the main room and Lana was glad to give her the details of the designer.

John and Fraser wanted to go explore the massive boathouse and the multi-dock/deck system, leaving Matthew and Joe with their Corona beers. They did a quick cheers and silently surveyed the southern view from the main deck at the back of the cottage.

Joe broke the silence but didn’t turn his head from the view. “Amazing spot.”

“Sure is.”

Joe smirked knowingly. He could tell Matthew was aware that Joe's keen "spidey senses" had picked up on something.

“Lana seems nice. Oh - right - she’s the one that helped you find your new place?”

Matthew fought against wanting to smile. “Yep.”

Joe bided his time and took another sip from his bottle. “Yep. Seems really nice.”

Matthew tried to fight it off but he broke in to a laugh. “Fuck dude - just ask what you want to ask or say what you want to say man - might as well get it over with.”

Joe teased his buddy. “You better work on not cracking under pressure like that - jeez, I was barely egging you on…”

Matthew rolled his eyes and scoffed. “So? What do you wanna know?”

Joe shrugged. “Anything you’re willing to divulge….”

“Well….. Lana and I are seeing each other.” Matthew exhaled deeply without even realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Joe’s eyes smiled for his friend. “Good for you, man - that’s great…”

Matthew nodded and looked around at the groups of party goers that had congregated near the bar. “She wants to keep it private - she’s worried that my family and friends are going to think she’s too old for me.”

“Ahhh - yeah, I get it.” Joe knew Matthew’s family would just want him to be happy but he certainly saw Lana’s point. “How old is she?”

“32. So just over 10 years difference.”

“Shit, that’s not bad at all. You’re 22 next month so yeah, ten years isn’t bad.”

"But… Jesus, Joe. Fuck, I couldn't help it. I swear, she took me out at the knees — first time I saw her, I was standing in her office behind John worrying I was about to pop an awkward boner."

Joe laughed, nearly choking on his gulp of beer.

"I couldn't have cared less about viewing the condos — I probably could've gotten everything decided in the first couple of hours, but I acted all indecisive for weeks, just to see her again. Man — she's just such an amazing person. She really is."

Aryne's voice behind Joe startled him and Matthew. "Is John still down at the boathouse?"

Matthew peered around a few groups of people and pointed John out to Aryne.

"Lana — I'll be back in a sec…," Aryne called over her shoulder as Lana approached Matthew and Joe.

“How are you guys doing? Do you need anything at all?” Lana said as she assessed the remaining beer in each of their bottles. She pointed out so additional food stations that had just been set up and rhymed off the varieties of cuisines, if they were hungry of course.

Joe smiled widely and chatted with Lana briefly before excusing himself, leaving Matthew and her alone together.

Barely moving his lips and pretending to look around, Matthew spoke under his breath to Lana how gorgeous she looked. Blushing, Lana did the same.

She paused for a moment and then asked if Joe knew about them. Matthew glanced downward and then apologetically looked into her eyes. Matthew explained that Joe had guessed - and that Joe was also exceptionally smart and seem to notice….well, everything.

Lana’s soft voice soothed Matthew’s mild panic, telling him it was ok that Joe knew. Her brother and Jason knew so it really was only fair.

Matthew had a sudden need to be alone with Lana and he leaned in towards her. “Think I could get a private tour of the inside?”

Lana’s eyes were directed towards a local power couple as she smiled and waved at them, but her mind was solely on Matthew. “Mmmm…I can give you a tour a little later - I have something else in mind. There’s a main staircase inside - follow it upstairs and I'll meet you up there in about 5 minutes, okay?”

Matthew chuckled and jokingly looked over his shoulder, then back to Lana. “Yes ma’am.”

__

Long after Matthew left with the Tavares’ Saturday evening, and once Andrew and Jason had departed on their scheduled road trip the following day, Loren was alone. She traipsed around from room to room absorbing the tranquility of the house, and the bright a breathtaking scenery outside. She always loved this time of year, and there was an odd satisfaction with taking time off when it felt most were venturing back to the work week and school grind after their summer breaks.

Lana changed into her typical work out attire, and headed down to the lake where her one-person scull awaited her on shore. Lana loved her solo rowing trips, especially on a day where the lake was as quiet as it was.

She rowed the lightweight boat along the shoreline at an impressive speed, concentrating on her tempo, proper posture and breathing. She was far off in her own world inside her mind, and barely glanced at the million dollar lake houses with their enormous floating docks and monster ski boats and jet-skis tied to each one.

After an hour-long trip around the lake, she approached her own dock and spotted a tall figure standing by the swim ladder. She stopped rowing to shield her eyes from the sun to get a better look— unintentionally rocking the boat and squealing a little when she realized it was Matthew.

As fast as she could, she hopped into the water and dragged the boat onto the sandy part of the shore, and ran up towards the gangplank where Matthew was climbing down to meet her.

Lana wrapped her arms around Matthew. “I am so happy you’re here but - I thought you had planned to go back to the city yesterday?” She was still puffing - partly from rowing but mostly from Matthew surprising her.

“Sorry - I hated being sneaky but yeah, I really wanted to surprise you. Worried me a little when I showed up and I couldn’t find you. I came out here and kept seeing a flash of something - it was the sun reflecting off your oars. You’re such a badass out there….”

They strolled up the path and chatted animatedly about the hours that passed when they were apart. They entered the main cottage through the large glass doors just off the kitchen.

Matthew was still in awe of Lana’s lake front setup and as they talked, he would meander off, poking his head in and out of rooms with a “not too shabby” expression on his face.

Lana beamed, looking at Matthew as he approached her, backing her up against the countertop by the kitchen sink. He slowly pressed his mouth onto hers and asked if he could interrupt her "quiet time" and stay for a few days. He would need to make his way back into the city at some point that week, but it was Joe who encouraged him to take the chance, come back to Lana's, and spend time with her before training camp got fully underway.

Lana wrapped her arms tightly around Matthew’s neck, her kiss full of need and desire for him. She was elated that he came back, otherwise, the thought had crossed her mind to leave the cottage, surprise him at his condo door - like they do in so many rom-coms - probably drenched from rain, too.

Every moment that followed, a sense of peace washed over Matthew and Lana, which neither had even known they needed. They simply wanted to be together. Whether they were exploring the beautiful towns nearby, sunning themselves on the dock (Matthew couldn't believe what a rocket Lana was in her bikini), or enjoying dinner for two on the boat as they cruised the lake — anything that allowed them to be near one another.

If their shared sense of peace was a surprise to them, their appetite for each other was not. At the party, after they stole away into Lana's bathroom for a few minutes (in reality it was more like 30), Lana channeled her newly discovered sexuality. Behind the locked door, Lana stripped down to her strapless bra and lace panties, and promptly palmed Matthew's cock through his pants. It wasn't much longer before Lana had her hand over her mouth, stifling her cries of bliss while Matthew kneeled in front of her, her one leg draped over his shoulder as he dined on her.

A "Car Ride" soon took on a completely different meaning after their road trips would extend past sunset. Lana was surprised to find a number of secluded spots to climb onto Matthew's cock and experience heaven — sometimes more than once.

