#silver syrup

[ninebaalart]

Lobster Tails

it's pretty apparent just looking at my blog that i love weird food and items, with neopets being my primary source of that kind of content. naturally these fall in line with that

[mudwerks]

Canadian weightlifter Maude Charron drinking Canadian Maple Syrup before winning silver

[dreveel]

Muddled Wine Collection;

{Credit} - {Credit} - {Credit}

{Credit} - {Credit} - {Credit}

{Credit} - {Credit} - {Credit}

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Lilia Headcanons:

Part of the reason why Lilia acts so ✨silly✨ is because of his makeup

We all know how back in the old days, lead and radium was used in makeup along with other things.

His makeup is literally toxic to everyone around him

He’s so old the makeup he has from his day is toxic. It has lead, radium, all the good stuff/s

If he turns the lights off, he will glow

Thankfully someone(Silver) took away his makeup and replaced it, so he won’t be dangerous to others anymore.

On a fortunate Malleus makes his makeup from nature or it’s imported from other countries.

Bonus:

No one:

Lilia in the dark:

[llondonfog]

did i hallucinate the card line where lilia says that silver gave him burnt cookies one year for his birthday, why can't i find it!!!

[silversupremacy]

hi im south park silverbrush anon um!!!

im a huge south park nerd and i really like tweek and craig's relationship and i was thinking about how i could connect them to object shows

but HEAR ME OUT

so basically silver spoon would be tweek - tweek is a caffeine addict, silver would be the type of object to like coffee. they're both total anxiety monsters, silver probably sees underpants gnomes too (the little gnomes that come in your room at 3 am and steal ur underpants), like they'd literally be the bestest pookies ever

as for craig and pb - both of them are super chill and dont give a flying fuck about anything but are both super duper silly. they are probably constantly mad at their anxiety beast boyfriends and constantly telling them to stop drinking cofffee because believe it or not "it'll just make your panic attacks worse!"

gahhh idk i jst think the idea is cute and all!!! :D

It is true that my vers of silver drinks more coffee then he should

[moniquill]

One of the socialist things I’d like to see ALONG WITH UBI (not instead of) is a government option for all basic neccesities. I am aware that the government option would -suck- and as long as it’s survivably functional, I’m fine with that. When I was a kid, we got monthly commodity food boxes. They’d be filled with food that looked like this:

And in lean months, it would be that and whatever we could get from the garden, or forage/fish, or trade with friends and neighbors. My mom had this awesome recipe for peanut butter balls that utilized the powdered milk, shit-quality peanut butter, and maple-flavored corn syrup that we routinely got in our box and actually made it good. 

I think that these things should be available for purchase at every supermarket, and that the prices should be fixed with relation to the minimum wage. All brands should have to compete with the government option - if SPAM is going to be more expensive than LUNCHEON MEAT in the silver can, then it needs to justify that cost by being better quality.

I want the same thing for housing. I want fucking Commie Blocks to be an option.

This would combat runaway inflation by putting a price cap on survival needs. It would guard against shrinkflation, because a consumers could compare the Government Standard portion to the brands. UBI ought to be such that it covers The Government Option for food, housing, clothing, transit etc. with generous wiggle room for emergency savings and little joys in life. 

Everyone should get their own UBI account in their own name at birth, along with their social security number. It should follow the individual regardless of guardianship. Parents/guardians should have incrementally less and less control over said funds as the child gets older, and should have to provide itemized receipts of how money taken from a child’s account is spent (Similar to what you have to do if you’re in control of an elder’s social security money).

https://www.ssa.gov/ssi/text-repayee-ussi.htm

'Each year, we will ask certain representative payees to complete a Representative Payee Accounting Report showing how they spent and saved the money they received for you during the 12-month report period.'

These are steps that would could easily institute tomorrow be reallocating funding, and they’d have a huge impact on cost of living for everyone.  

This rant brought to you by the fact that store brand canned luncheon meat in my local grocery held fast at a dollar for the better part of two decades but now costs $2.18.

[askwhatsforlunch]

Maple Pear Yoghurt

This delicious Maple Pear Yoghurt, with its beautiful contrast between the soft, warm, buttery pear and the cool, thick, creamy yoghurt, make both a satisfying breakfast or mid-afternoon snack. You can even have it as a dessert! Happy Monday!

Ingredients (serves 1):

1/2 tablespoon silvered almonds

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

a large, just ripe pear, rinsed

1 tablespoon pure (Grade A) Canadian Maple Syrup

1/2 cup thick Greek Yoghurt

In a medium frying pan, toast silvered almonds over a high flame until golden brown and fragrant. Transfer to a small plate; set aside.

Return the pan over the flame, reduce heat to medium-high, and melt butter in the pan.

Halve and core pear, and cut it into slices.

Once the butter is just foaming, add pear slices to the pan, and cook, until softened and golden brown, about 5 to 7 minutes, flipping the pear slices over halfway through cooking. Drizzle with half of the Maple Syrup. Cook, 1 minute more. Remove from the heat.

Spoon Greek Yoghurt into serving bowl. Top with warm Maple pear slices, and sprinkle with toasted silvered almonds. Drizzle with remaining Maple Syrup.

Enjoy Maple Pear Yoghurt immediately.

[veganslut420]

young the giant concert was so good so good so good I’m gpnna cry myself to sleep

[yanderenightmare]

All For One

TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, captive reader, mind deterioration

fem reader

All For One has a habit of subjugating you for his own pleasure. 

