#sprinkle lip balm

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Bonne Bell Ice Creamies in Pink Cocoa, Sugar Sprinkles, Cookie Dough and Fresh Strawberry Lipsmackers Lip Balm

early 2000s

Found on Ebay, user musicalmorningglory

[dekariosclan]

A Tav who, from the first moment they meet Gale, knows they could never be his equal. A Tav who is painfully aware that they are lacking in intelligence, but not wise enough to know how to improve it. A Tav who isn’t handsome, beautiful, or attractive. A Tav who doesn’t love their own body, the sound of their own voice, or the face that looks back at them from the mirror. A Tav who is kind and gentle with others, but not with themselves.

A Tav who cannot understand why Gale fell in love with them, much less why he was so eager to wed them. A Tav who now constantly asks themselves: How did they get so lucky as to be loved by this man?

They watch Gale with affection as he pours over tomes in their home in Waterdeep, night after night, breezing through ancient writings that they themselves know they would never be able to comprehend or follow. They love to listen to him talk, and nod with genuine interest as he tells them everything he’s discovered; not completely understanding, but only asking questions on the rare occasions when they truly cannot grasp what he’s trying to convey. They wonder if their stretches of silence secretly annoy Gale, or if their occasional questions do, but he never seems to be anything other than elated as they listen to him. How did they get so lucky as to be loved by this man?

At his request, they often join him at Blackstaff Academy for lunch. They watch as his colleagues engage him in scholarly discussions that they cannot participate in. They see the glances he gets from his more attractive colleagues, interest that goes beyond professional courtesy; yet he still breaks away as quickly as he can to whisk Tav off to the solitude of his office, sit down next to them, kiss them, ask them about their day. How did they get so lucky as to be loved by this man?

They greet him warmly when he arrives back home every evening. On the nights that Gale cooks, they love to watch him prepare meals, his hands as graceful and deft as when he’s casting spells. On the nights that they cook, they always feel a slight pang of anxiety, wondering if the simple meal they’ve prepared is good enough, but Gale showers them with compliments and cleans his plate every time. The stories Gale shares from the Academy over dinner are as interesting as they are amusing, making Tav laugh almost as much as the bad puns he sprinkles into the conversation like seasoning. They try their best to match his wit when they tell him about the events from their day, but they always feel that the stories they share are much less amusing or interesting than his, even though Gale listens with rapt attention to every word. How did they get so lucky as to be loved by this man?

One evening, as the sun dips slowly into the sea from their view on the balcony, Gale suddenly stops speaking. Tav looks up in surprise, as he’d been regaling them with discoveries from an ancient text he’d finished reading.

“Is everything alright, love?” They ask, their heart suddenly pounding as they see Gale staring at them intensely. He responds with a soft apology, and says that it just occurred to him that he has a question he needs to ask them. Most urgently.

The pounding of their heart now fades to a hollow echo, as they’re sure they know what he will ask: Why would a man of his talent and understanding continue to stay with someone as mediocre, unimpressive, and plain as they are?

…but instead, he takes both their hands in his, holding them gently but firmly, and gazes lovingly into their eyes. “I spend my days caught up in academic discussions, decisions and debates. I do enjoy it of course, for the most part, but…to come home to you, to be able to talk without being judged or spoken over, to have your calm attention, the balm of your quiet intellect and understanding…you are an oasis for my soul.” He smiles and lifts their hands to his lips, kissing them reverently. “I’ve read so many books, learned from the brightest scholars, and yet, I still cannot understand…how did I get so lucky as to be loved by you?”

[stardust-swan]

Aphrodite Rose Lip Oil 💋

Ingredients:

2tsp petroleum jelly

3 drops rose oil

1 drop collagen serum

2 drops argan oil (can replace with olive, jojoba or almond oil)

1/2 tsp coconut oil

1/4 tsp honey

Vitamin E capsule

2 drops vanilla essence for flavour (optional)

1/2tsp beeswax for added firmness (optional, use if you want a balm rather than an oil)

A sprinkle of body or edible glitter (optional)

Mix all ingredients together, slitting the vitamin E capsule open and squeezing the contents into the mix.

As you stir, say: "Lady Aphrodite, whose beauty glows, please make my lips as soft as the rose."

Put in an empty lip balm container (the one I used is from a travel sized set of empty cosmetics containers). It will be goopy at first, so put in the fridge until the coconut oil and petroleum jelly solidifies. If still goopy add more petroleum or 1/2tsp of beeswax. Apply morning and night for extra soft and rosy lips.

Coconut oil: moisturising, anti-inflammatory

Petroleum jelly: locks in moisture

Rose oil: heavily associated with Aphrodite, pleasant smell, soothing, adds a pink tint

Vanilla extract: adds flavour and scent

Argan oil: rich in vitamin E, fatty acids, moisturising

Collagen: improves elasticity and texture, moisturising

Honey: helps retain moisture, anti-inflammatory, adds sweetness, associated with Aphrodite

Vitamin E: antioxidant, healing, moisturising

Body glitter: sparkle ✨

[justnatoka]

Strawberry lip balm

Marko x Fem! Reader

A/n: Inspired by this headcanon by @slowlyoats. I found this prompt not long after reading their work and I started screaming! It was too perfect, I just had to write something for it!

Word count: 1.2k

Prompt: “Is that a new lip balm?”

Your lips are looking particularly soft this evening🤭

Marko was many things, but boring was definitely not one of them. Ever since you started you relationship many-many years ago, there has been not one dull moment you spent with him. The two of you always found something to spice things up, the little game you were currently playing being one of them. It was quite simple. Either one of you would pretend to be single and ready to mingle, eyeing up a potential victim who seems interested. It usually didn’t take much time to warm them up, both you and Marko being attractive as hell, and knowing how to use it to your advantage too. Just as it looked like you were taking the party elsewhere, the other one of you would swoop in, all gentle touches, suggestive hand placements and kisses on necks and cheeks.

You love seeing the surprise on their faces, how they quickly go from flirty and hopeful to confused and embarrassed. It gives you a rush. You also very much enjoy the lingering glances they still give you, wishing that they could be the ones feeling you up instead of your partner. You wondered before if you might be slightly voyeuristic in a sense, both you and Marko relishing the attention you get from people around you when you go heavy on the PDA. Sometimes, if your potential victim is not put off by it, you invite the poor soul for some fun time, only to devour them together.

It was your turn to be the bait. You made sure to look extra nice, dressing just a little bit suggestive and even sprinkling some perfume on yourself from the cheap, but nice smelling little bottle you snatched from one of your previous victims. You kissed Marko goodbye, then watched him disappear into the crown with the boys. But you knew he didn’t go far, you could feel his presence nearby through the unspoken connection your pack had, his gaze pleasantly prickling your skin as he watched your every move.

He liked to keep an eye on you when you played bait. He knew very well how some guys can get when they see an attractive woman, and even though he was well aware that you could take care of yourself – you didn’t hesitate to bite someone if they went too far –, he still liked to feel like he was guarding you. You sometimes jokingly called him your guard dog, and he never tried to deny it.

So here you were, making your way towards the stage, where you stopped just at the edge of the crowd, casually leaning on the railing to survey the people jumping around below. The band was pretty good, and you were bobbing your head, swaying your hips gently. You looked enticing, and you knew it. As you got more into it, you started rocking from side to side, running your hands through your hair. You were putting on a show, for your boyfriend’s watching eyes, but also for the people around you.

As you turned slightly to your left, you noticed a brunette guy. He was standing not too far from you, also at the edge of the crowd. His eyes kept continuously coming back to you, his gaze running over your curves, taking in your swaying moves. He was a tourist for sure. You’ve learned to easily pick them out of the crowd. It was a safer option then going after locals.

You sent him a seductive smile, and his stance instantly shifted. He looked a bit timid, but he smiled back. You had him right where you wanted him. Just as it looked like he will come to you, two arms sneaked around your waist from behind.

You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Marko. After decades spent together, you were very familiar with his touch. A pleasant chill run down your spine as you felt his breathe on your neck.

“Did you get impatient, handsome?” you turned around in his loose embrace to look him in the eye, resting your arms on his shoulders.

“I did. I mean, how could I keep my hands to myself when you’re looking like that?” You felt like he could eat you up right there as his gaze looked you up and down. Knowing him, you probably weren’t far from the truth.

You sent a sideway glance towards your prospective victim to make sure he was still there. He was. A satisfied smirk spread on your lips, and you sent him a cheeky wink. He was clearly less sure of himself than before, but was still willing to stay and see where this was going. It seemed like you had an easy dinner for the night.

When you turned back to your boyfriend, you noticed a change in his expression. He was staring at you through hooded eyes, his pupils all blown out, basically drowning out the color around them, making them enticingly darker. It was a look you knew well, your body reacting instantly, and as cliché as it sounds, the outside world seemed to slow around you.

Marko couldn’t help but stare at how plush your lips looked this evening, so perfectly kissable. He wasn’t sure what was different about them, but he wanted nothing more than to capture them between his, steal your breath away and devour you. He almost groaned when you playfully bit into your lower lip before your mouth started moving. It took his brain a second to register that you were talking to him.

“He’s still watching us.”

To be honest, he completely forgot about your little game by now, too focused on how delicious you looked tonight. A mischievous smirk brightened his face, transforming his features to practically devious.

“Let’s give him a show,” he breathed, before pulling you into him.

You sank into each other with ease, your lips moving in perfect sync together, tasting one another with fervor, hands tangling into hair and roaming over bodies with dangerous suggestivity. Marko was satisfied to discover that your lips did indeed feel just as soft as they looked, with an added sweetness that made you even more enticing.

“Is that a new lip balm?” he broke away panting.

“Yes, it’s strawberry,” you sighed, your lips already in search of his again.

“I love strawberry,” he groaned and pulled you back in for another kiss.

He gently nipped at your lower lip, and you granted him access, his tongue entering your mouth without hesitation. It was sloppy and hungry and hot and addicting. When his hands travelled south from your hips and took two handfuls of your ass, causing you to moan loud enough for heads to start turning, you finally decided to break away.

It was at that time, while trying to get your composure back together that you remembered why you were there in the first place. Head whipping around, the guy from before was nowhere to be seen. You got so tangled up with each other, your little game forgotten, that you didn’t even notice when he took off.

You looked at Marko with a huff.

“You scared him off.”

The shit-eating grin on his face was all the answer you needed.

“Good. Tonight I want to keep you all to myself.”

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[wicked-barbie]

Bittersweet Thereafter

Wicked: Elphaba Thropp x Glinda Upland (Gelphie my beloved)

Rating: Teen

WC: 1k 

Prompt: “For whatever it's worth, I still hope that you're good” -Savage by Watsky for @sweetspicybingo (Lyrical Bingo Collection)

Warnings: A brief mention of spicy times, angst, lyrics from the musical sprinkled throughout, MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MUSICAL, WLW

Summary: Glinda and Elphaba reflect upon their memories of the past

The flames were hot against Glinda’s skin as she watched the effigy burn, the one she had set fire to. Tears stung her eyes, and it took all her strength to suppress them. She swallowed the hard lump forming in her throat as she watched the fire consume the crude symbol of her once dear friend. No, she was more than that, wasn’t she? I loved her.

Goodness knows the Wicked die alone.

