#don't look at the wine list or you're both grounded

[jedi-valjean]

Obi-Wan with Anidala & Grimsoka:

As if Obi-Wan wasn't secretly the mastermind who got Grim and Ahsoka together to begin with

[hoe4hotchner]

First time | [A.H] - Kinktober 2024

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Virgin!fem!Reader

CW: 18+, MDNI, almost sickly sweet, piv, nerves, this is very vanilla smut, barely described in more than like 1-2 paragraphs, loads of kissing, they drink wine.

WC: 2.5k

Summary: It's your first time and you're nervous. Hotch wants it to be special and won't do anything you don't approve of.

A/N: I don't know if I'm satisfied with this... so do with that info if you want.

This is a prompt from the the Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober prompt list.

The light from the setting sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft glow around Hotch's apartment. The air was laced with something unspoken, something you weren't quite sure if you were ready for yet desperately yearned to do. Where every shadow whispered secrets of the atmosphere in the room. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you protected in your bubble.

You sat on the edge of his couch, fidgeting with the cuffs of your sleeves. You had sat here many times before, but none of them had made you feel as nervous as you were now. Your heart raced in a rhythm that matched the low, soothing jazz tunes playing softly in the background. You felt it in your veins as an anxious energy coursed through you, feeling both thrilling and overwhelming, clouding your senses in the best yet worst ways possible. Tonight was destined to be significant; it was the night you and Hotch would cross the fine line that you had danced around for a while now. Your first time.

Hotch stood in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine his broad shoulders relaxed compared to how tense they had been at work all day but his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he avoided spilling even a single drop. He was always in control, yet now he felt different — softened by the atmosphere. You snapped back to reality as you heard the soft clink of the glasses as he set them down on the table.

He turned and caught your gaze, the corner of his mouth curling into that reassuring smile you had come to cherish. “You okay?” he asked, his voice was low and comforting, instantly easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

You nodded, though it felt like a lie. “Just a bit… nervous,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The truth was that this moment, while exciting, made your stomach twist and turn. You were worried. What if you didn't meet his expectations? What if you wouldn't be enough?

Hotch stepped closer, his presence felt grounding. He took a seat beside you, his knee brushing against yours, creating a warmth that spread through your body. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “There’s no pressure, okay? We can take things as slow as you need. We can also just stay here. We don't have to do anything if you don't feel ready.”

His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found comfort in the way he looked at you — his eyes were warm, filled with understanding, but you couldn't look past the hint of desire. It was clear he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, though he would never rush you, he was not like other men you had dated. That was the beauty of Aaron Hotchner; he made you feel safe even when you weren't even sure of your own feelings.

“What if I mess it up?” you confessed, your gaze dropping to your hands. “What if I don’t know what to do?”

Hotch’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a firm but gentle grip. “You won’t mess anything up,” he assured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “This is about us — about exploring together. Just be yourself, okay?” He smiled softly at you, his eyes searching yours for a sign, a sign of whether you were truly ready or not.

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you, soothing the jitters swirling within. With him, you felt like you could be vulnerable, shedding the layers of doubt and fear that had accumulated over the years. He was patient and kind, the kind of man who would never judge you for your inexperience.

As the music shifted to a more delicate melody, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. The warmth of his body radiated against you, and it filled the space with a comforting heat. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, it was a reminder that you were in this together.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’m here.”

You took a deep breath, letting your uncertainty seep out of your body. In this moment, surrounded by the familiar scent of him and the promise of what was to come, you felt ready. Ready to explore and embrace the intimacy that had been building between you.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you lifted your head and met his gaze, feeling the flutter in your chest settle. “I’m ready,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your nerves.

Hotch’s eyes sparkled with pride, and he leaned in closer, the air felt thick with anticipation. You were alone in your own little universe, ready to take that leap into the unknown together.

The bedroom door closed softly behind you, the sound almost echoing in the stillness of the apartment. The soft light from the bedside lamps cast gentle shadows on the walls, creating a warm glow that felt inviting. You stood near the foot of the bed, your heart racing a bit as you acclimated to your surroundings. You had been in his bedroom before, but that was not the reason behind your racing heart, the circumstances were.

Hotch, always the steady presence, moved with a calm confidence that eased some of your lingering nerves. He took a moment to survey the room, making sure that everything was perfect — it had to feel just right. He then turned his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with an understanding that made your heart flutter. It was in that look — the depth of his care, the unspoken promise of patience — that you found reassurance in what you were about to do.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper, breaking the silence that hung between you. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. “We can stop at any time, or change directions if you want.”

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his concern. “I know. I’m okay,” you replied, your voice steadier than you expected. “I just… I really want this. I want to give it to you.”

The air shifted, charged with anticipation. Hotch’s lips curved into a small, encouraging smile. “Good,” he said, his tone deepening. “Just remember, we’re in this together. If at any point you feel uncertain, if you want to stop, just say the word.”

You knew you were safe with him, that he would never push you beyond your limits. It was one of the many reasons why you admired him; he understood the importance of both desire and comfort, intertwining them in a way that felt natural and just right.

He stepped even closer, closing the distance between you until his presence enveloped you. “Why don’t we take it slow?” he suggested his voice a soft rumble in his chest that sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s focus on what feels good.”

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of the wine lingering between you. It was intoxicating. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand, your breathing hitched catching in your throat.

Hotch studied your expression carefully, his thumb brushing against your lip in a tender gesture. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

The air in the room thickened, and you felt the weight of the moment settle around you. Your heart raced as you considered his question, the possibilities stretching out before you like an open road. His genuine desire to ensure your comfort made you feel cherished and ready to explore with him.

“I want to kiss you,” you breathed, your heart fluttering at the admission. It felt like a small step, but in the grand scheme of the evening, it was monumental and a step in the right direction.

Hotch’s lips curved into a warm smile, leaning in closer, closing the distance between you. “Then let’s start there,” he said softly, his breath brushing against your lips.

With that, he captured your lips with his, the kiss was soft and tentative at first, you were both savoring the moment, knowing that the feelings you felt now never could be repeated. There was a sweetness to it, a promise that he would take care of you. He pulled you closer, his hands resting on your waist. You melted into him, the warmth of his body igniting something within you.

As you pulled away slightly, breathless, Hotch rested his forehead against yours, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you whispered. “Really good.”

“Good,” he echoed, the tension in the air shifting from nerves to excitement. “Then let’s keep going. Just remember what I said.” He placed his lips back on yours.

Hotch's hands moved to the hem of your shirt, waiting for your approval before gently lifting it over your head, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

The kiss deepened, and time seemed to lose its meaning as you melted into each other. Your fingers moved to the buckle of his belt, carefully opening it, not sure if you were moving too fast or not.

Hotch pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours, a silent question hanging between you. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “I want this,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. The sincerity in your tone matched the pounding of your heart, and with that admission, you felt a sense of liberation wash over you.

Hotch’s expression softened, and a small, proud smile graced his lips. “Okay,” he replied. He leaned back in to kiss you, deepening the connection between you. The kiss felt electric, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that ignited every nerve ending in your body.

You sank onto the bed, and he followed, hovering over you. The way he looked at you made your heart swell — his eyes darkened with desire, yet they remained soft, filled with love and adoration for you. It was a potent combination that only heightened the electricity in the air between you.

Hotch leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “If at any point you want to stop, just say the word. I promise we can take as much time as you need.” His voice was a deep murmur.

“Okay,” you breathed, your pulse racing. You felt a thrill at the thought of surrendering to this moment, to him.

As he kissed down your neck, the warmth of his lips igniting your skin with every kiss, you let out a soft sigh, arching your back into his touch. Hotch’s hands explored your sides, trailing along your curves, sparks of pleasure shooting through you with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours, seeking permission to ignite the next step.

“Please,” you whined, the word escaping your lips almost breathlessly, an invitation laced with longing.

With that, he pressed his body closer, carefully sliding into you. You furrowed your brows at the foreign feeling. Hotch stilled as he was halfway in, waiting for you to adjust to him. He rested his forehead against yours, slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside. You watched the veins in his arms flex with every movement.

“Just breathe,” he murmured, his breath felt hot against your skin. He was attuned to your every reaction, a gentle guide navigating this uncharted territory with you. You felt as if you were floating, swept up in the tides of your emotions, every heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Hotch’s movements were measured, each one deliberate and filled with intent. The way he studied your expressions, responding to your every sigh and shift, made you feel seen in a way that you had never felt before. He was a master of the delicate dance you were dancing, guiding you through the peaks and valleys of pleasure with a sensitivity that left you breathless.

As the warmth of the moment began to settle around you, you lay wrapped in Hotch’s arms, the soft glow of the bedside lamps illuminating the room.

You could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head, a steady and calming presence that made you feel safe. Hotch shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice was laced with genuine concern as he tilted your chin to meet his gaze.

You nodded, a small smile breaking across your lips. “I’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice was barely a whisper, yet it was filled with genuine sincerity. “That was… incredible.” You closed your eyes, exhaling as you relaxed into his arms.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I wanted it to be special for you.”

As you nestled deeper into his embrace, you couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that had brought you to this moment. The playful banter, the stolen glances, the kisses in the copy room, everything that had led to this exact moment with the man you loved.

“I was nervous,” you admitted. The admission felt both freeing and slightly vulnerable, but you knew that honesty had and would always be essential between you. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

Hotch nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I was too. It’s a big step to take.” His voice was filled with reassurance. “I hope you know that you can always talk to me about how you’re feeling.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “I do know that,” you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. “And I really appreciate it.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, wishing you could stay like this forever.

He smiled back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the minutes turned into an hour, you both remained entwined, sharing quiet stories and laughter, your hearts beating in tune with each other.

Eventually, as the night deepened and the stars twinkled outside the window, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes as you nestled closer, feeling his arm tighten around your frame. “I’m really glad we did this,” you murmured your voice was thick with sleepiness.

“Me too,” he replied as your breathing evened out. Hotch pressed another kiss to the top of your head.

He smiled at your sleeping form, knowing that he wanted to stay like this forever. To stay with you forever.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 16

"AUNT KARA!"

Esme throws the front door open and sprints full tilt across the lawn to throw her arms around Kara.

"Hey there," Kara greets.

Pulling her face back to look at Kara with wide eyes, Esme gets straight down to business.

"Tell me *everything*."

----

Kara's exhausted on the couch by the time Esme runs out of questions. She softens the blow of having left Esme so long without updates by letting Esme watch her video recording of Lena's new song. Oh, Esme has already seen the bootlegs of the song spread online, but none of those were taken from backstage.

The hard conversation doesn't come until after dinner, when Esme goes upstairs to finish her homework and leaves Kara alone with Alex and Kelly. They both gaze at her with soft, but expectant eyes.

"I'm fine," Kara tells them.

"No one is saying you're not," Kelly assures her.

Alex is less gentle. "Doesn't mean we can't be worried."

Two days ago, Kara would have taken offense. Today, she recognizes the validity of Alex's concern.

She sighs. "I don't think it was the wrong decision."

"Neither do we," Kelly says. "I don't think choosing happiness ever could be."

"But going half the way across the world at the drop of a hat is bound to be jarring." Alex's voice isn't sharp at all. In fact, she's far more calm than Kara expected her to be.

Kara glances at her suspiciously. "You don't approve."

Alex shrugs. "It doesn't matter what I think. The fact you made the choice tells me it was the right decision in the moment." She lifts her glass of wine to her lips, eyeing Kara over the rim. "But is it sustainable?"

Biting her lip, Kara considers the question. She doesn't regret her choice, and the past few weeks have been a whirlwind of excitement and novelty on all fronts. But what happens when the shine wears off?

"I'm still happy," she says carefully. "And Lena has been amazing. I just... don't know what my role is."

Kelly offers a soft smile. "Growing pains is natural, especially in a situation like this where you've been thrust into an unfamiliar industry and an intense career like Lena's. And learning to navigate the personal stuff is requirement of any relationship. It's just going to be harder with Lena than with anyone else."