It’s a game he likes to play—quite like chess, only… you start off with a single pawn, and you don’t know any of the rules. And he’s been world champion ten years in a row. And he plays dirty.

Tonight, he’s dressed you up in a costume. Not any old Halloween costume, but a slutty one. Not a playboy bunny or a maid, nor a schoolgirl—this was worse—a sleazy rendition of your old hero uniform.

You’d barely recognized the faintly familiar design when he first laid it out on the bed for you. Silly and naïve, you thought his games of derision would end when you finally offered your submission, but that was a fool’s thought. What fun were you if not proof of his undying victory—a reminder, a trophy, a relic?

It’s beyond degrading. Tight and revealing. Less than an actual costume, it was more something one would wear in the bedroom, cosplaying for some fantasy starring an overly sexualized you. Only God knows where he’d gotten it from.

Your steel armor, once with the dignity of a knight, had instead been swapped out for a silly silver bikini—the shimmery fabric tacky and cheap, allowing your nipples to peak forth. Covering it was a top and a skirt made up of silver chains, which only further mocked the appearance of chainmail—looking more like the jewelry a stripper might wear.

He’d forgone your helmet, boots, and sword entirely. Truly, if it weren’t for the detailing of the pattern making the fabric vaguely resemble plated armor, it wouldn’t have been much different from any other set of lingerie.

And still, it’s just similar enough to make it sting.

“Look at you...” he jeers, his voice sodden with taunt—carmine stare faded and gleeful, thoroughly enjoying it. “What a sight for sore eyes.”

He stands behind you in the mirror, holding you delicately by the hips, intimately close, dressed in another one of his black suits, fully clothed in devastating contrast to you. His smile curls as he roams your ill-covered body, kissed with the flush of chagrin, leering at you in the reflection—his voice slithering right by your ear.

“Though I can’t say I remember it being quite so revealing, can you?” he jokes, running his hands up and down your waist, fiddling some with the intricacies—metal daintily clinking and clangoring. “No, there’s something else that’s different...”

You feel so humiliated, so small—as if he could hold you up by the scruff of your neck with ease. It isn’t just a feeling—you’re well aware that he most likely could.

“Why yes, of course…” he hums with delayed realization—you know he’s faking for anticipation, chittering while wrapping his thick arms around your tiny midsection, giving you a firm squeeze. “You’ve lost all muscle.”

It’s a painful truth. You don’t know how many months it’s been. Perhaps a year has passed already, maybe even more. He keeps you well aware of his triumph in the outside world, but time still eludes you.

You’d tried maintaining it in the beginning, even after he’d taken your quirk. You’d been vigilant, keeping up your workout regimens just as religiously as before. But you couldn’t pick what you ate, nor when—and he’d only feed you cake. It wasn’t long before all your hard-earned muscles had melted away like popsicle syrup off the stick, licked and lapped right up by the man holding you.

“Mmh, yes…” he murmurs gratingly while swaying you back against him, lips pressing against your ear. “And it’s left you oh-so-soft.”

His bulbous crotch slots against your upper ass, resting there as it grows fatter and warm—a sign of his enjoyment. The weight of him makes you feel all but paper-thin.

His voice rasps now. “If I were to give you your quirk back, I wager you wouldn’t even be able to use it anymore—it would sooner rip your poor limbs apart.”

It’s beyond cruel to suggest—as if disgracing your old costume wasn’t enough torment already. You bite your lip, gnaw it harshly—don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t let him see you cry.

“Isn’t that just fascinating?” He gives your earlobe a gentle bite, and the whimper in your throat springs free like prey out of hiding.

A sniffle shortly followed—along the dribble of the night’s very first tears. Your diminished spirit has made you all too prone to cry as if there’s nothing else for you to do but indulge in the small comfort it gives.

“Oh, sweetie—don’t weep over prowess long since lost. It was never enough to challenge me anyway,” he coos, as if consoling you—swaying your smaller brittle body back against his looming chest, a cage that seemed to swallow you whole.

Steering your jaw, he holds your face still before the mirror, unable to look away as the tears dribble down your sorry cheeks—he smears them further with a kiss.

“The world would chew you up as you are now, fragile like glass.” The grin curling his lips makes you resemble prey caught on a predator’s teeth—you can’t help but shiver at the sight of it. You wish he wouldn’t toy with you like food and just kill you already. “Mark my words, hero—the belly of the beast would not grant you as much comfort as I do.”

His other hand slips down to cup your mound—firmly, with a squeeze that has you curl yourself back against him as he presses two tough fingerpads into your clothed clit, rubbing it tightly enough to make your thighs shake.

“You’re better off like this,” he grunts, snickers at how your weak hands clutch the sleeve of his suit, curling the fabric in your palms until your knuckles whiten—watching the furrow further crease between your cinched brows as you try and bite back your pathetic little sounds even as more tears come tumbling down your swollen cheeks. “Mh, my pretty plaything.”

He makes you continue to look at yourself as he simply slides the panty to the side of your cunt. Encouraging you to place your hands flat against the mirror as he bends you forward, then to step back and stand atop his dress shoes.

“Don’t be shy now,” he makes sure to tell you. “You’re as light and negligible as a feather.”

