#scotch cherries

[acocktailmoment]

Blood and Sand !

Ingredients:

1 oz. scotch

0.75 oz. sweet vermouth

0.75 oz. Cherry Heering

1 oz. fresh orange juice

.25 tsp. lemon juice

Method:

Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with ice and shake hard for 12 to 15 seconds. Strain up into a coupe or cocktail glass and garnish with an orange peel.

This article was not sponsored or supported by a third-party. A Cocktail Moment is not affiliated with any individuals or companies depicted here.

[whimsicalcotton]

rly specific stims that are Unmatched

-- when your cat sits in your lap and leans over your arm a bit and makes little tiny biscuits and you can feel the tips of their claws just barely digging into your skin

-- eating a whole handful of jolly ranchers and then topping it off with something sour and you can feel it buzzing between your molars and you know your tongue is gonna be mad at you tomorrow but in the moment it's so worth it

-- being the big spoon and slinging every available limb over gf and holding onto them like a sloth

[elephantbitterhead]

The subtle variations in shape & color among wild rose hips are yet another thing I did not appreciate before I started this garden. Here we have the hips of field roses, dog roses, sweet briar, a mystery rose that was sold to me as something it is not, and the wonderfully strange black fruits of the Scotch rose.

[on-my-way-to-the-woods]

Aaaannnndddd another attempt 🤞

Built the bed up some more so the landlord is less likely to mow it over this time

Some of these seeds are getting started later in the season then they should be, some are 4+ years old, all have been stored terribly between many moves so, uh, we'll see what happens

[bad-eggs-comic]

Group selfie

[iammannyj]

Spreading Some Island Heat: Crafting My Fiery Jamaican-Canadian Garden Hot Sauce!

Spreading Some Island Heat: Having Fun Crafting My Fiery Jamaican-Canadian Garden Hot Sauce!

Hey, my green thumbs and spice lovers! Excited to share my latest garden experiment with all of you – with a touch of Jamaican heat! 🌶️🔥 You know, us gardeners have a special connection with nature, and I couldn’t resist adding a little island twist to my creation! My garden, and my imagination running wild with the vibrant flavors of my heritage. I decided to blend what brings together the…

[thinkinonsense]

WORK SONG❀

old!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: fluff, some angst/sadness, a line or two that could be nsfw

wc: 500+

a/n: this idea has haunted me for days now. also, we need more old logan fics!! 2029 logan is so hot and no one wants to talk about it.

part two here

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Logan didn't understand why you stayed with him. He can't give you the life you deserve and it kills him because he knows you won't leave for your own good. There were times when Charles would even tell you to run, it broke your heart to see them both suffering.

Logan always commented that you needed to be with someone your age, someone without so much baggage, someone not as dangerous as him. Yet, you stuck around through everything; taking care of Charles and Logan after he's had a rough day.

Truth be told, you were content with your life. Logan made you happy and made you feel important. He provided what he could but you knew he was hurting. His life was far more complicated than you imagined but you were determined to ease it for him.

There were nights when you would wait for him to come home from work. He hated it when you would do that; mumbling into your neck about how you should be resting.

"Couldn't sleep without you, Lo..." You would yawn, wrapping your arms around his sore body.

"Let's get you to bed, princess." He says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

The only time he could completely relax was in the early morning hours when your sleeping body rested on top of his; as close together as humanly possible. He felt so full of love when you looked at him. Logan felt selfish by keeping you isolated here but god, does he adore you.

On the rare occasion, Logan gets a day off, you make a whole day of it. The two of you would stay in bed all morning. When you would get up to check on Charles, you would slip on one of Logan's shirts from the night before. By noon there would be a cherry pie in the oven and a bottle of scotch on the table. You pull out his favorite cigars while he keeps you glued to his lap. He didn't need anything other than you.

Sometimes Logan would joke that your kisses give him toothaches because you're too sweet for him. You would blush and playfully slap his chest.

At dinner, he would stare at you from across the table while you talked with Charles. If Logan didn't know better, he would've sworn he dreamt you up; some figment of his imagination.

You took care of him any way that you could; kissing his bloody knuckles before wrapping them up, washing his hair when he was too tired to move. He would come home a mess some days yet you never questioned what caused it. When Laura entered your life, you didn't need an explanation. She would be cared for the same as Charles and Logan. You didn't care what he had done as long as he returned home at night.

Logan knew he didn't have much time left. He was falling apart in ways he would never let you see. The more he thought about dying, the less he cared what the afterlife had in store for him because you were his heaven.

No grave would hold him down. Logan was sure to crawl home to you.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Shut up and dance with me

steddie, omegaverse, a little bit of fun during my angst-fest to celebrate some follower milestones 🥰

Steve keeps saying he feels goofy wearing a suit, even if he’s happy to do it for Robin. It’s non-traditional, sticking an omega in black-tie. But neither is an alpha like Buckley having an omega as her best man. Her mating ceremony is beautiful, Chrissy absolutely sparkles, and Steve cries through half of it because he’s so happy for his best friend.

Eddie might cry a little, too.

He’s seated in the front row, with Robin’s family, since he and Steve are ‘capital S’ Serious, and Steve has practically been adopted by Robin’s parents. Melissa catches him crying and smiles; she’s certain to ask when he and Steve are going to tie the knot themselves.

He’s nowhere near ready to answer that one. Especially without Steve to help. Eddie hasn’t wanted to rush things, even being friends so long beforehand. Knows that he loves Steve more than anything. But they’ve barely been dating a year…

After the ceremony, Steve catches his eye from the reception line. “You good?” Eddie mouths, quirking a questioning brow.

Steve makes a dumb face—pretends to cry—gives him a thumbs up, and it’s like everything rearranges, his whole world shifting a couple inches to the left.

He knows.

All his worries about it being too fast float away like so much dust on the wind. He’d be happy enough watching Steve from across the room for the rest of his life, to giggle and mime at one another.

But after the reception, he gets to take Steve home.

Not being in the wedding party, he should honestly head over to the venue soon—after going through the receiving line. He kisses Chrissy’s cheek, tells her she looks stunning, high fives Robin for locking down her perfect omega, and whispers, “I’ll be waiting for you with a cocktail,” in Steve’s ear.