"Why?" Kara demands, defensive at the implication she would be daunted. "Because she's famous?"

"Yes, Kara!" Alex leans forward, features lined with concern. She sets her wine down, and scrubs her hands over her face. "I don't-- it's not that she's famous, it's the fact that she can't meet you halfway."

Kelly nods. "Successful partners find the common ground-- a spot where they can meet in the middle. What Alex is trying to say is that Lena can't do that."

"Look at what's happened so far," Alex elaborates, gesturing towards the door. "You uprooted everything and got dropped into her world. She hasn't-- she *can't* do the same for you."

Kara looks into her glass, pensive. Again, Alex isn't wrong. Lena's single foray into her life had been coffee in the park-- in disguise. Meanwhile Kara has been thrust into the deep end of Lena's own life. Her career, her family and friends...

Could Lena ever find the same kind of assimilation into Kara's life? Would she *want* to?

And does Kara care if she doesn't?

"I don't think it would be fair to either of us to end things before even trying."

Before anything else can be said, Esme's door slams open upstairs and teenaged feet pound down the stairs at a breakneck pace, only to screech to a halt at the threshold of the living room.

"Aunt Kara?"

Kara sits up from her slouch, concern leeching over her. "What's wrong?"

"Yeah, you okay sweetie?" Kelly asks.

Esme's features crease in apprehension, her anxious gaze flicking between Kara and her phone.

"Um... there's something you should see."

Kara reaches for Esme's phone when she offers it. She shoots her sister an uncertain glance, then turns her attention to the glowing screen.

She blinks at the list of breaking news results on the search screen, jaw tightening. She clicks on the first. A photo fills the screen-- and Kara's heart plummets.

[deathbecomesthem]

No pressure, but is this prompt something you’d do??♥️

You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

This has been a long time coming. Eddie Munson x gn!reader - +18 ONLY. I don't know what I can tell you about this fic without giving away the plot. 3.2K words.

This is prompt #14 on the Stranger Prompts list that @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing and @allthingsjoeq put together in February. I hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night. 

---

The cabin is exactly what you need. It’s just what the doctor, your psychiatrist,  ordered. A clean break from the city for 3 nights out in the mountains. There’s cell service, but it’s patchy. You found that out on the first night, having to walk all the way to the edge of the property to call in to the office and let them know you’d officially be unavailable for any emergencies while you were out of town. After that first night you find yourself checking that useless brick in your pocket less and less often. 

You didn’t pick the cabin because of its reputation. The reviews are immaculate, and not just from the people that come out here hoping for a close encounter with the resident spirit. Your assumption is, especially now that you’ve spent one night here, that the haunting is a ploy to get more people to rent the property. It doesn’t matter to you if there truly is a ghost sharing the cabin with you, as long as it doesn’t leave the toilet seat up.

Right now, you’re lying in the bedroom at the back of the cabin under a heavy crocheted blanket. It smells like cedar and leaves. You left the window open last night, and the autumn air is carrying the scent of decaying leaves into your room. It’s cold on the tip of your nose, but the rest of your body is held in the comfortable warmth of the big bed. With the window open, you can see the night fading away as the sun begins to make its sleepy journey back to the daytime. You decide to follow its lead and start the day.

Coffee tastes better on the back porch; or maybe you’re able to take the time to actually enjoy it without the distraction of everyday life. Either way, you sit on the old wooden rocking chair that faces out into the woods and hold the hot brew up to your still cold nose. Richly scented steam warms your face. You let your mind wander back to the office for a moment to wonder what this Friday morning looks like without your presence looming over your employees. Like a mini vacation for them, having the boss away. Good for them, it’s the least they deserve for putting up with you every day.

The last dregs in the oversized coffee mug are as cold as the air out behind the cabin, and you decide it’s time to relocate. Throw on some warmer clothes and spend some time exploring the property. Last night you were delighted to stumble upon a barn that held a goat. You made friends with the beast for a while, stroking its rough fur and looking into its rectangular eyes. You think you might go see him again today, bring him one of the apples you hauled in with you. You’ll need to make the 20-minute trek to the small grocer in town to get more than just the cheese, fruit, wine, and coffee you brought in with you. 

You’re thinking about making a nice pasta for dinner, assuming there’s anything at the tiny shop that could be ground together to make a pesto, so you don’t notice that anything has changed right away. You walk past the pair of boots sitting on the rug at the entrance of the cabin. You walk into the kitchen, not realizing the overhead light is turned on even though you never flipped the switch this morning. You set your coffee mug on the counter next to the jar of crushed tomatoes that wasn’t there half an hour ago. Your brain doesn’t even register the quiet sound of running water coming from the bathroom just down the hall. You’re too busy mapping the path you’ll take up the winding mountain road. You’re already planning the conversation you’ll have with the local that stands behind the counter of the store. Your fingers are practicing the movements of chopping basil and crushing pine nuts (or possibly cashews or walnuts depending on the inventory of the store). 

Your lips move in preparatory conversation, “hi there” - “lovely weather” - “just in town for a couple of days up in one of the cabins on Bear Ridge” - “do you have any olive oil?” when a new sound, louder and harder than the tap, stops you in your tracks. A door closed. Not a car door outside, but a door in this cabin. A door just down the hallway from where you’re standing. That sound pulls you right back into the present, which allows your mind to finally see all the things that it missed. 

Someone else is in this cabin.

—

Eddie booked the cabin, as he does every year, before the travel season really starts up. It’s necessary, his journey into the forested mountain. It’s different now than it was that first time, more about finding something that’s been lost than holding on to something. He is pulled to that place, the cedar of its walls hold the memories he lets himself forget the rest of the year. 

It’s a pretty ride on roads that devolve from asphalt to gravel to dirt the closer he gets to his destination. Dust flies up from his truck tires and into his open windows. He wonders when the last time was these roads saw rain. Too long, from the look of the drooping pines that line the path he’s traveling on. That’s fine, it suits his mood to see nature thirst. He’s thirsty too, his own spirit is bent and dying. He can only hope his time spent alone out here will keep him going for a while longer. 

He’s tired, though, and the sight of the cabin creeping up on him makes him feel like he’s being held. It’s what he needs, even if it’s not what he wants, to be called back to the memories. The mid-morning sun sits between the trees and the wooden structure. It welcomes him to the only home he knows how to return to. Eddie throws the truck into park just as he reaches the set of stairs that lead up to the wrap around porch. He sits in the cab for a minute, looking at the front door. He sighs, exhaling out the heaviness of life into the cab of his truck, and leaves it there.

He kicks off his boots and swings his bag off his shoulder just as he steps inside. It smells like cedar and coffee. Familiar scents that make the fine hair on his arms prickle. He begins his routine, putting away the food he brought with him - eggplant, pasta sauce, a block of parmesan and fresh mozzarella, eggs, breadcrumbs, tabasco, whole wheat bread, onion, pepper, garlic, crushed tomatoes, and Irish butter. Staples. These are the things he always brings with him. He makes his way down the hallway to the bedroom at the far end. It’s not the one he stayed in that first time, though he pauses outside of the door of that room to look into it. Dust particles hang in the air, and he’s not surprised to see the sheer curtain move in the breeze of the open window. He smiles to himself and moves down to the blue room where he’ll keep his things for the next three days.

—

“Hello?’ your jump at the sound of your own voice, and scold yourself internally. You clear your throat, “is someone here?”

You think maybe the owner of the cabin has maybe come by for some reason, the thought that someone would come all the out here to harm you in some way is too ludicrous to entertain. Of course, maybe it’s the ghost. Would a ghost wear black boots and buy Newman’s Own marinara? Unlikely. You take a few tentative steps down the hallway, listening hard for any sound that might clue you into who might be lurking in the shadows.

“Uh, hello?” a man’s voice calls back to you from one of the bedrooms. It sounds as unsure as your own. “Who’s there?”

He steps out of the room at the end of the hall across from your own. He’s tall, with a mound of gray curls at the top of his head. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. There’s a scar on his cheek that travels down his neck. This is the man your mother warned you about, the kind that kids in dark alleys with a knife. There should be alarm bells ringing in your head, but the lines at the corners of his eyes are soft. 

“Yeah, hello. Can I help you with something?” You ask the man at the end of the hall. You watch his facial expression. His brows pinch in confusion, you think, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know, Sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting any visitors on my secluded vacation. Not sure what you can help me with.” He’s walking towards you while he speaks. A kind of saunter, possibly to hide some sort of pain. 

“Well, this is my secluded vacation, and I also wasn’t expecting any visitors. Are you telling me you booked this place?” 

“I’m telling you I’ve booked this place for the same three days every year for the past 20 years. So, yeah. I booked this place. Are you telling me you booked this place?” He stops when he’s within arm’s length of you, close enough to smell the sweat and aftershave on his skin. Up close, you can see that he’s maybe even a little older than you initially thought. 60 at least.

“Well, shit,” you sigh. You tell him your name and extend your hand, “this is some bullshit, maybe I should try to get a hold of the property owner to see what he can do-” you trail off, remembering your lack of cell service, “-which would be a great idea if my cell phone worked out here.”

You look at the man in front of you for some kind of suggestion, anything. You should want him to say, oh no, what a stupid thing to have happened. I’ll go get my shit and get out of here, but you don’t. It’s something in his eyes that makes you hope he’ll choose to stay, even though the idea opposes all reason. 

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t bring a cell phone with me out here. Sorry about that. How about we both stay -” he holds up a hand, as if to hold back the rejection you have no intention of offering, “- I’m a quiet guy. I’ll keep to myself. I bet we can get the guy that owns this place to refund us both when we get to a working phone.”

“Well, look at you. I only just met you, and you’re speaking my language.” You give him a big smile, “I’m always looking for a good deal.”

—

The old man, you can’t help but think of him as that, is named Eddie. Edward Francis Munson. He’s from Hawkins, Indiana, but he’s been living in Boston for a long time. Eddie is happy to keep the promise he made, to keep to himself and move around the cabin like a ghost, but not you. You keep finding yourself next to him. Sitting across from him in the small living room, looking over the top of your well-worn copy of The Poisonwood Bible and hoping to catch his eye. Your feet take you into the kitchen while he’s bent over the stove top, asking him what he’s working on. While he’s on the porch, you’re sitting on the stairs to watch the tree line and see what he sees. 

“Do you have any kids?” The question, like all of your questions thus far, escapes your lips before you can consider that it may be a rude one.

“No kids, no. There was a time…” you crane your neck to look back at him from your spot on the wooden stairs that lead to the yard from the back porch, “yeah, no kids.”

A pitfall you didn’t see, that’s what that question is. Silence erupts in the space between you, loud enough to make you feel like you’re drowning. You can hear the peepers song through the open window, and are thankful for it. You’re ready to apologize, or crack a joke. You don’t do well when conversation ceases, it’s always been that way. You open your mouth and Eddie waves his hand. He waves away the tension and turns his lips up in a half smile. You can imagine it on the unwrinkled features of his youthful face.

“Well, no kids. Alright. What about a dog?” 

Eddie’s laugh fills you with warmth. The question caught him off guard, and tickled him in that way that happens when you’re all bunched up over something sad. The sound of his laughter feels like home. Like a place you used to know. You can feel a smile on your own lips, you’ve caught onto his joy and made it your own.

“No, no dog. It wouldn’t be fair,” he’s wiping the moisture of the corner of his eyes, “I’m not home much. I do have a cat. Scout. He’s more like the neighbor’s cat at this point.”

Every answer he offers sits on the edge of a profound sadness. You can see now that this man is haunted. You begin to wonder if your intrusion on his alone time is wrong. Maybe you should leave him with his ghosts. Or not, you think he might end up following them off into the darkness. 

“Well, cats are good. I’m glad you have one. I’m more of a dog person myself, I love that unconditional love and devotion. I accept nothing less from canines. And men.” You’re back to facing the tree line, and don’t see Eddie’s reaction to that. The way his smile fades even more, and the tear of laughter at the corner of his eye breaches his lash line and overflows with the added weight of his sadness. 