Glittery tears streamed down Glinda’s cheeks as she heaved for air. I failed you, Elphie. It was a failure that would forever weigh heavy on her heart, a blackness that would eat away inside of her. Part of her was ready to throw herself into the fire, to welcome death and be able to see Elphaba’s face again. She held her hand to the fire, letting it crackle and heat her skin as memories from her past flooded back. A crinkled moment lost in time.

A time when she was still Galinda Upland.

~~

Elphaba has the most beautiful smile. It lightst up her whole face, her dark eyes shining and crinkling as happiness took her over—her green fingertip skim across Galinda’s cheek, then over her roommate’s petal pink lips. The excitement of arriving in the Emerald City floods their veins and spills into their exteriors.

“Kiss me, Elphie,” Galinda crooned in her lilting voice.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Elphaba smiles before pressing her lips to Galinda’s.

The kiss was sweet at first, like sugar-dusted gumdrops that sent euphoria swimming through your body. Galinda’s saccharine giggles spill against Elphaba’s warm lips, vibrating down the green girl’s throat as she swallows the bubbly girl down. It grew into something more passionate, heated with a sharp tang, reminding Elphaba of the wine they shared at the Ozdust ballroom. Their tongues tangled together as Elphaba moves on top of Galinda, the seat creaking beneath them.

“I want more,” Galinda moans, and Elphaba has to choke back a laugh. Of course, she did. Galinda was never easily satisfied.

“You must be quiet then and discrete,” Elphaba warns because those two attributes that did not come easily to the blonde woman.

“I will do my best!” Galinda promises, gripping Elphie’s upper arm.

~~

Elphaba ran her thumb over the crinkles petals of the pink rose. She kept it pressed safely between the pages of her Grimmerie in remembrance of the dance that brought her and Glinda together as friends. She used to keep it under the brim of her hat; the one Glinda had convinced her was chic. The humiliation still stings when she recalls the dance and Glinda’s gentle touch as she wiped away the salty tears that spilled from Elphaba’s eyes, a soothing balm that seemed to heal the hurt inside her.

The rose has faded over time, no longer vibrant and plush but crinkled and greying around the edges. A reflection of their friendship. Oh, but it was more than that, was it not? 

Galinda’s mouth had been as sweet and soft as that rose petal.

~~

Galinda’s moans spill into Elphaba’s mouth as her fingers curve inside the blonde.

“Yes, Elphie, yes!” she squeals, her voice muffled as Elphie hit just the right spot inside her.

Her warmth tightens around Elphaba’s fingers, and wetness spills across the witch’s green fingers and soaked her. Galinda’s face flushes red and hot—an appealing color on her. Elphaba’s dark eyes flits over to the man across from them, blissfully asleep and unaware, and the air held a certain thrill from getting away with such a lewd act in public.

Galinda tucks her petite frame against Elphaba’s side, curling against her as her heart wrestled with feelings she had long denied herself. The obsession with Fiyero and the constant flirting all tools used to bury the truth. The words brimmed on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say them. Not yet.

Don’t wish, don’t start. Wishing only wounds the heart.

~~

The wickedest witch there ever was. The enemy of all of us here in Oz is dead!

“Oh, Elphie,” Glinda sobbed, her mourning drowned out by the cheering of the crowd.

The smoke irritated her nose, and she was thankful to use this as an excuse for her tears. None of them would understand. She was to blame. She created this persona, betraying her best friend, the woman she loved. And for what? For pretend power. To be the one admired and adulated when Elphie was the one with the actual gift, with true magic.

“Please forgive me,” she whimpered, knowing she doesn’t deserve it.

~~

Elphie is warm, and Galinda loves how their bodies fit together. She doesn’t ever want to return to Shiz or Frottica or marry Fiyero. She wants to stay in the Emerald City forever with Elphie.

“I don’t ever want to leave,” Galinda whispers, with wide eyes as she grips Elphie’s hand as they take in the sprawling Emerald City.

“Me either,” Elphaba laughs, squeezing Galinda’s hand as they begin their exploration.

~~

Elphaba tore the petals one by one, letting the wind carry them away. The past was behind her; it was no use going back or imagining what might have been because it didn’t matter. She heard Fiyero rustle behind her as the wind picked up the woods. He was kind enough; he was good enough. He was that boy, but he could never be that girl. She watched the faded rose petals become swallowed up by the graying sky as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

Because I knew you…I have been changed for good.

“Hold out, my sweet, for whatever it’s worth, I still hope that you’re good,” Elphaba whispers as the dark sky swallowed up the last faded memory.

“Come, we need to move on,” Fiyero whispered, offering her his burlap hand.

It was rough against her skin, and she pretended it was Glinda’s warm palm instead. But it’s better this way. No matter how hard she tries to deny it, she will always carry G(a)linda in her heart.

~~

Is it true you were her friend?

We were more than friends.

Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.

A cost Glinda would gladly pay over and over again. When she returned to the palace, she squeezed Elphie’s hat, the only remaining piece of her (or so she has been led to believe), against her chest and openly wept. The painful realization that she was all alone now made her feel sick, and she collapsed to the floor, squeezing Elphie’s hat tightly.

I hope you’re happy, my friend.

[natashaslesbian]

Guinea Pig | SJ

Summary: You test out some new products with your mom

Request: Scarlett testing out new The Outset products with her daughter and making a fun day our of it

Word Count: 1k

Warnings/Content: None :))

—————————————————————————

“And up we go!” Scarlett exclaimed as she lifted you up onto the bathroom counter, you giggled as she tightly gripped your armpits. “So what do you wanna try first baby?” Your mom asked, holding up all the new samples of products she had collected. “Silly mommy I need to wash my face first!” You said, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever. “Ah how could I forget! Do you need help?” Scarlett asked as she passed you the outsets cleanser. “No I can do it” you smiled as you twisted around to face the mirror.

Scarlett’s skincare journey had few goals, one of the most important was that it was gentle. She wanted to make sure that the outset was available to everyone and everybody, it was even gentle enough for your delicate skin. You loved helping your mom test out all her products, the two of you often had pamper nights while Colin was still at work. You adored being her Guinea pig and all the time you got to spend with your mommy.

Scarlett also washed her makeup away while you cleansed your face lightly, she would keep ‘accidentally’ splashing you with the water. “Mama!” You giggled as another small wave came in your direction “what sweetie mommy’s just washing her face!” Scarlett exclaimed pulling her goofiest face. “Now the clay mask?” You asked with your best puppy eyes. “You can have a little on your nose and cheeks okay” your mom said as she reached for the blue face mask.

You decided you wanted some hot chocolate while you let your clay make sit on your skin. You felt so proud as you helped Scarlett to top off your drinks with some whipped cream and sprinkles. “Cheers baby!” The blonde said as she lightly tapped her mug against yours. “Be careful it’s still hot” she warned. You managed to finish half of your coca before your mom lead you back into the bathroom, lifting you up onto the counter once again.

Once your mom had removed your clay mask and her own it was finally time to try out some of her new products. “Ok then, mommy’s gonna try out the lip gloss and you can tell me if you think it’s good alright?” Scarlett asked as she reached for the outsets lip oasis. “Why can’t I try it too?” You innocently questioned. “Well sweetie it’s a plumping lip gloss and you don’t need to plump your lips do you? Mamas lips are old so it’s safer for me. Would you like to put on the barrier balm instead?” Scarlett said, not wanting you to feel left out. “Ok!” You cheered as your mom passed you the barrier balm container.

“How do they look baby?” Scarlett asked you as she pouted her lips, making silly duck noises. “Pretty mama, you’re so pretty!” You giggled reaching up to tap your mom’s lips. “Aw thank you y/n” Scarlett said as she removed your hand from her mouth, opting to kiss you on the cheek instead and wiping away the residue she left behind. “How do your lips feel? Is the balm nice?” She asked. “It’s so soft mommy, like slime!” You beamed. “Well that’s good but we don’t play with skincare like we do with slime do we?” Your mom said, reminding you what was safe for a kid to play with. “No mommy because it’s not a toy” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Good girl” Scarlett said as she gave you a high five.

“Okay we have one more thing to try and then how about we watch some movies until daddy gets home?” Your mom said as she reached for a plain unlabelled bottle, you nodded enthusiastically at the idea of a movie night. “What is it mama?” You asked. “It’s a body lotion, so it helps keep your skin all silky smooth” Scarlett laughed as she tickled your ribs. Your laughter filled the air and it was your mom’s favourite sound. “Your skin is already smooth mommy!” You exclaimed, making sure she knew how much you adored the softness of her skin. “Aww well thank you sweetheart, would you like to try some lotion with me?” Scarlett asked. You nodded enthusiastically.

“Ok it might be a little cold” your mom cooed as you extended your arms for her. You squealed when the lotion touched your skin, it was colder than you were expecting, despite the warning. “It feels like butter!” You squealed as you used your hands to rub the lotion into your skin. “Do you think so?” Scarlett asked, massaging the product into her on arms. “Yep!” You smiled with a definitive nod to seal your approval. “Well I will be sure to let Katie know” your mom said, you grinned wide at the mention of Kate, she was your third favourite person in the world. “Can I tell her?” You asked with your best puppy eyes “it’s been ages since I’ve been to work with you!” You pleaded. “Hmmmm, well then how about you come to the office with me tomorrow?” The blonde said, lifting you up off the counter top.

“Yeah!” You beamed as your feet were placed back on solid ground. “Ok but if you really want to then you have to promise me that you’ll go to bed on time tonight, and no sneaking back downstairs for snacks” Scarlett said, giving you a knowing look but tickling your stomach at the same time. “No fair!” You giggled “uh uh, you do as mommy says or you can’t come with me tomorrow” your mom said, holding out her pinky. “Ok I promise” you sighed, interlocking your finger with hers. “Good girl, now what movie are we watching first?” Scarlett asked as she carried you through to the living room. “Frozen!” You yelled out “again” your mom laughed, it would be the third time this week you had watched it, although Scarlett didn’t really mind. As long as she was with you, she’d be happy to do anything.

—————————————————————————

A/N: I want Scarlett to be my mom :(

- Astara Bell

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[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nev-valkyriesdottir / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @hatergirl-69

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 16

word count: 5.0k

i've hidden some small things within my story that make up aspen and harry, have you guys noticed any? 🤭 where should i turn the story to from here? more dates, more intimacy, group activities, etc! let me know & thanks for all the support!

The next day, Aspen had cleared her schedule, wanting to use the free time for something meaningful. Her evening had been a whirlwind of laughter and warmth, spent with Isobel in her bed as they dissected every detail of Aspen's first official date with Harry. Takeout containers littered the nightstand, barely touched, because they were too engrossed in giggling over Harry's sweet words and Aspen's recounting of every look, every laugh, and every moment of connection.

Today felt different. There was a quiet kind of excitement humming in Aspen's chest, the kind that made her toes curl against the floor and her heart flutter every time she thought of surprising Harry. She'd been up early, not out of necessity but because the thought of doing something thoughtful for him gave her a sense of purpose she didn't often feel in her quieter routines.

Her plan was simple but heartfelt: bring Harry lunch. She'd realized, after observing how carefree and spontaneous he seemed, that he probably didn't bother with packing himself meals. He struck her as the kind of guy who either grabbed something quick or skipped lunch entirely. The thought tugged at her, making her want to do something about it.

