#vice admiral red king

[bottlepiecemuses]

Ding Dong, Saturd's Dead

Next to Orochi's death this guy's death has brough me so much joy despite how horrific it is. The pain he put on Kuma and Bonney has made me hate his guts that I was wishing and thinking of how he would finally get it but it's fitting he gets it from the master he served. Who knew a nightmare fuel death would put a smile on my face?

General One Piece fandom reaction to his death:

[ether-gearhead]

Damn it, Red King…! This is why I look down on the Vice-Admiral rank! They’re not strong, they’re just Marines with Haki! And they should DEFINITELY NOT BE LOSING TO FRANKY!!!

[mrteaspill]

Drew some M(itosis)preg AU Doodles at Uni!!

(Imagine this is a timeline where Garp didnt know he can 'give birth')

Sengoku & Tsuru: Please, don't hold your baby like that Garp.

Tsuru wants to make sure Garp feels how she and Sengoku felt around him (Garp always drives them crazy, so now its their turn for payback)(little did they know, that exact baby is gonna cause so much trouble for the world)

Quick father-son nap /(>×<)\

To Rayleighs dismay, in a decade and half, hes tasked with raising not one, but TWO babies lol.

He also got it wrong about Garp. Garp didnt pull noone, he only gave birth🤷‍♂️

Just the sons being adorable😙✨️

[opsidecrewsclash]

Similar to the One Piece fave trend but with a twist

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Defend your Blurbo poll #1

There will be two polls for the Defend your Blurbo post next week. Top top two will be guaranteed posted.

All these characters are from One Piece

[thepastisalreadywritten]

IN FULL: Trooping the Colour - Princess of Wales watches flypast with King and children

15 June 2024

The Royal Family made an appearance on the Buckingham Palace balcony to watch the Red Arrows flypast.

The King and Queen were followed by the Prince and Princess of Wales, and their children Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis.

They were joined by the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh.

The Princess is appearing in public for the first time this year, as she begins her return to public life after her cancer diagnosis.

She travelled to the ceremony in a carriage with the royal children.

The King and Queen also travelled by carriage to the ceremony, riding in the Scottish State Coach while the Prince of Wales rode on horseback.

[fanaticsnail]

She Was Mine

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,000+

Synopsis: A new transfer is tasked with guarding Doflamingo as he visits the world government headquarters. Doflamingo becomes intoxicated and reminisces about the love of his life to this new transfer, confessing he still loves her and wants to be with her.

Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, drinking, intoxication, confessions of love, injury, talks of death, assassination, canon divergence, Lourdes Jordi is an OC (and an unfortunate venting target), Doflamingo is a sloppy drunk.

Notes: @feral-artistry said Doflamingo is a sloppy drunk who dials his exes and shows up on their doorstep. I needed to see it, so here is my little take on it. Image is a screen grab from one piece.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

The newest transfer in the world government center did not truly know what he was expecting while on the infamous ‘Warlord Watchdog' shift. Many marines shied away from signing up for such a feat, opting to remain fixed on their assigned tasks and not put forth their names for extra credit.

Jordi didn't know. He truly had no idea what exactly he had placed his name at the top of the sign up list. A pay rise? Certainly. The month off from night shift? Absolutely. Babysitting an inebriated violent blonde man in a pink, feathered coat as he cried into the twelfth wineglass in a row, babbling about a love once forgotten to all that heard him? Not exactly what he was hoping for.

Donquixote Doflamingo had been drinking all day, lazing about and perching on the round table in the center of the meeting space. He had flirted with both Sir Crocodile, and Vice-Admiral Tsuru in the same sentence, reaching for Mihawk’s red wine glass and taking a lengthy swig and winking at him once draining it dry.

All of the guards in the room were on edge, but Jordi remained steadfast and strong. He did not want to be placed on Donquixote duty, and instead had hardened his resolve to ask Tsuru to be assigned to Mihawk or Kuma. Instead, Tsuru took his competency and stoicism as a sign that he could handle Doflamingo for the remainder of his time at the world government headquarters.

As Doflamingo reached for lucky number thirteen for the afternoon, he halted his soft sob and sniffed back a solemn smile.

“She was mine,” he whispered, his fingers shaking as he finally made his eyes focus on the glass, “You know? She was all mine. I had her, if you catch my meaning.” Jordi gulped back his fear, darting his eyes over Doflamingo's face and attempting to understand where he was coming from.