—

Eddie gets to work on dinner while you’re perched on a high back stool at the counter that separates the cooking area from the main living room. He’s humming something familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on what it is. The sound is too lovely for you to stop it and ask him what it is. 

Eddie’s movements in the kitchen are reminiscent of a dance. You can almost imagine he once had a partner that knew how to do the moves alongside him. He’s dicing onions and peppers and you’re transfixed by the movement of the blade. You take a drink of wine and find yourself on your feet and moving around the counter without even having decided to do it. You open the fridge and get to work.

You find yourself humming along Eddie’s song until you’re singing the words quietly under your breath as you whisk eggs in a shallow bowl. Eggplant parmigiana. That’s your favorite meal, and you’re pleased to see that Eddie knows how to make sauce that doesn’t come from a jar. He even brought Cento tomatoes. A kindred spirit.

The dance continues through dredging and frying. Through slicing thick pieces of bread and mincing garlic. No words spoken, apart from the lyrics of that song you can’t quite recall, yet you somehow know all the words. Just like the dance you never learned the steps to, and yet the movements feel like second nature. You know this, you think to yourself, not fully understanding what that means.

And when the pasta is drained and the garlic bread is toasty, Eddie pours you another glass of wine while you grab plates from the cabinet to the right of the sink. You think nothing of it when you wrap your arm around his waist and hold it there while you pull open the silverware drawer, and he doesn’t remark on it. You’re just moving around him as if you’ve done it a million times, a simple dance of dinner time with this man.

“Sit, I’ll bring over the dishes,” Eddie says to you, rooster potholders adorning his hands. So you sit, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. You look down at your foot, expecting to see your kitten, Scout, rubbing against your leg. His cat's way of begging for a scrap of something. Where is that little beast, you wonder, and the smile you’ve been wearing starts to slip along with your calm.

“That song is driving me crazy,” you say, hoping your voice sounds steadier than it feels. “I don’t know how I know all the words.”

Eddie sets the pan of still bubbling eggplant onto the center of the table. He sighs and looks into your eyes. Left to right, he’s not looking at you as much as searching you. You can see the younger man when you look into his eyes like this, and suddenly you know him. 

“Why do you think that is?” Eddie asks you, still looking into your eyes. 

“Because you wrote it for me,” you answer him. 

He sighs, a sound of relief and acceptance, and dishes out the meal he made for you. Your favorite meal. It’s wonderful to be like this with him, it feels like you’ve been gone for an eternity. You’re so thankful for his presence, that he came here to find you.

“Eddie, I missed you,” you tell him. 

“I missed you too. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere ever again,” he tells you, reaching across the table to hold your hand. You eat that way, hand in hand, running your fingers over the tattoo on his knuckles. Your initials, of course, faded with the passing of the years.

—

You didn’t bother to clean up after dinner. Eddie was too tired. You helped him down the hallway. You helped him undress and get under the covers. You climbed into the bed with him and found that spot at his side - your spot - and curled into him. 

You hum your song to him until he’s finally asleep, and follow him into a dream. You’re at the beach with him, it’s the first truly hot summer day of 1995. It smells like coconut sunscreen and salt water. The sand under your feet is hot, and the sun is beating down on your skin. You can see Eddie standing at the water’s edge, his hand outstretched in an invitation. 

You wake, not to the sound of bird call, but the sound of an engine revving outside the cabin. You leave the bed and the cold body resting beneath the covers. It’s not important, not when you know exactly what you’ll find when you open the front door. 

Eddie’s sitting on the back of his old Goldwing, looking like she was just driven off the lot. His black hair is tied loosely at the nape of his neck in a ponytail, and his hand is out to you again. You run down the steps and climb onto the back of the bike, eagerly wrapping your arms around his center. You breathe in the smell of his leather.

“Eddie, where are we going?” You ask him.

“Sweetheart, I have no idea, but we’re going together this time.”

[idyllcy]

crooked windows

word count: 1.5k || pt2 of sheer curtains

summary: What is there to miss if you're right there with him?

"How rare for us to be able to get a day off like this." Tim rolls down the windows to the car, sighing as you enjoy the light breeze.

"Well, we're in Spain for a reason. Might as well enjoy it." You hand him the water as you glance at the coast. "Don't forget to put sunscreen on. Don't want you burning and peeling skin."

"You're being dramatic." He huffs. "We're going to the beach house for a business meeting. It's not even a day off."

"The rest of the day is." You close your eyes to feel the wind. "We can stay back and just left the chauffeur know."

"I suppose. Did you bring beach clothes or something?"

"Maybe." You grin. "I brought you a change too. We can have dinner at the club."

"I thought you hated those."

"Not when you're dressed like a man in finance. Too bad you're not 6'5."

"Hey." Tim grumbles. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not." You huff. "You'd think all that stretching and gymnastics would go to your height, but nooo. Where did all that shit you were eating even go?"

"The stress of the two of us ignoring our soulmate bond." He grumbles. "I don't miss that awful feeling of the two of us being apart."

"Hey, you started it."

"Yeah, I did." He huffs. "Only cuz you suck, though."

You fake a look of offense, turning the other way as the rest of the ride is in silence. 

"I was kidding." Tim mumbles.

"You're the one who refused to stick around. Maybe you're just born to be a serial cheater."

"Hey—"

You roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks as Tim sighs.

"I'm sorry."

"Save it for after the business meeting."

You don't know how many people have accused you of getting the position because you were Tim's soulmate, but to be fair, it's not like you knew which son you were applying to be the secretary of. HR was in charge of all of that. You're pretty sure Tim didn't know it was you until Bruce had caught your name on a list of new recruits and told Tim to set things straight with you before he fucked up again. You're glad at least someone had a voice of reason in this entire conversation. 

You still fight though, you know, as normal people do. You wouldn't be childhood friends if the two of you didn't wrestle and tussle a little. It's only comedic when it's in the privacy of your shared vehicle. To the public, Tim has to keep up the appearance of a soulmate who nearly fucked himself over when he decided to ignore your warning. Something something soulmate propaganda something something no flaws in a system full of them, something something—

"We're here." The chauffeur nods. "Shall I come after the meeting?"

"I'll let you know in advance. We'll most likely stay a little while after." You hum. "And if I book the hotel we're meeting at, then you can come grab us tomorrow."

"Noted. Work safe."

"Drive safe." You step out of the car as Tim offers you a hand, and you smile.

You're never beating the publicity allegations.

"There's nothing after the meeting, right?"

"Mhm." You nod. "What's up?"

"Beach day sounds so good. If I remember right, this hotel has a good massage parlor too." Tim sighs. "Wine tonight?"

"Yeah, sure sounds like a night for me to be sipping on wine and not beer at a random parlor."

"Go figure. It is Spain."

"Can I get a beer in Germany next time?"

"Are you going to blow my card again?"

"Yeah." You lick your lips, grinning. "I'm blowing your card."

"That Birkin from me wasn't enough, huh?"

"No. It'd be better to give me mansions next time." You wave at the men at the table as you both step in. "Gentlemen."

"Why if it isn't the Waynes' golden secretary."

"Honored to hold that title." You have everyone settle down and Tim starts on the meeting. You've grown used to it. The men like pushing him because he's almost always younger than them, and if someone was the same age as him, then it was truly a fifty-fifty on whether or not they could hold their ground. Some like sucking up to the older men. Not everyone gets where they are because they deserve it. Most people are born lucky, you know, like Tim. You're not born lucky, but you suppose luck had a large part to play in your life. 

You let Tim take care of most of the meeting, your mind wandering off when you know he won't need you anymore, wondering if you'd get to actually relax at the beach. You'd probably end up talking to Tim the whole time and working out your problems again. Healthy communication but unhealthy habits. Maybe the two of you were just born to butt heads at all times. You still wonder if the two of you were really romantic soulmates or if the two of you just could not stay away from a toxic relationship. You know, the classic "but daddy, I love him!" moment for the both of you. God, the two of you need therapy.

"That concludes our meeting." Tim raises a brow at the men. "Any questions?"

The look he gives them indicates that he wants no questions at all. 

The men catch on enough, shaking their heads as they file out one by one.

"Please tell me we're staying here for the night."

"Just booked the suite. You wanna suntan?"

"And get burnt?"

"Bottomless brunch is too late, huh?"

"Bottomless brunch tomorrow, please. I have no meetings unless you scheduled one." Tim begs. "God knows I need it."

"Nope. We just have a dinner in the evening."

"Bottomless brunch tomorrow." 

"Yeah, yeah." You hum. "Ready to check in? Our luggage will arrive later."

"You really are abusing the privileges of being a rich man now, huh?" Tim clicks his tongue. "Did you bring my trunks?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, maybe 'cuz you hate me?"

"Tim, I don't hate you."

"I know." He mumbles. "I wonder if we could go back to how we were before sometimes."

"We're not children anymore." You follow him out, stepping into the lobby to check in, eyes focused on the way you get deja vu from the way he turns around. "Have we done this before?"

"When we were kids, once." He holds his hand out for the bag in your hand, and you comply. "We booked a hotel room overnight once because our parents were both gone. I booked the hotel and told the receptionist that we just needed a room for a night since we were all wet from the rain."

"Right, since taxis in Gotham never mean anything good." You mumble. "Do you miss it?"

"No. You're right here. Why would I?"

Tim's honesty is enough to surprise you, blinking at him like a deer in headlights as he continues walking. You wonder somedays what he got from keeping you around. You argued over everything because of the differences in the ways you've both been raised, and even if he had a visible soft spot for you in the vulnerable mornings spent tangled in each other's limbs, you wondered just why he kept you around.

"Tim."

You stop right where you are, staring at Tim as he raises a brow at you from the elevator.

"What?"

"Do you love me? Or are you doing this out of an obligation of being my soulmate?"

"We've been over this. Neither of us can love properly." He holds the elevator door open with one hand, pulling you in with a roll of his eyes. "I love you to the best that I can, though you deserve someone who can love better. You're my soulmate, and even in a world where you aren't, I'll still find you. There. Better?"

You roll your eyes.

"Timothy Jackson Drake, you suck ass at comforting people."

"Thanks, my parents were barely around."

"Did my mom not raise you better?"

"She raised both of us, and look where that got us."

You punch him, rolling your eyes as he cracks a grin.

"My mom has nothing to do with your shitty attachment issues. I came out just fine."

"We'll get through it." Tim hums. "Together."

"Awfully bold words coming from a guy who's been dating me for years and known me for even more yet refuses to pop a ring."

"A ring won't fix our arguing."

"This is arguing?"

Truly, it's not, which is exactly why the weight of the ring in Tim's back pocket feels so much heavier than it actually is. 

Not that he'd tell you. 

He'd just show you.

[mistydeyes]

HIIII CONGRATS ON 1k!!!!!!!!! “crystal glasses” w kyle maybe?? ur angst prompts r so good as an angst lover it’s so difficult to choose🫶🫶 THANKS💕💕!!

thank you so much anon! and ahh I love that everyone enjoys these prompts the angst ones are just TOO good

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompt: crystal glasses - a fight ends with shattered wine glasses and someone is left to pick up the pieces

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x fem!reader

warnings: SWEARING, violence, angst, kyle highkey being a dick when you call out his savior complex

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Fights with Kyle were rare. In fact, they seldom happened as you both would logically worked through the argument and find the root of the issue. However, that all went out the window when you both had been drinking. Something about alcohol fueled your anger and all the repressed feelings came to the surface. What had started as a nice night of drinks with friends, had ended with you both arguing and slamming the flat door as Kyle angrily went on about someone who had hit on you. He did this every time, you grew embarrassed at the amount of screaming matches he had gotten into with other patrons. You poured a glass of wine as he continued his fruitless tangent.