Aspen had spent her morning channeling her rare bursts of culinary motivation into creating something she hoped Harry would love. The kitchen had filled with the warm, savory aroma of steak bites sizzling in butter, the citrusy tang of cilantro lime red rice, and the comforting, creamy scent of mac and cheese bubbling on the stovetop. Cooking wasn't something Aspen did often, but when she did, she poured herself into it entirely. Each stir, each sprinkle of seasoning, carried her thoughts to Harry—how he'd smile when he opened the container, the way he might tease her for going through so much effort, and how he'd hopefully enjoy every bite.

When the meal was ready, she carefully packed it into a container, sticking a pink sticky note on the lid. She spent longer than she'd admit debating what to write, eventually settling on a simple but warm message:

For my favorite person. I hope you love it! ❤️ —Aspen

The little heart at the end made her blush as she stuck the note firmly in place. It was bold for her, but she wanted to leave him with a tiny piece of her feelings—nothing overwhelming, just enough to make him smile.

Aspen slid the container into her light pink lunch bag, patterned with scattered white stars, and tucked in a bottle of water and a Redbull, knowing he might need the energy boost. Napkins and a fork were added as the final touches. Checking her phone, she noted the time—she had about thirty minutes before his usual break, just enough to pull everything together.

She dashed upstairs, her heart fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. After rummaging through her clothes, she decided on the grey flared leggings from the other night, paired with her trusty Converse. For her top, she grabbed the shirt she'd "borrowed" from Harry—it still smelled faintly of him, which made her cheeks flush as she pulled it on and tied it in the back to better fit her frame.

Aspen worked quickly, brushing her hair and pulling it into a simple half-up, half-down style. She swiped on a light coat of mascara, just enough to make her eyes pop, and dabbed tinted lip balm on her lips, giving them a subtle sheen. Glancing at her reflection, she smoothed the shirt over her waist, trying to quiet the small voice in her head wondering if she looked okay. It wasn't about being perfect—Harry had already seen her in her coziest clothes—but she wanted to feel confident and put-together.

With her tote bag and lunch bag slung over her shoulder, she took a deep breath, her heart thudding softly in her chest. The thought of surprising Harry, of seeing the look on his face when she handed him the meal she'd made with him in mind, made her smile. It was a small gesture, but one she hoped would let him know how much he meant to her.

As she locked the door behind her and stepped into the bright spring afternoon, the warmth of the sun seemed to echo the warmth in her heart. Today, she wasn't just thinking about Harry—she was showing him how much she cared, in her own quiet, thoughtful way.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The bell above the tattoo shop's door jingled softly as Aspen stepped inside, her lunch bag clutched tightly in one hand. She paused just inside the threshold, taking in the space that felt both familiar and slightly intimidating. The red-accented walls were lined with framed artwork and sketches, a testament to the creativity that buzzed within these walls. Aspen adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder, her heart racing—not from fear, but from anticipation.

Zayn was the first to notice her. He was behind the counter, flipping through the appointment book, and his face lit up when he saw her. "Well, if it isn't little miss Aspen," he greeted warmly, leaning casually on the counter. "What brings you here today?"

Aspen offered him a shy smile, shifting on her feet. "Hi, Zayn. I, um... I'm here to see Harry."

Zayn's brows lifted, his grin widening with mischief. "Here to see Harry, huh?" His tone was teasing, but not unkind. He gestured toward the back of the shop with his chin. "He's in his office. Go on back."

Before Aspen could move, another voice chimed in—Niall, sitting in the nearby waiting area, sketchpad in hand. "Ooh, Harry's got visitors now? And bringing lunch, too? Look at him, living the dream." His Irish lilt made the teasing even more playful, and Aspen could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Shut up, you two," came Harry's familiar voice from somewhere behind them. He appeared a moment later, his flannel sleeves rolled up, ink staining the tips of his fingers. His green eyes softened the moment they landed on Aspen. "Hey, love," he said, the corner of his mouth curving into a lopsided grin. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

Aspen smiled nervously, lifting the lunch bag a little as if to explain herself. "I thought I'd surprise you... I figured you might not have had lunch."

Harry's gaze flickered to the bag, then back to her, and something warm and unspoken passed between them. "Y'know me too well," he said softly. Then, turning to Zayn and Niall, he added, "Don't you two have something better to do than nose into my business?"

"Not a chance," Niall quipped, earning a laugh from Zayn. "You're the entertainment, mate."

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't bother responding. Instead, he placed a hand lightly on Aspen's lower back, guiding her toward the hallway that led to his office. "C'mon, let's get out of here before they make it worse."

Aspen's skin tingled where his hand rested, and she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder. Zayn gave her a wink, and Niall mimed a slow clap, his grin wide. They exchanged a look between each other, surprised at Harry's sudden softness. 

She turned forward quickly, her cheeks flushing even more. "They seem... nice," she murmured. Harry chuckled, his voice low and warm. "Nice isn't the word I'd use, but they mean well."

When they reached his office, Harry pushed the door open and gestured for Aspen to step inside first. The space was small but cozy, with sketches pinned to the walls and a desk covered in art supplies and paperwork. A worn leather couch sat against one wall, and the scent of ink and faint traces of cologne lingered in the air.

"Make yourself at home," Harry said, shutting the door behind them. He leaned back against it for a moment, watching as Aspen set her bag down on the desk. There was something about the way she moved, so quietly yet purposefully, that tugged at his chest. And he would be lying if he said his eyes didn't wander lower, lingering on how her gray leggings hugged the beautiful curve of her ass. He looked back up with a small smirk when she turned back to face him.

Aspen glanced around, taking in the little details of his space. It felt so him—creative, a little messy, but warm. She carefully unzipped the lunch bag, pulling out the container and setting it in front of him. "I, um, made this for you," she said softly. "I hope it's okay... I wasn't sure what you'd like, but..."

Harry stepped closer, reaching out to lift the container's lid. The smell of the warm food hit him immediately, and his eyes widened slightly. "You made all this?" he asked, looking at her in surprise.

Aspen nodded, twisting her hands together nervously. "I thought... maybe you don't bring lunch with you? And I just wanted to, you know... do something nice for you."

Harry stared at the meal for a moment, then back at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he smiled—a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "You didn't have to do this," he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. "But... thank you, Aspen. Really."

Her heart fluttered at the way he said her name, the warmth in his tone making her feel like she'd done something right. "I just... I wanted to," she admitted, looking down at her hands. "You do so much for me, Harry. I wanted to do something for you, too."

Harry stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm lightly. "You're somethin' else, y'know that?" he said, his voice low. His touch was gentle, grounding, and Aspen felt her nerves settle slightly under his gaze.

They stood there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a blanket. For Harry, the thoughtfulness of her gesture was almost overwhelming. He wasn't used to people doing things for him, not like this—not with so much care. And for Aspen, the way he looked at her, like she was the most important person in the world, made her chest feel light and full all at once.

Harry reached down, his hand sliding gently along Aspen's arm as he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn't rushed or demanding, just a quiet moment that seemed to still the world around them. Aspen's breath caught, her eyes fluttering shut as her heart raced in her chest. When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on her face, his green eyes warm and filled with something she couldn't quite name but felt deeply all the same.

"C'mon," Harry murmured, his voice low and coaxing. He slid his hand into hers, guiding her toward the worn leather couch against the wall. Aspen followed, feeling lightheaded but blissfully so, her fingers curling around his instinctively.

As they settled onto the couch, Harry unwrapped the container she'd brought him, his brows raising slightly as he took in the meal. The sight of it—the steak bites perfectly cooked, the fluffy cilantro lime red rice, and the creamy mac and cheese—made something tight in his chest ease. She'd done this for him, thought of him enough to go out of her way. He wasn't used to that kind of care, and it both surprised and humbled him.

He took the first bite, letting out a low hum of approval. "Bloody hell, Asp," he said, looking at her with wide eyes. "This is incredible. You've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

Aspen's cheeks flushed immediately, her fingers twisting in the hem of her borrowed shirt. She ducked her head, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "I don't cook much," she admitted, her voice soft. "It's kind of rare that I actually feel like doing it."

"Well, I'm lucky you felt like it today," Harry said, taking another bite and savoring it. He glanced at her, his grin softening into something more genuine. "You're spoiling me, baby."

The word "baby" made Aspen's stomach flip, and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too widely. She couldn't help the warmth spreading through her chest at his words, though, or the way her heart seemed to skip every time he looked at her like that.

As Harry continued to eat, he threw in compliments here and there—about how perfectly seasoned the steak was, how the rice was better than anything he'd had from a restaurant. Each word made Aspen shrink a little further into herself, not because she didn't like the praise, but because it made her feel so seen. She wasn't used to this, to being appreciated so openly, and the intensity of it made her shy.

But as she watched him eat, a different thought began to creep into her mind, one that made her pulse quicken. She wanted to kiss him again. Badly. The way his lips curved into a soft smile as he spoke, the way he licked a stray bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth—it all drew her in, leaving her with a quiet ache she didn't know how to voice. The realization made her blush even more, and she turned her gaze toward the floor, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

Harry, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in her demeanor. He set the container down for a moment, leaning back against the couch as he looked at her. "Y'alright?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious.

Aspen nodded quickly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her leggings. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, though her voice was quieter than usual. She glanced at him, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart stutter. "Just... thinking."

"Thinkin' about what?" Harry asked, tilting his head slightly. He had a feeling he knew, but he didn't want to push her too much. He could tell she was feeling shy, and the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

Aspen hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she looked down again, her blush deepening.

Harry couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him. "Asp," he said, reaching out to take her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, and the touch sent a shiver up her spine. "Y'don't have to say anything if you're not ready. But if i's about me, I'm all ears."

Aspen bit her lip, her gaze flickering up to meet his for a moment before dropping again. "I was just... thinking about... how much I liked—" She broke off, her face flaming as she stumbled over her words. "Never mind."

Harry's grin widened slightly, though his tone remained soft when he spoke. "How much you liked what? The food? Or somethin' else?"

She groaned softly, hiding her face in her hands. "Harry," she said, her voice muffled but filled with exasperation. "You're making it worse."

"Alright, alright," he said, laughing quietly. But he didn't let go of her hand, and the warmth of his touch was enough to steady her nerves. He was patient, waiting for her to speak when she was ready, and that alone made her feel a little braver.

"I was thinking about kissing you," Aspen finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She peeked at him through her fingers, her heart hammering in her chest. "And now I'm all embarrassed, so... yeah."

Harry stared at her for a moment, his chest tightening in a way he hadn't expected. She was so endearingly honest, even when it made her nervous, and he found himself falling for her all over again. "You're somethin' else, Asp," he murmured, his voice soft. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her temple. "Y'don't have to be embarrassed, love. I've been thinkin' the same thing."

Aspen's blush deepened, but this time, there was a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "You have?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Course I have," Harry said, his tone gentle but firm. "Who wouldn't?"

Aspen fidgeted with her hands as she tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, her blush still lingering as she glanced shyly at Harry. The words danced on the edge of her tongue, but she hesitated, biting her lip as if she wasn't sure if she should say them. He waited, patient as ever, his eyes soft as they studied her face. Finally, she took a deep breath and let the words tumble out.

"Maybe it's the whole... 'I have a boyfriend' thing," Aspen murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I've been thinking about you more than usual. Like... a lot more." She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks burning with the admission.

The corners of Harry's mouth curved into a slow, warm smile. His chest tightened at her honesty, and a wave of gratitude washed over him. He knew how much it took for Aspen to open up like this—how much courage it required for her to let him in on the thoughts she usually kept to herself. That bravery was one of the things he admired most about her.