He parts his feet and yours along with them, spreading your thighs enough to accommodate the fat heat he soon slides between them. Rigid and veiny, it competes with the size of your forearm—so thick that when he slaps it up against your slit, your knees buckle from the impact.

His chuckles rumble across your body like an earthquake. You only realize how much it makes you shake when he encloses your hip in his big hand, steadying you. Holding you still as he drags his engorged cockhead through your lips, catching your clit before resting on your entrance.

You’re so sore from prior nights—countless hours locked in this room with his visits the only thing keeping you company—everything has yet to forgive you for the wreckage those visits leave behind. Your sorry little puss rues and dreads another defeat now as he sinks inside the comfort of your battered walls, one unyielding inch at a time. 

You wince and tense, shoulders bracing, and yet he pushes deeper, sliding you down his shaft until you rest at the hilt of his base, kneading the tip into your gummy womb, giving it a deep kiss that bulges out from your poor belly.

The sight in the mirror is morbid, even more so than the feeling—the way he molds your insides to fit him, to cater and house his length and size. 

“Ah—just perfect, isn’t it, hero?” he purrs, chest resting heavily upon your spine while dwarfing both your hips in a firm grip, chin-stubble scraping along your neck as his voice comes out hot against your ear, “Obedience suits you so well, don’t you agree?”

Your knees buckle once he starts the heavy pace—slowly pounding into you from behind, dragging out and pushing deep in womb-robbing thrusts. You pant from the toll of it, feeling your muscles give—too tired and too broken to continue acting tough. He’s the only reason you’re left upright on your feet—keeping you standing with just his hold on your haunches. It seems like nothing to him, though it feels like the weight of the world to you.

“It’s only a shame it had to come with all these scars.” He clicks his tongue, eyes raking across your body as it takes him, resting on each mark disrupting the otherwise milk-smooth skin. “If only you’d accepted your place sooner.”

The ember burning within you is all but a piece of cooling charcoal now. You feel it diminish every day, leaving you even thinner than before.

“But then again, I quite enjoy you like this—littered with my battle scars from your toes up to your crown. It’s rather intimate, isn’t it?” he hums with a smile. “Proof of all the times I could’ve quashed you beneath my foot like a pitiful bug but decided to spare you. Teach you how to worship like the weak ought to.”

There was a time when you still humored the thought of killing him, even with your quirk taken from you. You thought, in your foolishness, that being this close to him must garner an opportunity, any, however slim, just enough for you to take advantage and finish what you vowed to end so long ago.

Now, you almost don’t care anymore. The world had moved on without you, and there was nothing more you could do about it.

You realize your promise had been as cheap as this outfit.

“The greater the fall, the sweeter the surrender, isn’t that right?” he states. “Doesn’t it feel good to finally accept your place in the world, hero?”

You can only nod your head and agree.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[venuiscmind]

Bartender!Ellie & Co-Worker!Ellie <3.

Just some headcannons for the 3-5 part series im cooking up since I finally have time to write!!! Please show some love for this as it will really motivate me to write more for this. Smut below!

read this.

w.c 1.1k

Bartender! Ellie who has you stunned the first day you see her in her all black, tight, fitted uniform. Sleeves rolled up to her veiny, tattooed forearms, dripping with the syrup from the cocktails she was shaking over her shoulders. Dark, black pants that fit her legs perfectly as she moves around the bar.

Bartender! Ellie who keeps her eyes fixed on you while you bend down to hear a customer's order in the busy and loud bar. You turn feeling eyes on you but only see Ellie turning back to pour a drink for a customer.

Bartender! Ellie who gradually opens the buttons of her black shirt during her shift when it gets too hot, showing off the pale but flushed and sweaty skin underneath, adorned with glinting silver chains.

Bartender! Ellie who flirts back with all the pretty girls who press themselves against the bar trying to give her their number. (She throws them out after every shift because they’re lacking something she can't place).

Bartender! Ellie who is immediately in the face of a man who has stepped a little too close to you and has gotten too loud and rude for her liking.

Bartender! Ellie who drives a pretty, sleek car to work and is constantly offering you rides to and from work because you shouldn't have to worry about driving yourself.

Bartender! Ellie who keeps you up till 5am after your shift texting you about anything and everything she could think of to keep you talking, all because she liked hearing you talk.

Bartender! Ellie who pull off her shirt over her head and immediately sinks against the heat of the shower but can't get you out of her head for some reason.

Bartender! Ellie who is constantly offering to make you drinks after your shift when the bar has been closed down, leaving only the two of you to lock up together.

Bartender! Ellie who has to keep her eyes focused on pouring your drink instead of looking at the curves of your form sitting up on the top of the dark marble counter. Her heart (and other places) flutter seeing you like this.

Bartender! Ellie who's tattoo flexes while she clenches her fists when you're not looking, trying to keep herself grounded while she watches your legs cross atop the bar, something she would never be able to catch if she hadn't secretely swapped shifts to be able to lock up with you.

Bartender! Ellie who takes off her apron and button up shirt to change into a loose dark hoodie that makes you swallow hard. She pulls up her hood letting loose tendrils of hair fall out of it before manspreading and turning her keys in the ignition.

Bartender! Ellie who keeps on the silver rings she wears during her shift to clench the steering wheel as she speeds into your neighbourhood blaring music with the windows open at 4am after work. (She later swears she wasn't even driving that fast).

Bartender! Ellie who has to take a breath when you invite her into your house which is impossibly tidy and she actually offers to take off her shoes because of this.