"Why the fuck would you entertain them? They were clearly trying to shag you," he yelled as you choked down the bitter red liquid. You looked at him angrily as he turned the argument to you. "Oh so now it's my fault?" you challenged back, "it's my fucking fault for just talking to someone and having them get the wrong idea." Normally, Kyle would relent and apologize for his accusatory behavior but he was too forgone with his opinion. "Then why did you just look at me blankly then when I said I was your boyfriend?" he continued and now held the wine bottle to his angered face. "God, Kyle," you said bitterly, "way to go fucking blaming me for some asshole." You laughed cynically as he just stared and breathed heavily. "You always make it a fucking issue when you can't come in and be the hero," you mumbled and the air grew silent.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he countered and you swallowed as this had opened up another hidden sentiment you held. His words sounded slurred as the amount of liquor from the night began to hit you both. You looked at him through a harsh gaze before you replied. "You fucking heard me," you started and took a step back to establish some distance, "You always get so riled up when I'm not bowing to your feet and thanking my savior." He was about to speak up before you stopped him. "Don't even try to argue with me, you always find a way to make me feel bad about shit like this!" You secretly hated going out with Kyle as no matter what the context, he always found a way to flaunt your relationship and his military status. "God you know I thought I actually was helping but maybe you want to go home with one of those pricks," he replied and what he continued next made your blood boil, "maybe I'll just let them take my whore of a partner."

At the utterance of the term, you stood there in shock. "What did you just say to me?" you practically screamed at him and he had a sick smile on his face. "Just saying what I see, a fucking whore," he replied and that was the final straw. You looked down at the half drank a bottle of wine before angrily throwing the liquor in his face and the glass on the ground nearby. He jumped back slightly and held his jaw as he felt the wine soak his chest. A string of swears followed as you grabbed your things in haste and ignored his shouts. Grabbing your phone, you blocked out his continuing conversation and attempt to rationalize his opinion. "Just stop fucking talking," you screamed back and stepped around the shattered wine glass. You hastily grabbed your coat as he stood with clenched fists at the kitchen counter. "Oh so what you're gonna call me a whore and then fucking hit me?" you asked sarcastically and he held his hands to his side. "Where are you going?" he said more quietly than before and you started to see maybe a semblance of sobriety from him. "I'm going to fucking let someone take your whore of a partner," you replied and flipped him off before walking out the door and heading to a friend's house.

[howlingday]

Think you could do some Nora’s Arc quotes based on Bob and Linda Belcher from “Bob’s Burgers”?

Think? Good sir, I KNOW I can do it!

---------------------------------------------------

Nora: I guess I'll just have to stick with plan "Don't get hit by a bus".

Jaune: No. You know what, Nora? Whatever we do after you're gone, I just want us to be together. So if you want your ashes spread somewhere crazy, or you want to be dropped into a volcano, then that's what I want, too. I just wanna be with you, even if we're dead.

Nora: Aw, Jaune~. Hey, you know what? Maybe being buried won't be so bad. It'll be like laying around in bed on the weekends before the kids came along.

Jaune: But what about the worms?

Nora: Eh, maybe they'll get you first and then be like, "This place sucks. Let's try another cemetery."

Jaune: Thanks, Nora... I think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baker: Oh, well, my bad! I guess we can't bake enough in one day for your wife's fat hands! There's only so much dough in the world!

Jaune: ...What did you say?

Magnum: Ohoho! You should NOT have said that, you poor, dumb baker! Here comes the thunder!

Jaune: (Grabs loaf) Guess what? (Throws it) No one! (Grabs another loaf) Talks about! (Throws it, Baker tries to catch it) My wife's! (More loaves tossed) Big hands! (Grabs shelf)

Baker: Stop!

Jaune: (Pulls shelf, Loaves fall by the dozen) ON HER BIRTHDAY!

Magnum: (Picks up loaf off the ground, Eats) Except us!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: Nora, I... I learned a lot of new stuff about you today. Things I didn't know after being married this long. Things I... gotta give respect to. Sort of. And I'm glad to say that I'm still finding little surprises.

Jaune: Also, I wrote that down on your birthday card. See?

Nora: Oh yeah! Aw...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nora: Aw, poor Jauney!

Jaune: Hold me!

Nora: Oh, come he- OW! OW! Watch it with the sword!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nora: Aw, look at you with a broom in your hand. You look like a pretty witch~!

Jaune: Thanks, that's what I was going for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune/Nora: (Simultaneously, To the kids) Your mom/Your dad will take you. (Turn)

Jaune: I don't want to take them.

Nora: Well, neither do I!

Jaune: ...Thumb war on four?

Nora: Deal.

Jaune/Nora: One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war. (Struggle)

Jaune: Oh!

Nora: Yes! Good on me for marrying a man with dainty thumbs!

Jaune: They're so beautiful, but so useless...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nora: Hm... You think I could squeeze half a glass of wine out of this rag?

Jaune: I mean, I wouldn't.

Nora: No, no, of course not. But let me just suck on the rag once. (Chup!) AGH! (Coughs) Ugh, that rag is disgusting!

Jaune: (Chuckles) I love you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: (In the rain) Yes! We win! ...Sort of.

Nora: Oh, Jaune! (Kisses him) Here, now lift me up like in that one romantic movie we saw! (Jumps)

Jaune: (Catches her) Ngh... Nope. Nope. Too heavy. Too heavy. ...Sorry.

Nora: Eh, it was worth a shot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ren: Wait, are you both really going to round off ten thing you love about each other?

Nora: What? No! Ten is way too much!

Jaune: But maybe just a few more? Like, how I love the way you say "vroom, vroom" when you turn on the coffee maker.

Yang: Ha! I got that on my list for Ren, too!

Nora: I love how your beard kind of flutters when you sneeze.

Thrum: I guess Mom and Dad are doing their Beloved's Day speeches. Out loud. And in front of everyone.

Magnum: Romantic sons of bitches. Tai Ren?

Tai Ren: Baby making music?

Magnum: You know it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: You should have married Ren. You would have been better off with him, instead of being stuck here with me in this... this place.

Nora: Oh, Jaune, please!

Jaune: It's true! I can't even satisfy you with my kissing! (Looks over) I'm sorry you had to hear that, kids.

Thrum: It's okay.

Magnum: Thanks for sharing, Dad.

Nora: Jaune, listen to me. I would rather be married to a suspected war criminal who can't kiss for jack and still have dreams high as the sky, like you, than a thin-lipped quiet guy who never had a dream to begin with.

Jaune: You would?

Nora: No doubt about it! You're a hero to both of your kids, and to me. Now come inside and whip us up some pancakes~!

Jaune: Aw, Nora! I'm comin in! (Go to door)

Magnum: (Click!)

Thrum: (Giggles)

Jaune: Open the door.

Magnum: (Lifts hand)

Thrum: (High fives)

Jaune: Okay, very funny. Now open the door.

Magnum: (Walks away)

Thrum: (Follows him)

Jaune: KIDS!

[youwouldntlietopapa]

24- with Primo. Please and thank you.

First, I was hoping for some Primo prompts. I feel like I don't get a lot of chances to write him and I'd like more.

Second, HOW DARE???? I HAVE A HEADACHE NOW FROM CRYING??? WHY??? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME YOU MONSTER??????

Third, I'm not even sorry.

No real warnings on this one except for maybe emotional pain over yet another old man I love. Please refer any complaints to the account above. It's all on them.

Also available on AO3

ahem @the-cardinale just... if you're interested.

_____________________________________________________________

It had always been something when it came to Primo over the years. A few false starts. A few missed opportunities. Always the wrong time, the wrong place. The Ministry, duties, family, Papa, all of it. The stars simply hadn’t aligned. Not like you’d wanted. Not like you’d prayed. And, Satan help you, you had prayed. Each morning and night, before the great altar and alone in your room. Everything you did for the Abbey you offered up as a prayer.

But, instead, you had watched him, year after year. Rising in power, basking in his unholy glory, becoming the man you knew he was meant to be. His radiant beauty and his noble bearing only shining brighter each day. Even as you watched his silken hair of spun gold shift to silver and his taught, perfect skin begin to loosen and droop. Like the finest wine, grown nearly priceless with the passage of time.

If only time had been so kind to us both, you thought, looking into the mirror with a heavy sigh. Pulling your hair back tightly, winding it into a practiced bun at your crown. Trying valiently to put such thoughts out of your mind. The same thoughts you’d been trying to set aside for years… decades.

Fool. It’s too late now. Best to just let him go.

You shake your head and sigh, duty calls and you haven’t risen so high in the ranks to loose your footing now. Just forget it and get on with your day.

You manage it, reasonably well, as you do most every day. Assigning duties to the new Sisters, overseeing others, paperwork, emails, prep for lectures and seminars, making calls about bookings, sceduling meetings. The list is endless. Endless enough to keep you occupied with other things. The way you like it. The way that keeps you sane. Head down, nose to the grindstone.

Right up until you look up and find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse.

You could have sworn you only came out to get a little fresh air, to enjoy the warm early days of fall before the winter chill takes hold. Lost in your own thoughts, a million miles away. While your treacherous feet have betrayed you once more and carried you here, quite against your will. They know the path too well, walked too many times, years ago and all the time in between. Slowly spacing out the visists when it hurt too much to be there. Finding excuses and other places and busy work and anything else that didn’t remind you of the smell of fresh turned earth and the humid heat and sun warmed skin…

“Been a while, Sorella.” His voice catches you off guard. Still low and soft as a summer breeze. The gravel just beneathe is more pronounced than it used to be, but it’s the most beautiful sound in the world as far as you’re concerned.

One hard swallow is hardly enough to clear the decades of desire and regret caught in your throat and threatening to choke you. But it’s all you have before you turn to face him. “… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to interrupt… I should go.”

But his hand grabs your arm and roots you to the spot. You don’t want to look, too afraid of what you’ll see. Anger, hatred… Lucifer preserve me, indifference. Still his hand holds you firmly.

“Please… look at me.”

And how could you say no? How could you ever say no? Even if it hurts. Especially when it hurts. You turn back and his eyes lock on to yours while the world around you crumbles to dust and the once solid ground falls away while you drop into the pit desperately trying to cling on to him just for a moment. Just for one precious, perfect moment where he might actually be yours. The man that he was, that he is, that he will be. Not the nothing it’s been for so long, too long, so painfully, foolishly, hopelessly long.

“I miss you, mia rosa.” His fingers loosen, sliding down your arm to catch your hand. The sensible part of you is desperate to pull away. You know this pain too well. How it will cut the heart out of you again. Again and again. Like every time before. “Please… please… don’t go. For me.”

“Papa, I…”

“No.” He says firmly. Not angry, just final. “No. Not here. Not from you. Non quando ho aspettato così a lungo che tu tornassi di nuovo qui, amore. Non sono quell'uomo, non per te, non posso esserlo. Preferirei morire.”

There’s a desperation in his eyes you don’t know that you’ve ever seen before and his hand holds on to yours like you might drift away.

“You know my name. You know who I am.”

“Primo... please.”

He’s already closer, so close you have to look up at him. So close you can feel his warmth and smell the lingering scents of the garden clinging to his clothes. His warm, gentle hand cups your cheek and he stares at you until you’re sure he can see right into your soul.

“How long are you going to hide from me? If you won’t stay… tell me how long is my punishment? I need to know. Please. So I can, at least, see an end. Tell me and I will wait, without complaint. But don’t just leave me here. I beg you.”

“Primo…” Decades. Decades upon decades. Still he steals the breath from your lungs and the sense from your head. Just being close is enough to drive you to madness. Every wall you’ve built around yourself to keep yourself safe feels as solid and secure as damp tissue. “The punishment isn’t yours. You know that. You know that. How many times have I told you? I know. I understand. It’s all right. I don’t begrudge you one ounce. But it hurts and it will keep on hurting. It’s no one’s fault… but, Satanas… It hurts until I can’t breathe.”

“Amore…”

“Please… it… it’s never forever, Primo. And I can’t do for now. It’s too late for that. Much too late.” It feels like a betrayal. Like an attack he doesn’t deserve. Just to say it out loud. That the tiny spark of hope that refuses to go out isn’t really enough to sustain you after so long.

For half a second you think he might let go, half a second that drags out into eternity where you are terrified he will let go. It’s one thing to say the words, to insist that it’s what’s best. But your stomach lurches dangerously and your throat tightens painfully at the terror that you might be right. That it really is just… done. And when his fingers slip free of yours, it’s all you can do not to scream until you shatter.