For Matthew, picnics in bed had become a fast favorite. The amount of teasing that they unlocked with various edibles was positively sinful. If things got too sticky or messy, well then a joint shower, and everything that entails, would need to be had.

It was Lana's appetite for Matthew that brought her back to the city early, well before her two-week break had concluded. After Matthew had left their bubble to go back to Toronto to buckle down with training, Lana tried to push past the longing that had settled in deep for Matthew. She knew how to be alone—she had always been comfortable with her own company. But she missed him, plain and simple. As Matthew drove home after a morning skate, he scrambled to press "read" on his dashboard after a text from Lana appeared.

"Good morning, Matty. Would you be around for dinner tonight, or sometime soon? Just arrived home. Was missing someone terribly."

Matthew called Lana immediately.

"You're back?! God—that's really—wow… really good news. I was missing someone pretty badly too." Matthew heard Lana giggle and he felt his heart could burst with happiness.

"So, I was wondering if I could take the someone I was missing terribly out on a date tonight? That is, if he's available?" Lana asked hopefully.

Matthew was positively moony. "Does he have to wait that long—or can you maybe fit him in before tonight? Like, maybe now, if not sooner?"

Lana's smile could be heard in her voice. "I can. I'll meet you at yours in the next half-second."

Matthew's cock twitched at Lana's suggestive tone, and he let out a little groan. "See you soon then."

The afternoon was mostly spent horizontal—limbs intertwined and lips connected to each other in every way possible.

They slowly peeled themselves off each other, enjoyed a long and lazy shower, and got ready for their date. Matthew peppered her with questions as to where they were going, and Lana simply answered, "To dinner… and then I guess we'll see after that."

The only other hint she gave Matthew was that she was taking him to her favorite restaurant.

From a window seat atop the ManuLife Centre, 51 floors up, Lana gazed out at one of the most stunning sunsets she'd ever seen—a breathtaking display of reds, oranges, and purples. It felt as if the universe itself was sharing a knowing wink with her. She had gotten her wish - and what a redemption this was from the last time she sat in this restaurant.

The only thing that surpassed the outside view was the man she sat across from. His magnetic charm, disarming looks, with a genuinely kind heart.

Matthew Knies had been well worth the wait.

[messinwitheddie]

Squee "I'm so sorry"

(Great; I brought up something upsetting.)

"When did your Johnny pass away?"

Mr. Casarez "He's still alive. At least I hope he is. I lost custody of him when was 3-- almost 4. It's been well over 20 years since I've seen him."

Squee "Oh...

"Have you tried to track him down or contact him?"

Mr. Casarez "A few times. So far, no luck. His trail goes cold after a while. It's like he just dropped off the earth in the early 90's. I hope to God he's living a good life somewhere, not dead in an alleyway or worse. I might never know."

[In the trailer]

Nny "Rrrr!! Stupid--! How could one hobbling old drunkard track this much mud? Rrrr!!"

Noise "Liszt, hu? I'm more into Chopin, personally, but there's no accounting for good taste."

Mr. Casarez "At this point, maybe I should just give up looking. He was probably better off never knowing me growing up. The best thing I could do for him now is stay out of his life."

Squee "I don't think that's true, Juan."

Mr. Casarez "Wouldn't you be disappointed if you wondered who your father was your whole life and one day you meet me?"

Squee "I-- I mean--"

[Last page

I haven't been able to draw in forever, so I knew it would come out badly, but I still want to eventually finish this, so I just pooped this out badly. Just don't look at the background too closely XD I'm irritated, Nny looked better when I sketched out that one panel, but I redrew it in the hopes of fixing some issues in the background and noe he looks meh.

Noise is a music snob :]

Mr. C's dialogue was supposed to parallel Nny's dialogue in this post

Starting a new job today. Hoping this one leaves me with more energy and free time. Probably not, but...

So much to draw and my brain wasn't having it.

I love sad aus...]

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Empty Stomach | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This one's for my fellow ED sufferers. I mean, it's for everyone. But like, it's dedicated to those with past or current ED issues. That being said, do not read this if it is going to upset and / or trigger you. I will not be offended. Scroll on by if need be, catch ya next time. No worries, take care of ya mental health. Much love. ✌️💕

WARNINGS: Discussion of past eating disorder (bulimia), vomit, illness

The chill of the tile pushed its way through the fabric of your pajama pants. With your knees pulled into your chest, you sat hunched over on the bathroom floor. Back resting against the wall. Blanket draped over your shoulders. An unopened bottle of Gatorade rested next to you, along with a bottle of water you’d failed to drink.

The time read 3:48am. Three hours of nothing but misery passed surprisingly fast, you thought. It was just after midnight when a strong wave of nausea pummeled into you and forced you from your bed. And since that moment, you found yourself lurching over the toilet every twenty minutes. 

Last night’s lasagna and red wine came up almost violently. And the tiramisu you’d eaten for dessert didn’t taste nearly as good the second time around. Round after round of painful retching disgusted you, made you cringe. Seeing your food make a second appearance only multiplied your already severe nausea. And with the way your night was going, you feared you’d never be able to enjoy Italian again. 

The back of your throat grew scorched with stomach acid. Your nose burned. And the turbulence in your stomach refused to quit. Eventually, your body eliminated your dinner completely. It was gone, flushed away. And you thought you might be done with this whole nightmare. You even ventured back to bed. 

But only minutes after warming the cold sheets with your body heat, you found yourself on the bathroom floor once again. With a vengeance, bile burned its way up your esophagus and forced itself out of your mouth. It seemed to you that this was your punishment for going back to bed. And so, you decided to take up residency in the bathroom for the rest of the night. 

But you needed a blanket- desperately. It just so happened that this misery decided to take place on one of the coldest nights of the year. And if you were to survive till morning, you needed a small piece of comfort. You mustered enough strength to fetch a blanket- Bucky’s favorite blanket- from your bedroom and drag it back to the bathroom. It was sad. Pathetic, even. But holding the soft, woven fabric that smelled like him tight around your shoulders brought a sliver of ease. It wasn’t nearly as good as having Bucky there, but it was better than nothing.

Tik Toks and YouTube videos helped you pass the time between each bout of heaving. You watched every video recommended to you- as long as it didn’t involve food. Just the thought of watching Rhett and Link eat carne asada pizza or Rosanna Pansino make Macha macarons was enough to turn your stomach. Again. 

The throbbing in your head, no doubt a side effect of dehydration, pulled you from the bathroom floor and into the kitchen. You needed water. Electrolytes. And you swore you’d apologize to Bucky for stealing a bottle of his Riptide Rush Gatorade. Not that he’d ever care; he would’ve given you his right arm if you asked for it. 

When you finally settled back onto the bathroom floor with an arm full of drinks, you let yourself feel the sadness that came up with each rush of Vomit. You were too nauseated to drink any of the fluids you sought out. And more than anything, you wished Bucky was with you. Every night that he didn’t spend at your place felt like a night wasted. Without him, your apartment simply wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as comfy or as homey. Didn’t feel as safe. Something was missing. 

Part of you was glad he wasn’t there to see your lasagna resurface, though. It was utterly vile and would surely embarrass you if he were witness. But you missed him all the same. 