“Name, officer,” the tall blonde barked at him, prompting the young man to jolt back in his stance.

“Jordi, sir,” the younger man stated, his nerves no longer born on his features. “Lourdes Jordi of the Fourth Flight, reporting to Vice-Admiral Tsuru, sir.” Doflamingo clicked his tongue, lulling lazily in a drunken stupor as he hung the wineglass off to the side.

“And you're, what? Eighteen? Nineteen, even?” Doflamingo slurred, his glasses falling askew on his features as he looked the young man over.

“I'm twenty-two, sir,” Jordi nodded to Doflamingo with a deep furrow in his brow. Doflamingo cackled, his eyes puffy from his earlier depletion of emotion.

“Ah, then join me, Mister Lourdes.” The king of Dressrosa gestured to the seat in front of him, “Share in one of these piss-poor excuses of a rosé with me. It's sweet, dry and absolutely disgusting. She would never approve.”

Jordi was at an impasse. On the one hand, he was on duty serving the world government in babysitting the messy, drunk warlord. On the other, he needed something to numb the pain of babysitting the aforementioned messy drunk warlord.

Glancing at the time, he noticed it finally ticked over to six in the evening, which meant his guard shift had ended for the day. Sighing out, he slowly retracted the empty bar stool from its position tucked beneath the table and took his seat. Doflamingo chuckled, topping up his wine glass and pouring one for the bronze-skinned younger man.

“Have you ever been in love, Mister Lourdes?” Doflamingo asked him, flailing the rose bottle as he spoke, spilling a small trickle from the top and dampening the mahogany table. Without waiting for an answer from the younger man, he continued.

“She was… everything to me. My whole world, my northern star shining in the night and bringing me hope in the dark. My angel, my darling,” the Donquixote king of Dressrosa trailed off a series of pet names in both Dressrosian and Marijoan, leaving Jordi feeling far more out of his depths as he initially felt embarking on such a feat.

“My sun bringing my warmth in the deepest winters, my moon rising the tides of passion in my soul,” Doflamingo again began to sniff back his glassy tears, prompting him to raise his hand to his face and remove his ruby glasses. Placing them on the table, he pinched his brow and began to sob against his fingertips.

Jordi thought on his feet, raising his wine glass outwards and upwards in a gesture of good will. He offered a small sentiment in his speech, his lips curling in a sympathetic smile.

“Shall we toast to her memory, king Donquixote?” the younger man suggested, prompting Doflamingo to look through his fingers up at him curiously. Jordi pressed on, “You are mourning her passing, yes? Should we not toast for her?”

“She's not dead,” Doflamingo snarled, releasing his eyes from his hands and reaching forward and brushing his wine glass against Jordi’s with a sarcastic grin, “She just tossed me aside, ruining me for any other potential partner because she destroyed my soul and shattered my heart like porcelain on concrete.”

“Oh,” was all Jordi offered in response, sheepishly biting back his empathetic grin and raising his glass to his lips. The liquid touched his tongue, the sweetness spreading over his palate and igniting the follicles on the back of his neck in response to the tart tang. He grimaced at the flavor, prompting Doflamingo to laugh in a low snicker.

“Tastes like piss, doesn't it?” Doflamingo teetered off his laughter and drained his glass in one fell swig, “Drink up, boy. You need to get on my level here.” Jordi groaned quietly, knocking back the sweet liquid and hissing as soon as it impacted his stomach.

Doflamingo poured himself another glass, pouring Jordi’s one second and placing the empty bottle on its side against the table before giving it a small spin. Watching the glass rotate, Jordi shook his head and formed a question in his mind about it.

“You seem awfully upset, sir. What exactly did she do?” Doflamingo sighed forlornly in response, his heart pooling in his eyes and glazing them over with glassy emotion.

He hastily drew his shirt open and pointed to a small mark in his chest. Jordi leaned forward, examining the divot and noticing the precision in the mark and how the raised welt healed in a soft silver.

“She stabbed me in the chest with her favorite blade,” Doflamingo smiled proudly before the tear that threatened to spill finally teetered over the edge, “Do you know what that means?”

Jordi sat back in his seat, his eyes widening as he took in the information that someone was close enough to Doflamingo to land a single blow. The divot in his chest was enough of an indication of the intimacy of such a heinous act on someone so dangerous.