Instead it joins the other, cupping your cheeks tenderly. The warmth of his palms seeping deep into your skin and setting that tiny, dying ember back alight. “Not for now, angelo mio.” He says quietly, gently. His work callused thumb brushes a tear from your cheek. “No more for now. I am done with stolen days. With lost time. No more.”

His lips brush against yours, so softly it’s more like a memory.

“No more puppet pretending to be king. No more smiling court jester.” His brow furrows and his eyes glisten with tears barely contained. “Ho dato loro una vita, amore mio. Non ho mai avuto intenzione di dargli anche il tuo. E sono fauci spalancate e insaziabili. Ma non più. Ho finito. Hanno tutto ciò che otterranno da me. Non permetterò loro di avere anche questo.”

Primo’s forehead presses against yours and you can feel him fighting to control his breathing. Shaking from the effort of holding together. “It can’t be too late. Please. Tell me it’s not too late.”

“Look at me, Primo… really look at me. I’m not a girl anymore. Whoever she was was worn down with time and this is all that’s left. You… you deserve better. More. That girl got old, my love. And there are too many pretty young things here who would make you happy. Give you a son.”

“I am looking at you. You think I am so blind?” He says with a hint of a smile, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s not them I want. And I raised three sons already. I don’t need another. What would I do with a baby, amore? I have my children here.” Primo waves to the garden. “They are enough.”

“It’s you I don’t have and you I want. Always you. Only you.”

“Hell’s teeth, you are stubborn as ever.” You huff.

Primo finally smiles, chuckling softly. His arms wrapping you in his warm embrace. “Si, I am. More maybe. You know how old men get.”

Your hand reaches up and cups his cheek as he did yours. Noting all the subtle changes and all the things that are still the same. Drifting along his jaw and around behind his sun baked neck. Letting your fingers run through his hair. Thinner now, more silver than gold, and still like the finest silk. His eyes slide closed and the hum of pleasure that rumbles in his chest still echoes through your soul.

His lips are on yours again. Tentative at first, waiting for you to pull away, and claiming your mouth deeply, desperately, passionately when you don’t. His strong hand cradling the back of your head, holding you steady. You’re vaguely aware of moving and the sound of the greenhouse door. But none of it matters. Nothing else matters outside of his embrace, the taste of his lips, and the familiar press of his body. When you drop into his old chair, the years fall away and you’re curled in his lap once more. Hands buried in his hair. His own hand deftly loosening yours from the bun, letting it spill down your back. Combing his fingers through with a soft moan.

“Amore mio…” He breathes against your lips. His grip on your hair holding you close. “Forgive me. Forgive me, please. Ask of me anything. I will burn the greenhouse. I will tear up the garden. I will give you the world if you ask. Only forgive me.”

“Anything?”

“Si.”

One hand slips from his hair. Tracing the lines of his face, all the victories and defeats, all the loves and heartache, the joys and sorrow mapped out over the face that’s been in every one of your dreams from the first time you laid eyes on him. Staring back into his mismatched eyes that have seen even the darkest coners of your mind and never once flinched away.

“All I want is all I’ve ever wanted.” Your hand finds his and you lace your fingers together. “You.”

A rosy blush blooms across his cheeks and he smiles a little sheepishly, dropping his head. “Sono tuo, dolcezza. Come lo sono sempre stato. Completamente, interamente, irrimediabilmente tuo.”

“I forgive you. I have always forgiven you.” You lift his chin and smile gently.

“Now kiss me, you fool.”

_____________________________________________________________

Sorella = Sister

mia rosa = my rose

Non quando ho aspettato così a lungo che tu tornassi di nuovo qui, amore. Non sono quell'uomo, non per te, non posso esserlo. Preferirei morire. = Not when I've waited so long for you to come back here again, amore. I'm not that man, not for you, I can't be. I'd rather die.

Ho dato loro una vita, amore mio. Non ho mai avuto intenzione di dargli anche il tuo. E sono fauci spalancate e insaziabili. Ma non più. Ho finito. Hanno tutto ciò che otterranno da me. Non permetterò loro di avere anche questo. = I gave them a lifetime, my love. I never intended to give them yours too. And they are gaping and insatiable maw. But not anymore. I finished. They have all they will get from me. I won't let them have this too.

Sono tuo, dolcezza. Come lo sono sempre stato. Completamente, interamente, irrimediabilmente tuo. = I'm yours, sweetness. As I always have been. Completely, entirely, hopelessly yours.

[nicolesainz]

Within The Limits (Ben Chilwell x Jenson Button x OC) Chapter 2

warnings: none so far, you are safe.

author's note: I just realised this story will be bigger than the one I wrote for Mason and Carlos. Don't know why but I have more confidence in my writing now than I had a year ago!

next chapter

"How long?"

"Eh, probably 3 weeks. Almost a month." I look at my knee and sometimes I wish I had one made out of iron.

"I'm so sorry mate. You were doing very well and this is unfortunate. The defence looks weak without you and Reece." Mason says as he takes a sip from his glass of wine.

Even though we may not be teammates anymore or England's regulars, our friendship has been stronger than ever. I sometimes travel to Manchester, or he drives to London. I do miss him as a teammate but if that was the best for his career, I wasn't going to be an intruder in his dreams.

"Says you. Mate, I miss seeing you on the pitch. I am sure though you will come back stronger. I miss playing with you." I say even though I feel like Mason regrets his move.

United are on a losing streak and have been officially knocked out of all European competitions. It's a shame because Mason has showed what he is capable of.

"I guarantee you, early March or before the call up for the Euros, we will be ready and fit and play again together. Nothing will change my mind" he says and I feel my confidence boosted. I can always count on Mason and so can he on me.

"I hope you're right. I so want to play for England again. I missed the World Cup so now it's my chance to revive myself" I empty my glass and lay my head back on the pillow.

"Hey, wanna watch a game? I think Spurs and City are on." Mase suggests but I am in no mood for football. I prefer playing not watching and especially when I am injured.

"What about some F1? Quali was on and I missed it. Plus, remember that we have been invited to the race tomorrow" We had passes for three days but training was ahead and better be safe than sorry.

“Oh yeah. I wanna be aware on who’s on pole and stuff. The grid walk is kinda stressful when they ask you questions about stuff you barely know.” I click on Sky Sports and tune into F1.

We’ve missed the session but the post Quali analysis is on so we will see the list of drivers underneath. And oh, Lando is on pole! Jolly. He’s more close with Mason but a Brit being first amongst 20 isn’t bad, especially at the British Grand Prix.

“Oi Lando! Happy for him. Gonna wish him good luck tomorrow.” Mason exclaims but my eyes remain locked with the woman’s figure on the tv.

She seems fairly young, probably around my age. And a bit familiar too. Her brown locks cover her shoulders perfectly and her expression radiates intelligence but also sweetness. Currently interviewing Lando and his former teammate, Carlos, with such maturity and afterwards congratulating the both of them.

She then faces the other two interviewers that are with her, but mostly the man next to her. She looks so happy to be there, talking about something that she probably loves, given that she works for F1.

“Earth to chilly. Hello?” Mason clicks his fingers in front of my face and I immediately realized that I was lost at admiring her beauty through a screen.

“Sorry. Got distracted” I shake my head and look underneath at the stats.

“You were looking at Chelsea” Mason says with a massive smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Chelsea. The interviewer. She works for both F1 and the Premier League.” Wait, how wasn’t I aware of that?

Probably because you don’t play now idiot. And you’re more on the training ground.

“Is she new in the Prem? My eye never caught her and given how she looks, I would have noticed.” I don’t know why I said that last thing. And I don’t even know her.

“Not really. She was recruited a bit before the World Cup started. She mostly commentates on United and City’s games given that she does live in Manchester.” Mason explains and I’m still trying to spot her inside my mind. How come I’ve never seen her before but Mase has?

“And her name is Chelsea you said? What, is she a fan or something?” I ask and my glance falls back on her. Oh she looks like a true grace.

“I have no idea. Ask her tomorrow.” He blurts out so casually.

“As if I know her. She’ll think I’m a creep.” I say trying to hide my blush.

“Fine coward. We will go together. Or I’ll go by myself if you don’t want to. Good thing she lives close to me.” Mason winks evilly and I punch his shoulder lightly.

She seems so full of knowledge that I wonder why she's not commentating more premier league games.

Probably because she's travelling the world with F1.

"All jokes aside, she is a really nice girl. Always polite, smiling and never judging. I am sure you will like her once you meet her." Mason says as he types on his phone.

"I will take your word for it."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Chels, can I ask a favor?" Lando approaches me in a rush, followed by Carlos who is not paying attention because he is busy talking on the phone.

"Uh, sure. Tell me." Usually Lando isn't the one asking favors. It's mostly George who wants to show off to the guests or Alex who can't keep track with the sessions.

"Two lads from the England squad will be in the paddock tomorrow and one of them hasn't been to a Grand Prix before so could you show them around the paddock?" Suddenly alarms are echoing in my head as I imagine who those may be.

"No problem. May I ask, who are the two guys?"

"Mason and Ben. I'm assuming you know them and especially Mase given you work at Manchester."

Ben? As in Chilwell? Oh the shock my dad with get when I tell him that. Also, I haven't met in him person. Never had the chance to commentate on a Chelsea game. And I briefly remember him at his Leicester days.

"Yeah yeah. I will show them around. You got it."

"Thank you so much. I owe you." He hugs me tightly and a confused Carlos looks at the both of us.

"I'm not gonna steal your boyfriend Sainz. No need to death stare me." I say mocking him.

"You know, one day, some reporter will hear you and then people will start asking us about the wedding date." Carlos says rolling his eyes annoyingly.

"I will see you guys tomorrow. Take care" and I wave both of them goodbye, as I feel my heart skipping a beat when a pair of strong arms are wrapped around my waist.

Jenson is leaving small kisses up my neck as I try to remove myself from his grasp. He knows I have a weakness and he uses it against me.

"Ready to go, love?"

"Mhm" I nod and take his hand into mine.

"What were you and Lando talking about? Does he need tips on how to block Max from stealing the first place at turn 1?"

"He will be fine on that part. No, uh, he wants me to give a tour of the paddock to some of his friends that will be in the Mclaren garage and given that I know one of them very well, he thought I was fit for it."

"What friends? The ones that are with him on that e-sports team he has?" It's funny seeing Jenson so confused and not knowing what Quadrant is and being kinda uptight about me missing from his side.

"No babe. Some football players. Mason Mount and Ben Chilwell. I know Mason very well but it's Ben's first time watching a race from up close so he wants me to guide them. Won't take more than an hour."

"Don't remind me that those football boys will have eyes on my girl while I won't be able to do anything." Jenson's hand grabs my waist firmly and I can sense he is worried about my time in England.

We are not an official pair and yet he is safeguarding me like we have been dating for ages. I guess two years is quite some time to be dating or "seeing" someone, so I understand the possessiveness. Although it does seem weird that he has been acting up since last night.

He is being all touchy and loving with kisses and mind-blowing sex, aftercare and treating me as if I am more fragile than a glass. I can understand that he is worried but if he wants us to become an official couple he can say it. I don't know what's holding him back.

"You could do something about it, if you don't want those ballers gawking around me like eagles." I drop slight hints even though I know deep down that is not what he wants.

But what they say is true,

if you want something very badly, go for it, right?

[kuroecchy]

Oh and the pic in the list are not mine, I just found the pics from pinterest

fair warning the theme i chose for my october thingy(?) is completly randome so I have nothing planned for any of them.

English is not my first language.

DAY 1 - "Beautiful"

They were being ridiculous again. Tony Didn’t really care though, Obie had been warning him to be more mindful about what he does cuz it affects the company image or something.

Why should he care what others think? He had been a failure ever since he was born anyways, Howard had made sure he knew that.

Then there was Rhodey. Tony loves his best friend but sometimes it gets suffocating. The young man knows that his friend is only doing it out of genuine care for him but Rhodey doesn’t understand what he’s been through - what he’s going through.