Between the violent retching and the bitter cold of late December, every cell in your body trembled. You were weak, cold, miserable. And very, very alone. If Bucky were with you, you knew he’d take care of you. He’d keep you company while your food rebelled against your body. He’d keep you warm. And he’d put a smile on your face, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Ever since you grew close with Bucky, you were there for each other. Took care of each other. It was a given, an unspoken agreement. You wanted to be the other’s support system. The one in their corner. Bucky never felt so safe with anyone, and you returned the sentiment.

He often needed stitches after a mission or talking down after a nightmare, and you were always there. No questions asked. You closed his wounds and held his hand. You pulled him as his body vibrated with panic. Comforting him was a no-brainer. And just as you were there for him, he was there for you. Whether the flu made you cough up a lung or a clumsy step left your ankle twisted, he had your back. He took care of you when you had an allergic reaction to truffle oil and brought you comfort when strep throat stole your voice. 

You treated each other with the utmost care, the deepest affections. You each sat atop the other’s list of priorities, never leaving the number one spot. And by the time you started dating, you could practically read the other’s mind. When he needed you, you were by his side. And when you needed him, he was there. 

But not tonight; tonight, he was at the compound. He’d had a long day of meetings about the Flag Smashers and John Walker that kept him trapped in a conference room for hours. He hoped that with the early start time that morning, he’d be out by dinner. He wanted to return home and snuggle up on the couch with you in his arms. But as 9pm rolled around, his hopes of making it back to you in a timely manner died. 

At 10pm, Rhodey called it. Everyone was tired. Bored. Utterly fried. He dismissed the meeting- with the caveat that they’d reconvene early the next morning. And Bucky wasn’t happy. He dug his phone out of his pocket and gave you a call, voicing his distaste for the seemingly eternal meeting.

“I’m so sorry, doll, it ran long. Really long,” he’d said. “But I’m gonna head your way in a minute, okay? I should be back by…” he looked at his watch and stifled a yawn, “by elevenish.”

“Maybe you should just stay there tonight, Buck. You were up at five this morning- you sound sleepy.”

Bucky shook his head, even though you couldn’t see him. “No, no- I don’t wanna stay here. I wanna come be with you, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather be with you too, but it’s just one night,” you’d told him. “I know you’re exhausted, and I don’t want you driving back if you’re tired. It’s not a good idea. Just sleep there and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bucky sighed. “I just miss you, that’s all. I didn’t get to talk to you all day and now I can’t see you till tomorrow.” All he ever wanted was to be with you.

 “If it weren’t such a long drive, it would be different, babe. But forty minutes of driving with a fried brain doesn’t sound safe.” You crawled into your empty bed and found yourself rolling onto Bucky’s side. The sheets smelled just like him; if you closed your eyes, you could’ve sworn he was home. “I miss you, too. But I’d rather you rest and come home tomorrow in one piece.”

From Bucky’s end of the line, you heard him step into the elevator and press the button for his old floor. “I know, I know. You’re right,” he conceded. “I really am beat. Something about going over the same details a thousand times took it out of me.” He leaned against the elevator wall and let out another yawn, “I’m gonna go to sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay? I love you. So much.”

“Okay, Buck. I love you, baby”.

You hung up the phone, knowing damn well you wouldn’t get much shut eye. Being with Bucky every night always lulled you right to sleep. It was so easy to find peace in his arms that rest never evaded you. But without him, things were different. Your mind wandered. The bed was never as cozy. You stole a book from his bedside table and cracked it open, hoping to tire yourself out. 

After two hours of reading, the nausea hit. Your mouth flooded with saliva and your heart rate jumped. You hadn’t relaxed since.

As you changed position, desperate to find a way to be comfortable on the tile, you wished you lived closer to the compound. If it were a five minute drive from your place, Bucky would've been by your side the second the meeting ended; it was where he belonged. But he couldn't come home- not tonight. And while you were glad he made the safe choice, you wished he was just right down the road.

Bucky spent every night at your place, save for when he was on missions. It was his home, just as much as it was yours. He kept all his clothes there and most of his things. He helped with all the household duties. He even fixed the faulty latches on your windows so that they no longer allowed the cold winter air to seep in. 

But even after all that, he always knocked.

To him, it seemed like the least he could do. It didn’t feel quite right, barging into your apartment as though he owned the place. Sure, he basically lived there. But you didn’t make him help with rent- no matter how many times he offered. You knew he didn’t have much regarding monetary wealth. And his job didn’t exactly pay a salary. So, you never asked for his share of the monthly dues. It didn’t even cross your mind; you were just happy to have him there with you. 

It was kind of you, Bucky had no doubt about that. But it didn’t feel fair. So, he saved the key you gave him and swore to use it for emergencies only. He opted, instead, to knock and wait for an invitation inside. ‘Like a vampire’, you always joked. 

You checked the time once again- 4:01am. This was agony. And in your exhausted state, you found yourself missing Bucky more than usual. With the energy drained from your body, your emotions had room to grow in size. And the feeling that grew the biggest was your longing for him. Here you were, in your most vulnerable state, without the love of your life. He was almost an hour away, incapable of bringing you comfort in your time of need. 

And while spending one night apart wasn’t the end of the world, it surely wasn’t ideal- especially when you felt like death. 

But as you thought about how different things would be with Bucky there, you realized: even if he was home, you wouldn’t have woken him. Sleep often evaded him; and back before he found you, he never got more than an hour of uninterrupted rest at once. But with your help, he was getting better. He was sleeping more and waking up screaming less. Sure, it was a slow process, but there was hope for him. 

And so, waking him for something as innocuous as food poisoning simply wouldn’t be right. If this were an emergency, things would be different. But if he lay sleeping in the next room while you puked up bad lasagna, who were you to wake him?

Knowing that he was home would’ve made your situation a touch more bearable, though. It would’ve been enough to bring you comfort. Even having the option to crawl into bed next to him or feel his hand in yours would ease some of the misery, even if you couldn’t leave the bathroom long enough to do so. 

Miserable, you shot a quick text to Bucky:

Been puking my guts out all night :(

The intention behind the message wasn’t to upset him when he read it the next morning. Or to make him feel bad for not coming home to you. You just wanted to complain, to vent some of your negative feelings. And only for a second. It wasn’t often that you felt sorry for yourself, especially not when you knew how much Bucky suffered. But this was a moment of weakness. And now matter the horrors Bucky went through, he always listened.

Your forehead fell against your knees and your chin rested on your chest. A deep sigh filled your lungs. God, you were tired. Utterly spent. Voiding your body so aggressively drained every ounce of your energy. 

You missed your bed. Missed resting in Bucky’s arms and listening to his heartbeat as you laid on his chest. You needed a respite, a quick break from the misery. With a yawn, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut and your phone to slip from your hands. And for the first time that night, you actually drifted off to sleep.

But a persistent thudding noise pulled you awake half an hour later. It roused you from the rest your body so desperately needed, and just as you wondered what caused it, saliva rushed into your mouth. You ditched your blanket and knelt forward just in time for more acidic bile to push past your lips. It burned inside your nose and made your eyes water, but the sound of your front door opening pulled your focus. 