He manages to cop a feel, squeezing Steve’s ass before pulling back, earning him a tiny whine as they part.

Forcing himself to keep walking, Eddie hates leaving his m—

Hates leaving Steve. He wants to run back and scoop him into his arms. To keep him close.

Instead, he gets in Steve’s car and drives to the reception, grabs a scotch from the open bar, and distracts himself from missing Steve by chatting with Jonathan who is just as in need of the company since Argyle and Nancy are also in the wedding party.

Eddie’s on his second scotch when he hears whispers that the limo has arrived, and he goes to order a Manhattan for Steve with extra cherries. He’s barely got the coupe glass in hand before the DJ is announcing the new Mr. and Mrs. Buckley.

They’ve changed into their reception outfits: Chrissy’s dress short and frothy, Robin in metallic pants and a shirt unbuttoned halfway down her sternum, both of them already dancing as they make their grand entrance.

The whole room hoots and hollers as they burst into cheers.

The rest of the party has changed too. Nancy’s in a slinky dress, the depth of the black of it the only thing hiding the outline of her dick. Argyle is in shorts that make him seem ridiculously tall, and Heather is in a romper covered in rhinestones.

Then there’s Steve.

He’s dressed to match Robin in silver-sequined pants, trading the button-down for a loose tank top that shows off too much of his golden skin, freckles and moles like so many stars in the sky.

Eddie’s mouth waters as he makes his way over to him, drink in hand.

“Damn, sweetheart!” he says, eyes locked on Steve’s tits, needing to hold him by the sides and slip his thumbs in to tease his nipples.

Steve grips hush chin, tilts his gaze up until their eyes meet. “Thanks, babe.” He smiles into their kiss, uses his teeth a little.

Eddie offers him the drink, and Steve happily accepts, plucking out a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Another kiss, this one cherry-sweet, and Steve downs his drink, holding his extra cherry between his teeth for a long moment, grinning as he bites it in half.

“Why is it so hot when you do that?” Eddie rasps, his dress pants suddenly a little too tight.

Steve smiles, pulls half the cherry from between his lips, and presses it to Eddie’s mouth. “Shut up and dance with me, Munson,” he says, laughing, barely containing his delight.

He drags Eddie onto the dance floor, the alpha going willingly, hands easily finding their way onto Steve’s hips. Falling to the beat, into moving with one another is easy. So easy, Eddie nearly forgets his revelation from earlier.

And he’s distracted again by Steve’s chest.

“You okay there, Munson?” he teases, using a single finger to direct Eddie’s gaze back up to face him. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A purr rumbles through Eddie’s chest as he leans in close. “Why d’ya still call me Munson all the time, Stevie?” he murmurs, then kisses Steve’s ear.

“Like the way it sounds. I like everything about you, Eddie.” The words are soft and vulnerable, barely audible over the pulse of the music.

It makes Eddie brave enough to be vulnerable, too.

“How do you like the sound of Mrs. Munson? Or Ms.” He smiles. “Whichev-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

“I like the sound of that a lot.”

[virginsexgod69]

❝Jealous ❞

pairing Professor! Daryl Dixon x F! Student! Reader with a sprinkle of Professor Rick

summary After getting drunk with your friends, you wake up at Professor Dixon's place where you explore something new. Rick lets you despite the jealousy brewing inside him.

cw smut, voyeurism, unprotected p in v, jealousy but also cuckolding lowkey, teacher - student relations, power imbalance, age gap, creampie, blow jobs, mentions of underage drinking (Reader is 20, legal drinking age is 21), outdoor sex

2.7k words

series masterlist

"Ready yet?" Rosita asked. 

"Gimme a sec," you replied. You were sat on the floor of your dorm room, doing your makeup in front of the floor-length mirror. 

"I'm ready," Maggie said as she grabbed her purse. 

Your two best friends, Maggie and Rosita, wanted to go to a bar to celebrate finishing mid terms. You were apprehensive at first, considering you weren't twenty-one quite yet, but they promised you'd still have a good time. 

"Alright, let's go!" 

Maggie came back to the table carrying everyone's drinks- a cosmopolitan for Rosita and a scotch and soda for her. The drink she slid in front of you was pink with cherries in it. 

"Ooh, what's this?" you asked curiously. 

"Shirley Temple," Maggie said, struggling to hold back a laugh. Rosita bursted into a contagious fit of giggles, Maggie joining in, but you stared at them with a flat face. 

"What? S'not my fault you're not twenty-one yet," she told you once the two of them calmed down. 

"Ha. Ha," you said sarcastically before taking a sip of the non-alcoholic beverage. It was delicious, which made you madder. You drank with them all the time outside of bars, but now of all times Maggie wanted to abide by the law? 

"Thank god mid terms are over. We can finally rest," Maggie said, leaning back into her seat. 

"Is it just me, or was Professor Grimes' midterm unnecessarily hard?" Rosita asked. 

"I thought it was fine." 

"Speak of the devil," Maggie said and you all turned to look where she was looking. Over at the counter stood Professor Grimes and Professor Dixon, looking delicious in casual clothing. You shrunk in your seat, willing Rick to not see you. You weren't doing anything wrong, but you didn't want him seeing you at a bar to shatter the good girl image you worked so hard to maintain. Thankfully, when the men got their beers, they sat elsewhere without noticing you. You let out a breath of relief you didn't even know you were holding. 

"I'ma get me a real drink," you tell your friends as you stand up from the table. 

"Told you she'd want a big girl drink," Rosita joked. Maggie laughed but you just rolled your eyes. You sauntered over to the bar and ordered yourself a long island iced tea. Miraculously, your fake ID fooled the bartender, that or she just didn't care. You made sure to keep an eye on Rick’s table, making sure neither of the men saw you. 

“See, the fake ID did work!” You boasted upon returning to the table with your drink. 

“I’m surprised Eugene even made that for you,” Rosita commented. 

“I may have twisted the truth on why I needed it.” The three of you burst into a fit of laughter before going back to chatting about anything and everything. 