"Y'know," he said softly, setting the half-eaten container of food aside, "you're so brave, Asp. For tellin' me all this. For lettin' me in." His voice was warm, laced with sincerity, as he leaned forward to take her hands in his. His thumbs traced gentle circles over her knuckles, his touch grounding her in the moment.

Aspen looked down at their hands, her lips curving into a shy smile. "It's easier with you," she admitted. "You make it... safe. Like I can say anything, and it'll be okay."

Harry's heart swelled at her words, and a quiet sense of wonder settled over him. He'd never expected to find someone like Aspen—someone who made him want to be better, softer, more present. He gave her hands a gentle tug, guiding her toward him.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low and coaxing. Aspen hesitated for only a moment before letting him pull her onto his lap. Her hands instinctively went to his shoulders for balance, and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her securely.

She let out a small, breathy laugh, her cheeks flushing again as she settled against him. "This is so unfair," she mumbled, though her tone was more playful than anything.

"Unfair?" Harry repeated, raising a brow as he gave her a teasing grin. "How's this unfair?"

"You're too... you," she said, gesturing vaguely as if that explained everything.

Harry chuckled, his hands resting gently on her waist as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. His lips lingered there for a moment, and he couldn't help but take in the details of her outfit—the way the leggings hugged her legs, the way his shirt looked impossibly better on her than it ever had on him.

"You're wearin' my shirt," he teased, his voice a low murmur against her skin. His grin widened as he leaned back slightly to get a better look at her. "Didn't think you'd steal from me so soon, love."

Aspen's eyes widened, and she quickly tugged at the hem of the shirt, her blush deepening. "I didn't steal it!" she protested, though her voice was soft and her smile betrayed her. "You didn't mention needing it back, and it was... just there, and it's comfortable, so..."

"So y'stole it," Harry finished for her, his tone light and teasing.

She buried her face in her hands, letting out a soft groan. "You're impossible," she mumbled, though the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Harry laughed, his hand sliding up to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Impossible, huh? Guess that makes two of us," he said, his grin softening as he looked at her. His thumb brushed over her cheek, and he leaned in just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

For a moment, the world outside faded, leaving only the quiet hum of their connection. Aspen felt her heart steady, the nervous flutter settling into something warm and sure. Harry's presence had a way of grounding her, of making her feel like she could let go of the walls she'd spent so long building.

"You're somethin' else, Asp," Harry murmured, his voice filled with quiet reverence. "Y'know that?" Aspen bit her lip, her gaze meeting his. "I think you might've mentioned it," she said softly, her smile shy but genuine. Harry chuckled, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her temple. "Well, I'll keep sayin' it," he promised, his arms tightening around her. "Every chance I get."

Aspen’s fingers moved delicately along Harry’s shirt collar, their slow, rhythmic movements betraying the nervous energy coursing through her. She felt the soft material between her fingers, grounding herself in the moment, but all resolve slipped away when Harry pulled her closer. A small, involuntary sound escaped her lips, blending into a soft giggle as his lips curved into a smirk against hers.

Harry’s hands rested on her hips, his grip firm but reassuring. He tilted his head up to meet her lips, their familiar softness igniting a warmth in his chest. It had been too long—much too long—since he’d kissed her like this, and the moment felt like a long-awaited reunion. The cool press of his lip ring against her skin sent a shiver through her, its gentle nudges against her teeth a comforting reminder of their closeness.

For Harry, kissing Aspen always felt different—more intimate, more profound. Her lips molded perfectly against his, and the subtle gasps she made only fueled his desire to savor every second. It wasn’t just the act itself; it was the way she melted into him, the way her quiet trust was woven into every kiss.

Aspen slid her arms around his neck, her thumbs brushing lightly against the soft curls at the nape of his neck. The sensation made him hum low in his throat, the sound reverberating between them. Her touch was featherlight, reverent, and it made Harry feel cared for in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

Their kisses were slow and tender at first, each one a quiet confession of how much they’d missed this. But when Aspen tilted her head slightly, granting him better access, Harry’s lips parted. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip, and Aspen’s breath hitched. Without hesitation, she parted her lips, letting the kiss deepen.

The moment their tongues met, Aspen’s body instinctively leaned closer, her movements shy yet intentional. The languid motion of their tongues moving together sent a warmth coursing through her, spreading from her chest to her fingertips. Her thumbs brushed gently over the curls at the base of his neck, grounding her in the moment.

For Harry, it was as if time slowed. Every touch, every small sound Aspen made, was etched into his mind. His fingers tightened slightly on her hips as he sat up straighter, his head tilting to match the new depth of their kiss. The soft noise Aspen made from her nose—a quiet exhale laced with pleasure—sent a jolt through him. He didn’t want to stop, but the need to taste more of her overwhelmed him.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away from her lips, but he didn’t stray far. His lips pressed gently to her jawline, tracing a line of tender kisses down to the side of her neck. Aspen tilted her head instinctively, granting him better access, her cheeks flushed with a deep blush that spread all the way to her neck. The warmth of his mouth against her skin made her dizzy in the best way, and she let her eyes flutter shut as she leaned into his touch.

Though this was only the second time Harry had kissed her like this, the intensity of it all overwhelmed Aspen in the best way. It wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way Harry’s touch felt deliberate, the way he seemed to cherish every inch of her. She buried her manicured nails gently into the curls at the back of his neck, her fingers tightening slightly as she let herself sink further into the moment.

Harry’s hands shifted, his fingers splaying out over her hips as they began to wander. He tested the waters carefully, his hands slowly moving toward the curve of her ass.

“This okay?” His voice was low, thick with want but tempered with care, his words murmured between kisses as his lips lingered against her skin.

Aspen’s breath caught at his question, but she nodded, her voice soft yet assured. “Yes,” she whispered, her tone trembling slightly but filled with trust. When Harry kissed that one particular spot on her neck, a breathy whine escaped her lips. “Yes, it’s okay,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry hummed in approval, the sound vibrating against her skin as he kissed her again, focusing on the spot that had made her gasp. His fingers moved lower, trailing over the curve of her ass before gripping gently, pulling her closer against him. She fit against him so perfectly, it almost made his head spin.

“You’re perfect,” Harry whispered against her skin, his lips brushing against her collarbone. He pressed wet, lingering kisses there, his teeth grazing her lightly, just enough to make her shiver. Aspen’s hands tightened in his curls, her soft breaths quickening.

The next sound she made was different, not quite a whine but unmistakably a moan. It was quiet, shy, as if she hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but it made Harry pause for a moment.

She had moaned for him, on his lap, in his office, because of what he was doing. 

Harry groaned softly against her neck, his lips trailing wet kisses along her skin. The nip he gave to her sweet spot drew a quiet gasp from Aspen, followed immediately by a soothing kiss that made her body relax under his touch. She felt warm, wrapped in the cocoon of his arms, and completely consumed by the moment—until a sharp sound jolted her out of it.

Her eyes shot open, her ears now hyper-focused on the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic shot through her like lightning, and her hands quickly slid down from Harry’s neck to his shoulders. She gave him a gentle but urgent push, scrambling off his lap and onto the seat beside him.

Harry blinked in confusion, leaning back against the cool leather as he tried to process what had just happened. His brows furrowed deeply, his green eyes clouded with concern. Had he done something wrong? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Asp?” His voice was low, tinged with worry as he studied her flushed face. “What happened? Did I—.”

Before he could finish his thought, Aspen shook her head frantically, her soft voice rushing out a series of breathless “no’s.” She was practically vibrating with nerves, her fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt when the door swung open.

There, standing with smug grins and bags of crisps in hand, were Zayn and Niall.

“We just came to check on how your homemade lunch was,” Zayn began, his tone dripping with mock innocence. His gaze flitted between Harry and Aspen, taking in their disheveled state. His grin widened. “But it’s very clear you need some alone time.”

Niall snickered beside him, not bothering to hide his amusement. Harry ran a hand through his wild curls, his face twisting into a scowl.

The picture Zayn painted wasn’t far off. Harry’s hair was a mess, his lips red and slick from their kisses, and Aspen’s face was a shade of crimson that matched the heat she felt radiating from her cheeks. They probably looked the part of being “busy,” and that only added to Harry’s irritation.

“Don’t you dipshits know how to knock?” Harry growled, his voice sharp as his glare bore into them. “Get the hell out.”

Zayn and Niall didn’t seem phased, their laughter echoing as they backed out of the room. They continued to crack jokes through the muffled door, their chatter trailing off as their footsteps faded.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the sound of Harry letting out a long, exasperated sigh. He leaned back and turned his head to Aspen, his expression softening the moment he saw her face. She was burning red with embarrassment, her wide brown eyes fixed on the closed door as if willing it to lock on its own.

Harry chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as he reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. His fingertips lingered against her cheek, his touch gentle and grounding.

“That was somethin’, huh?” he said, his lips curving into a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry 'bout that, love. Was what I was doing okay? Didn’t scare you off, did I?”

Aspen let out a shaky breath, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she tried to gather her thoughts. Slowly, her eyes peeled away from the door to meet Harry’s.

Her gaze took in everything about him—his unruly curls, his lips still glistening and swollen from their kisses, the cool glint of his lip ring catching the light. He looked confident and composed, as if the interruption hadn’t rattled him at all. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly handsome he was, and the realization only made her blush deepen.

“No, no…” Aspen’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper as she tried to convey her feelings. “It was good. I liked it. Really… liked it, H.”

Her words were sincere, and though her tone was laced with shyness, it carried a weight of gratitude. She appreciated how Harry always checked in with her, how he never took her silence or hesitation as anything but a reason to ensure her comfort.

Harry’s heart swelled at her honesty. He knew how much courage it took for her to open up, and every time she did, it felt like a gift. His lips curved into a small, lopsided grin as he hummed in approval.

“Mmm.” His fingers wrapped gently around her ankle, tugging her closer with ease. “Yeah?”

Before Aspen could process what was happening, Harry guided her down onto the seat, coaxing her to recline fully. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her chest, each pulse so loud she swore it echoed in her ears.

Her breath hitched when Harry nudged her thighs apart with his knee, settling himself between them. The closeness made her head spin, her fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle themselves in his curls at the nape of his neck once again.

Harry’s grin widened, playful and teasing as his gaze roamed over her. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with amusement as he kissed her shoulder and worked his way slowly up the side of her neck.

“’Cause I wasn’t done.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Ro! I’ve been on a mint chocolate chip ice cream kick lately, and it makes me wish I could share a pint with a babe (that’s also probably very much the pre period hormones, but anywayyy) which ice cream flavor do you think you would associate with each of the babes? Their favorite flavor and/or personality trait-wise.

Mint chip is my favorite, too! \o/ I don't get to eat ice cream much, but this was interesting to think about. I will try not to project onto the babes, though, only their pure likes maybe...

Oh snap! I can use the banner again!!! (All characters I've ever written for below.)

James Mace - Neapolitan

When this guy indulges (very rarely), he can't decide on just one flavor, so the easiest thing to do is get multiples. If he can go to a shop where you order by the scoop, he'll ask whoever is behind the counter what the popular or new or their faves are and try three of those. Mace, I believe, can pack away some ice cream.