“Baby?” Bucky shouted from down the hall.

A reply sat on the tip of your tongue- but drowned in another wash of vomit. 

The heaving, retching sounds coming from the bathroom sent a rush of anxiety through Bucky’s system. He fled in your direction and burst through your bathroom door as his heart hammered against his ribs.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he knelt by your side and took in the scene before him as you caught your breath. You, his best girl, getting sick. Very sick. He clocked the blanket on the floor, your dead phone- you must’ve been in here a while. “Hey, what’s going on, doll?” His tone was soft and his words gentle. But the worry in his voice was unmistakable.

It took a few long moments for you to recover. “I got food poisoning from the Italian place on 9th,” you rested once more against the wall. “I ordered take out for dinner and it was clearly a mistake.” Just the thought was enough to make you sick again, but you powered through.

“Oh…” A sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest. “Oh, I thought you were-” he didn’t finish his sentence. But his shoulders relaxed and the tension in his brow dissipated. He wrapped the blanket around you and pulled you gently into his side. 

“What, Buck?”

“Nothing, doll. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” He cracked open your Gatorade and offered it to you, “can you drink some of this for me? We need to make sure you stay hydrated.” 

Something lingered under Bucky’s words. And though your mind was a bit foggy from the exhaustion, you put two and two together. “Oh, you thought… you thought I relapsed?” 

Bucky nodded.  

Back when you’d only been dating for about a month, you decided to be honest with Bucky. He was truthful with you about his past and the PTSD that followed; it wasn’t fair of you to keep things from him. And so, you opened up to him about your past issues with food. With your body image. The way you used to force yourself to vomit until there was nothing left. Or until you tasted blood. He knew all about your struggle to recover and the way that, sometimes, those dark thoughts still tempted you to void your system. 

He listened and expressed admiration for your perseverance. He told you he was proud of you. He was so happy that, every day, you chose recovery. He kept an eye on you after you told him, watching for any signs of distress. But you’d done so well. You kept the promise you made to yourself. And just a few weeks ago, when the two-year anniversary of your last forced purge passed, he spent the day showering you in praise and congratulations.

“I know you’ve been doing really well- I didn’t mean to assume anything. But I saw your text-”

You frowned, more worried for him than yourself. "Why were you awake?"

“Couldn't sleep," he said. "And when I tried to call, you didn’t answer.” He felt another surge of anxiety flood his system, “I got nervous. I needed to come check on you.”

Your lack of energy kept you from climbing into his lap or throwing your arms around his neck. Instead, you nuzzled closer to him. Let your head rest on his chest. It was all you could manage. “Buck, you’re so- I didn’t mean to scare you, babe. Probably should’ve given you some context. My bad.”

He shook his head, “no, don’t worry about it, doll. I would’ve come anyway- you’re not feeling well, I couldn’t let you be here all by yourself.” He pulled you a bit closer, “I’m just glad you’re okay. Well, not ‘okay’ cause obviously, you’re sick. But I’m happy you’re not that kind of sick.”

Bucky once again offered you the bottle of Gatorade, which you finally accepted. A few small sips rinsed most of the lingering vomit taste from your mouth. “You weren’t supposed to drive…” you said after a while.

“I know. But you’re sick.” He prompted you to keep drinking. “And if you were, um…” he didn’t like saying the word.

“Relapsing.”

He nodded. “If that was happening, I thought you might need me.” Truth be told, he would’ve done anything for you. Killed for you. Died for you. He’d burn the world and everyone in it- all for you. 

“That’s an understatement,” you gave a weak laugh. Your raw throat throbbed. “But we agreed you wouldn’t drive, Buck. You were supposed to sleep.”

He shrugged, “I couldn’t. Turns out I’ve grown accustomed to sharing a bed with you. Can’t sleep if I don’t have ya with me, sweetheart.”

It was sweet, yes, but struck a nerve. “Wait, so… you don’t sleep on missions?”

He shook his head.

“Buuuuuuck-”

“I know, I know. But I try- I always try. I swear. It just doesn’t work.”

With that, you found yourself lurching forward once again. Your eyes watered and tears ran down your cheeks. A painful force pushed out what little remained in your system. 

“Wow, you have really strong feelings about me not sleeping.”

At his stupid joke, a small laugh rumbled out of your chest- followed by more vomit. Coughs and sputters rattled out of your chest. Saliva dripped from your chin.

And though you knew you weren't done with this bout of retching, you wouldn't let him off the hook. "You need rest, Buck. And if you haven't slept, you shouldn't drive. It's not-" A flood of bile interrupted you.

“Okay, alright. I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. But we can talk about it later,” he said, easing a hand up and down your spine. “Just let me take care of you for now, okay?”

And he did. No matter how many times your body violently emptied, Bucky had your back. He kept you hydrated, even when you didn’t want to be. And held you close between bouts of heaving. He kept you company. Kept your spirits high, regardless of how awful you felt. And no matter how tired he was, he stayed awake with you. He freed himself from the clutches of exhaustion and kept only you in focus, never allowing sleep to win. He wouldn’t rest- not until you did.

Every few minutes, he checked his watch. Timing the space between each instance of nausea helped him anticipate your movements. Your needs. And just like you said, they attacked every twenty minutes.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” you muttered, your head resting in his lap. Your eyelids fluttered and your words came out soft, breathy. “Even though you weren’t supposed to drive… I’m happy you made it home.”

Bucky ghosted a finger across your cheek, “So am I, doll.” 

Your eyes were fully closed now, and you’d fallen silent. Bucky hoped you’d finally been able to fall asleep. And then, out of nowhere, you spoke, “And you used your key.” Though opening your eyes was too much work, a warm, satisfied smile pulled at your lips. 

Bucky, too, smiled. “I did,” he said. “Had to. Needed to get to you.”

A happy hum left your chest and you nuzzled against Bucky’s thigh. “Thank you… Love you, Barnes.”

“Love you, baby.”

And finally, you were out. Bucky kept his eye on the time. Twenty minutes passed. Then forty. And when an hour went by without you stirring, Bucky sighed with relief. “I’m taking you to bed…” he whispered, though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He snaked his arms around you with the utmost care and lifted you from the cold tile floor. He held you close to his body, almost as though he were shielding you from something. 

“Thank god it’s only food poisoning,” he whispered in the quiet of your apartment. He remembered the pure dread than sunk in his stomach the moment he read your text. Your words painted a vision in his mind, a horrible picture of you forcing nutrients out of your system. He shook his head at the thought. “I was really scared for you tonight.”

He placed you on your side of the bed and wrapped the covers around you, protecting you from the biting winter air. A quick double back to the bathroom allowed Bucky to retrieve your water and Gatorade, and a trip to the kitchen supplied you with extra. Just in case you needed more.

And when everything was set just so, he stripped out of his clothes and finally climbed into bed. “See? Knew I should’ve just come home, doll.” This was all he wanted all day. He got himself settled under the covers and molded his body to yours. He was supposed to be here- right here- next to you. At all times. It was better for you, better for him. 