“I’m gonna order us a round of shots,” Rosita said after a while. 

After multiple rounds of shots- you lost count- the three of you were rather tipsy. Maggie and Rosita had to hold you up as you were too tipsy to walk straight. Neither of you were in a state to drive, so you had called a ride. 

“Look, it’s Professor Grimes!” You said a little too loudly, obviously pointing at him. Your friends shushed you, covering your mouth with a hand, not wanting the attention of their professor. But it was too late, him and Professor Dixon were on their way over.

“Everything alright, ladies?” He asked. He looked so good in that black t-shirt and jeans and so did Professor Dixon. The cotton fabric could barely restrain his strong arms as they were crossed over his chest. 

“Rick!” You squealed, wiggling yourself free from your friends’ arms and stumbling into his. He caught you and held a strong arm around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. The two women stared at the interaction strangely, but didn’t say anything. 

“C’mon, we gotta get back to the dorms,” Maggie said, holding her hand out toward you. 

“Nooo, wanna go with Rick,” you slurred, burying your face in his chest. Rick sighed. 

“I got her, I’ll make sure she gets to her dorm safe,” he promised. The women gave some pushback, but between Rick’s insistence and your whining, they finally agreed to let you go with him. When they finally got picked up by the ride you called, Rick picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car with Daryl in tow. 

"You fuckin' yer student?" Daryl asked before taking a drag of his cigarette. He and Rick were sat on his porch, having some beer and smoking together. You were inside, asleep on the couch in one of Daryl's t-shirts. You had fallen asleep in the car ride back to the dorms and neither man thought it’d look right to carry your sleeping form back to your room, so instead they took. You back to Daryl’s place. They couldn’t bring you back to Rick’s considering his wife and kid were there. 

"Yeah. S'more than that, though. She's more than just a good fuck," he explained. 

"Have her in one of my classes. She's such a tease." Although Rick laughed, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He didn't like the idea of you going around flirting with his colleagues like you do him. 

"Yeah? How so?" 

"Always wearin' those goddamn low cut tops and leanin' on my desk, or wearin' them tiny skirts with no panties on," he explained. Those little things you did were how you got Rick's attention in the first place. He wondered if he was the only one, or if you did this with all of your professors. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Never gave into it?" Rick asked, shocked. This time Daryl laughed. 

"Ain' riskin' my job over no damn pussy!" 

“Hey!” You chimed in, offended. The men’s head snapped toward you, just now realizing you were awake. 

“You’re finally awake,” Rick commented. He, surprisingly, didn’t seem too happy to see you. Daryl’s face remained expressionless as he watched the two of you. 

“Where am I? What’s going on?” You asked, now way more sober than before. 

“You fell asleep in the car, so we took you to Daryl’s house. Got you changed into one of his spare shirts and let you sleep on his couch,” Rick explained cooly. You looked at Daryl and he just glanced up at you with a cigarette in his mouth. You were shocked he’d do something so nice for you, considering he didn’t even look your way, despite your advances. 

“Ain't you gonna thank him?” 

“Th-thank you, Dar- Professor Dixon,” you said, flustered. “Welcome,” he replied with a nod of his head. 

“Take a seat,” Rick ordered, patting his lap. You hesitantly sat on his lap, not really wanting to under the curious gaze of Daryl. With one hand, he roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. 

“You wanna tell me what you were doin’ at that bar, drunk?” 

“Uhh…drinking?” His grip tightened, squeezing your cheeks causing your lips to puff out. 

“Underage drinking?” 

“M-my birthday’s in a few months, Rick, it’s no big-“

“If I were still a cop, I’d’ve thrown your ass in jail.” His tone was dark, almost scary even. Your eyes watered, tears threatening to spill over. You’ve never seen him like this before. 

“Rick, why’re you bein’ so m-mean?” You whimpered. Rick understood the hypocrisy of his actions. Punishing you for having eyes for his colleague when he was a married man, using you as an escape from his commitment. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help the anger, the jealousy, he felt knowing he wasn’t the only one. 

“Why don’ you ask Professor Dixon?” He turned your head to face him. Shame washed over you. You didn’t want him seeing you like this, a tearful pathetic mess sitting on the lap of your superior after clinging to him like a drunk mess earlier. 

“Wha’s goin’ on? I’m c-confused?” You asked, finally letting your tears fall. 

Daryl noticed the change in his best friend’s demeanor as soon as he told him about your behavior in his class. Now knowing that you were Rick’s, he’d never betray him like that. No matter how tempted he was by your innocent doe eyes always paying attention to him when he taught, or the way you teased him with the little outfits you wore, or how you’d frequent his office hours, pretending to need help just so you could have one on one time with him. 

“Jus’ told him ‘bout your…interestin’ behavior in my class,” he innocently explained before finishing off his beer. He know how much trouble that’d get you in, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interesting in how it’d play out. 

You turned to face Rick, ready to deny Daryl’s claims and defend yourself, but the stern look he gave you caused the words to die on your tongue. He lifted you off his lap and pushed you toward the other man, causing you to stumble and clumsily fall in into his lap. He caught you, but kept you at a distance, afraid to touch you, because if he did, he doubted he’d be able to stop. 

“If you wan’ him so bad, go on ahead and have him. That’s okay with you, right Daryl?” Rick grabbed another beer from the cooler and uncapped it with his teeth. You looked between the two of them, not even knowing what to think. Daryl, too, was looking at Rick apprehensively. 

“Rick, wha’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked. 

“Well she clearly wants you and I saw that way you’ve been lookin’ at her all night. So go on and have at each other,” he explained nonchalantly. You and Daryl exchanged a confused glance. Of course you wanted this to happen, obviously not in this way. Daryl did too. Having you in his lap in one of his shirts made his pants fit uncomfortably. You wanted to make a move, you really did, but what should've been a beautiful moment was awkward. Neither you nor Daryl knew if this was a test of some sorts to test either person's loyalty to Rick, or if he was really allowing this. 