Curtis Everett - Birthday Cake or Cotton Candy

The sickliest sweet things are a delight to Curtis. He's never gotten over how bland and boring and miserable the food of his childhood was. He goes nuts for sugar overload, but in intensity of taste, not in volume.

Jimmy Dobyne - Peach

Fruity, refreshing, creamy, and just screaming to add a dirty joke onto the end of it, Jimmy will use any excuse to sneak a double-entendre into polite conversation with a pretty lady. "Your peaches taste the sweetest..." Yeah, dessert is more about flirting than it is about eating. Ice cream is nice in the heat, however, so it's a great date option.

Johnny Storm - Cookies & Cream

With extra cookie crumbles and caramel sauce on top, he'll demand. Sprinkles, too, if you have it. Maybe some gummy worms or cereal. At least, like, five cherries. Oh! Also preferred that it be hard frozen when he starts eating so that it's not soup halfway through his rapid eating of it. The sensation of eating ice cream gets lost when he can barely tell it's cold.

Jake Jensen - Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip

This flavor has everything (and yeah, ok, I am projecting a bit on this one, whatever). Jake likes a whole lot of flavors and textures; he's actually not picky at all. He does enjoy ~the hunt~ for this rarer find in all his travels because raspberry is a popular flavor--it's often a sorbet though--but it's not the most popular of the berry options. He also will try all of the crazy niche flavors at hole-in-the-wall places. Conversely, it is easier to work while not holding a bowl or cone, so Jake loves a good milkshake or malt. Those he can sucked down like air.

Lloyd Hansen - Mint Chocolate Chip

My theory is this man is obsessed with fresh: fresh food, fresh sheets, fresh intel, fresh meat. Bet you his lip balm is always, only mint, too. Very classic. Very pristine. Fresh. Sweetness with a purpose.

Ari Levinson - Butter Pecan

Fine, I'm projecting again, idec, but you can't tell me Ari isn't this kind of old soul who loves not-overly-sugary treats! You cannot change my mind. That guy loves the crunch of candied pecans in there, he freaking lives for that rounded slightly-savory sweet cream flavor, and he loves that it's widely available but never sold out anywhere. Easy!

Ransom Drysdale - Coffee

And it's weirdly been that way since he was too young of a kid to drink coffee? Turns out, this was the flavor his father got but told Ransom he wasn't old enough for, he wouldn't like it. Of course, Ran immediately ordered two scoops of it in a chocolate dipped sprinkle cone, and while he may not have been totally keen on it in that exact moment, coffee-flavor grew on him. He loves it as much as he loves all of the other behaviors that say "f*** you" to his parents.

Steve Rogers - Rocky Road

Created during the Great Depression, this ice cream was shared between Steve and his Ma quite a few nights when he was too sickly to go out but needed a pick-me-up. Bucky enjoyed it with him, too, but it's not his favorite. Steve tends to really enjoy eating only when there's nostalgia attached to the food.

Bucky Barnes - Chocolate Chip Peanut Butter

Rich, velvety, and made slightly different by each company. Sometimes Bucky wants ribbons of fudge and the tiny pb cups mixed in; sometimes he wants full-blown chocolate ice cream with peanut butter swirled in. Can't go wrong. Only good, heavy, decadent happiness vibes.

I am...stunned at how confident I feel in these choices HA!

Thank you for asking!

[madschiavelique]

➯ 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐦𝐚𝐧 : 𝐀𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

here you might find content such as : ★ - miguel o'hara x reader drabbles & headcanons ★ - miguel o'hara x reader x peter b. parker drabbles & headcanons ★ - hobie brown x reader drabbles & headcanons (upcoming)

— 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

—————𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : a 4 shot miguel x reader where tension grows in each parts, he teases you, you tease him and it ends up in a glorious smut content warnings : blood, bullet, biting (literal), no use of Y/N, smut on the 3rd and 4th part (if there are others please do tell so that i can add them !)

----- chapters : ★ 1 — love bite ★ 2 — late night training ★ 3 — unexpected mission (nsfw) ★ 4 — shameless (nsfw)

𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : in which you start your new life as a Biology student, and have to live with the fact that your hot neighbour is also your hot teacher. content warnings : collegeteacher!miguel o’hara x student!reader, smut, praise kink, degradation kink, pnv sex, fingering, spanking, sir kink, size kink, no use of Y/N, fem!reader.

masterlist

—————𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Restraint (Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader) NSFW

summary : you convinced Miguel to wear a muzzle to fuck you, and let's just say it drives him insane. content warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, unprotected safe (be safe kids), miguel becoming a tiny bit angry because he can't kiss you nor bite you, possessive miguel, no use of Y/N word count : 1,1k

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 (𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) — 𝑼𝒑𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈

summary : you got a new lip balm set, with a bunch of different flavours, and miguel wants to try them all by kissing you content warning : none, absolute fluff

—————𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

—————𝐒𝐅𝐖

✿ when you get one of these pheromone perfumes

✿ when miguel gets jealous because a random spiderperson flirts with you

✿ miguel nearly dies on a mission and now wants you by his side at all times

✿ headcanons (platonically and romantically) with an asexual reader

✿ headcanon : why vanilla ice cream with occasional sprinkles is miguel's favourite flavour

✿ miguel takes care on you on your periods

✿ reassuring miguel about his scars

✿ headcanon : miguel's type

✿ miguel reassuring a self conscious reader about their body

✿ miguel takes care of you when you're sick

✿ you tease miguel by using his last name

✿ headcanon : how miguel sleeps

—————𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖/𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

✿ when you say miguel is too big and he won't fit, but he does

✿ you ride miguel's face until it fixes his neck

✿ when you wear a sundress and miguel can't contain himself

✿ when you ask miguel to teach you how to suck his dick

✿ when miguel discovers he likes being the little spoon

✿ miguel humps you when he's stressed

✿ miguel discovers you want lots of kids, so he breeds you

✿ riding miguel for the first time

✿ headcanon : miguel's favourite sex positions

✿ pegging miguel for the first time

✿ riding miguel to overstimulation... so he fingers you and gives you oral instead

✿ miguel discovers you're a stripper

✿ reader's first time with softdom!miguel

✿ reader rambling about how down bad they are for miguel, and him hearing it

✿ miguel said he didn't want kids after gabriella... but sectrely tries to breed you

—𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

—————𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

—————𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖/𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

✿ miguel made you cry because he was mean as you were eiffel towered by him and Peter B (nsfw)

✿ after tying you down and fucking you senseless, Miguel and Peter take care of you

✿ miguel and peter overstimulating you

✿ miguel and peter railing you from possessiveness

—————𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄

✿ yandere headcanons : yandere!miguel o'hara x reader x yandere!peter b parker

—————𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐒

✿ how spider people feel orgasms (nsfw)

✿ how miguel's voice sounded before all the trauma

✿ thoughts on sub!reader with miguel and peter (nsfw)

✿ anon take on yandere miguel overstimulating you (nsfw)

✿ reader taking selfies after giving miguel head (nsfw)

✿ miguel fucking you and whispering 'iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou' (nsfw)

✿ why i picked nena as main pet-name from miguel

✿ anon developping on yandere!miguel and yandere!peter b parker (dead dove)

✿ anxious reader playing with miguel o'hara's hand (nsfw bonus at the end)

✿ miguel celebrating the holidays

✿ would miguel neglect his partner because of the multiverse work

✿ realistic scenario of miguel loving someone

✿ greek soldier miguel au idea

✿ anon and i expanding on the greek soldier miguel au idea

✿ cursed vampire miguel o'hara au idea

✿ miguel anxiety blanket

✿ miguel's favourite songs

✿ "i'll kill you if you don't shut up" girlfriend with "that's so hot, i love u" miguel

✿ miguel's insecurities

please, before sending me a request, make sure you read the request rules

thank you <;33

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Herbs: Rosemary

Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis, Salvia rosmarinus)

*Poisonous *Medical *Kitchen *Masculine

Folk names: Compass weed, Dew of the Sea, Elf Leaf, Guardrobe, Incensier, Libanotis, Polar Plant, Seas Dew

Planet: Sun

Element: Fire, Air

Abilities: Protection, Love, Lust, Mental Power, Exorcism, Purification, Healing, Sleep, Youth

Why Poisonous?: Their oil content. Large quantities of rosemary leaves can cause vomiting, spasms, coma and in some cases, pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs). Rosemary can cause miscarriages so it is not recommended for expecting mothers. It is also not recommended for those with high blood pressure, ulcers, Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis.

Do not consume rosemary oil

Characteristics: With its aromatic, needlelike leaves, the rosemary plant grows in a bush and can be quite large in the right growing conditions. Can grow two lipped, purplish-blue and white flowers.

History: Was first referenced on a stone tablet that dates back to 5000 BCE. Is native to the Mediterranean region. It was considered sacred by the Spanish due to its association with the Virgin Mary. In France, it is referred to as incensier due to its popular usage as an incense.

Growing Rosemary:

Easy to grow?: Yes.

Rating: Beginner Friendly

Seeds Accessible: Yes

How to Plant Rosemary

Video Guide

Where to Find Seeds

Magical Usage:

Stimulates memory and thought processes

If burned, adds an energy of protection and purification to a space

Sprinkling its leaves onto graves will cause the undead to be at peace

Carried in an Herbal Amulet will give one confidence and courage

Placing the leaves under your pillow will ensure good sleep and banish nightmares

Can be used in love and lust incense spells as well as healing poppets

Used to be included in bridal flowers so that the couple will stay true to their vows

The smell is supposedly very offensive to evil spirits

Smelling rosemary every day can help preserve one’s youth

Medical Usage

In oil form, can be used to relieve rashes and blemishes on the skin

Can help relieve muscle pain, improve memory, boost the immune system, and promote hair growth

In balm form, can repel insects

Sources

[beauiestars]

OBI-WAN KENOBI - Scars of Age

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader {PART EIGHT}

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: SLOW BURN, pining, plenty of inaccuracies with timeline and facts, graphic-ish violence, a sprinkle of death and injury, a couple mentions of vomiting (non-explicit/totally casual) [LIST TBC].

Beau's Note: Fucked up the formatting first time I posted this - oopsie. Main uploads are on ao3 btw!

Summary: They say time heals all wounds. But with the forces of the universe tearing them apart, can two childhood best friends rediscover their connection and find solace in each other once more?

"I will be back for you."

Those words lingered in your mind, shadowing you to the Jedi Temple. By the time you reached your chambers, dawn's first light brushed the horizon. Scrubbing a hand over your face, you stumbled into the bathroom. The cold spray of the shower rinsed away the day's remnants, and by the time you donned fresh robes and fastened your belt, you'd regained your composure.

One last glance in the mirror confirmed you looked presentable enough to report to Master Yoda. You straightened your robes for good measure, smoothed your hair, and stepped out into the silent corridors of the Jedi Temple.

The halls were still, bathed in the soft glow of morning. Yet, every shadow seemed to press in closer, and every whisper of sound prickled at your ears. Your lightsaber felt heavier at your side. I am Darth Sidious. Remember my name, child. You shuddered, shaking the memory loose as you quickened your pace.

You found Master Yoda in one of the training rooms, his serene presence a balm to your frazzled nerves. He was overseeing drills with the younger Padawans, his sharp eyes tracking their movements. The children moved in careful synchronicity, their faces a mix of concentration and excitement. Among them, you spotted Juna, who grinned at you with a wave. You returned it, your steps growing lighter as you approached the Grand Master.