Peace settled over your bedroom and Bucky felt exhaustion pulling him under- until an alarm sounded in his head. He quickly scrounged around in the dark for his phone and, against his will, removed himself from the bed. He was so close to getting some rest, to spending the night tucked closely next to his best girl- but of course, something had to get in his way.

 He scrolled through his contacts with a sigh and found the name he needed before pressing call. James Rhodes didn’t particularly like Bucky. And definitely wasn’t happy that his least favorite person decided to call in the wee hours of the early morning. But the least Bucky could do was give him a heads up. 

“I’m not coming in tomorrow. My girl’s really sick and I need to be with her.”

Rhodes couldn’t believe Bucky called him so late- or, early- to give him such inconsequential news. “Um, okay. That sucks, I hope she feels better. But people get sick, Barnes. She’ll be okay. I still expect you to attend tomorrow-”

“No, I’m not leaving her here by herself. That’s final.”

Rhodes tried to form a rebuttal, but Bucky ended the call. He even shut off his phone for good measure. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart…” he whispered, climbing back into bed. “But I’m all yours tomorrow. Well, let’s be honest, I’m all yours for the rest of time. But you know what I mean.”

Once again, he wriggled under the covers and snuggled close to you. You didn’t move when the bed dipped under his weight, nor did you stir when he curled around you. He knew you were so depleted, so spent that you wouldn’t wake until noon- if then. 

“I’m so glad you texted me,” he whispered into the dark. He let a hand trail up and down your arm, pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “And I’m so- I’m so glad you’re alright.” He fidgeted and maneuvered himself, wishing he could scoot closer to you. But every surface of his body was already pressed to yours; he big-spooned you so intensely that not even a millimeter-sized gap remained. Still, he wasn’t close enough. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.

“But even if you weren’t- if you actually had um… if you-” he swallowed hard, “if you relapsed, I’d be here. I always will be- through all of it. No matter what happens. I don’t care how far away I am, I’ll find a way to get to you. I promise.” 

With his promise spoken, a weight lifted from Bucky’s shoulders. He didn’t like thinking about you getting sick again, about your mind sabotaging your body like that. He knew it was possible, though. His own mental health hadn’t always been stellar, and he knew how easy it was to slip into the darkness. But the last time you battled your demons, you were alone. You kept your struggle a secret and didn’t bother resisting the downward spiral.

Bucky hoped that having him would make things easier if you ever did fall down that slippery slope once again. Not that being in a relationship could save your mental health- he knew well enough that that wasn’t possible.

He just thought that having someone by your side- someone who loved and supported you without judgement- would give you the strength you needed if the monsters ever came calling again. It certainly worked for him. Allowing you into his life kept him from the precipice on more than one occasion; he just hoped to do the same for you, if need be.

He knew you trusted him exactly the way he trusted you, and it granted him solace. He knew that if, heaven forbid, things ever got bad for you again, you’d let him help you. You’d be truthful with him about your struggles. You'd lean on him, go to him for support. Knowing that you had a safety net allowed him to breathe easier. And finally, after over twenty-four hours spent awake, Bucky fell into a deep sleep.

—————————————

Taglist: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot  @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo

[sublieu]

What I think Lego monkie kid characters favorite fast foods are.

This is strictly just head canons so if you don't like it then that's ok, I have an opinion and you yours.

Mk: KFC. I also think he likes the desserts that he buys from there as well. He's a bit upset about KFC not issuing out unlimited drinks after COVID but he definitely orders from there.

Mei: Popeyes. She likes the spicy food and fries and she loves the popcorn chicken there as well, she drinks either coca cola or lemon soda with the chicken.

Pigsy: Burger King, he liked that they're fast with their food and orders a burger for Tang sometimes when he asks cause Tang can be picky on the fast food he eats(except for pigsy, he loves his husband's noodles)

Tang: Depending on his mood he either goes for Wendy's or Little Caesars. Absolutely despises going to other pizza places for some reason and occasionally eat burgers from Burger King.

Sandy: I believe that he's a vegetarian but for this one time he looks like somebody that eats subway sandwiches. He even gets a coupons and cards there for deals and event food.

Nezha: Pizza Hut and Little Caesars. He fucking LOVES their pizzas since he can order them online or on call and they'll deliver hot for him in less than 2 hours. They can be a bit messy for pizzas sometimes but he doesn't mind at all, he likes eating them while he works and his favorite drink is Pepsi.

Dbk and PIF: Burger King and Pizza Hut, no literally, they will order from them at the same time and get an extra pizza for Redson since he doesn't really like eating burgers.

Redson: Popeyes and Pizza hut, he eats more Popeyes than Pizza Hut but that doesn't matter to him, he loves the popcorn chicken and for Pizza Hut, everytime without fail he orders jerk chicken and green pepper pizza with stuffed crust, Bro cries when he eats cause it's just that fucking good, favorite drink with it is Sprite, the hell juice.

That's all I have for part 1 making part 2 tmrw probably

[simandy]

Time for cleaning your eyes with normal dessert pizza! + a normal oreo pizza that won't send you to the hospital

[iamgonnagetyouback]

What’s your go-to comfort food?

What’s your favorite season and why?

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

Coffee or tea?

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?

Favorite movie to watch on repeat?

What’s a hobby you’ve always wanted to try?

Do you prefer the beach or the mountains?

What’s your favorite book or book series?

If you could live in any fictional world, which one?

Do you collect anything?

What’s your favorite holiday?

What’s a song that always makes you happy?

What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?

What’s your go-to karaoke song?

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

What’s a food you refuse to eat?

If you could learn any language instantly, which one?

Favorite Halloween costume you’ve ever worn?

Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Favorite kind of weather?

What’s your dream vacation spot?

Do you have any hidden talents?

What’s your favorite comfort TV show?

If you could meet any fictional character, who would it be?

What’s a skill you’d love to master?

What’s your favorite pizza topping?

Do you believe in ghosts?

What’s the last movie you watched?

If you had a time machine, would you go to the past or future?

Do you prefer dogs or cats?

What’s the weirdest food you’ve ever tried?

What’s the last book you couldn’t put down?

What’s a hobby you wish you were better at?

What’s your zodiac sign?

Do you like spicy food?

What’s the best concert you’ve ever been to?

What’s your dream job?

If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Do you like board games? If so, what’s your favorite?

🍂 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 🍂

Favorite candle scent?

Favorite season of the year?

Favorite childhood memory?

Favorite way to spend a lazy day?

Favorite fast food place?

Favorite snack?

Favorite app on your phone?

Favorite color to wear?

Favorite thing about fall?

Favorite Disney movie?

Favorite place to relax?

Favorite dessert?

Favorite video game?

Favorite quote or saying?

Favorite way to stay active?

Favorite item of clothing?

Favorite flower?

Favorite breakfast food?

Favorite store to shop at?

Favorite fictional couple?

🎃 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 🎃

Hot chocolate or apple cider?

Movie marathon or binge-watching a show?

Cake or pie?

Texting or talking on the phone?

Ice cream cone or ice cream sundae?

Concerts or festivals?

Hiking or swimming?

Chocolate or vanilla?

Cookies or brownies?

Indoor or outdoor activities?