Bartender! Ellie who has to hold back her questions of whether she can marry you or not when you offer her glasses of water and bits of food you can scrounge up for her.

Bartender! Ellie who stares at you, feeling her pupils dilate and her breathing turn rough just looking at you standing in your kitchen.

Bartender! Ellie who stands up and hooks her arms around your middle and rests her head on your shoulder as you do the dishes at 5am.

Bartender! Ellie who begs you to "please tell me I'm not the only one who feels like this because I can't keep ignoring this because fu-".

Bartender! Ellie who is shocked when you turn around to put her face in your hands and smile at her, inches from her face, stroking lovingly. When she slowly moves forward you pull back an inch wanting to savour this look on her face, basking in the mutual desire that you both felt.

Bartender! Ellie who whispers " are you sure"? against your lips with her green eyes boring into your own. You nod, and murmur "Yes ellie, I've been sure for weeks" and press your soft lips into her soft and slightly chapped lips.

Bartender! Ellie who has to move her hands from your hips to the counter to steady herself once she allows herself to give into the sensation of kissing you. She can't think with her hand and mouth full of you, and only you.

Bartender! Ellie who pulls back and finds herself being pulled into your bedroom, your fingers interlaced with hers, never leaving her seperated from you again.

Bartender! Ellie who sits back on your bed, watching in awe of the woman before her, as you strip off your work shirt and pants, leaving you in your soft underwear in the light of dawn, peaking through your curtains.

Bartender! Ellie who grips your hips like her life depends on it when you climb into her lap and lies back against the sheets, face and skin turning pink as you press yourself against her toned body.

Bartender! Ellie who lets you strip her down in kind and lets you kiss down between her tits, pawing at them as you press your lips against the soaked spot on her black boxers. She has to remember to breathe when you pull them down leaving her in nothing.

Bartender! Ellie who feels exposed and vulnerable, shaking underneath you while you lick and slurp against her soaked pussy, tasting her like she was the sweetest thing in the world.

Bartender! Ellie who groans out "oh fuck me, right there"- and holds your head gently against her clit when you suck on that spot that has her arching off the bed, her eyes rolling back into her skull. She wraps her legs around your head and shoulders and begs, actually begs you not to stop because she is so fucking close to cumming all over your tongue.

Bartender! Ellie who forgets to breathe again when she feels your fingers press against her slicked and soaked entrance and push into her causing her to melt, shake and press against you to push them deeper inside of her.

Bartender! Ellie who cums when you suck just at the right time with your fingers pushing in and out of her, hitting that sweet spot in her over and over.

Bartender! Ellie who pulls you up by then chin to kiss you, and taste herself fom your mouth and brings your hand up to your lips to taste her again. She then kisses you deeper than you had ever been kissed, tongue invanding your senses until all you can think of is her and her only.

LOL i actually got so horny writing this but hope you enjoyed!!! more to come very soon i promise <;3. - Venuis!

Btw asks and submissions are open so give me some inspo plsplspls xxxx

[victusinveritas]

Canadian weightlifter Maude Charron drinking Canadian Maple Syrup before winning silver at the Paris Olympics, August 2024

[monarchberrysblog]

Hmo but

What if Miguel finds out you used to date the Harry Osborn from your world? You and Harry used to date but broke up on friendly terms but then you meet sometime where Miguel’s visiting your world for a date, and then his possessive instinct is like: She’s mine 😏

Then ✨smut✨ and ofc he has a marking kink

INTERLINKED

credit to @r3ds_art_ on Twitter and Instagram!

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭

✮ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: possessive (adj.) → demanding someone’s total attention and love. having the knowledge that you used to be with someone left a sour taste in miguel’s mouth. especially knowing that you are still in good terms with them to this day.

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: biting kink? (idk what it’s called), cumplay (?), unprotective p-in-v, semi-exhibitionism (y'all get caught), possessive behavior (kinda?)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +1.7k words

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: mwehehehe (once again, if there are errors i apologize in advance as i felt like i read this multiple times and don't see any errors) enjoy!

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 | 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃

Harry was your first love. Something so fleeing that if you were to blink or glance at it, it disappeared instantly. It blurred into your life the way acrylic colors blended to create a clash of colors like a summer evening in July. It was all tangy and sweet, with a scalding, sweaty undertone. Beautiful yet uncomfortable to endure.

He was sweet, resembling a sweet syrup in any refresher you would get in a coffee shop. Sweet, yet messy. The sap wasn't noticeable until it became unbearable to have in between your fingers.

Enduring the sappy-like texture on the tip of your fingers, wiping the mess clean from your skin, bonding with Henry became inevitable. You didn't want to let him go, but it was for the better for each other.

But after growing out of each other, things ended with a silver lining—growing and learning within a long distance from each other.

Then, you met Miguel.

Another man from another dimension.

Meeting someone from another world was not on your bucket list, let alone in the span of goals you had for the next few years or so. But Miguel managed to tergiversate his way into your plans (and heart). He fit right into your life like a puzzle piece you didn't know was missing.

And you love it.

/

“Is your dish okay? Because if it isn't, I can send it back and—” You fade his rambles with a gentle touch on his hand. “Yes, it's perfect Migs. Thank you.” The sound of cutlery clicking on the white ceramic plates complimented the ambiance of the warm-lit dining area.