Tony took another chug at the bottle he brought with him from the bar. His body is cold but he’s too out of it to care.

He continues to walk.

He… he doesn't know where he's going. He just needed to get away from them, from his responsibilities, from the fact that his parents - mother - had died, from the fact that Jarvis had died. He just- needed to get away.

His mind kept on going and he just needed it to just- STOP

He was panting without even realizing it. He was out of breath from the walk in the cold.

He tried to calm his breathing down, he looked around the empty road. There were only street lights that accompanied him, a few parked cars, and the falling snow.

It was then that he realized he was lost. He had left in such a hurry that he didn't bring anything with him other than the bottle of wine he's holding. Hell, he's not even dressed for winter.

The cold is starting to seep into his numb senses. Breathing somehow feels like a chore now.

Maybe- maybe he should sit down and- he inelegantly dropped to the ground.

He clutched his head, it's gonna be hell tomorrow morning.

He didn't know how long he'd been there when he heard the sound of crunching snow against boots.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Argh…" he rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the source of the voice.

He was stunned, it was a pair of the most beautiful aquamarine eyes he has ever seen.

The teen waved a hand in front of the older's eyes. Not that Tony noticed it much, he was too busy gawking at the beautiful eyes.

"I'm guessing, not." The teen spoke at Tony's silence.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol or the fact he was or maybe it was both but he spoke his thoughts out loud, "beautiful."

It was then that the other blushed, or maybe it was the cold. Tony didn't care, he found it cute.

"R-right" the teen stuttered, "you're drunk and you can't stay here with the kind of clothes you're wearing, you'll get hypothermia and I don't want that in my conscience."

He extended his gloved hands and waited a few seconds and after Tony didn't react he spoke, "C'mon we're staying near here right now. You can stay at our place for the night. Then when you're no longer drunk you can find your way home."

He was taken back that the other didn't think he was homeless, he's out in the streets with ruffled clothing and under prepared winter clothing.

He supposed the other saw his confused state. The other simply shrugged.

"Your clothing looks to be of good material and you're holding a bottle of wine based on the smell, I don't think a homeless person would be able to buy those unless you stole them, though I don't think that's the case."

Tony blinked a few moments and the other seemed to be hesitating on saying something before he made up his mind.

"...and your eyes and expression… it's the expression of someone who's tired and just wanna get away from everything…"

And that's it. Tony knew that the teen wouldn't ask what happened and in exchange, he wouldn't ask the other how the teen seems to be so familiar with such an expression.

Silence stood between them. Tony couldn't stand the silence so he broke it with a bit of gallows humor.

"Heh, planin ta be Sherlock Holmes by any chance?" He slurred.

The teen huffed and the heavy atmosphere vanished. He extended his hand again and this time Tony took it.

Tony laughed, "oh c'mon, it was funny okay."

The other rolled his eyes.

"Oh and I'm Stephen by the way,"

Tony grinned, "and you can call me Tony."

They walked on the empty road together. Tony leaning on Stephen as a support. Still smiling as they walked off.

Snow falls around them. A quiet night follows them and a new possibility opens for the two young men.

~ THE END ~

This is my first time writing something like this and I honestly feel a bit disappointed at how it turned out.

I know it could've been much better then this and how it should've been a bit more centered at the theme

[alliluyevas]

hey fun fact, my girlfriends coworker just quit and is going to Utah for a while. this guy smokes, drinks, does drugs, he's a real hippie. he's going for the nature and national parks and stuff. we had to be the ones to tell him he might have a hard time finding coffee, cigarettes, alcohol, etc because it's a predominantly mormon state! he had no idea!

he's just like...going to chill in the national parks? honestly good on him. i will say, my experience might be skewed because i don't use any substances (or drink coffee, I had to go back and add that because coffee is not A Substance unless you're Mormon) but when I went to utah I was with 2 people who do drink both alcohol and coffee and they had no trouble acquiring those in slc or around zion/bryce canyon national parks. slc has a large secular population and there's a lot of tourist traffic around the two parks so they know how to cater to non Mormons.

my friends don't smoke and no one was looking to do drugs so idk about that, and it might be harder to find even alcohol in areas that aren't the far north or far south of the state and are predominantly mormon without a lot of tourist traffic. i imagine you could probably get grocery store ground coffee at a supermarket but coffee shops would be pretty scarce.

that being said omg how did he not know that? I feel like Utah is so polarized in terms of its population/pop culture presence because it's like Outdoorsy Hippie Place but also Mormon Central.

also just musing but--the interesting thing about visiting Utah as someone who doesn't drink alcohol or coffee but isn't Mormon and was traveling with people who do is that establishments feel really polarized--they either don't offer things that don't conform to Mormon consumption standards (like those soda shops, they may have juices or flavored water or something lighter but they don't also offer coffee), or they are very obviously catering to non-Mormons and don't offer a lot of variety for either practicing Mormons or people who just choose not to drink.

Like we went to a restaurant that had a wine list, extensive cocktail menu, big bar right in the center, etc, and I feel like an equivalent restaurant in most of the cities I've been to would have had mocktails offered, something a little more fun and upscale for non-drinkers. This place had Coke, Sprite, or water. Similarly, we stopped at a trendy-looking coffee place that was either independent or a local chain so my friends could get a coffee. They had lots of different types of coffee preparations and a few different tea options and the only thing that a Mormon guest could have gotten was Swiss Miss hot chocolate. (Which is what I got, lol). These places were both in Salt Lake City. We did go to one place near Zion that had beer and wine but also a wider range of options for non-drinkers including this giant prickly pear lemonade that I ordered which was bright purple and unfortunately not very good kjesdfhdas I thought it was too sweet. Utah moment.

It kind of made me feel a bit weird personally...I felt like I was going to that coffee shop and the barista was thinking oh look at this cringelord Mormon ordering the Swiss Miss. but also on a sociological level it's really interesting because it's a real reflection of cultural polarization in utah, like I'm sure there are plenty of mixed friend groups that have some Mormon and some non-Mormon members, but some Mormons I think would prefer not to go to a restaurant that has a bar or to a coffee shop in general. (Appearance of evil, etc). And I think also like...some people who do drink may kind of look down on those who don't especially because of the religious context so you end up with establishments that basically offer the bare minimum in non-alcohol/non-coffee.

[pharawee]

Do you know any thai BL dramas with sad ending?

Oh, dear anon, do I ever. 😭

A (probably incomplete) list of Thai BL without a HEA*

Grey Rainbow (2016) - This BL takes no prisoners. This BL wants to see you suffer. It's so sad. So unfair (it also comes with a SA content warning). But also really good. It's a quiet and short series that comes with time jumps and a friends to lovers/pining theme.

Dear Doctor I'm Coming for Soul (2022) - Coincidentally, this stars the same acting pair (Karn Kasidej & Nut Nutchapon) as the series above. It's a love story between a doctor and a soul reaper - and it's probably easy to see why there won't be a classic HEA. It's very bittersweet, and probably a lot harder to digest for Western audiences.

Something in my Room (2022) - Another supernatural BL, but this time it's a love story between a boy and a ghost. It's bittersweet for same reasons Dear Doctor is. I cried my heart out at the end.

He She It (2020) - This is a tragedy with a cruel twist.

Peach of Time (2021) - This is a Korean-produced BL but it also stars Jimmy Karn and Tommy Sittichok (who both speak Thai in the series). It's a very soft and sad love story between a boy and a ghost. Bring tissues.

The Effect (2019) - This BL (if it even is one) is extremely dark. It's like an anti-BL (and comes with several content warnings for SA, self-harm and bullying). It takes common BL tropes and completely and cruelly demolishes them. I'm not even sure if it's necessarily what you're looking for since it's just so incredibly harsh in every single aspect but you're probably going to stumble upon it anyway. In the strictest sense it probably doesn't count since it mostly deals with the aftermath of an unspeakable act. The ending isn't sad... it just is.

The Blue Hour (2015) - An absolutely mesmerising movie by Anucha Boonyawatana (Not Me) starring Gun Atthaphan and Oab Oabnithi. It starts bleak, and then it gets bleaker from there. There's some horror and lots of violence mixed in for good measure. Personally, I love this movie, but I couldn't objectively tell you how it ends. It's like a fever dream.

Red Wine in the Dark Night (2015) - Thailand's only vampire BL so far, starring a very talented Fluke Natouch. It's bleak, then it's somewhat hopeful, then everything turns from bad to worse. It's got the same surreal quality to it as The Blue Hour.

The Best Story (2021) - A short and grounded BL starring Yin Anan and War Wanarat (Love Mechanics) about a secret/unrequited schoolboy crush.

Childhood (2023) - A beautifully filmed shortfilm about an unrequited crush. This is indie-produced and very recent so I'm adding a link.

The Luminous Solution (2023) - This BL has two pairings and a very surprising twist. What it lacks in execution it makes up with storytelling and foreshadowing. It's about endings and beginnings with some magic thrown in for good measure.

He's Coming To Me (2019) - This BL probably has the softest of sad endings of all the series/movies in this list. It's bittersweet because as ghost love story it's "doomed" from the start.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (2022) - This series is a lot. But completely worth it, even if the ending leaves you like ?? ???

180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us (2022) - This isn't a classic BL (as in: it wasn't intended as one but received and promoted as such). It's all about the interpersonal story it wants to tell and less about the pairing. The ending doesn't really come as a surprise but, oh my, this series is so beautiful.

Chains of Heart (2023) - I forgot my favourite show (maybe because it's my fave so I don't necessarily think of it as sad - plus, the novel actually has a HEA). But yeah, fate and revenge stand in the way of this couple ending up together. 😭

[kaylapocalypse]

Idk if this helps or if you're even looking for suggestions, but I have relatives like this and I tend to buy them experiences.

I've bought concert tickets for my parents to old people bands they like. I've bought restaurant gift certificates, gift certificates to spas.

I've also created variety packs of things. My father in law, a man with more money than god, got a collection of licorices from all over the world, purchased individually. My Sister in law, who offhandedly mentioned she's learning to cook, I got a full spice collection. Each one individually the best rated by cooks (not the most expensive, the one everyone likes!! some were niche overseas versions of cinnamon, others were like Target brand but the best liked)

I've also done christmases that are money christamses. Everyone gets a set amount (25-50$) and one food item that I am confirmed that they like (inexpensive, I'm talking pickles, chocolate, etc)

In the most dire circumstances when I do not AT ALL know what someone likes because we aren't close, I get them socks. Specifically, I get them the coziest softest socks ever. The kind of socks that make anyone alive want to take their shoes off and put on the socks. Most people have feet, most people wear socks. almost everyone alive loves things that are soft. An important part of the sock gift is that it must be packaged like a luxury item (regardless the cost). You may have the urge to switch to a scarf. Do not. Socks are better received than scarves.

For people in warm places where the sock gift won't work, I buy them fruit. Specifically, a variety basket of well wrapped fruit. This is a great gift for multiple people who live together because its like you're giving a gift to the "house". Also, if you do this enough, the gift receivers start expecting it (positive) and looking forward to it for the whole year and actually get disappointed if you get them anything other than fruit. (this is a good food gift because it has to be consumed within a time limit so it doesn't add to "too much food around" houses)

If its someone I have a work relationship with/slightly more professional, instead of giving wine/alcohol, I give them coffee. One bag of very interesting pre-ground beans and a gift card to either starbucks or dunkin donuts depending on how fancy-pants they are. If I know they don't drink Coffee, I change this to Hot-Chocolate.

For older people who are sentimental, I sometimes offer services. Digitize their music library and give it to them on a cheap device. Clean their tools and box them. Organize their photo collection and put it in a singular album. For gifts like this, you need time and to tell them earlier than christmas. They always enjoy you coming over to participate in doing this gift and then on christmas day, they get to show everyone what you did.

For my little sister I bought her a home cleaning. Around the holidays, youngish people (18-27) value this kind of gift immensely and don't tend to get wierd and defensive about it like if you gave this to your mom.