Comedy or horror?

Books or movies?

Long walks or long drives?

Shopping online or in-store?

Early bird or night owl?

Pastels or bold colors?

Staying in or going out?

Sweet or salty snacks?

Summer or winter?

Heels or sneakers?

🐿️ 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 🐿️

If you could have dinner with one celebrity, who would it be?

If you could travel anywhere right now, where would you go?

What’s something on your bucket list?

What’s your dream car?

If you could be any fictional character for a day, who would you choose?

If you could instantly become an expert in something, what would it be?

What’s a dream you’ve had since childhood?

If you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be?

What’s your ideal way to spend a weekend?

What’s your dream house like?

If you could solve one global issue, what would it be?

What’s one skill you wish you had?

What’s your biggest dream for the future?

If you could open a business, what would it be?

What’s the one place you’ve always wanted to visit?

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

If you had unlimited resources, what project would you start?

If you could be in any movie, which one would it be?

What’s a future goal you’re excited about?

If you had to choose a new hobby to start tomorrow, what would it be?

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi! can I get Carlos Sainz to serve me a pizza with thin crust and Alfredo sauce topped with broccoli, Gouda cheese, turkey sausage and shallots. With orange juice and cranberry juice

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend alfredo sauce sweet sex broccoli "Made just for me huh?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” turkey sausage "Only the best for my girl" shallots "I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you" orange juice morning sex cranberry juice caught in the act dessert no served by Carlos Sainz

Carlos x Leclerc! reader

TW Caught in the act, morning sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

WC 800+

Y/N POV

"Wake up, Hermosa," I feel Carlos whisper against my skin trying to coax me out of my sleep.

"5 more minutes." I whine while turning further into Carlos's chest trying to hide my face from the sunlight coming through the open curtains.

"Amore, it's 9:30 and we need to get to the track soon," Carlos replies back in a hushed tone.

I don't respond to him I just pull him closer while keeping my eyes closed. I feel Carlos lean down and start kissing my neck before nibbling on it softly.

"Carlos," I whine trying to get away from his teasing touch.

"Quit moving, just let me take care of you, amore," Carlos whispers to me allowing my body to listen to his words and relax under his touch.

This has Carlos slowly pulling my shirt up and helping me sit up slightly so he can pull it off my body. As soon as it's off my body I relax back into the mattress this time on my back letting Carlos have free access to my body.

"Oh Carlos," I cry out when I feel his fingers pull my thong to the side and slip his fingers into my soaked folds finding my clit with little issue.

"So soaked already, made just for me huh?" Carlos asks with a smirk as he slips two fingers into my pussy and finding my G-spot. He starts curling his fingers into my pussy and fucking them right against my G-spot making me moan out loudly at the feeling.

"Fuck Carlos," I moan out with a shout when I feel Carlos lean down to my neck and start giving me soft open mouth kisses before I feel his teeth sink into the skin near my collarbone and start sucking a small mark. Once he leaves a little hickey behind he moves his mouth to another part of my chest leaving another hickey. He repeats this process until my chest and collar bones are scattered with several love bites.

"I love marking you up. Let everyone know I own you," Carlos says while staring right at the little hickeys he left.

"Please Carlos, want you to fuck me," I whisper out when Carlos is no longer fingering me but teasing my clit.

"I love when you beg me," Carlos says with a smirk against my lips before pulling me in for a heated makeout session while he pulls off his boxers and almost instantly slips into my soaked pussy.

"Fuck," I cry out at the stretch I'm feeling from Carlos's large cock.

"Feels so good," I moan again when I feel Carlos start thrusting his hips into mine.

"Fuck, I love the way your pretty pussy clenches around me," Carlos says out of breath but still fucking into me at his consistent pace.

"Carlos faster," I cry out when I feel my orgasm start to build. Carlos listen instantly and speeds up his actions throwing me over the edge almost instantly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I cry out in a chant as he keeps fucking me through my orgasm.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Carlos grunts speeding up his thrusts again allowing for overstimulation to take over my body.

"Carlos, too much," I cry out when he keeps speeding up his thrusts making everything quite overwhelming.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Carlos teases but does slow his thrusts down just slightly, allowing me to catch my breath.

"Fuck," Carlos grunts while sending on final thrust deep into my pussy and unleashing a load of his hot white cum deep into my pussy filling me up perfectly.

"Fuck thank you, Carlos," I moan when I feel Carlos rocking his hips riding his high out.

"Only the best for my girl," Carlos says while leaning down to pull me in for a kiss.

"Carlos! Oh my fucking god," We hear shout from the doorway of our hotel room making us whip our head to find Charles standing in the doorway covering his face.

"Charles, get the fuck out," I scream back at him while feeling Carlos laugh above me. I push him slightly away from me which makes me realize he was still buried deep into my pussy making this situation even that much more embarrassing.

"Carlos, you need to leave in the next 10 minutes or you'll be late," Charles says with his hand covering his eyes while leaving out the door he rudely came in through.

"How did he even get a key?" I question Carlos with a raised brow.

"Fred has a key to all of our rooms and I'm assuming he gave it to Charles when none of them to get a hold of either of us," Carlos admits softly making me groan and throw my head back against the pillow.

[atomic-rattz]

IDK IF THIS QUESTION HAS BEEN MADE

Buttt (hehe)

What are the four sillies favs foods/meals, or dessert?!

Ik it’s a a silly question but oh how I wonder what they enjoy to eat >w<

(I need this info for research purposes, I may have to cook something up >:3)

OOOHHH

Razela (Raph) : Crepes! She’s a sweet tooth and always asks Mikey to help him make them.

Maizei (Mikey) : Banana bread! They love baking and this is simple to bake. (4 me atleast! i bake this a tonnn)

Lelo (Leo) : Cheese pizza! Duh. Someone has to eat pizza.

Dawn (Donnie) : Chomporado! Filipino dish. Chocolate, rice, and condensed milk. Donnie would have sensory issues with food and this one is a simple dish and I think it’s great!

[godneuteredmeforbeingtoopowerful]

CW: discussions of child neglect, food policing, abusing autistic children, fatshaming

I’ve always been confused why I have food insecurity trauma behaviors, but my family has always had the privilege of having enough food and money and whatever else. I was reflecting on this with one of my partners this morning, and realized that my parents had a lot of rules around eating that other people… didn’t? So I wanted to share some of them and… idk. I just don’t want to feel alone. Also, understanding that I am (undiagnosed as a child) autistic with sensory issues that sometimes explode into ARFID, is vital to this conversation and adds a whole other layer. Again, CW ahead.

We always had ingredients, not pre-prepared meals. And you couldn’t eat things bc they were an ingredient

Things like cheese you could snack on but you could only have a little. If you’re hungry, eat a fruit or a vegetable (notoriously some of the worst things for textural sensory issues.)

Pre-packaged snacks have a purpose- if we’re leaving the house, or if you want to take one to school. You may have one snack after school, but there’s a specific amount you’re allowed to have, and it cannot be pre-packaged. I was banned from goldfish for a period of years bc I kept ignoring the rule with it. (I was unwittingly self-medicating for POTS, because it was the saltiest thing I was allowed. The diagnosis came years later.)