"Master Yoda," you greeted, bowing low.

He turned to you with a small smile, his expression warm and approving. "Returned, you have. Succeeded, you did," he said, his tone carrying a note of pride.

"Thank you, Master," you said, unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "I'm grateful for the opportunity."

"Knew you would succeed," Yoda hummed, leaning on his gimer stick. His gaze sparkled with amusement. "Take the day off, you may. Earned it, you have." He sent you a sly wink, and you swore the force of it summoned the hangover you'd been dodging all morning. You bowed again, though not before catching his knowing grin, and began the long trek back to your quarters, fully intending to sleep for the rest of the day.

As you turned a corner, lost in thoughts of your bed, you collided with someone, the impact sending you sprawling onto the cool stone floor. You groaned, your body feeling far too heavy to move. You shouldn’t have accepted those free drinks.

"Y/n," came a familiar voice. You glanced up through half-lidded eyes to find Obi-Wan Kenobi standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I was just looking for you."

You groaned louder, dropping your head back to the floor. The effort to respond felt monumental. He chuckled, crouching down to offer you a hand. "Really, look at you," he teased, his tone light. "What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Gripping his hands, you let him pull you to your feet, though the room swayed dangerously around you. Obi-Wan steadied you with a firm grip, his eyes narrowing with concern beneath his humour. "Let's get you to your quarters," he said. When you failed to respond, he sighed dramatically and, without warning, hefted you over his shoulder.

You didn't protest. In truth, you didn't have the energy to—and your head was pounding. The familiar scent of his robes and the steady rhythm of his steps were oddly comforting. Before you knew it, he'd deposited you onto your bed, your head sinking into the pillow with a contented sigh.

Obi-Wan settled on the floor beside you, leaning back against the wall. "I was going to let you rest before asking about your mission," he said, a lopsided grin on his face. "But now I simply must know what you've been up to."

You grabbed the water you'd left on your bedside table and took a long sip, silently applauding your foresight. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you began recounting your adventure on Tatooine. Obi-Wan listened intently, his expression shifting between amusement and disbelief as you described the events—though you carefully omitted the part about Darth Sidious.

When you reached the bit about the drug lord's persistent flirting and numerous marriage proposals, Obi-Wan's lips tightened. "Don't be jealous," you said, your voice teasing. "You know you'll always be my number one."

The words hung between you for a moment, both light-hearted and strangely weighty. Obi-Wan's answering smile was soft, his eyes warm. "I'll hold you to that," he said, the humour in his tone tempered by something more sincere.

You continued, describing the aftermath of the mission and the relief of knowing the spice deal had been stopped. "It feels good," you admitted, pride evident in your voice. "Finally, a win under my belt."

Obi-Wan nodded, his expression softening. "You did well, Y/n. I'm proud of you." His words carried a sincerity that made your chest tighten, a quiet acknowledgment of how far you'd come.

In his presence, the pestering shadows of your encounter with Sidious felt a little less oppressive. For the first time since returning, you allowed yourself to relax. Whatever had happened on Tatooine, and whatever doubts it had sown, it didn't matter right now. Obi-Wan was here, and that was enough.

Obi-Wan left your quarters an hour or so later, giving you space to nap and properly recuperate. The moment the door shut behind him, you melted back into the bed, letting its comforting embrace pull you under.

Unfortunately, what lay behind the dark, encompassing lids of your sleepy eyes were horrors you hadn't experienced before. You were no stranger to nightmares, but yours tended to be quieter, filled with distant stares. You were often on the outside of a room made of glass, on the outskirts of the Jedi Temple—always outside and alone. Shunned from everyone and trapped away from the place you'd grown up in. Obi-Wan would avert his eyes silently. Master Yoda's cold stare would pierce your pleading gaze, and even Master Qui-Gon would lack the usual sparkle in his eyes.

Your dream that night was different. Was it a nightmare? There were screams—raw, bloodcurdling, primal sounds of fear. Your clothes were darker, pitch-black robes draped over your form like a smoky veil. You stood in the empty remnants of a battlefield. Dark, mud-coloured sand stretched beneath your feet, and the sky burned red. Smoke curled upward in dark clouds, and fire raged across the horizon.

Bleary-eyed, you scanned the scene. Behind you stood the figure who had haunted you ever since your encounter—his presence so palpable, it made your stomach churn. 'Darth Sidious,' you exhaled, your voice strained and barely audible. His face was obscured beneath the hood, your mind unable to fill in the blanks.

"You must do it, my young apprentice," he rasped, his voice low and grating, like a death rattle caught in his chest. One pale, skeletal hand extended toward your shoulder, and you shivered at his touch as he turned your body.

Behind you, where scorched earth had once been, knelt a Jedi. Jarik. His face was scarred but healed, his features older by ten years, worn and dirty. You felt your body stiffen further. He was on his knees, held there by an invisible force—your force.

The looming presence of Darth Sidious faded away, leaving only you and Jarik. The power buzzing under your skin was almost intoxicating.

Kill him. The voice came like a whisper carried on the wind. You shivered, but your hand dropped to your waist. Jarik's wide, trembling eyes followed your movement. He shook his head erratically.

"No. No!" he sobbed, his voice breaking. You didn't want to kill him—that wasn't who you were. It certainly wasn't the Jedi way.

So why did your hand wrap around the base of your lightsaber, plucking it from your belt? The hilt buzzed against your palm, electric and alive. You spun it a few times in your hand, and Jarik watched every movement with a pained expression, like a wounded animal being toyed with.

Do it. Make me proud, apprentice. The voice came again, more insistent. This time, you didn't shiver. Your blade ignited, bathing the dark sand in a red, churning light. It mirrored the sky above, which hung still, as though it were holding its breath.

"I don't want to do this," you said, your voice distant, entranced. The blade spun in your hand like it was a part of you. Jarik sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

"Exactly. You don't. Please, don't do this," he begged, his voice cracking with each word.

Remember what he did. The whisper burrowed deeper, anchoring itself in your thoughts. You raised the blade, and Jarik's head bowed, helpless and trembling.

You closed your eyes.

The sound of his head hitting the sand was enough to twist your stomach.

You jolted awake with a violent heave, bolting upright before scurrying to the bathroom. You collapsed to your knees and emptied your stomach into the toilet, loud, wretched gags echoing in the quiet, empty room. You flushed away the remains and wiped your mouth with tissue, discarding it without a second thought.

Your body felt leaden as you slumped onto the cold bathroom tiles. Sweat clung to your skin despite the day's chill, and your heart thudded against your ribs.

"It was just a dream," you muttered to yourself. "None of it was real."

Dragging yourself up, you gripped the edges of the sink and avoided your reflection in the mirror. The thought of dissecting the nightmare for meaning—dreams were supposed to have meaning, weren't they?—felt unbearable.

Instead, you returned to bed, pulling the covers tightly around you as though they could shield you. This time, you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

When you woke again, it was as though the burden of exhaustion had finally lifted. You stretched languidly, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles that had been given the chance to rest. Your dream from last night had gotten lost somewhere and you allowed yourself the peace of forgetting about it,

Despite being fully awake, you stayed cocooned in the blankets, savouring the rare serenity. The Jedi Temple was typically a place of calm, but in that moment, it felt like your personal haven. You stared at the ceiling, letting your mind wander over recent events. The success of your mission, the warmth in Obi-Wan's voice when he praised you, even the unsettling encounter on Tatooine—they all swirled in your thoughts, but none managed to break the tranquillity of your post-nap haze.

That is, until a soft knock at your door shattered the silence.

You groaned softly, reluctant to leave the warmth of your bed. Rolling over, you buried your face in the pillow, willing the visitor to go away. But the knock came again, patient and persistent.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed the covers away and swung your legs over the side of the bed. The cold floor against your bare feet was a sharp contrast to the cosy warmth you'd just left, jolting you further into wakefulness. Tugging your robe snugly around your shoulders, you shuffled to the door and pressed the release.

At first, you thought the hallway was empty. Then, glancing down, you were greeted by the familiar sight of Master Yoda.

"Master Yoda," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Yoda tilted his head, his large ears twitching slightly. "Another task for you, we have," he said, his voice carrying its usual mix of wisdom and warmth.

The words sent a jolt of excitement through you. After so long feeling overlooked, this felt like validation—proof that your hard work and persistence hadn't gone unnoticed. Your routine, once predictable and stagnant, was slowly filling with opportunities. It was almost too good to believe, but you weren't about to question it.

"Of course, Master," you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Yoda hobbled in with his characteristic grace, his gimer stick tapping lightly against the floor. You gestured toward the small table in the corner of your chambers, and the two of you took seats.

He wasted no time in laying out the details of your new mission. His words painted a vivid picture: a distant planet, a delicate negotiation, a chance. You listened intently, absorbing every detail, nodding along as he spoke.

As he finished, his gaze settled on you, sharp yet kind. "Much faith in you, the Council has," he said. "Pleased, they are, with your progress."

The pride swelling in your chest was nearly overwhelming. You sat a little straighter, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "I won't let you down, Master."

Yoda's lips curved into a small, approving smile. He inclined his head slightly before rising from his seat. "Rest more, you should," he said, his tone light but insistent. "A long journey ahead, you have."

You escorted him to the door, bowing deeply as he left. When the door slid shut, you leaned against it for a moment. Excitement and nervous energy buzzed in your veins.

Good things come to those who wait, you thought, a small smile playing on your lips.

Turning back to your quarters, you began gathering your belongings for the mission. The thrill of being given another chance made you feel unstoppable. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

TAGS:

[filmofhybe]

corn on a cob

🌽 pairing : park jeongseong x oc 💌 GENRE : fluff 700 wc

warning : food , kissing , sharing food

; AUTHORS NOTE : day 13 of “24 days of Christmas with filmfohybe” is almost Christmas🥹 I got a corn on a cob at my town’s Christmas market and thought about jay. And I’m going to london tmr!! I’m so excited. Now let’s get to it.

MASTERLIST TO MY OTHER WORK

The air was crisp, filled with the enchanting aroma of roasted chestnuts and the lively sounds of a Christmas market. Jay and I strolled hand in hand, surrounded by twinkling lights and the joyful hum of festive music. The atmosphere was magical, and I couldn't help but feel a warm excitement bubbling within me.

As we wandered through the market, Jay's eyes lit up when he spotted a stall selling corn on the cob. He nudged me playfully, "You know, I've been craving one of those sweet and smoky corns. What do you say baby? Can I get it?” , “of course let’s go get them!” I grinned in agreement, and we joined the line, anticipation building as we inched closer to the delicious buttery aroma. Finally, we got our hands on one steaming cobs, adorned with a generous slathering of butter and a sprinkle of seasoning. The first bite was a burst of flavors—sweetness, smokiness, and the rich taste of butter that made my taste buds dance.

Jay and I took turns nibbling on the corn, sharing laughter and playful banter. “Right stop taking big ass bites this is literally my favorite!” “EXCUSE ME? I want it as well..” As I bit into the corn, a small smudge of butter found its way to the corner of my mouth. Jay's eyes twinkled mischievously as he reached over, his thumb gently wiping away the errant butter. I couldn't help but blush at the intimate gesture under the soft glow of Christmas lights. “Jay don’t do that..” my face is now probably redder than Rudolph the red nose reindeer.