“What does that mean, sir?” Jordi whispered, his eyes darting between the unadulterated gaze given to him from the warlord. Doflamingo sobbed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a lengthy gulp.

“It means,” he grunted back the bile rising in response to the hasty drainage of the alcohol, “She loved me. She truly loved me.” Jordi’s eyes widened at such a deranged conclusion, prompting him to raise his glass to his lips.

“What brings you to that end, sir?” Jordi tested him with his voice even and unwavering, “A blade to the chest would hardly mean such an expression, surely?” Doflamingo leaned forward, his motions slowed by the alcohol and slurred in each action.

“Because, Mister Lourdes,” Doflamingo snarled at him, leaning in closer before his lips curled into an unfamiliar and highly expressive pout, “If she wanted me maimed, she would've aimed for my face.” He leaned closer, gesturing to his cheeks before gesturing to his throat, “And if she wanted me dead, she would've aimed for my jugular.”

Doflamingo sat back in his seat and spread his knees wide, relaxing into his chair with a prideful smile.

“No, Mister Lourdes,” he continued, sniffing a lengthy inhale through his nose and smiling a true grin, “No, she loved me so much. She was mine, sh-she loves me.” Jordi nodded along politely, fearing the delusion that was expelling from the blonde warlord.

“Who was she, sir?” Jordi’s curiosity peaked, his eyes never leaving the lengthy blonde eyelashes or ruby tint of the warlords irises, “A pirate, a marine, a princess?”

Doflamingo slurred a name familiar in reputation enough to him that had Jordi's glass drop from his palm and shatter on the ground beside him. His lips parted in shock, his eyes widening and staring in shock and disbelief.

“There's-... There's no way-...” Jordi whispered, watching as Doflamingo's eyes glazed over as his consciousness slowly departed from him.

Doflamingo collapsed on the table, the weight of the potent fluids finally igniting his veins and causing him to buckle beneath his stupor. Jordi signaled the barkeep to call for backup to move the ten foot giant.

Lying in your bed, you are suddenly awoken by your Den-Den snail. Rolling immediately to your side, you sit completely upright in your bed and click the speaker to awaken the sentient technology.

You state your name in a monotonous drall, not allowing the fact you were in the midst of an REM cycle not seconds ago dissuade you from conversing precisely.

“State the target,” you utter darkly, not paying attention to what the snail was morphing into to match the distinction of the person on the other end of the call.

“Cara mia,” the voice on the other end slurred back at you, “Te amo, mi princesa.” You groan, lulling your head back and rolling your eyes at the all too familiar voice. You could almost taste the alcohol from within the mouthpiece, the snail missing the signature glasses and eyes looking red and swollen.

“Donquixote,” you utter in return, your malice dripping in venomous viscosity in every syllable, “I informed you the last time, lose this snail code. I refuse to-.”

“-Please, my love,” his hush whisper cut through the piece, his desperation pouring from his lips like warmed honey, “Please, I just want to hear your voice. My heart is with you, always. Let me hear your voice. Let me hear your melodies sing for me their sweet song.” You growl, rolling your eyes and prompting you to lie back against your pillows and pout.

“You’ve been drinking,” you note, feeling his tone shift and slur along with his uttered praises. “What have you been drinking?”

“I had tequila with breakfast, a mimosa or two to follow,” he slurred, prompting you to wince back at his confession, “Everything started getting blurry at the fourth shot, or maybe it was the absynth? I know that it got foggy for a minute there when I drank from the swordsman's wine.”

“Ah, you've mixed poisons then,” you nod before shaking your head at his confession, “You will likely not recall making this call, like all the others you've made in the past.”

“I remember them all, my love. My darling, the siren who sings my praises as she shepherds me into my doom,” he coos into the mouthpiece, “Mi princesa, mi reina, tell me you love me. Tell me, please.” You shake your head.

“It’s been a long, long time, Doflamingo,” you utter darkly, shaking your head and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“But a bat of an eyelash,” he whispered in return, “A beat of a butterfly’s wing.” You shake your head, closing your eyes and mourning your lack of slumber.

“You have had much to drink to spoil your mind and sour your words,” you sigh into the receiver. He returned your sentiment, sighing in a sarcastic breath back at you.