Sugar was evil. I could have it several times a week, but only as dessert. I had no say in what dessert was or when. If I asked for it, the answer would automatically be no. Breakfast cereal, one of my only safe foods that I could count on, was not allowed to contain more than 8-9 grams of sugar. That ruled out things like fruity pebbles, my favorite cereal. Occasionally this rule would be broken for things like Golden Grahams, because my dad liked them, but not for anything else unless it was a special occasion.

If you miss your time slot during the day, you just don’t get that thing: i.e. snack time is from 3-4pm. If you don’t eat then, you can’t eat until dinner at 6. No food after dinner. No food between 8am and noon. No food between 1 and 3. This schedule was only allowed to deviate if mom deviated from it.

Also, if you don’t like what’s been prepared for a meal, too bad. Eat it or eat nothing.

In a similar vein, if you don’t eat all of your lunch at school, the leftovers are now your snack after school the next day so mom can watch you eat it. It was supposed to teach me to eat all my food at school. Instead I just learned to throw food away.

Foods other kids got a lot, we didn’t really. They were only for car trips or birthdays, so a few times a year. Things like chips, soda, cracker jacks, etc.

Since safe foods were policed so heavily, I learned to eat a shit ton when I could, so I could make it through potentially not eating anything else substantial until the next day, or even several days. This was usually breakfast cereal, which was guaranteed, and snack time food, which was usually something like popcorn or peanut butter celery (which I did like) or pretzels or yogurt. Hated trail mix and granola bars with a passion. This got me consistently criticized for “eating like a pig” or “wasting food” or “eating up money” when I would have 2 bowls of cereal for breakfast, especially in middle school and high school. But if I wasn’t really eating anything else during the day, and I ran out of energy from those 2 bowls by 10am, what else was I supposed to do but take it?

There was also a lot of competition for getting ahold of my safe foods when they were in the house- because I have 3 siblings. So I grew a habit of stealing and hoarding food in my room- even though that was strictly forbidden. I got busted often, but I was fucked otherwise. Or when we had things like pizza for dinner or other safe foods, I’d have several helpings (consequently getting fatshamed) because I wouldn’t know when I’d have a pleasant sensory experience again, or when I’d get to really eat again.

Also, had to clean my plate whenever I complained about dinner. Think I got bungee corded to the chair once. Had to sit at the dinner table past my bedtime a few times because the lasagna or avocado was too much and I’d puke. And then get verbally abused for it. They stopped that with my siblings. They were allowed to have pb&j after eating 3 bites, but only pb&j. What I would have given for that when I was a kid.

Anyway. Any solidarity is unfortunate but appreciated. A bit sobering now that it’s all listed out like that.

[doin-just-fine]

!! System Introductions !!

We are at a spot where we feel comfy enough officially introducing everyone! We'll dive into who everyone is, what they do, and what their experiences are in the system to provide insight to other questioning systems!

Welcome to our system!! We have a collective system name but is based on our host's real name and they aren't comfortable sharing that information yet so here you can refer to us collectively as:

✨ The Super Fine System ✨

We are a median system as of now because that is the best label we have found and we think we formed due to our neurodivergence (we have diagnosed ADHD and undiagnosed autism) making us a neurogenic. There are possible other origins but nothing is clearer than the struggles we've had our whole life that came with our neurodivergence. We don't really understand how the different consciousness identities work so we don't really use them. Let's get into who everyone is and how we work!!

Name: DoinFine (wants to be anon online for now) Sideblog: Here Emoji: 🛸 (flying saucer) Age Slide: 23~19 Pronouns: They/Them Star Sign: Virgo Identity: Queer and Non-binary Time of Origin: Birth I guess lol Role: Front stuck Host Brief Bio: DoinFine enjoys the winter, blue hour, cloudy skies, and their favorite colors are blue and green. They enjoy hot chocolate, garlic bread, and cookies. The animal they identify with (not as) is a crow. They are kind, gentle, and goofy. Information: DoinFine is our front stuck Host, this means amnesia is not the same for us like it is for more diagnosable/traditional systems. Since DoinFine is around all the time we don't usually forget things completely though it can happen. Our amnesia looks and feels like having difficulty in recall of events but with enough description from an outside party we can pull up the memory as well as emotional amnesia where we can recall memories but not the emotions attached. It's almost like we have the memory the color has been stripped from it. DoinFine has also started having some identity issues with who they are with in the system. They are starting to realize that personality traits they thought were theirs were actually someone else's and they are having to relearn who they are as an individual which is harder for them specifically than anyone else in our system due to their role and how our system operates.

Name: cloud Sideblog: here Emoji: ☁️/🌩️ depends on the day (cloud or cloud with lighting) Age Outside: 19~23 Pronouns: He/Him Star Sign: idfk this one is dumb (🛸 I'd say Scorpio or Aries) Identity: i'm a dude and i don't really like anyone Time of Origin: wouldn't you all like to know (🛸 He won't tell us but I know it's early early) Role: protector and gatekeeper Brief Bio: they wrote this for me but here you go - Cloud appreciates the fall, night time, cloudy skies and his favorite color is deep red (only cus they said black doesn't count). He likes monster energy and pizza (i'm not a sweets guy so no dessert). The animal he identifies with (not as) is on the scale from black cat to king cheetah, depends on how he feels. Cloud is direct, nicer than he looks, and unattached. Information: doinfine is our eyes and ears on the inside and out so to them our headspace looks like a couch that has a plug in seat (the front) and spot next to them for anyone to sit down and watch/give in put but with no way of controlling. everyone uses the couch but i don't i stand behind doinfine and tap in sometimes. we don't share thoughts , our minds are our own unless you sit in the chair or in my case stand behind. as far as anyones aware "touch" can link us a little bit but doinfine can never access anyones entire mind. so information retrieval is limited on and i'm not handing it to them freely so this might not be as clear as doinfine would like. i was the one who broke through first to doinfine. what happened was we lost access to our ADHD medication. we have been on ADHD medication since we were 8 with no breaks (which we think may have to do with our origin) so suddenly we were off it for like a week and a half. thats the longest we've gone with zero meds in 15 years. the no meds dropped some barriers and doinfine started thinking about system things again. systemhood has been an interest of theirs since they were 18 and they were starting to wonder why they found it so interesting and personal. i'm a gatekeeper and they we're piecing stuff together so i had to push back and that actually made it more obvious what we were. and now here we are.