Small chatter created a cozy environment that made anyone lull to sleep. “And please, don't yell at the chef like last time.” You forcefully giggle and can almost imagine the events playing out like a storyboard.

“They didn't give you the grilled chicken fillet.” He grumbles, looking away from his dish and to the side, keeping his gaze on the maroon carpet. “Hey,” You gently cupped his cheek, disregarding your silverware. “It’s okay. Sometimes, we make mistakes on off days. It's nothing new.”

“I know,” He pouts. “I just want you to have a warm meal.”

“And I'm grateful for your well-being. Just don't yell at the chef and make them cry again. Please.” You plead, gently rubbing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “…okay.” He grumbles in defeat, taking your hand away from his face and gently holding your hand with a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t.”

/

You worked on your dish, taking in pasta forkfuls and grilled chicken. Miguel keeps a close eye while eating his dish, savoring his fillet mignon. You basked in the silence, probably in your little world while with him. But a single greeting broke the mellow silence. “Hey,”

It wasn't just a simple “Hey” to get someone’s attention. Instead, it was an exasperated one. The exhale is a sign of relief—the relief of seeing someone familiar after a long period of time. A sigh that read, “Oh, it's been a while; I missed seeing you..”

Miguel’s head turned for him without his brain enabling his thought process. “Oh, hey, Harry.” You smile, showing off your little dimples to him. “What brings you here?” Harry makes his way over to the two of you, unaware of the daggers that Miguel was throwing at him. “I’m here with Miguel. My boyfriend.”

Harry turns his attention to your aggravated partner, oblivious to the aura Miguel sent. “Already moved on? That was fast.”

Not an amusing joke, even for Harry. He lets out a forced laugh, hoping to drown out the awkward air around them—it only made it more suffocating to be in that bubble. “It's been a couple of years.” You laughed, trying to ease the unsteady environment. But it was laughable beyond that point.

While exchanging words, Harry’s wavering eyes remained on you, taking in every feature about you. “You work here?” You ask as you look up at Harry. “As a server only.”

Your smile, cute dimples, everything caught Harry’s attention. It felt like he was looking at the playing field and wondering if he was about to get to second base. The conversation dragged like a snail, going slowly for Miguel.

“But it was nice seeing you.” The only best solution was stepping on the awkward waters rising as Harry nodded and sighed. “Yes, it was nice seeing you too. But let me know if you guys need anything.” With a simple nod, he walks off almost in a rushed manner.

/

“Jesus.” Miguel was now away from the warm dining area of the restaurant and now in the men’s room. He stood in the handicap stall momentarily, burying his face into his palms. The last thing he needed to happen was for you to lecture him on his behavior, especially now that Harry had dropped by unannounced.

“You’re exaggerating, you're exaggerating.” He repeats the mantra, sounding like a possessed man. If anyone were to walk in, some eye brows would have been raised. But after repeating the phrase a couple more times, he stops and rubs his eyes, much to his doctor's dismay about the habit.

“It's fine.” He thinks, reaching for the stall door to step out. But the sound of a familiar voice and a different voice enter the washroom. “Who was that woman who you greeted earlier?”

“An ex,” Harry states matter of factly.

“You miss her, don't you?” The other voice inquires as if they anticipated drama. “I've seen the way you look at her.” The other voice adds. “Yeah, but just as friends! It's been a while since we last spoke.”

A little, just a little?

“But she's with someone else.” Harry stumbles his words, attempting to redeem his words.

“And you don't seem okay with that.” A lingering silence suffocates space immediately. A sigh from Harry fills the space, shattering the awkwardness.

“I'm okay with it. I just miss her company.”

The corner of Miguel’s lip subtly twitches, a sign of irritation. He waits, waiting for the two men to finish their discussion. It wasn't until ten minutes later that they finally left. Almost as if he were following behind, Miguel steps out of the stall silently, feeling his senses get overwhelmed with his typical possessive return once again.

/

“Keep it down for me, bebe. Can you do that for me?” He bites down on your neck and nibbles on your skin. The flat of his tongue lathers against the bite crevices, soothing the dull, aching pain. “Your canines…” Your comment fell silent before his lips kissed the now red mark against your flesh before his hands worked quickly to raise the hem of your skirt. “Shhh, we don't need to get kicked out, do we?” He whispers. The family bathroom immediately got filled with scuffles and moving around of clothes. His ring and pointer finger ghost at your clothed cunt, dragging the tips of his fingers down your entrance, feeling the dampness.

“I just bit you, and you’re all riled up? Pobrecita.” He pouts to you and slowly moves the gusset of your underwear to the side gently with a tug. “Just keep it down for me, okay? Can you do that for me?” His gentle movements drew out soft whines and moans from your mouth like word vomit while his fingers traced your entrance, drawing out your glistening arousal.

"Just be quiet for me," he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, helping himself to another bite of your soft skin. He follows his fingers, delving into your fluttering wall, eagerly taking his fingers in. "Shhh..." The sound of wet, sticky gushes fills the family room bathroom, with your mess dripping down onto the floor and occasionally on the bathroom wall.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, occasionally feeling his two fingers curl slightly. You bit down on your bottom lip, humming out your pleasure to the rhythm of his finger moving in and out.

"Don't make a mess, I don't want you to ruin my watch."