"It's okay, sweetheart, show Professor Dixon how grateful you are for him helpin' you out." He seemed less angry and held sincerity in his eyes. You relaxed a little, having Rick give you commands was comforting. You slid off Daryl's lap and kneeled in between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. You undid he belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down a little after he lifted his hips to let you do so. You glanced over at Rick as you pulled Daryl's hard cock from his boxers. Rick just watched with a blank face and beer bottle in hand. Daryl's warm hand cupped you cheek, earning your full attention. 

"Don' look at Rick, look at me," he commanded softly. Butterflies erupted in your tummy seeing this side of the usually reserved professor. 

"Yes, sir." You licked him from base to tip along the vein on the underside of his cock a few times before taking him all the way into your mouth. He wasn't as girthy as Rick, but he exceeded him in length, making it hard to take all of him in your throat, but that didn't stop you from trying. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water. 

"S'alright, girl, keep goin'," he coaxed. Warmth erupted throughout your body and you became hellbent on pleasuring the gorgeous man before you. You bobbed your head up and down on his dick, earning soft grunts from him here and there, but that wasn't enough, you wanted to have him panting and moaning. You held onto his strong thighs as you took him all the way, this time not gagging. Breathing through your nose, you increased your pace, earning some moans. His hand found the back of your head and held it down as he thrusted up into you, fucking your throat, your nose buried in his brown curls.  His moans were music to your ears and made your pussy clench on nothing. You ground your clit against your heel, getting yourself off a bit as Daryl brought himself closer to his climax with your throat. 

"Cum down her throat, she likes that," Rick chimed in. Daryl's pace increased until he finally flooded your mouth with his release. You swallowed every drop after he pulled out. With his thumb, he put the cum that spilled out of your mouth back in. You gladly accepted, sucking his thumb for good measure. 

"Good girl," he praised. Your cheeks warmed at his praise. You wanted to hear more. You wanted to hear him praise you as he was buried deep in your cunt, pounding into you ready to fill you with his seed. 

"Need you," you begged, staring up at him with pleading eyes. He glanced at his friend as if to ask for permission, but all he did was shrug dismissively, like he didn't even care. He didn't want to push the other man's boundaries, but he felt he owed it to himself for all the times he's pushed you away for fear of losing his job. And he felt himself getting hard again. He stood and pulled you up with him before turning you around. 

"Bend over," he ordered and you did, holding onto the porch's railing. He lifted his t-shirt you wore, revealing the little red thong you had on. He was beating himself up internally for turning you down for so long. He was tempted to just shove his face between your thighs and lick the arousal coating them and taste every bit of you. He yanked the thong down, letting it fall to your ankles. He stroked himself a few timed before lining his cock up with your sopping pussy. You were so wet, he slid inside with ease. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back. You squeezed him perfectly, your warm, plush walls welcoming him home. His hands gripped your hips almost to the point of leaving a bruise, but it all felt too good. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in earning wanton moan from you. He continued thrusting into you, his composure slipping with each thrust. His hands slid up the shirt feeling your body until he got to your breasts. He groped them as he fucked you. 

"You're fucking me so good, Daryl," you moaned as your felt the coil in your tummy tightening, a signal of your impending orgasm. Your legs shook as you gripped the railing even tighter.  

" 'M close," he grunted, his thrusts losing rhythm as he came close to his second orgasm. Your entire body was on fire, Daryl's hands on you felt new and exciting, every touch of his made your spine tingle. Every ending of your nerves was on fire as you came around his cock, squeezing him for everything he had left. 

"This pussy was made fer ma cock," he grunted. He came undone, painting your walls white with his seed. He continued to fuck you through both his and your orgasm. He pulled his now soft cock out of you, watching his cum slowly leak out of your swollen pussy and drip down your thighs. Daryl put himself back together before sitting back down and helping himself to another beer. After catching your breath, you turned to look at Rick, but be was already looking at you. You expected him to be upset that you were physically unable to resist fucking his colleague, his best friend, but instead his pupils were dilated and there was a prominent bulge in his pants. Watching his best friend fuck you definitely did something to him. 

"You get that outta your system?" he asked. He was still a little snappy, but you were grateful he wasn't as angry as before. 

"Yes, sir," you replied meekly. 

"Good. That should hold you over while I'm punishin' you." 

i have not once set foot in a bar, hopefully that wasnt obvious in my writing lmao. perhaps you noticed this wasn't proofread :p

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@banquetwriter @eternalrose81 @the-dixon-effect @dilfsandmartinis

[notmaplemable]

If RWBY was a Vietnam Movie

Blake: You ever notice how it's us poor kids that have to go fight in these wars while those rich pigs in Vale get to sit on their asses?

Weiss: Fuck you.

Yang: Aren't you a princess?

Blake: ...You ever notice that?

------

Jaune: What you doing, Pyr?

Pyrrha: Staring lovingly at a picture of my family so it's extra sad when I die next scene.

Jaune: Oh.

------

Nora: There's lots of different kinds of pancakes.

Ren: ...

Nora: There's regular pancakes, blueberry, chocolate chip, cinnamon pancakes, scotch pancakes-

Ren: Why did we have to be Forest Gump?

Nora: -Cherry pancakes,

------

Qrow: I'm gonna tell you something they don't at Fort Beacon.

Qrow: War crimes are fun!

[acocktailmoment]

Rob Roy !

Ingredients:

2 ounces scotch

3/4 ounce sweet vermouth

3 dashes Angostura bitters

Garnish: brandied cherries

Steps:

Add the scotch, sweet vermouth and bitters into a mixing glass with ice and stir until well-chilled.

Strain into a chilled Nick & Nora or cocktail glass.

Garnish with speared brandied cherries.

Courtesy: Liquor.com / Tim Nusog

This article was not sponsored or supported by a third-party. A Cocktail Moment is not affiliated with any individuals or companies depicted here. 

[dreaming-medium]

Christmas Wrapping

Pairing: Changbin x reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

Summary: Your boyfriend is horrible at wrapping presents. How lucky that he has you to help him.

A/N: This isn’t proofread yet, but I couldn’t help but think of soft Christmas Binnie while I was wrapping presents today <3 Enjoy!