“My mind has never been clearer,” he slurred, “My thoughts are only of you and that pretty knife you pressed into my chest. Your lips close to mine, your thighs straddling my waist, my mind only thinks of you.”

“Doflamingo-,” you sigh, his voice cutting you off with a sorrowful sob.

“As is my heart. Always with you,” he sobbed, his breath hitching and his tobe coming out in soft sniffles, “Just-... Just tell me you love me. Tell me you feel something for me. My heart can't take it.”

You huff out your resolve, shaking your head and closing your eyes shut. Your heart panged with guilt, feeling your heart reignite with passion long since forgotten and lost to the ages that fell between you.

“Of course I did,” you whisper in a hushed hiss into the mouthpiece, “Or I would've carved out your eye, split your face with my blade, or simply killed you to prove my loyalty to the assassin's guild for the celestial dragons.” Your dark confession raises a hum from the other end of the call.

“You 'did'? Does that mean you no longer feel for me?” you shake your head and glance up at the ceiling. He sniffs, his heart pouring out to you over the transceiver with each passing moment.

“I-...” you began, reopening your eyes and sighing in exasperation, “...You know I do, Dof. That's why I've taken out each person who's presented me with a contract to kill you.” He swoons, his voice crying for you in a keening mewl.

“My guardian angel protects me as I still draw breath?” his tears spill with each hushed whisper, “Even though you're prevented from being with me, our love was never sanctioned, and our world's far distant from one another. You still love me even now, don't you?”

Emotion began to well in your chest, springing up like a forgotten fount being pumped at a rusty, iron piston. You bite back your sorrow, feeling it overcome you with grief.

“Of course I do, Dof,” you admit into the transponder. Your heart soars for him before you remember the state he decided to call you in. Shaking your head, you bite back your emotion and ask him, “Will you still love me in the morning?”

After taking a moment to collect himself, Doflamingo sniffed back his sorrow and confessed to you.

“I will love you all mornings until my eyes close in their eternal slumber,” he whispered his dark confession, “Each day the sun rises, I will love you. And for each day the light disappears on the horizon, I will mourn for you as I remain alone in my love without you beside me.”

Sighing and shaking your head, you close your eyes as your heart splits in two at his confession. Clapping your palm over your lips, you refuse to allow him the luxury of knowing he'd moved you so easily with such pretty words.

You, a hardened assassin made to prove your devotion by attempting to kill Donquixote Doflamingo for the Celestial Dragons as their prize jewel in their vast treasury. He survived your attack, the dragons understanding that his healers were some of the best available and not questioning his survival when you presented them with your soiled blade and somber expression. They found it entertaining to have someone like you in their armada.

Their forgiveness came as a double edged blade: you were their preferred contract killer and were to live a life of luxury, and you in turn were to never return to your old life as a bounty hunter for someone as lowly as a Vice-Admiral. You were welcomed into Marijoa with opened arms and granted a title amongst the menagerie.

Doflamingo was a hindrance, and your love for him was depicted as weakness. Stabbing him was the easiest way to part from both of those inhibitions. The heart was an easy choice, considering how it broke yours to make such a terrible decision.

“You still there, my love?” Doflamingo's voice echoed within the transponder, breaking you away from your reflection.

“Always,” you respond in kind, closing your eyes and focusing on his words. His breathing was labored, his soft groans and cries for you coming across in each breath.

“Come to me?” he whispered to you, his heart in every cracked syllable as he coaxed you to come closer with his beckoning cry. “I want to see you. Please come to me?”

“We both know I can't,” you utter in return, “My face is too recognisable these days, and my reputation as an assassin for the celestial dragons has the seas part for me as welcome.” He groaned for you, his heart in every gruff whine.

“But do you want to?” he whispered, “That's all I want to know. Do you want to see me? To be with me? To lay beside me and watch the clouds with me?” You press your head back into the pillow and stifle a soft sob for him.

“Of course I do,” you utter in return, “I love you, Doflamingo. Never doubt that.” He whimpered in the mouthpiece, prompting you to shake your head and utter, “As always, if you remember any of this conversation. I'll be waiting.”

At that final word, you hung up the receiver and ended the call between you. The calls were getting more frequent, his drunkenness prompting his sloppiness and desperation between every call. Slouching back into your bed, you wait for sleep to claim you back into its arms.