A subtle, sweet taste lingered on my lips, a combination of the strawberry lip balm I had applied earlier and the buttery goodness of the corn. Jay leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a tender kiss. It was a moment suspended in time, surrounded by the festive ambiance of the Christmas market. Smiling into the lovely kiss.

"Mmm, maybe strawberry lip balm and butter should be a lip balm scent or even flavor," Jay suggested with a playful smirk, his eyes still locked onto mine. I chuckled, enjoying the light-hearted exchange as we continued to share the corn on the cob. “Uh I don’t think anyone would like that…” “I will though. Taste exactly like the two things I love..”

We explored the market further, weaving through stalls adorned with handmade ornaments, festive decorations, and the sweet scent of hot chocolate wafting through the air. The vibrant colors of the holiday season surrounded us, creating a picturesque backdrop for our shared moments. The market's carousel beckoned us, and we decided to take a whirl on its ornate horses. The melodies of classic Christmas tunes filled the air as we circled under a canopy of twinkling lights. Jay held me close beside me. Holding my waist as he watches me with a darling smile and the world seemed to slow down as we enjoyed the simple joy of the moment.

As the night deepened, the market came alive with an even more magical glow. The towering Christmas tree at the center of the square sparkled with countless lights, and couples danced to the tunes of a live band. Jay and I found a cozy spot on a bench, wrapped in each other's warmth, watching the festivities unfold. Him secretly taking candid pictures of me as I ate my cotton candy.

The air was filled with love and laughter, and I couldn't have asked for a more perfect Christmas experience. With a contented sigh, I leaned against Jay, grateful for the simple pleasures shared on this festive night—the sweet and smoky corn on the cob, the stolen kisses under Christmas lights, and the warmth of love that made the holiday season truly magical.

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

Taking a Romantic Bath with Diavolo: Diavolo x Male MC Ficlet

The door to Diavolo’s bathroom creaked open, and immediately, the rich warmth of the space wrapped around you like a velvet cloak. The air was thick with the comforting scent of autumn—spiced apples, cinnamon, cloves, and just a hint of amber. Flickering candles lined the marble edges of the bath, their golden light casting soft, dancing shadows on the walls. It was like stepping into a dream, an oasis carved out of the season itself.

Diavolo stood at the far end of the room, his back to you as he adjusted the temperature of the water. His broad shoulders were framed by the soft glow of the candles, his usually commanding presence softened by the intimacy of the moment. The tension of his day still lingered in the slope of his shoulders, but there was an undeniable relief in the air, as though the bath was already working its magic, coaxing the stress from his body even before he stepped into the water.

Hearing your quiet footsteps, he glanced over his shoulder, and a slow, tired smile spread across his lips. "You’re here," he murmured, his voice low and warm, a welcome contrast to the coolness that often came with his regal duties. "I was hoping you’d come."

The bath itself was inviting, steam curling off the surface like the last wisps of summer fading into autumn, the water infused with the scents of fallen leaves and warm spices. You could feel the weight of the day slipping away already, just standing there, and the thought of sharing this quiet, intimate space with Diavolo made your heart flutter.

He reached for you, his hand outstretched, and when your fingers met, there was a warmth in his touch that spread through you like the glow of the candles. "It’s been... a long day," he admitted, his voice softer now, as if he didn’t need to hold up the world in your presence. "But this—being here, with you—makes it easier."

You stepped closer, letting him draw you into the circle of his warmth. The scent of the autumn-scented bath oils clung to him, mingling with his own natural scent, creating something uniquely him, something that made you feel safe and cherished. His hand traced up your arm, slow and gentle, like he was memorizing the feeling of you, grounding himself in your presence.

"Join me," he whispered, his voice like the wind through the trees, quiet but insistent. "I’ve been waiting for this all day... waiting for you."

Your gaze softened, and without a word, you let him guide you toward the bath. The steam rose up around you both as you slipped into the water, the warmth a perfect balm to the chill that lingered from outside. Diavolo settled in behind you, his arms coming around your waist as he pulled you close, his chest a firm, reassuring presence against your back.

The candles flickered, their light casting halos of gold over the surface of the water, and the scent of autumn seemed to fill every breath, grounding you both in the moment, away from the weight of responsibilities and long days.

"I’m so tired of always having to be strong," Diavolo murmured, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck, the vulnerability in his voice laid bare in the quiet intimacy of the bath. "But here, like this, I don’t have to be. I can just be me."

You tilted your head back against him, your fingers tracing small circles over his arm, comforting him in the silence. "You don’t have to be strong right now," you whispered, your voice soft and sure. "I’m here."

The Devildom’s future ruler cupped your face and sprinkled kisses across it, each one soft, sweet, effervescent in the wake of an arduous day. “Thank you, my prince. You have no idea how much that means to me. Hopefully my actions tonight will show you.”

“Your actions always speak louder than your words,” you told him, your voice as warm as the gentleness that enveloped the two of you. “No, sorry, your actions and words are equally loud. Everything you do and say has so much meaning, so much warmth, and I’m happy to be a part of it. Diavolo, thank you for letting me be a part of your story.”

He sighed, a long, deep breath, as though he were finally allowing himself to let go, to melt into the warmth of the bath and the peace of your presence. His hold on you tightened slightly, not out of need, but out of gratitude—grateful for the reprieve, for the simple joy of sharing this quiet, tender moment with you. He brought you into his arms, not minding how your ravenous shafts rubbed against each other in the stardust encrusted waters.

The water swirled gently around you both, and outside, the world seemed to fade into the background. The only thing that mattered was the warmth between you, the scent of autumn, and the steady beat of Diavolo’s heart against your back. And in that moment, everything else fell away—the long, stressful day, the weight of the Devildom, the burdens of duty. All that was left was this—a bath shared in the soft glow of candlelight, the gentle embrace of a lover, and the sweet, fleeting magic of autumn.

[urapunk]

bryce montrose headcanons? and if you ship him with chad, hcs for their ship as well ?

i dont know literally anything about bryce but im gonna try

Bryce Montrose & Chad Morris HCs!

Some are about Bryce singularly, some are about Chad singularly.

Bryce loves debating. He loves making up valid arguments and having the exhilerating feeling of being correct. Bullworth once had a debate team but after like 3 months everyone in it left except for Bryce and... Gord for some reason? I HC he likes debate too. Chad loves to support this, to give him topics for him to write on.

Speaking of writing, bryce loves writing ANYTHING. He writes like he talks, fancy words sprinkled in with a bit of 'like, uh' unless the paper is supposed to be professional.

Grape Soda Gobbler. He LOVES grape soda to no end, and would probably sell his friends on the conditions he gets an endless supply. He just likes grape soda... And only he likes grape soda. He and 3 other folks at bullworth, ew. Special mention; cherry coke. The preps love cherry coke, but nobody loves it more than derby.

Has an odd love for board games. He will rip you apart in Monopoly or Sorry, just becaude he can. He loves to ask chad id they can play a board game because it's just fun. And chad usually complies, modtly because when it comes to bryce he think son thing and one thing only. 'Whatever you say beautiful'

Chad LOVES Lesley Gore. His head'll be totally gone while he's humming Little Girl Go Home. He also adores other 1960/50s artists, like Paul Anka or A LITTLE bit of Johnny Cash. He thinks his music is pauper music.

Chad cannot stand the winter. He hated the cold, hates how his feet feel like ice cubes and mint gum when he walks, and how his lips get more chapped in the winter. Also, nobody likes a stuffy nose.

Bryce likes to help with his hate of the cold, they are certified cuddlebugs your honor.

Chad cant eat without something distracting him sometimes. He just cant, it's boring like that. He's like the 2006 version of an ipad kid, just always infront of the TV in his spare.

Chad loves Purple. His silk sheets? Purple. Journals and notebooks? Purple. PENS? PURPLE! His first car would be purple too, maybe with gold colored accents. His car would be expensive is what I'm saying.

They dont like to he seperated. Bryce likes knowing that chad is there so he could smush his cheek against chads shoulder, or hold him and sway with his face buried in the collar of chads polo. They hook pinkies when they're sitting in class all focused because bryce never wants to stop touching chad.

Chad's face flushes insanely. It only shows up as a slight blush on his skin but trust me, he's redder than a tomato in lipstick. Bryce always gets worried when he feels chads face is insanely warm.

Chad once threw a tennis ball into a bush of flowers for chester to return with.. A sloppery half attempt at a wedding photo worthy moment and bouquet, but Bryce got the idea and nearly melted. It was adorable.

Bryce loves to buy things. Small, or big, if chad wants it he gets it. He mentioned a particular scent? Bryce searched for hours to find it. He's dedicated and its adorable, especially when it's just something small like a specific flavor of lip balm or a discontinued drink he likes.

Bryce loves Chad's dog Chester. He cant stand when the slobbery little animal looks at him. He goes straight to scratch attacking his body before behind the ears and chin. If chester is laying down Bryce will sit criss cross beside him and rub his tummy like he needs to make electricity with the friction.

<3

(i was wondering why i wasnt getting anyone to interact then i realized I FORGOT TAGS. I DIDNT ADD ANY TAGS THE FIRST TIME.)

(Chads favorite Lesley Gore song. vvv)

[brunchable]

2319 Chapter 9 — Start of Love & War || Young!S.S × F!Reader.

Word Count: 2K Genre: Young Love, Diary Entry, Flashbacks. A/N: Inspired by the Korean Drama 2521. Thank you for being patient guys, I do apologize if it's short! I admit I've sorta forgotten some stuff so I'm rereading everything lol. I might focus on the present next chapter.

The night of July 25 1999, it was a hot, scorching summer, and night had come with a breeze like a balm. It was noisy all around the camp; not only your group was the one waiting for the meteor shower to start. The radio was on for the forecast and some people were singing, others were telling stories and laughing around the fire. 

The midnight blue sky is exuberant, twinkling with bright, white sparkles and fireflies.  Stephen turns his head to look at you, his face illuminated by the stars. He digs his fingers into the soft grass of the hill.  

At some point, you caught Stephen staring at you as you blew a deep sigh out of your lungs and you felt embarrassed, somehow. Especially after confessing to each other that both of you have lingering feelings mutually. 

"Oh my! Look up!" Donna gasped and pointed skyward as millions of diamond streams fell from the sky.

Stephem smiled at you and asked you if you had ever seen a meteor shower before. “No, it’s for the first time”, you answered and suddenly quickly turned away to hide the hint of pink blooming on your cheeks.

He pretended he did not notice and he went on, “It’s interesting how people are fascinated by this phenomenon, when the Earth basically passes through the tail of a comet, which collects everything it finds in its journey through the Universe.”

Both of you gazed up at this dark, vast canopy sprinkled with millions of diamond lights. So mesmerised were you by the sight of it, your voice took on a dreamy tone when you answered him, “Yes, but how beautiful it all looks from down here.” you softly chuckled. 

He laughed softly together with your silvery laugh. It was so sweet and sunshiney, he half-expected flowers to sprout on the ground wherever you walked and a coterie of singing woodland animals to trail behind you while you traipsed through meadows or whatever girls like you did.

Both of you lifted your gaze and saw small shiny globes shooting across the sky, leaving behind a neon-like effect. Exclamations and applause could be heard around you, and you felt him take your hand and clutch it slightly. All he seemed to notice were your bright eyes, they were close enough that he could see the way the lights from the comets reflected in your eyes, like tiny star-beams streaking across an endless night. Your lips parted, lush and pink, and an insane desire to find out whether they tasted as sweet as they looked now gripped him. He nodded with a very warm glow in his eyes, a very softened looking face and an almost hidden smile.