————————————————————————

“Oh lord.” It comes out of your mouth before you can stop it. Then, your statement is quickly followed by a snort and a laugh.

When you opened the door to you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment, the last thing you expected to see was him standing at your kitchen island wrapping presents.

Poppy Christmas music is playing loudly on the Alexa on the kitchen counter. He’s singing to himself, moving his hips back and forth to the beat.

The softest looking cashmere sweater stretches over his broad shoulders, dress pants barely containing his muscular legs.

He may be wrapping presents, but he’s the one that looks like a gift that’s only missing a bow.

The cherry on top was the Santa hat plopped on top of his curly hair.

‘Wrapping presents’ is a loose term though. The two parcels he’s done already are stacked on the counter with the worst wrap job you’ve ever seen in your life.

The edges were bumpy and lumpy, the paper jutting out in every direction. There was so much scotch tape on the paper you’re wondering if you should’ve picked some up on your way home.

Kicking off your shoes and hanging your coat up, you notice that Changbin hasn’t noticed you come home yet, he’s too wrapped up in his Christmas bubble— no pun intended.

When you pad up behind your cozy boyfriend, you slide your arms around his waist and hug him from behind.

Changbin jumps, startled, and makes a tiny noise of surprise.

“Hi, Binnie,” you coo, squeezing him tighter.

“Hello, my Christmas Angel.” His hands rest on top of yours.

His body heat already warming you up from the outdoor chill.

You peer around his shoulder down at the present in front of you. He’s about halfway through the Holiday Abomination he calls wrapping.

“What are you up to?”

He hums and reaches down to twist the half-wrapped gift around. “I knew we were going to be pressed for time before the party tonight, thought I would help with wrapping gifts so you didn’t need to rush.”

Your heart swells three sizes like the grinch, a genuine smile gracing your cheeks.

“Aren’t you sweeter than a Christmas cookie?” You move around to stand next to him and press a long, sweet kiss to his cheek.

When you pull away from his cheek, he’s quicker. Changbin sweetly grabs your face and presses his lips to yours for a long, delicate kiss.

Pulling away, he rubs your cheek with his thumb. “You’re home early, sugar plum.”

You giggle. He’s made it his mission since December first to call you every cheesy Christmas pet name he could think of.

“My boss let us loose for the holiday.” Once more, you wrap your arms around him, he turns to face you completely.

“How nice.” Another peck to your lips.

“More time to spend with my amazing boyfriend,” you say against his lips.

Changbin kisses you again. “Is he coming?” You pinch his side. He yelps and jumps in your arms.

Again and again he kisses your lips sweetly.

You don’t even bother opening your eyes in between them, you know he’s going to continue over and over again.

Eventually, the kisses move to your cheeks, to your nose, your forehead, anywhere he can reach.

Both of you are smiling like idiots, unable to stop your childish giggles.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and push his chest to get him away from you.

Changbin whines. “One more, one more!”

“Okay, okay!”

He leans in and kisses your lips; it’s so soft and gentle. Every delightful emotion that comes with the holiday season is packed into it.

How did you ever spend a Christmas without him? All of those Christmas songs make sense now that you’re with him.

When you lean back to separate from the kiss, he leans forward more, grabbing your waist with both hands to keep you close to him.

The two of you are both so whipped for one another— it’s so sweet it could rot your teeth.

You laugh into the kiss, Changbin can’t help but smile against your lips. Your happiness is so contagious.

Turning your head, you wrap your arms around his neck and look down at the kitchen island.

He continues his assault on your face in spite of his ‘one more’ statement.

You can’t even be mad or upset at the terrible wrap job of the gift, he’s helping in whatever way he could think of.

But, my god, it’s so bad.

More and more laughter bubbles from your chest the longer you look down at it. How did he even do this horrible?

“Binnie, my dear?” you ask.

“Yes, my Christmas cookie?” he responds in between smooches.

“Have you ever wrapped presents before?”

Slowly, his kisses slow down, one by one until he stops and turns to look down at the present in front of you both.

His arms wrap around your waist even tighter, his cheek presses against yours.

God, the two of you are sickening to anyone but yourselves.

“Is it obvious?”

Yes. “No.”

You turn and kiss his cheek. “I think it’s great for your first time.” Kiss. “I’ll help you with the rest.” Kiss. “And I’ll show you an even easier way to wrap them.” Kiss.

He laughs against your face.

“Okay, okay, come on then, teach me how to wrap them, Betty Lou Who.”

Reaching up, you pinch his cheek playfully. “Don’t be a grinch.”

Chuckling, he pushes your hand away from his face, feigning pain.

You both turn and look at the present. “Here,” you say, turning it around a bit. “We’ll finish this guy and then do the rest.”

Changbin presses one last kiss on the crown of your hair and turns his attention to the poorly wrapped gift once more.

“Can you man the tape dispenser?” You grab the tape and hand it to him.

He nods, already ripping one piece off.

Assessing the damage, you go to work. It’s a box set of party games that you bought for Felix. He’s been hosting more get togethers at his apartment, and each time, he complains about not having any games to play.

You fold the paper around and make some cuts at the excess.

When you hold your hand out, Changbin sticks a tiny piece of tape to your finger. Smiling, you tape down the paper and spin the box to work on the sides.

You repeat this process over and over with the gift until it’s covered with green and gold paper.

Humming, you look around. “Do you wanna put a bow on it?”

Changbin giggles, “Yes.” He reaches for the bag and finds the bow with the most glitter on it and sticks it right in the middle of the box.

“Okay, now write his name on a label and stick it to the box.”

He follows your instructions and you grab the next present.

A new picnic basket set for Hyunjin. Changbin insisted this was the perfect gift for him.

Thank god it came in a box.

You roll out the sparkly paper and start measuring and cutting. Changbin watches closely over your shoulder.

Fold after fold, you wrap up the gift, your boyfriend continuing to hand you pieces of tape.

He hums and sings along with the songs playing over the speaker.

Before you could even ask, he slaps on a big bow and a premade label.