The soft thrusting of his fingers moved rapidly, pulling his fingers out completely before shoving his fingers back into your needy pussy. The rapid thrusts became too much, releasing your mess along with your cum all over the floor before you. "Ay, ya te dije." He pulls his fingers out, shaking his hand dry and lifting you up on the sink counter. "I told you to not make a mess." He put a resting finger against your fluttering core, lightly pushing down to soothe the stretch.

"Spread for me a bit, nena." He whispers and grasps onto your thighs, helping you. You could already imagine the mess you left behind the counter, leaving a glistening mess on the marble. You open up for him with a meek "Okay." You feel your legs trembling against the cold marble. You watch on as Miguel hurries to take off his pants, shoving the pants down quickly and dragging you close to his aching member.

A soft moan escaped your lips, feeling his length rub against your core and clit, lightly thrusting his length in between your entrance. "Let me just prepare myself," He whispers, slowly collecting your slick against his length. You let out a whine before you let out a moan, feeling his tip occasionally slip in between your folds. He thrusted his tip in a couple more times before he continued to grind his length against your clit.

“There we go. Let’s get you comfortable.” He whispers into your ear before he slowly pushes himself in, earning a loud moan from you. He immediately covered your mouth, muffling your beautiful sounds.

“Shh, be good and keep it down.” He whispers while gently pushing his tip against your cervix, occasionally earning a soft cry in pain. You felt him slowly pull out and keep a gentle pace. “Is that better, nena?” He croons into your ear. He grinds his length into you, trying to keep your moans and mews at a limit.

“So good, cariño.” He whispers. “Come on, hold on for a while.” His fingers trace the soft red marks on your neck, putting pressure to soothe the pain.

“I want us to be in here for a moment.”

/

The two of y'all rushed out of the bathroom, getting chased out of the restaurant by two servers. “And get out of here! Never come back!” They yell out as soon as the two of you scurry out while adjusting your clothes. You exchanged breathy laughs with each other when you felt the cold air nip at your skin.

“I told you to keep it down.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

birthday proposal | s.r. x fem!reader 2.3K

“okay, you ready to surprise daddy?” whispering to your little girl outside your bedroom door as you held onto a tray filled with breakfast food.

little annabeth’s hair was a bed head mess of curls as she nodded excitedly. her unicorn pajamas were a bit messed up, one pant leg tugged to her knee and her shirt had a syrup stain from helping in the kitchen, but you didn’t mind.

“be careful when you climb into bed, we don’t want to hurt him,” remaining the little one before pushing the silver door handle down and swinging it open.

annabeth rushed inside and climbed into the bed using the stepstool at the foot, her body slightly wobbling as the mattress sank under her feet before dropping to her knees and falling into spencer’s side.

he was facing your side of the bed, one arm stretched outward to your empty space then curling into your daughter’s small body. spencer inhaled deeply and groaned before slowly blinking his eyes open, lashes sticking together for a moment. his lips turned into a smile at the sight of annabeth staring into his eyes.

“good morning, bethie.” his voice thick from sleep as he shifted to lay on his back and pull annabeth onto his chest. he pecked many kisses upon her chubby cheeks and she high pitched giggled at the attack.

the snap of your phone drew spencer’s attention, “hi sweetheart.” staring at you lovingly while rubbing bethie’s back. you made quick work to change the new photo as your lock screen wallpaper then focused your attention back to your homemade breakfast.

“happy birthday, doctor spencer reid. whipped up some french toast and chocolate waffles paired with your sugar filled coffee. and our little bethie here suggested a lovely chocolate donut to celebrate. welcome to twenty-six, handsome.”

carefully you leaned in to kiss his forehead but spencer moved his head and managed to catch your lips onto his. you smiled into the kiss causing it to be more teeth and giggles then lips and tongue.

“me! me!” annabeth’s hands touched your face and you pulled away to see her staring at you, a small pout on her tiny face. “you want a kissy as well?” she nodded.

you swooped her up, pressing her to your chest and kissing her cheeks like spencer did earlier. “oh my sweet girl. wanna give daddy your present?” whispering in her ear. she got jumpy so you set her down and she dashed into the hall.

“she’s really proud of the gift,” telling spencer as you sat down with the tray balanced over your lap. spencer shuffled slowly into a sitting position, sliding his glasses along his nose as he leaned against the headboard. his baggy sleep shirt sliding off one shoulder.

you pressed a quick kiss to the freckled skin, “what would you like to do today?” running your fingers along the side of his head, smoothing some of the lumps in his hair.

before spencer could answer, your daughter came rushing back into the room holding a sage green gift bag. instead of heading for the steps she held her arms out for spencer to lean over and pick her up. “oh you’re getting so big already. i’m gonna put you in carbonite soon.” setting her on his lap with her back leaning on him.

“your silly, daddy.” giggling as she started to pull a little flip book. “i made this during craft time.”

spencer’s head looked over her small shoulders and you watched the two as you took a bite of french toast, damn you were good.

“it’s about how you’re the worlds bestest and smartest daddy in the world. you get the bad people to save the good people.” showing stick figure drawings of people, annabeth pointing out members of the team and then showing two others that were holding hands with a red heart between their heads.

“that’s you and mommy.” turning her head to look at spencer, waiting for a reaction. spencer’s hand stopped rubbing her stomach and his face was still, annabeth’s expression wobbled.

“do- do you like it, daddy?” you could see her eyes getting wet and you were bracing for a tantrum. then you looked at spencer and saw his eyes were teary, he took a deep swallow causing his adam’s apple to bop.