You were too absorbed by the meteors to react to his actions but your heart did skip a beat as you watched the whole show on an indigo background, like a huge canvas, which would lift with the sunrise. 

Stephen closed his eyes and made a wish for time to stop for a short while, so that he can savour the moment with you. His chest aches at the idea of losing the thread of this night, and the ease that has shaped between you, an ease born of weeks instead of months or years, but it is something, fragile and lovely.

Stephen sighed softly, stealing glances at you whenever he can so that his photographic memory will have your image seared into his brain. Then, he looks skyward to see the night sky, twinkling with myriads of mysterious stars, blue-black velvet, making the heart stop from the power of mystical attraction.

Something inside Stephen sparked and right there and then, he has made up his mind. He was going to finish what he started, he will graduate university. 

Stephen's Flashback 

“It’s laughable, isn’t it?” He says. 

“What?” Beverly asks him.

Stephen gestures to himself. “This.” He leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. “I should just quit Mom. I’m obviously not cut out for this.” 

Beverly sighs. “Not cut out for what? College? Real life?” 

Stephen shakes his head. “Responsibility in general, really. Dad was right when he told me that I'm no better than his estranged brother, Uncle Rainer. He was right about that, at least.”

"This year is just a really bad year, Stephen. A really, really challenging year. Sometimes in life, we need a few bad days in order to keep the good ones in perspective.” His mother reached out to hold his hand while keeping the other one controlling the steering wheel.

"You might not see it yet, Stephen but you have what it takes. Your grandfather always tells me to finish what I started, thrust aside your trepidation and self-doubt. Bare your teeth and embrace the process. Most importantly, finish what you start. You’ll be surprised by what unfolds and presents itself before your very eyes." Beverly continued with a slight imitation of her father. 

She continued, "And if at the end of it all, you still don’t like medicine, you can do whatever you want to do. You're young, this is not the end of the world."

▪︎▪︎▪︎

August 5th 1999

“Again, (Y/N)!” If you hear the words 'again' and (Y/N) together in a sentence one more time, it might be the thing that finally tips you over the edge. 

You've been on the edge since you woke up this morning with a headache sent directly from the pits of hell, so the last thing you need right now is more grief from Coach George Laurier. You focus on suppressing your annoyance, like you do every training session when he makes it his mission to push you to your limits. 

Rationalising it’s his dedication that makes him such a successful coach, he decided throwing your ice skates at him is something that should stay in your imagination. 

It’s been a few days since the camp and right when you got back home, your father instantly gave you a condition. A condition to make it ‘fair’ according to him. Since they allowed you to go on that trip, the least you could do was start training. So here you were, training for the next olympic games. You’ve been so focused that you haven’t been able to hang out with Donna.

“You’re being sloppy, (Y/N)!” he yells as you fly straight past him. “Sloppy skaters don’t get gold medals!” 

What did I say about not throwing skates at him? I already have a gold medal.

“Come on, (Y/N)! Put in some effort for once.” Alex snickers, poking his tongue out at you when you shoot him a cold glare. 

Stupid Alex Laurier. Just because he is the best male hockey player the University of Washington, Devonport has to offer and having an ex-figure skater as a father, Alex acts like knew everything about both figure skating. 

“It’s coming, Coach,” you say with as much fake enthusiasm as possible. “I’m getting there; it’s not perfect yet, but I’ll keep practising.” It’s a minor lie, a harmless one. You are getting there. What you've failed to mention is you're only getting there off the ice, specifically when you're attached to equipment that helps you get there. 

“She’s getting there,” Alex lies, throwing an arm around his Dad's shoulders. “Hang in there just a bit longer, (Y/N).” 

It was nice for Alex to be on your side and show a united front to his father. 

George mutters something inaudible and waves you off flippantly. “I’ll see you two back here tomorrow, and if you could both not be late, that would be great. I’m fairly certain eating McDonalds before training isn’t going to get either of you onto the Olympic team. Understood?” 

Shit. “Yes, Coach,” you say in harmony. 

Alex is staring at his phone, waiting for you in the lobby when you finally exit the women’s locker room. 

“I freaking told you he’d know.” you groan, swinging your bag toward him as soon as you're close enough to hit him in the stomach with it. “I didn’t even have anything!” 

He grunts at the impact, tugging the bag from your hands and flinging it over his shoulder. “The man has the nose of a bloodhound.”

You climb into Alex's new SUV, the latest guilt gift from his uncle, and head home. Alex and you decided it would be cool for him to be your ride since he has practice two hours after yours. 

Alex stops at a stop light and looks over at you while you rummage through your purse for your most prized possession. 

“What does the planner say you’re doing tonight?” 

 You snicker, ignoring his teasing tone. “Getting laid.” 

“Ew,” he says, the tip of his nose wrinkling as he grimaces. “Keep your imaginations to yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing,” Alex smiles to himself while you roll your eyes, “So. . . I heard Paris talked to you before we left camp. . .What did she say?”

You scoff at the memory of that morning before separating, “Y'know she apologised but then she said I should've let everyone know I couldn't swim.”

“Wow.” Alex widens his eyes, “What a massive bitch.”

“I'm over it, just as long as I don't see her again. . . Robbie was more upset than her.”

Alex pulls over in front of your house and lifts the handbrake, “To be honest, me too,” Alex said. “You know what?” 

“What?” You asked, looking over at him. Before you could even register what was happening, he leaned across the car and pressed his lips against your cheek. You almost jerked back in surprise. 

“All right,” he said, pointing at his cheek. “Lay one on me.” 

Before you could think twice, you planted a kiss right on his cheek. He smelled like pine trees. “There.” 

He grinned, sitting back just as fast as he’d leaned over. “That fixes it for both of us—and by that I mean my Dad being a pain in the ass.” 

And that’s when I fainted. Okay, I didn’t really faint. But something inside you snapped like an elevator cable, your heart plummeting to your feet. You felt light-headed and combustible, your neck hot beneath your collar. 

“Thanks,” You said, laughing a little. Thanks?! Someone kisses you and you say thanks?! Did you learn nothing from Stephen Strange? 

“That takes the pressure off.” 

No, it doesn’t! Now I have no idea what’s going on! Do you like me or are you just being a good friend in the most confusing, lip-touching possible way?! 

“Hey,” he said. “What are friends for, right?” 

Not this! You climbed out of the car onto shaky legs. Alex Laurier kissed you. Alex. Laurier. Kissed. You.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You shut the door of your room and that’s when you snapped out of your trance. You dropped your bag on the floor and combed back your hair, “What the hell was that guy thinking?”

You rushed to the window to let some fresh air in, not realising that Stephen was there, “You look frazzled.” He looked up from the guitar he was holding.

You jumped slightly and cleared your throat, "It's nothing."

“Really? That didn't seem like nothing to Alex.” 

Your face flushed at the mention of his name. You sat down, wondering if Stephen saw Alex kissing you on the cheek. He seemed so casual about it—he probably wouldn’t even think about it again. 

“He was just trying to cheer me up. His dad was very hard on me during training today.” You replied, which was not all a lie since you think that's what Alex was doing—at least that's what 'taking pressure off' is to him.

“Nice to see that it worked.” Stephen chuckles and sets his guitar on his stand, “Enjoy your sessions with him.” With that, Stephen grabbed his jacket and left his room, shutting the door behind him. Stephen's actions stung and it caught you off guard, rendering you speechless. Even though he was casual about it, it felt as though there was a blizzard right beneath his calm persona.

SERIES TAGS: @goldencherriess @lokislov3 @strangesweetheart @mydearalmira @veryladyqueen @seasonofthenerd @artsherlocked @bobateadaydreams @classicrebound @holygalaxyprincess @sobeautifullyobsessed @winsteria @allie131313 @gaitwae @sherlux @the-royal-petals @keistange @omgstarks @evelynrosestuff @withalittlehoney @strangeions @gwephen @cemak @patbrdac @siredlust @downtownshabby @nicoletk @lilithskywalker @youcantseem3 @samisubi @strangelockd @bloodyxsaint @lady-harvey @paola-carter @jotaros-bara-tiddies @delightfulheartdream @strangefilms @strangeobsessed

[runningmiller]

Sprinkles Ch3

Summary: Jack thinks your perfect and you don't want to let him down.

Another tube of lip balm down and you rub your hands for warmth. Maybe a new hoodie is in order? You glance at your hands and you can just feel them drying up, they’re going to start cracking any day now. Why won’t this damn moisturizer work the way it says it will? With some frustration, you take another dollop and rub it into your skin. Should you do your elbows too? You continue your work with a focused glare on your face.

“Sunshine~ where are you?” A voice pierces through your thoughts but it only encourages you to work more thoroughly, making sure your pores really suck in all that moisture. You call back to let him know you’ve retreated to the bedroom while he was busy.

He pops in, seeing you with a thing of lotion and another empty lip balm. 

“Aw, are you having that much trouble, starlight?”

With a sigh, you assure him that yes, you can feel yourself drying out like a fish. 

Jack hums, “you should probably be drinking more water then, but that’s odd. I haven’t noticed you being dry or dehydrated lately. Can I see?”

With your permission, Jack sits with you, one leg hanging off the bed as he faces you. 

He takes your hand and squeezes it, thumb tracing the back of it, running over your knuckles before turning your hand over and doing the same. He chuckles when he realizes his gloves are in the way, and pulls your hand up to his cheek. “Hmm… A little damp from the lotion, but just as soft as always Sunspot.”

He continues to hold your hand as he cups your face. He lightly drags a thumb over your lips, removing any lingering lip balm. He leans in and gently presses his lips to yours, not in a kiss, but just to touch. He pulls back and looks at you thoughtfully.

“You don’t seem dehydrated or dry in the slightest and I try to remind you to drink throughout the day. Is there any other reason you need these?” He applies the excess lip balm from his thumb to his own lips.

You admit that maybe you’re being a bit paranoid, but they’re supposed to keep you hydrated and your skin soft. So it’s all part of a healthy routine, right?

He nods his head in agreement, thinking, something in your words catches his attention.

“ Oh, oh jeez. Sunshine, can we move these for a second?”

Pushing the creams and lip balms aside, he adjusts himself to sit closer, now with nothing in his way to you. With your knees touching, he leans in again, this time so your foreheads are touching. Jack looks into your eyes with… concern? Or guilt?

“Sunshine, this doesn’t have to do with my calling you soft all the time, does it?”

Whatever he sees in you is reply enough.

“Oh, my love. When I say you’re perfect, it’s not because you’re soft and warm. Being soft and warm are only perfect because it’s you. If you were freezing cold all day and all dry and cracked lips and hands, well first off I’d try to make sure you were okay, don’t want you getting sick or in any pain. But those would be perfect too, just because they’re a part of you that day. You’re always going to be changing, but my love for you never will.”

You ask that if your lips were peeling and cracked with blood, would he still kiss you? He chuckles.

“As long as it’s you, in any form you’d take, I’d kiss you as often as you’d let me.” 

He punctuated his point with a soft and sweet kiss.

You both sit in the washroom, discussing how the lotions and balms should be organized. By size? Colour? Funky patterns on the labelling? The highest way they can be stacked without toppling?? You both spend far longer than you imagined you could rearranging and laughing over the many creative ways you two can find to organize the products.