That slumber never comes, reflecting in turn the call that you never received from Donquixote Doflamingo. No matter how many times he calls you while drunk on whatever fluid of choice of the evening, his call once sober never arrives.

As you prepare your coffee in the morning, your sleeplessness provoking you to make a greater caffeine to liquid ratio, your Den-Den roars to life in its soft, frog-like, chirp. Expecting one of your superiors, you almost drop your earpiece as an all too familiar voice purrs at you.

“Are you still waiting, my love?” Doflamingo asks you, his breath halting in his chest as he anticipates your answer, “I-... I meant every word. Every syllable. Every breath,” his voice crackles in the snail distorts his voice briefly, “As promised, I still love you in the morning. All that remains is one question.”

You suck in a soft breath, waiting to hear his words as you grip the handle of your coffee cup further.

“Do you still love me in return?”

[bones4thecats]

hi, if it's not a problem I would like to make a request with Jamil, during his overblot he plays Kalim, Grim and the octanaville trio in the desert but he stayed with y/n because he had feelings for her, and she also had feelings for Jamil , then Jamil in his overblot state adoring and spoiling y/n, and her treating Jamil like a king

OB! Jamil Keeping Crush! S/O Around

Type of Writing: Request Character: Jamil Viper Name: OB! Jamil Keeping Crush! S/O Around Requester: @marinahavik

A/N: This is my first request written in quite a while. I do hope you like this!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐍 As a fellow member of Scarabia, you were close to both the housewarden of your dorm and your vice-housewarden

🐍 Jamil and you had a very unusual bond, he just seemed so off too you. But that didn't stop you from admiring him

🐍 Because of how much you admired him and began to help around Scarabia with his work to watch over Kalim, everyone swears that was the one thing keeping him from overblotting sooner

🐍 When you walked inside Scarabia with Yuu, Grim, and the renowned Octavinelle trio, you were fearful, were they right? Was Jamil really hypnotizing your dorm members, even Kalim?

🐍 You were there when the tweels helped reveal his true side, and when he yelled about how much he hated Kalim, you were scared when he looked at you and scoffed

" And you... what a joke. You believe to be featured with that magicless human will make you special? When you're already special enough?! You're about as oblivious to my feelings as him! "

🐍 Staring at him in shock, you were scared, why was there ink coming out from him?! And why was the rest of the dorm acting so weird?!

🐍 Glaring as your fellow dorm members began to obey as if they were being mind controlled, you looked back at your group, only to realize that they were gone

" Kalim? Azul? Jade, Floyd? Yuu, Grim?! "

🐍 The sounds of cackles erupted from the now dark-lounge, your mind went blank at the sight of your old friend

" You really trust those imbeciles, don't you? Come now, my dear. When will you gain the knowledge that I am all that you need... not those blundering fools. "

🐍 You looked into the red mist, making out a familiar shape, it was Jamil. But, at the same time, it wasn't him...

🐍 He looked so much different, black markings all around his face with a large turban hat, a long dress-like robe that was scattered at the bottom with the hat connecting down into a familiarly-made cape. And his long hair grew out into long black snakes

🐍 Jamil looked horrifying, yet somehow still attractive

🐍 Oh no! Why in the name of the Great Seven were you thinking about that?! The guy literally overblotted in front of you, he's beyond dangerous at the moment

" Well, well, well, you seem to be flustered, dearest. Do you perhaps like this form of me? All ragged and not being held back by a measly rich heir? " " Uhm- "

🐍 You tried to yell out a loud help, but you were only met by the sound of chains wrapping around your wrists and pulling you towards the man you would daydream about being with

🐍 He smirked and grabbed your chin, holding your head to look towards him, amusement was growing in his eyes as you blushed and pulled your face away, you knew you should be feeling disgust, and you wanted too. But... you just couldn't...

" Oh... did you really want a mere servant like what I used to be? You don't want power to be by your side? Here; "

🐍 With those words, Jamil summoned a small crown with red feathers around the bottom and a large red jewel standing in the middle;

" How about you serve alongside me? Like a Sultan and his Sultana? "

🐍 You gritted your teeth, you wanted Jamil, not this freakazoid. He would never try forcing you into this kind of situation!