“i- i love it, honey. it’s the best gift ever.” kissing the crown of her head, matching brown locks. she perked up at the positive answer then grabbed for the bag again, “oh! one- one more. from me and mommy.”

it was a small jewelry box, big in the hands of the four year old. spencer’s slim fingers took the white box and slowly opened the top, a silver heart pendant was sitting on the satin cushion.

“open it,” speaking softly while spencer let his index finger trail over the cool metal. his looked at you and you jerked your chin forward, he let his nail find the seam and easily opened the heart. inside was a photo of you and annabeth, faces squished together both wearing dazzling smiles.

“so we’ll be with you no matter what. and look,” pulling spencer’s attention to your neck. a matching necklace resting on your deglución, you popped it open to show him a picture with him and your daughter. both of them laying in bed with her head on his chest as spencer read her a book.

“oh my best girls,” spencer cooed.

you waved him off, only cause your throat was getting tight and you didn’t want there to be waterworks before the cold breakfast was gone. “okay, why don’t you eat while annabeth and i get things ready. i kinda already planned something, but it’s all for you.” taking your daughter and leaving spencer with a kiss.

with it being october and three days from halloween, you tried to think of two activities spencer enjoys the most. foreign films and just halloween in general, so you managed to snag tickets for a screening of nosferatu in its original german language. annabeth is good with spooky media, but you’ll still cover her eyes when it gets too intense.

having styled your hair and applied your everyday makeup, you dressed in a black button up mini dress with a white long sleeve under and black sheer thermal thighs on your legs. adding white leg warmers you wore a pair of mary jane’s on your feet, a burgundy cardigan for extra warmth. pairing accessories of scattered rings, a bracelet spencer bought for your first anniversary, your heart necklace with ghost shaped earrings, and a cherry red coach bag you gifted yourself after graduating college.

annabeth picked out bits of her outfit and you did the rest. she wanted to wear her denim overalls so you pulled a black and orange striped long sleeve to wear underneath. she picked a pair of black converse and you knew spencer was gonna grab his own pair today, you made sure to bring a thick jacket for when the wind starts to pick up. you added small barrettes to pin some of her hair back for the finishing touch.

“you are so beautiful! just like mommy.”

you looked up to see spencer dressed and holding the empty breakfast tray. loose denim jeans hit his black converse, he wore a simple black t-shirt under a brown fuzzy zip up cardigan. his hair was a bit more styled but still held that shaggy appearance and he kept his glasses instead of switching to his contacts.

“oh you are just so handsome!” greeting him halfway, hands falling to his belt loops. “i could just eat you up,” only giving him a quick cheek kiss. needing to restrain yourself with your daughter around.

“are we all already for our big day?” mostly talking to your daughter as you buttoned up her jacket, giving a small tug to make sure it was secure.

she smiled widely, “yeah! movie day!” throwing her arms in the air. you copied her enthusiasm, “spooky movie!”

spencer bent behind your daughter and wrapped his long arms around her body, twisting her around so she can hold onto his neck and he can hold under her bottom. “will you be okay watching something scary? we don’t want you getting bad dreams.” hiking her up a little higher. her little legs swung, “you’ll chase them away for me.” tucking her head into his neck after her reply.

spencer sweetly pressed a kiss to her temple as he rubbed her back, “you’ll always be safe with me.”

“alright my pretties, off we go!” ushering your trio out into the world and towards the subway station. annabeth was used to the noise and fast pace of the crowded station, the train cars swaying kept her in a comfortable nap for the twenty minute ride to your destination.

“do you have any place in mind for dinner? i could always make something but i baked a cake and that breakfast took all my good mojo from me.” chatting beside spencer as the three of you stood outside the old theater, a long line of people holding their tickets out.

annabeth was still snuggled into spencer and you had your arms threaded through his elbow as you rested on his bicep. “why don’t we go to that one diner? there’s that older waitress that loves bethie, we haven’t seen her in a while.”

you smiled, “sounds like a plan.”

when the movie was playing spencer mostly translated for annabeth and you mostly just watched him, not caring about the black and white vampire movie. your boyfriend and daughter were the best people in your world, you could watch them for hours and never grow tired of their similar personalities.

she was still young, but you could tell her brain was slowly developing into one like spencer’s. her preschool teachers say she’s different to the other kids. and you take pride in that, not the concerned way most people expect.

walking down the street, both of you on each side of your little girl, her smaller hands in your larger hands annabeth was talking about a friend of hers. spencer stayed engaged, nodding and humming or asking questions about her favorite lunch snack. you only spoke when either talked directly to you, their voices warming your heart.

“ms. sanchez!” annabeth yelled in the mildly busy diner. the older lady turned to the entrance, smiled then walked away from the counter with her arms open. “oh! little annie, it’s been too long.”

spencer helped bring his daughter in the ladies hug, both of them smiled brightly and hugged onto each other familiarly. annabeth pointed at spencer, “it’s my daddy’s birthday!” she’s been telling many people that today, spencer’s been rosy cheeked from all the attention.

ms. sanchez gasped, “well happy birthday, mr. reid. let’s get the three of you a booth in the back.” little annabeth squealed in joy at the mention of a booth.

you got a sandwich, spencer a salad, and annabeth a child’s burger meal. you kept sneaking fries from her plate, you know she wouldn’t finish them anyway. ms. sanchez came back to your booth with a chocolate brownie topped with vanilla ice cream when coming to pick up your plates.