“Beautiful!” he cheers, picking up the gift to move it to the side.

He puts it with the other completed gifts. The stark difference between your handiwork and his makes you snort.

Three more gifts to wrap.

You grab the nice diffuser you bought for Chan. It came with several scents which you read were great for falling asleep; which he desperately needed.

Hovering over your shoulder, Changbin continues to watch your movements closely.

In between tape pieces, he kisses your neck and shoulders softly. Each press sends goosebumps down your arms.

Within a few minutes, the diffuser is wrapped, a bow placed on top with a label written out.

Changbin grabs the gift and moves it to the side.

You’re preparing to wrap the new knife set for Minho when you feel something placed on top of your head. A soft, white puff ball bounces in front of your eyes.

“Much better for my little snow Angel.” Changbin wraps his arms around you from behind, his nose tucking into your neck.

The Santa hat that now adorns your head matches his.

You lean into his warmth, it wraps around you like a blanket. To the slow rhythm of the music, Changbin sways the two of you back and forth.

You’re still able to reach the gift in his grasp.

Humming to the music, you continue to wrap Minho’s gift. Changbin picks up the tape and hands you pieces.

With the way he’s holding you, it’s like you have a second set of arms.

Which would be remarkably helpful this time of year.

The gift is wrapped before the song is over.

“You want to put a bow on this one?” you ask, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Changbin looks over to where the bows and labels are on the counter. Dramatically, he reaches his hand out to them. “So far away,” he whines.

Quickly, his arm comes back to wrap around your middle. “Too far away, sorry.”

You kiss his cheek two more times, a dopey smile pulling at his lips. “Drama Queen.”

Pushing the gift to the side, you grab the last one. A laptop stand for Jisung. According yo Changbin, he’s been slouching to look at his in the studio.

“Can I wrap this one?” Binnie asks on your shoulder.

“Of course, baby.”

He releases your waist and comes around to your side. When you don’t move, Changbin looks down at you expectantly.

“What?” you ask with a laugh.

“Assume position, Mrs. Claus.” He motions behind him.

You laugh and grab the tape from him. “Oh, sorry, Mr. Claus.”

As soon as you’re behind him, Changbin reaches behind him to grab your wrists and wraps them around his body.

You’re barely able to peer over his shoulder or around his bicep to see how he’s doing.

Changbin hesitates for only a few seconds before rolling out the wrapping paper.

He smells so nice. You nuzzle your nose into his sweater. A clean, musky scent wraps around your nose. He smells like the holidays.

Your arms tighten around him.

“You’re bad at playing Tape Girl.” He pats your hand.

“My bad, there’s a hulking man blocking my vision.” You rip a piece of tape and hold it for him to take.

Changbin takes the piece from your fingers. “A muscular hunk, you mean.”

“A muscular, sexy, bulging, handsome man.”

“Oh, I like that better.”

You feel him flex his abs under your hands. Giggling, you squeeze him tighter.

There’s some movement, you rip another piece of tape. He takes it.

You take over his previous job of swaying to the music and humming behind him. The softness of his sweater feels so nice against your cheek.

His shoulder muscles move with each fold and turn off the present.

When you rip each piece of tape, he takes it gingerly.

It takes a lot longer than if you did it, but Changbin proclaims the present as finished after a few minutes.

Peering around his body, you warily take a look.

And much to your surprise, the present is neatly wrapped! It’s not perfect by any means, but it’s definitely better than his first two attempts.

“Wow, Binnie!” you say with a smile. “You learn quickly!”

He turns around, you move your arms up around his neck.

Changbin nuzzles his nose with yours in an Eskimo kiss. The two of you giggle like school kids.

His arm raises above your head. Pulling away, you look up to see him holding a small bundle of green ribbon.

“Mistletoe,” he says cheekily.

“That’s not mistletoe,” you tease.

Changbin kisses your cheek slowly, he moves all around your skin, skillfully avoiding your lips.

“Oh, it’s not?” Kiss. “I guess I can’t kiss you anymore then.”

He begins to pull away from you but you just as quickly yank his face back to yours.

“Come here, you big softie.”

He laughs and drops the ribbon on the ground, scooping you up with both arms to kiss your lips.

Each time your lips meet, it feels like the first time. Your heart lights up like a Yule log— his love is warmer than any fireplace, any mug of cocoa you could ever wrap your hands around.

His lips slide over yours slowly, making sure you feel every ounce of his love. Even your heartbeats begin to sync up.

“I love you,” you whisper in between kisses.

“I love you too, my sugar cookie.”

[ravenna-reid]

Whiskey, Sultry Tunes & Vigilantes

JASON TODD x JAZZ CLUB SINGER READER

Jason just needs to go to the most famous Jazz club in Gotham to gather intel then quickly leave, but a certain singer makes him stay longer than he anticipated... No warnings <3

I actually rlly like this one so pls lmk if you do too!

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

A magnetic violet blanketed the room from the lights that constantly streamed inside of the club, setting a soft, sensual mood. Guests sat before the stage, a few residing along the quiet bar. Subtle discussions and the clinks of scotch and wine glasses simmered in the air, along with the melancholic yet powerful tune that came from the band and their instruments. The sombre cello, the soulful piano, the triumphant trumpet.

And the famous Jazz singer of the club.

The Blue Room’s jewel. 

Sparkling diamonds hung from your ears and adorned your neck. Glistening eyeshadow, slick eyeliner and plump lips. A black silk dress hugged at your body and draped down to the floor, gloves the same colour running up above your elbows complimenting your dress. The wig you wore looked unbelievably real, the cherry red catching glints of the deep purple from the stage lights above as you sung the sultry tune. Men from across the city always came to watch you sing. Voice sweet like honey, smooth like whiskey, strong like thunder. All eyes were trained on you, and people either wanted to be you, or be with you. There was no inbetween.

Jason had merely heard the gossip about the Blue Room. About its perfect blues music and its reputation for the best served scotch and wine.

He’d also heard about the alluring singer that sang there almost every night.

But not being a fan of crowds or anywhere where parties were often thrown, he never went. Until tonight.