For men you're not close to, they get excited about upgrades and replacements to items they already own. Your dad has a drill, get him an even more souped up drill. Your brother has headphones? get him even more souped up headphones. Men you're not close to also LOVE if you give them research about the thing you got them. "i already have a drill" "oh man, i know, but this drill is Mens Magazine's pick for the year and has [long list of cool attributes.] here is a thing about all it can do!"

and lastly, If I don't want to give an item but I do like them and want to be with them, I will schedule a "catching up" dinner and pay for both of us, treat them to anything they want.

I hate buying Christmas presents. I don't know what my family want or need. We are simply not that close.

[thehighpriestess1]

Are we close enough?

Part 1

Summary : Emotionally stunted reader and Kakashi

Warning : Use of profanity

Pakun looked up with lazy eyes at his boss pacing around the living room. "I should have asked her for dinner!". Kakashi groaned as he stopped and ran his hand through his hair. "Yes". Pakun said before resting his head on his paws. Kakashi sat on the couch and closed his eyes.

Both of you reached the gates of Konoha just as sun was about to set for the day. You kept thinking about the mission and how soft Kakashi's hand felt on your face. You shook your head to shrug off that thought. It was wrong of you to think about your friend this way when Kakashi had barely mentioned anything... He was just concerned for his friend. "Do you have plans for the evening?". You asked him as you left the hokage tower after submitting the report. Kakashi stayed silent for few seconds staring ahead. "Yes". You nodded your head and fixed your gaze to the ground. "Alright then. See you around hatake". You waved and went the opposite direction.

You walked along the aisle going through the list in your hand. The worst part of having long missions was that you had to clear your refrigerator and re stock it again. You sighed as you put the last item in your cart and pushed it towards the checkout. Before you could turn towards the checkout counter your cart crashed against someone. "Shit! I'm sorry!". Your gaze travelled from the foot of the cart to the familiar white hair. Kakashi gave you a closed eye smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "it's alright". You smiled politely at him and began walking next to him. "This is your plan for the evening?". Kakashi asked side eyeing the ice cream tub in your cart. "Ummmm yeah you can say so...".

Both of you walked out of the store and Kakashi insisted on carrying your bags for you. You looked at him walk next to you and realised why so many men and women fawned over him. He was a complete gentleman on top of being an exceptional shinobi. You saw a women wave in his direction and Kakashi returning her greetings with a smile. You maintained the polite smile to hide the unsettling feeling in your stomach. "Did you eat dinner?". Kakashi asked hesitantly.

"Not yet". Kakashi pressed his lips together under the mask to hide his smile. He was a proud smooth talker but everytime he was with you his words and wits betrayed him. He knew this was a good chance to ask you out and he had to be extremely careful.

"This is my place. I can take it from here". You said nervously. Kakashi snapped out of his daze and realised that he took a little too long to form the right words. "Right. Here you go". He said giving you your bags. "I eat dinner".

"Huh?". You stared at him and Kakashi wished for the ground to swallow him. "Good. You should eat dinner. I guess that why you're in such good shape...I mean health! You're in good health! Ha ha stay healthy! See you later". You laughed nervously and went inside.

Kakashi stood there frozen staring at your gate. "You're hopeless boss". Kakashi blinked slowly and looked down at the pug. "I know".

-X-

Kakashi bumped into you again new days later at another shinobi's wedding. "Hi". You turned around to see Kakashi standing in an all Navy blue suit. "Hi! You look good". Kakashi gave you a closed eye smile. He wanted to compliment you but no words could describe how perfect you looked to him in your yellow sundress. "You .. look fine too". You nodded as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you here with someone?". You asked taking a sip from your wine glass.

"No".

"Didn't find a date or the girl refuses?". Kakashi chuckled at your teasing voice. "Didn't find one".

"I don't believe that. The Kakashi Hatake didn't find a date?".

"Why is that hard to believe?".

"You have to be the most clueless person in all of Konoha if you have to ask that question Hatake". Kakashi squinted his eyes at you but then shrugged it off. "What about you?". His heart thumped in his chest waiting for your response.

"I came with Genma". Kakashi's eyes widened and then he frowned looking at Genma standing at a distance. "Everything okay?". You asked following his gaze. "Genma asked you of all the people?". Kakashi raised an eyebrow and your heart dropped to your stomach.

"I know I am not the best looking one of the lot but come on Hatake that's rude". You couldn't meet his eyes anymore and decided to fix your gaze on the ground instead.

Kakashi didn't understand what you meant. He was shocked Genma asked you because Genma was the one who pushed him to talk to you. But then it hit him. "No! Y/n no. I didn't mean that. I meant... I just-".

"It's alright.. I understand Genma has a slightly different type. Sorry if I made it awkward". You smiled trying to diffuse the situation. "No. I should be the one apologising. You are beautiful y/n and any guy would be lucky to be your date". You chuckled at him. "If you really want me to forgive you then you'll have to bear the punishment". You cocked you head to the side and smiled at him. "Anything you want".

"Ask me to dance with you".

"Y/n L/n will you have this dance with me?". Kakashi asked bringing his hand forward. You smiled and took his hand. "Gladly".

You swayed together to the song standing a little closer than most of the couples. You could feel the warmth of his hand deep into your skin and wondered if this was the right thing to do or were you raising your hopes to no avail?

Kakashi had never been this nervous. Like everything he did, he was good at formal dances too but he wasn't good at feelings. He wanted to relish the way you felt in his hands, he wanted to imprint the scent of your perfume in his mind, he wanted to hold you for the rest of his life.

Neither of you spoke a word but your body spoke the language unknown to both of you. When the song reached its end you looked up at Kakashi already looking at you. "Am I forgiven?".

"Yes. Yes you are".

-X-

For a month Kakashi tried to figure out his feelings. He has never felt this before. He never wanted to form permanent bonds because he knew the pain and suffering it eventually brings but then why did he want to spend every second of his day with you? Was it your snide remakes? Your ability to make anyone feel comfortable? Your nervous laugh? Or your eyes? He walked the empty streets of Konoha with his hands in his pocket wondering... "Oi! Hatake!". His head snapped forward when he heard your voice. He turned around and saw you jogging towards him. "What are you doing out so late?". He asked as your stopped to catch your breath. "I could ask you the same thing". You winked at him as your straightened up and fixed your hair behind the hairband. Kakashi sighed and continued walking with you beside him.

"Why do you call me Hatake?".

"I don't know". You said shrugging your shoulders. "I guess... It's because no one else calls you that?". Kakashi looked at you through the corner of his eyes. "You use it as my nickname?".

"I guess you can say that".

"Are we that close?". You gulped down and stopped walking. You stood two steps behind him fidgeting with your fingers thinking that maybe you assumed yourself to be too close than you were. "I .. I guess .. fine I'll stop calling you that". You answered giving your best polite smile trying your best to hide the hurt.

Kakashi mentally cursed himself at the words he chose and his heart dropped seeing the slight hurt in your eyes. "I didn't mean that".

"It's alright. I understand I mean maybe I overstepped some boundary..ha ha...sorry about that. Guess I'll stick to calling you Kakashi. Anyway I gotta get back to my...to my cat! Yeah she must be starving. Bye. See you around... Kakashi". You waved and ran off in the other direction.

Kakashi looked at your retreating figure and facepalmed himself. "FUCK!".

You reached your apartment and ran your hands over your face. "Fuck! Why am so so annoying?!". Your loud groan woke your cat up from his slumber and he purred stretching on the rug. "Now you're mad at me too?"

You were half way through brewing your coffee when you heard a knock on your door. You walked wiping your hand on the sides of your trouser. "Hi". Kakashi said as soon as you opened the door. "Hi". Both of you stood silently for few seconds. "Do you want to come in?". Kakashi nodded and you stepped aside letting him enter first.

"I got breakfast". You looked at the bags in his hand and nodded. "For me?".

"Yes. I ... You like cream bread from the bakery right?".

"I do".

"I do too". Kakashi spoke immediately. "I thought you didn't like sweets". You said as you set two cups on the table and turned away to check on the coffee. "I don't..but..I like you".

You felt blood rush to your cheeks and bit your lip hard to stop yourself from saying something stupid. You didn't know what to do. Should you pretend you didn't hear it? It must have been a mistake right? A slip of tongue?

"Y/n?". You flinched and turned around to see him standing in front of you. "Yeah?". Kakashi was nervous and his brain was fogged up with all the possibilities. But he knew this was not the time to think. "I like you... A lot ..".

You blinked slowly at him. Kakashi Hatake likes you? The Kakashi hatake likes you? Kakashi Hatake your crush likes you? "I .. I don't... Do you...I mean of course you do we are friends right? We .. we wouldn't be friends if you didn't like me right?". You laughed but Kakashi's stern expression didn't falter.

"No. I... I am in love with you". Time stopped for both of you as the words left his mouth. "you don't have to answer now or at all if you don't want to. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because it was driving me insane. I .. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I thought...I thought that I could push it away but I couldn't.. I couldn't stop falling for you and it's fine if you don't-".

"I do. I love you. I just didn't think you would...feel the same". Kakashi's heart kept out of his chest as he heard you say those three words. "I.. didn't think that-". Before you could finish your sentence Kakashi pulled you by your waist and crashed his lips on yours. You tiptoed and wrapped your arms around your neck as you felt his naked lips on yours. Kakashi kissed you like you held the breath he needed to live. You parted with pressed foreheads and panting chest. When you opened your eyes you saw his entire face for the first time ever. "Holy shit you're beautiful". You said as your held his face in your hand. Kakashi chuckled and brought your right arm to his lips and pressed a kiss in each knuckle. "Thank you".

"Can I call you Hatake now? I guess we're close enough for that". You smiled and Kakashi only pulled your closer into him running his hands along you back. "I might call you a Hatake too".

[railroad-migraine]

Hi! I wanted to submit this to you it may be a little self indulgent but you are one of my favorite writers and I need my confort.

So headcanons (or whatever you feel doing) for C3 x Druid!reader, them on a idyllic meadow with a lake, chilling, cuddling and the reader making flower crowns or putting flowers on them while they feel asleep under a tree… you can write whatever comes to your mind for each one really those are just some ideas😊

-🌱🫖

Welcome 🌱🫖 anon 🥺 This was a very soft idea, very self indulgent. I don't normally dish out requests so soon after they've been recieved, but I had to bump it up my queue list

~ Poet

Druid!S/O's Day Out Date

Ashton 💙

You're only there five minutes before Ashton flops down to lay out in the sun, starfished on the ground as he begins to soak up the rays. I've mentioned this before, but some earth genasis react to heat the same way a rock does - in this case, Ashton's skin slowly begins to prickle with warmth the longer they lie there. A living heat stone. This is the best opportunity you'll get to sneak up and curl into their side for a cuddle and a snooze.

Shrugs off their jacket and rolls up their trouser legs and sets their boots and gear to the side. He's holding your hand to keep him you balanced as you both wade barefoot in the shallows of the lake. You find pretty pebbles and common gemstone debris, smoothed glass chips of wine bottles from fey dinner parties hundreds of years ago. He pockets every fragment he comes across, each a little reminder of this place and time spent with you.

Will most definitely push you into the water, practically cackles when you resurface. Your clothes are drenched, soaked to the bone and clinging to your skin, but they will happily kiss you deeply when you pull them in after you. Try not to imagine them picking you up and twirling you around effortlessly - they're a strong boi, he can do it no problem. Eventually, he settles you down carefully, grinning so freely and genuinely, mirroring your own expression.

-

Chetney 💙

He was immediately drawn to the idea of fishing in the nearby lake. Or I should say, Chetney tried one attempt at fishing, and failed miserably to catch anything. He ended up kneeling by the bank with his hands dipping into the water while he watches his elusive ex-prey swim within the crystal clear lake. He's pouting as they flicker by, but secretly likes the sun on the back of his neck and the coolness of the water. It's more bearable a tease when you pat his shoulder and murmur reassuring words.