Name: Summer Sideblog: Here Emoji: 🌾 (Grass) Age: 24 Pronouns: She/Her/they Star Sign: Libra Identity: Fem Lesbian Time of Origin: I believe around middle school/high school Role: Caretaker Brief Bio: Summer enjoys the spring (silly I know), golden hour, partially cloudy skies, and her favourite colour is golden yellow or green. She likes fruity teas, creamy soups, and pastries (bonus if they have chocolate in them). The animal she identifies with (not as) is an old bear basking in the sun or a deer. Summer is quiet, gentle, and easily overwhelmed. A bit shy but absolutely wonderful when you get to know her and she opens up. Information: Summer was the reason we started thinking about the possibility of being a system before the whole medication debacle. We were at home and we got the weirdest sensation when we took a passing glance at a mirror. We expected to see ourselves with long straight hair tied back and when we didn't see that it felt very uncomfortable and disturbing to the point of being unable to look at ourselves again for a bit. There was a bit where we went through a denial spiral and wrote off everyone else beyond Cloud as not being real because at the time we only had hard evidence from Cloud. Summer saw that we were in distress and disappeared to make things easier on us. For awhile it was the three of us, DoinFine, Cloud, and Bean. Then we got validation from our therapist about our experience and felt much more comfortable in our situation. Since that, Summer has slowly come back and, with it being summer time, she co-cons quite a bit. Also fun fact about Summer: we think she may be British. She got a lot of inspiration and influence from the things we were watching at the age she developed during. People like Dodie Clark and characters like Clara Oswald were big influences over her style and vibe.

Name: BEAN!!!! Sideblog: Here Emoji: 🧸 (Teddy bear) Age Slide: 8~10 Pronouns: I'm a kid! (🛸 🌾 She doesn't quite understand so we interpret that answer as neutral and use They/She) Star Sign: Taurus Identity: N/A Time of Origin: Early Role: No role Brief Bio: Bean enjoys the summer , mid day sun, blue skies, and their favorite color is all of them. She enjoys bubbly drinks, Annie's brand pasta, and rainbow sherbert ice cream. The animal that Bean identifies with (not as) is a baby chick or a kitten. Bean is energetic, impulsive, and can be shy at first. Information: Bean comes out when the stars align. She is very shy around other people despite wanting to be friends with our partner system's littles. We think that they may have been the "original". They came back out really strong last summer when we were back home and didn't recognize where we were because we had moved 2 years earlier and when I🛸 gave her the tour of the new house we came down stairs and Bean didn't recognize our pets. This told me that she hadn't been around since we were 8 or 9. Around that age we went through some medical trauma and I🛸 think she retreated far far back after that. Usually she just kinda wonders by the front and feels like a passing thought, impulse, or emotion and when I🛸 got to respond she's already gone. I🛸 don't think she understand who she is or who we are and why we're all here, but I🛸 do think living deep inside the head for 15 years has made her really good at navigating it. They have been the only one to front so strongly that I🛸 was bumped out of my seat for a second. I🛸 was still on the couch but I🛸 was shotgun and they were driving. I🛸 remember being impressed and then feeling someone else (☁️) feeling nervous which made me🛸 nervous and us both just gently holding the steering wheel while she drove and then she just got out of the chair and wondered off like it was no big deal.

We realized that we wanna do a separate post for how we operate, interact, and all that stuff because it will already be a massive post on it's own let alone being attached to this post so look out for that soon!

Welp! This is us! Feel free to ask us any questions either as a collective or individuals! We would be happy to answer them!

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Oven repair still isn’t going well. I just can’t seem to get those two damn screws out. Excuse me I ramble/vent/moan/bore about things. (I am waiting a few minutes for some WD-40 to soak into rust, and the farmer sprayed the fields, AGAIN, an hour ago so I can’t go outside. I could do something useful, even with these grungy hands , or I could….)

I’ve had to stop working on the computer and the rest the tech issues. Which had already stopped my working in plumbing. Which had stoped me working on the roof. Which had stopped me working on the kitchen floor and wall at Mom’s house. Which had stopped me from working on the floors at my house. Which had stopped me working on….

Yeah.

So why the stove gets top priority?

Because, damn it, I like to have bread! I have toast every morning. Toast with cheese and fruit. That’s almost every breakfast. I count on having bread! **

And there is the mac and cheese I was going to fix to eat on for a week. And that sweet potato I was going to use last night. And the crust for the grape juice pie I was going to make in a couple weeks to use up juice (cluttering up the fridge) that I made from those fox grapes. And the bagels I’ve been craving**** I was going to make once I used up the bread. And roasting some of the peanuts from the field when they get harvested. And pumpkins and their seeds at Halloween. And turkey at the holidays. And cookies! And…

Okay, I also just like baking. I’m good at baking. Baking is so easy. And yummy.

I dunno. I can survive without an oven and a stove with a burner that goes full volcanic on low, but do I want to?

I have had my life’s pleasures whittled away from me. Like, at first it was just no trips or going out to eat. Fine. But then it was no going to the movies. No going to bookstores. Dropping all my comics and magazines. No buying books, or DVDs, or even little treats. No buying shrimp when the ground chicken is cheaper. No new clothes when I still have my parents’. No getting an internet provider good enough to watch videos all the time. No new sculpey or paints!!!

No family goes without saying.

And it isn’t just normal decay, with poverty (and the neglect that can lead to) speeding things up. Worse, thieves and vandals have repeatedly shown up lately to wreck my, already held together with duct tape, world.

Ok, yes, I have a few things left I get to enjoy. I’ve still got the pool (I almost refilled it after repairing the storm damage, but damn it’s cold) and the woods (when I get time, and the swamp is going dry again…gotta write about that sometime). And there are the animals, of course (but caring for them is soooo expensive). I appreciate my luck to have any of that.

But it all feel so precarious.

Any of them can be taken from me so fast. One tree can take out the pool, and sooner or later one will. Or maybe I will get so I physically can’t clean it any more first. The person that owns a quarter share of the farm and woods can still cause me to lose my woods. As it is, the people that own the next property seem to have it in for the swamp. The pets will all die eventually (old age I hope!) , and I should want no more strays show up. I’ve reached the “Oh no!!! Not another one!” stage every time a new one shows up.

As it is, I never go anywhere. I never do anything fun. I can’t buy things. I have no social life or any way to get one. Everything is broken or breaking around me.

My cooking may not be fancy, and I’m not a fan of the actual process of cooking, but having something yummy to look forward to eating at the end of the day has been something I counted on. During a day working on repairing, cleaning, or cutting brush, knowing I have leftover pizza in the fridge or that I can always make myself oven fries as a treat or that I’ll have brownies for dessert makes it easier to keep shoving through pain.

Ah well, it’s out of my hands. The problem will either be something I can afford to fix or it won’t. I’ll just have to adapt if it turns out to be “won’t”.

But first I have to get those damn screws out!

(Wanders off to go get a hack saw, chisel, hammer, drill, crowbar, and dynamite….’cause those suckers are coming out!!)

** I have no taste for store bought anymore. Mom went from occasionally making bread to making all our bread (when Pop developed stomach issues) thirty years ago. Then when Mom injured her arm*** in the shop, maybe fifteen years ago, I took over. After all those years of home made, when I’ve had folks give me store bought I realized I kinda hate it. So it isn’t just the cost of buying bread from a store (when every penny counts) but I don’t actually like it.

***Long story. Dislocated shoulder. Screw up by hospital folks. Mom with a completely paralyzed arm for six full months. Docs could do nothing but wait and see if it came back, and luckily it did.

**** If you think I hate store bought bread, the bagels are worse. I never liked bagels until I tasted properly made ones at a shop near my brother’s. It was a revelation. Too bad the shop is over 100miles away! There are NO bagels but grocery store plastic bag ones in my damn county. So it’s homemade or nothin’.