“And you’re sure Black Mask and Penguin are conspiring together in the private booths at this club?”

Dick had asked Jason earlier that week as they both went over their limited evidence on the case in the Batcave. 

“No, that’s why I’m going to go investigate.” Jason answered without looking up from the papers sprawled out in front of him. 

“It’d be a shame if it were true,” Dick sighed, “I love that place.”

“Of course you do.” Jason shook his head.

“Can I come?”

“No.”

Leaving the bustling alleyway behind as he entered the club, the atmosphere around him immediately shifted. The rhythm and blues that so often enveloped the club filled his senses instantly. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes, the LED lights that set the mood for the performance, the sound of the band…

And her. 

One gloved hand holding her microphone, the other gently stretching out to the crowd as she lulled them with her song. Her voice, her words, her eyes…

A softness painted her expression, mixed with subtle confidence and a magnifying aura. Elegance. Strength. Heartbreak.

So much emotion in just one song. So much emotion lacing her angelic voice. 

Jason was irrevocably drawn to you. 

The sudden sound of bellowing laughter from a table in front of him drew Jason back into reality. And he was soon reminded that he was there for work, not for entertainment. 

Blood rushing and heart racing – which was actually ridiculous – Jason ignored you and turned down the side of the bar to the more secluded part of the club. Round, mahogany tables that were much larger than the ones before the stage were occupied by couples. The music became more drowned out at that end of the club, more suitable for those who were wanting a romantic date night. Further down though, along the wall and past the bar sat the four private booths. Two were open; a lit bulb in the centre and purple velvet couches on display. But the other two had their curtains drawn.

As Jason crept towards one of the closed booths, his ears fought to listen to your voice. His legs fought to drag him back to the stage. His eyes fought to steal glances of you. Coming to a halt at the first booth, he ripped the curtain back. Two lovers, one on the other's lap, immediately look up at Jason, mortification frozen on their faces. 

“Sorry, wrong booth.” He quickly said before hastily drawing the curtain closed. His cheeks became a rose red as he moved to the next booth. 

Green eyes, so horrifically mesmerised, found their way back to you again as he searched for your figure through the crowd, his eyes following your voice. It was coming to the end of the song, and just as you were hitting the high note, a silence fell over the room as people listened. Giving a subtle shake of his head, he pulled himself back together.

“Come on, Jason.”

Jason was just about to draw the curtain to the second booth open when –

Ears straining to re-hear what he thought he heard, Jason let go of the curtain and looked to his side. Muffled yells could be heard. Past the bar and bathrooms down a dimly lit corridor. A man in an ivory tuxedo, obviously custom made, gripped at the collar of a man in black before him. The man he was grabbing looked fearful as he desperately tried to talk his way out of the situation. But the man in the tuxedo was past practical discussions. He wanted something. And he didn’t want to have to wait any longer. Cheeks a violent red and the hair he had left a dishevelled mess, he finally let go of the man. 

Thunderous applause caught Jason completely off guard as his focus shifted back to you. 

You gave a small, polite bow to the audience, and when you looked back up out into the crowd, your smile instantly gleamed brighter than the lights and jewels that surrounded you. You took the air from Jason’s lungs. 

The band members behind you nodded their heads in appreciation to the crowd. Whistles filled the air alongside the applause. Someone threw a daisy onto the stage. Jason scoffed.

Daisies aren’t nearly pretty enough for her.

Looking back down the corridor to see what the men were doing now, his heart sank when he found they were gone. 

“Shit.”

Ignoring his desire to look back at you one last time, worried you were finished for the night, Jason began down the corridor. Once he reached the end, there were two doors. One that he was sure led to the back of the building where the dumpsters and connecting alleyways sat. Another, however, looked like a small office. Thankfully, the door was slightly open. Jason peered through it to find the one who was just abused by the man in the tuxedo sitting at the desk, head in his hands. Stacks of paper were his only company, alongside framed pictures, certificates and awards for his business, posters of famous singers, and a shimmering gold plaque.

A plaque that read his name.

Jason took a mental note, but his eyes wandered as he wondered where the man in the ivory tuxedo went.

The man in black was sudden in his movement, sending a spike of anxiety through Jason’s chest. He quickly stood from his desk and went through another door in his office; a door that led to the dressing rooms. As Jason listened, he assumed the man was talking to and preparing the other singers that would soon take your place for the remainder of the night. Taking his chance, Jason quickly crept into his office and grabbed a few notes, envelopes, and folders from his desk. Slipping them into his jacket, he was gone in a blink of an eye as the man made his way back into the room. 

But performers were beginning to fill the back area, and Jason had to quickly leave. Walking back down where he came, he opened the back door and stepped outside.

The warm breeze instantly brushed through his raven black hair and against his skin. The dark, Gotham night sky stared down at him from above. Distant sounds of traffic filled the air. It was in no way better than the atmosphere inside of that club, but it was familiar. Comforting. 

Securing the documents he had obtained in the inner pockets of his jacket, Jason was ready to leave until something caught his eye. 

Silky gloved hands ran up and down your arms. Soft cherry red curls swayed against the skin of your back in the wind. 

Jason couldn’t believe it. It was you. It was actually you.

Your eyes were trained on the night sky above, searching for the stars that hid behind the clouds, and although Jason couldn't see your face, he could imagine the serene expression that was painted across it. 

What were you doing out here?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he got to see you one last time before he left. And suddenly all thoughts and questions centering around the man in black and the man in the ivory tuxedo vanished like mist.

He soon realised you hadn’t heard him come outside. He continued standing nimbly behind you. Fiddling with his fingers and feet rooted in the ground like trees. Heart beating faster than a hiccup. 

Say something. Say something. Say something. Say something.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone you know.”

Voice so soft, so gentle. You looked over your shoulder up at Jason, your eyes catching the light from the street lamp beside him.

Jason’s breath hitched.

Shit.