“dinner is on me,” the older lady insisted when spencer kept reassuring her that it wasn't needed. “for my best customers,” she said when carrying away her dish bin.

“give this to ms. sanchez. and flash your eyes, don't take no for an answer,” pulling a hundred dollar bill from your wallet and rolling it into annabeth’s baby fist. she scurried towards the bar top and called out her name, she tried placing the bill in her apron, but she was a bit too short.

you saw ms. sanchez’s reaction and how she tried pushing her away but then she took a deep sigh, stuffed the bill away and bent down to hug your daughter.

“ms. sanchez said she’s angry with both of you,” annabeth pouted as spencer carried her back to the train station. you both chuckled, “she meant it teasingly, honey. if she didn’t sound upset it was a joke.” spencer reassured her.

the sun had set and the temperature dropped with it, spencer held annabeth close. he kept a hand pressed to her neck so she slept soundly for the trek home, you pressed a kiss to her head when at a crosswalk.

“did you enjoy your birthday?” looking over to spencer as you both waited for your train to pull in. he kept a slight bounce to his hold, “best birthday ever.” he confirmed and smiled dreamily at you.

“i got a surprise for you at home,” making quick mention of it a block from the apartment. you furrowed your brows at that, “surprise? why do i get one and how’d you manage one when you’ve been gone all day?” taking the cobble steps slowly to not shake them.

“i’ve had it hidden away for a while, now felt like the right time.” staying mysterious as spencer walked down the hall to annabeth’s bedroom first and then you heard him walking around before coming back to the living room where you sat waiting on the worn suede couch.

spencer kept his hands behind his back, “whatcha hiding, mister?” stretching out an arm to grasp onto the hem of his shirt and tug him closer. you looked up at him, big open eyes watching as he licked his lips. you kissed his clothed abdomen, “you okay?” concerned at his quiet nature.

he moved his arms in front of him and held a black velvet jewelry box, your eyes watching as he snapped it open to reveal a pastel pink gemstone sitting on a silver band. you couldn’t help your gasp.

“will you marry me?” voice meek and uncertain. spencer was nervous, and you were too quiet.

you stood from the couch and cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer until you were a breath away to answer, “always.”

[silversupremacy]

daily? silver spoon - day 9

Sorry no good post today cause I went to get beignets at the donut shop and they were CLOSED even tho it says they're OPEN DAILY how RUDE anyways yeah the silver in my brain is angy I wanted a nice treat.

[persicipen]

weapons ノ argenti

ৎ୭ — · · 0.5k ノ afab gn reader — written for @ficsforgaza kinktober ノ praise . compliments . endearments ノ riding argenti’s spear . letting him hold you and guide you <3

You doubt you would let anyone else guide you through what you’re currently attempting to do. Not any mere amount of trust could sit you down on the marble-smooth handle of the spear; no armour to hide your body, not even a tunic or any clothes at all to shield you from the steel intrusion between your legs.

Only your skin. And desire.

“Such courage.” Argenti murmurs into your ear as he strokes the soft curve of your bottom with his hands, almost petting you. Crimson locks running in waves down his shoulders caress you like flowers in the wind. “Now, please, show me the spectacle — how beautiful you look whilst the pleasure engulfs you from the core.”

How you wished to melt into Argenti’s silver chest plate now, beyond what is rational and possible. Painfully aware of the polearm beneath you. When he tells you to lower yourself onto it and press between your legs, you are throbbing with excitement at the contact with the cold metal.

Say, this must feel so enthralling to find pleasure where others find defeat versus the shining knight. He did defeat you once before, after all.

What he took was your heart.

Your body shakes as you ease your hips down to glide gently back and forth, stimulating your folds. It is not as frightening as you thought it would be — steel on bare skin, a real weapon teasing your clit. The touch is far from soft, but you can get used to it. Sink into the warm ripples, guided by his praise, velvet compliments trickling down your silhouette until they reach your sweet spot.

A reward of a crystalline teardrop of arousal lazily getting smeared as you chase the higher satisfaction.

“You are doing so well,” Argenti whispers again.

Perfect, divine, beautiful…

“It is as if you were meant to be riding this spear.” His luscious lips wander to your neck, kissing there every curve and shiver as you take in a ragged breath. “You will be mine, dear one, and I am yours forever.”

Staying on his spear is so tempting that you cannot help but shift your weight forward, finding courage to move faster.

To please the knight, whose irises sparkle emerald green, devouring the image before him; if not for his fist gripping the weapon tighter, you would wonder if there’s really any effect setting his soul ablaze in this very moment.

Yet the thought does not linger, for there are other places on your body that need attention — to be soothed and stroked, fondled until they cry in happiness. Your hands find their way to Argenti’s — a place they know too well, a home for themselves and for you as well.

And so, your eyes shut in awe at the blissful sensation running through your nerves like rosy syrup as you slide against the metal, its shape too similar to what you would love to feel, but made of flesh and pulsating with arousal. No matter, you feel so high, delirious, you could believe the spear is his cock instead.

Euphoria shatters through you like an arrowhead tearing through armour. What used to be icy between your legs now stings like flames, the fever blooming from your core.

You wonder, is this the devotion to which he calls for? Beauty, yes? He finds you gorgeous, then. He grants you what he considers pure and divine.

A release.