Hums and sings softly while he works away with a carving he brought with him, his voice carried on the breeze as it ruffles your clothes. He's no bard - far from it - but he finds a comfortable range in familiar lyrics, and it's all you need while the creak bubbles and the trees creak contentedly.

While you settle down at the base of your new favourite tree, a journal or spell book or novel in hand, your faithful gnome scuttles around in a circle on all fours, getting himself comfy, before nuzzling his head in your lap. After barely tracing his forehead with a finger and scritching him behind the ears, he's fully conked out, fast asleep and snoring.

-

Dorian 💙

Give this man a bottle of sparkling wine and a flower crown, stat. He's come prepared with a makeshift picnic in his pack - cheeses, cured meats, fruit, crusty bread, cream and chocolate and whatever else you may desire. Dorian knows what you like and how to make it, and does it especially well when it's dessert related. Manages to forget a blanket to sit on, but happily spreads out his cape across the vibrant grass instead.

You bet your butt he's brought his instruments to serenade you as the sun goes down, inking the watercolour sky with blues, reds, oranges, pinks and purples. His face is warm under your gaze, his fingers catching strings on his lute or gasping for breath on his flute, a bit nervous. But you barely notice. How could you when the moment is so perfect and he keeps looking at you like that?

Holds out his hand to you, sighs a smile when you take it, gently pulls you close and slowly begins to sway to the music that nature provides. He twirls you around when birds flock overhead. You return the favour as leaves crunch underfoot. He bows like the gent he is and kisses your knuckles just as the light begins go dim.

-

Fearne 💙

It's initially a bit chaotic, I'm not gonna lie. You both enter you secret clearing, hand in hand as Fearne begins to ooh and ahh at the picturesque scene ahead. The moment is then disturbed by Little Mister screeching and scrambling up one of the large oak trees. You and the faun have to coo reassuringly at him once he scales to the top, suddenly afraid of his newfound height.

Once he's back on the ground though, it's such a lovely day. She begins picking flowers and berries growing on the outskirts of the glade, and organises them into separate pouches (toxic and non toxic - please don't let her mix up which one is which) for later shenanigans. You don't think she can talk to plants, but she claims that the red clovers won't stop gushing about how perfect you are.

Provides the most amazing cuddles once her curiosity towards the flora has been sated. Both of you being druids, together you fashion delicate pillows of flowers and leaves, a blanket in case the sun sets too soon. She's soft and strong as she holds you close, your nose in her hair - ticklish, perhaps, but worth it when she smells of rain and fire and magic.

-

Imogen 💙

She brings this massive sun hat with a brim that keeps flopping over her face and accidentally covering her eyes. Imogen huffs and says it's more of a hindrance than helpful, but she's literally so cute that you duck under it to give her unexpected surprise kisses throughout the day. She stammers every time but always melts just as you move away.

She gets freckles on her shoulders and legs as she spends the day in soft sunlight with you, enjoying the peace and quiet your hideaway offers. She can finally breathe and hear herself think, your thoughts sometimes bleeding in with hers - not overwhelming, but welcome. She has a book to read, flicking through chapter after chapter with ease for the first time in what feels like ever. The isolation is a welcome sensation, the absence of her headaches unusual but a gift.

Begins to read out loud when you move to sit behind her, arms curling around her middle and perching your chin on her shoulder. She muffles a laugh when you absentmindedly place a kiss to her skin there, especially if she's reciting a chapter from the romance novel. She shies away at some of the cheesier scenes, and is reassured by your combined comments and thoughts, but inevitably sets the book down in favour of the wonderful person beside her.

-

Laudna 💙

The flowing layered grey skirt with frills at the hem that she chose today is specially worn for you this occasion. She slips off her shoes and swings them gently by the ribbons as she walks ahead of you, the grounding of the soil and grass beneath her feet, the softness of the skirt's material swaying about her legs, and the warmth of the sun on her face is delightful. She's basically glowing and feels alive and new. It makes your heart happy to see your favourite person in your favourite place.

Adores cloud watching. Despite her seemingly frail form, she drags you along to a lovely patch of grass and urges you to lie down, and she follows you after to lay her head on your shoulder. She begins to point out and speculate shapes overhead, naming creatures and characters you've never heard of before but so terribly wish to get to know. You both combine your cloud shapes and act out their stories before they drift away.

She feels like a princess with her druid lover in such a secluded paradise. You're braiding flowers into her hair in the shade (she burns easily) while she chatters away with Pâté and Sashimi in her lap. Once you tap her shoulders and signal you're finished your work, she skips over to the water to admire her reflection before pressing a giggly kiss to your mouth.

-

Orym 💙

Flower power couple ;^; Orym is weaving you such beautiful floral arrangements worthy of winning pageants, tucking them into your hair, behind your ear, about your collar and wrists as you struggle to keep up with him. He's got such a natural affinity for flower crowns and daisy chains in particular, despite not being an avid magic user. The tips of his ears burn crimson when you place your own crown upon his head, brushing stray locks of hair from his face tenderly as you do so.

Didn't plan to bring a picnic, but brought leftover pie slices from breakfast wrapped in parchment to share. The pastry is flaky, tastier than it was when it was first served that morning. You both fill your canteens and wineskins from a little nearby stream, the water tasting clean and finer than any ale to cleanse your palate. It's a simple bite to eat, but when you're surrounded by such luscious green land, you can't help but feel like you've been spoiled by a feast.

Promises you that he's not tired, even when his eyelids begin to feel heavy and he is trying to hold back a yawn. It's only late afternoon, but you know it's been an eventful day. He tucks himself into your side, adamant on staying awake, but you're warm and soft and he works so hard and stays on guard all the time... closing his eyes might do him some good. Soon enough, you've got a quietly snoring halfling gripping onto your side, his forehead pressed to your ribs. You let him rest as you enjoy the peace of your secret meadow, and you swear you feel his hand gently squeeze your own in thanks.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Kinktober threesome with robin and franky? 😏

In this event you were supposed to list two other options just in case your pick was already taken but since this one was sent at the tail end when majority of days were taken I decided to be flexible on it so hope you enjoy!

Day 18: threesome

(This work includes gender neutral!reader)

(NSFW under the cut as always)

Your breath is heavy as you barely wield the strength to hold up your own head, warm blossoming hands caressing and folding your body so securely that you swear your bones are nothing but jelly at this point. You cry, pleasuring tears as the crook of your neck arches back into the chest of the tall woman with soft gentle eyes gazes down upon you with a breezy chuckle past her glossy yet kiss swollen lips.

"Such a delight as always, (Name). Letting yourself be used like this." Her tone scorches heat to your numb cheeks is only the icing on the cake as your body lay there relishing in her many armed pin down, nails of the sprouting hands providing a nice sting to your skin. From out from underneath you and wrapping around to grab at your throat and gently squeeze around your face to bring you closer to her is the woman's natural arm that's actually her - from what you could immediately determine given the clone arms tending to give put less heat in comparison to her actual body. From the glimmering domineering presence in her eyes that never fails to get your heart scattered about your chest and your stomach churning to how raven black hair just so perfectly frames her face only swishing around from every movement made to your body and tickling your face every now and again but no - no what your most focused on is her lips and the wicked sexy curl they turn into. It's just... so perfect you can't help but to throw up your hands to pull her down to meet you into a clumsy kiss.

"Hey, uh, you know you two I'm glad you're having yourself a super time but don't forget about the super cyborg in the room over here!" The both of you pull away to look at the man in between your legs and for the first time in several minutes you're aware of your lower body's existence once more.

While sprouting summoned hands hold up your ankles and spreading your thighs way a part, is the comically large prostatic dildo that is Franky's penis inside you.

Robin can't help but to chuckle to herself. "Well, it seemed like you were busy in the moment so I thought I could steal (Name)'s attention, my apologies Franky for being so selfish," She leans back forward to kiss you once more, before your lips tongue humming; "-they were just too cute I just couldn't help myself." The cyborg pouts.

"Don't worry you're cute too." Says the archeologist after your kiss, pulling herself forward and evermore pushing you are squished between them in theirs. One sharp thrust that hits deeper and sweeter inside your ears a loud squeak shooting from your throat that Robin chuckles at as she moves back, sprouted hands spreading you even further and shoving you further on Franky's cock.

Soon you're breathless and almost panting for your life in between the noises that you hoped that the rest of the crew from outside the ship were still tuckered out from the night out partying so that they didn't hear. Franky's hands squeeze and pinch in deep marks on the delicate skin of your thighs as he jams each and every slam into your hole following by all the sweetest yet dorky lines of praise that only the cyborg would be able to think of. Robin's many hands grip and pin down every joint they can to keep you grounded and start squirming in one place so that you could could feel every single bit of pleasure from your given by your lovers and every a sprouted mouth appears in the fray to lavish at your need increasing everything by tenfold.

"More - need to-" you let out a raspy wine as you breathlessly plea.

"Please what?" Robin teases, her voice low comping upon your ear and your chest tinges as you barely find the strength to be able to repeat yourself with the pleasure shaking your core as Franky next thrust is off angle and presses deeply into your walls. "-I need more." You finally managed to wheeze out. Robin offers Franky a look from over your shoulder.

"Hmmm," The cyborg hums in dramatic fashion before the grip on your legs suddenly loosen and your whole being flipped on your stomach where Robin has moved further on the bed and her hands laid delicately on your face and your led to where her own wet need awaits.

"You've been so good for us, (Name). I'm sure you'll sound so lovely when you've reach you peak with us but it would be ashame if the others picked up on what we've been up too tonight, isn't that right Franky?" A sudden slap gets the cyborg the yelp out a surprised moan as you look back and see one of the sprouted hands groping his ass, red faced he quickly nods his head with a thumps up. "Y-yeah, she definitely has a point there. I'm not exactly interested in making up stuff on the fly whenever Luffy or Chopper has questions 'ya know."

Cheeks flushed you give her a nod as you look at your lover's dripping arousal with hunger, mind hazy you lean forward as delve in going in deep as you can as you mouth ravishes her. Robin's hands squeeze tightly into your hair as she let you make your own pace as start in beat of Franky's shuddered thrusts that push you everso further into your rhythm.

In tangled between Franky's sweet but rough lips on your back and shoulders and Robin's sweet moans and shivers - you let your body go limb. With Robin's fingers clutching onto your head to control where your tongue goes both inside her and up against sucking her clit and the pink walls of her lips and with it could be argued if it's Franky large hands on your waist or his cock that was completely wrecking your hole keeping your up and moving, you didn't have to do anything and your eyes roll entirely into your skull because of it.

But all good things must eventually end when you all nearly come at the same time; first it's Franky whose high technological penis goes about haywire with reaching its sensitivity limit and the artificial lube combusts inside of you on the spot at the same time the knot in your gut completely snaps and you yourself clenched around him as you melt into you high seconds before Robin hisses out a low growl curse and her knees lock around your shoulders as her come drenches your entire face.

In those few moments time seemed like it nothing existed, not a care in the world as you three eventually untangled from each other - messy sloppy kisses all around. Robin's devil fruit limbs finally fades away as she gathers the strength to sit up and help you sit up while Franky gathers a cloth to help wipe off your face and the lube that is currently still flooding out of your hole and onto the sheets below.

Eventually you laid between them, none of really saying anything because there's nothing to say - it's all been silently said before every time you three have been in the afterglow like this. All of you weren't necessarily the most best of people when it comes to relationships but you all knew you cared about one another - you're crewmates afterall and maybe that's why the reality of what this relationship between you three became almost taboo like to say out loud in fear of making things awkward between you three and/or the rest of the crew. The fireworks that still shoot of with the rest of the crews celebrate outside become more of white noise as you all lie there with your eyes growing more heavier and heavier as time goes on, Robin rests her head on your chest and Franky his hands across your waist and rest to the other side of Robin to include her in the cuddle it warms your heart.

You love both of them, you really do and you know that they feel the same about you and each other. Maybe it want go anywhere until the day Luffy has the crown or after the crew eventually parts but for now in these crazy times you'll dream of your little fantasy of what the future of bring with these two right by your side.

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