Part Two Soon

[pupsmailbox]

MOTH︰BUTTERFLY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　acantha.　adela.　adley.　aetheria.　aiden.　ainsley.　alis.　allison.　amos.　angle.　ankova.　antler.　apollo.　apple.　arches.　arden.　argent.　ari.　aruna.　ashworth.　aspen.　asteria.　astralyn.　atlas.　barberry.　bay.　bee.　belina.　bellamy.　belle.　blair.　blake.　blossom.　bright.　brighton.　bryn.　butter.　butterfleigh.　butterfly.　cadi.　cai.　calesia.　cali.　canary.　carson.　cayana.　chai.　cherry.　chouko.　cinnabar.　cistus.　clancy.　clifden.　cloud.　clover.　cosmia.　crimson.　daisy.　dakota.　december.　dewick.　dorian.　dot.　dusk.　dust.　eclipse.　eilira.　eilliot.　ellison.　elnora.　emerald.　ermina.　ermine.　esmerelda.　esther.　evelyn.　evern.　falena.　fern.　finley.　fisher.　flora.　fly.　flynn.　forest.　fox.　foxglove.　galatea.　galium.　garnet.　ghost.　ginny.　greta.　grey.　haden.　haven.　hawk.　haworth.　hayden.　heath.　herald.　hesperia.　holli.　hollis.　isabella.　ismeria.　isola.　jael.　jayden.　jersey.　july.　june.　juniper.　juno.　kahli.　kai.　karran.　karson.　kentish.　kimko.　kit.　kori.　lace.　lackey.　langmaid.　lepida.　light.　luca.　lucy.　luna.　lunar.　malam.　maple.　march.　mariposa.　marlow.　marrow.　mars.　may.　micah.　mirza.　mocha.　molie.　monroe.　moth.　mothra.　mothy.　nettle.　november.　oak.　ocaria.　oleander.　opal.　palmyra.　paru.　parvaneh.　peach.　pearl.　pepper.　pine.　pinion.　plume.　poppy.　psyche.　quinn.　reed.　reid.　rekoa.　remi.　riband.　ricki.　robin.　rose.　rosy.　rowan.　ruby.　rufous.　sable.　saffron.　saga.　saige.　scarlet.　scotch.　sibylla.　silver.　skyler.　sula.　swift.　tara.　tate.　tatum.　tawny.　tera.　thora.　tiger.　una.　vanessa.　violet.　virginia.　weaver.　winter.　wren.　yara.　zephyr.　zephyra.　zion.　zoumi.

PRONOUNS ⌇　admir/admiral.　ant/antenna.　anten/antenna.　antler/antler.　apple/apple.　blood/blood.　blue/blue.　bu/butterfly.　bug/bug.　butter/butterfly.　carpet/carpet.　chalk/chalk.　cherry/cherrie.　chrysalis/chrysali.　clear/clearwing.　cloud/cloud.　cocoo/cocoon.　cocoon/cocoon.　dagger/dagger.　dark/dark.　dew/dew.　dot/dot.　dusk/dusk.　dust/dust.　erm/ermine.　eye/eye.　flame/flame.　flap/flap.　flow/flower.　flu/fluttflutter.　fluff/fluff.　fluff/luff.　flutter/flutter.　fly/fly.　forest/forest.　fri/fritillary.　frit/fritillery.　goat/goat.　gold/gold.　hair/hairstreak.　hawk/hawk.　hawk/hawkmoth.　heart/heart.　hide/hide.　hook/hook.　in/insect.　insect/insect.　lace/lace.　lamp/lamp.　leaf/leaf.　lepidoptera/lepidoptera.　light/light.　lu/luna.　luna/luna.　lunar/lunar.　maple/maple.　mo/monarch.　mo/moth.　mocha/mocha.　moon/moon.　mor/morpho.　moth/moth.　nec/nectar.　night/night.　night/night.　nocturnal/nocturnal.　noct/nocturnal.　oak/oak.　plume/plume.　reed/reed.　riph/ripheu.　rose/rose.　sallow/sallow.　shark/shark.　sil/silk.　silk/silk.　small/small.　snout/snout.　squeak/squeak.　squeak/squeaker.　stripe/stripe.　sul/sulphur.　swa/swallow.　swa/tail.　swall/swallowtail.　swift/swift.　tiny/tiny.　tuss/tussock.　wax/waxe.　wing/wing.　☁️ . ⭐️ . 🌕 . 💡 . 🦋 .

[darlingsfandom]

Do you write for Robert Fischer? If you do, can you please make a drabble about reader being sooiled rotten by them? And reader being a bit shy about it. Thanks!

I write for all of Cillians character !!

"What's the matter darling ? Do you not like the tennis bracelet?" Robert sat down next to you holding his glass of scotch.

"No, it's beautiful. I love it! Thank you." You gave him a soft smile and kissed his cheek. Robert took a sip of his scotch before he set it down and pulled you into his lap.

"You're beautiful!" He stroked your cheek gently while you tried to hide your face in his neck. Robert let out a chuckle as he pulled you back out. "Darling, why do you always get so shy when I complement you or buy you such pretty things? My pretty baby deserves nice things." His finger tips ran up and down your spine making you shiver while your cheeks burned red. "See? You're adorable!"

"I... I'm not use to being spoiled! First it was just flowers and chocolates but now it's perfume, jewelry that cost more than my car! I'm not used to it."

"Oh? You don't have a car anymore." Robert picked up his glass and took another drink.

"What? What do you mean I don't have a car?" Your eyebrows came together as you tried to get off his lap.

"Relax honey, all your stuff is in a box in your new car. I couldn't have you driving that old junker around. You have a new car that's much better." Robert took your hand, helped you off his lap and walked with you to the big window of his living room.

"Robert! You shouldn't have!" Your jaw hit the ground as a brand new cherry red love bug sat in the driveway. "This is way too much! We've only been going out for a year!"

"Hey now , I could've bought you a new apartment too, but maybe it's time you finally let down your guard and let me in!" Robert kissed the side of your neck as he stood there holding you while you looked out the window. "Why don't you move in with me?"

You swallowed the lump and wiped away your tears as he spun you around to look at him. Robert had a smile on his face as you smiled up at him and nodded. "Okay, yeah, I'll move in with you." You kissed him lovingly as he kissed you back with the same amount of passion.