" Fuck off! I like the Jamil I once knew, not this crazed lunatic! " " A lunatic you say? Why you little- " " Jamil! That is enough! "

🐍 Turning around in shock, that was when you noticed your friends had finally made it back to the dorm. And, in a moment of bravery, you leaped into a backflip that you learned from the former-vice and gritted your teeth as your group ran up to you to help you out of the chains

" If you lay a hand on them, I'll make sure you will never escape that burning desert, you damned pricks! " " Jade, get back into the fight... they need you... " " Y/N, you also need help. " " I will be fine, just go! "

🐍 And with that, the tweel jumped into action alongside his allies while you leaned against a wall and passed out

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

🐍 The next thing you knew, you had awoken in the medical ward, hearing the low sobs of a male's, you turned around and saw the familiar hairdo of your favorite Scarabia member

" Jamil? "

🐍 He turned around in shock and away in a matter of seconds, he obviously didn't want you to see him in such a week state

" Jamil, just know, I do forgive you. You were under a lot of stress and you just wanted to be yourself for a change. But. "

🐍 Jamil stiffened as he whipped his tears from his eyes, his grey eyes pooling into your (E/C) ones as he cocked an eyebrow, interested in what you had to say

" That doesn't make up for what you did to our dorm. I may forgive you, but you must gain the trust of everyone else once again. I swear I will help you there, though. " " Why? I mean- I tried to force you into a relationship! You shouldn't even try forgiving me! " " Because... I love you. "

🐍 His eyes widened as a small smile emerged on his face while a small blush also appeared

" I love you as well, Rohi... "

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Do You Need to Know Right Now?

Hello beautiful people. Happy Monday! Today is special because this will be my first fully intuitive PAC reading, meaning no cards just vibes lmao. This week Friday, I am having yet another Five Dollar Friday Sale so stay tuned in for that! Without further ado, please select the image that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You need to learn how to surrender to the Divine. I heard “the choice is yours”. Whatever major decision you’ve been contemplating on will ultimately be up for you to decide. You choose your own destiny but you don’t have to know all the steps/details of getting there. Have some confidence in your journey. Everything will be alright. This is for some of you, if you are a business owner or your love language is acts of service, you need to learn how to say no. Turning your services down to people who don’t deserve it is okay to do. All money isn’t good money. As you try to make a name for yourself, lean into your gut feelings. Don’t navigate through this world by being willfully naive. You know more than most. Some of you may have been encountering shady characters. I am channeling the energy of Douda from The Chi; very Devil-like, King of Cups (RX) type of energy. A lot of you have been dealing with two-faced men within the past two years but I am seeing a door shutting in someone’s face in my third eye. You are going to start walking away from people/places/things that no longer serve you. This newfound courage will result in long-term abundance and prosperity. Don’t be afraid to start over. Out with the old, in with the new, babe!

extras: jenifer lewis. “candace/candy”. florist. unable to wink. listening to whitney houston. weather forecast. “maurice/morris”. feeling underestimated. desperate housewives. fearful. cotton candy. yes indeed (2018). cold at night. arm wrestling champ. loose cannon.

Pile Two: I feel like you are going through some physical changes. You could be pregnant, soon-to-be moving, upgrading your furniture, painting your house, learning how to do makeup to be an MUA, etc. You could be doing multiple things at once right now. Your ability to shift from one gig to another is admirable. You’re very versatile. You’re an independent person but you should know that you don’t have to carry the work alone. You have people around you that are willing to help and nurture your talents and skills. The car you drive was created because of team effort. The food you eat is consumable because of a team! The books you read were not solely published because of the author, but because there was a team behind them! Nobody is truly by themselves, honey! Allow people to experience your energy. I feel like it took a long time for you to be this comfortable with yourself. But ultimately, you are human and you need people around you! You will know who your people are when you get around them.

extras: diana/deana. red flags. movie theatre. drug major. oomf. cheese lover. movement. smokey. black eyed peas. rice & peas. red nails. classic manicure. turning 30/milestone birthday.

Pile Three: I feel like you’re guarding your energy right now, Pile Three. You’ve been caved in with your lover, lol. I didn’t mean for this to turn into a love reading but heyyyy, I see you! :). Your union was not supposed to last as long as it has on the surface but it did. I am sensing that it was originally a one night stand or a summer fling. However, it was divinely orchestrated to be that way. I am seeing those Pinterest drawings of soulmates in my third eye. This person is someone you’re aligned with on a soul level; this is karmic. However, karmic ≠ codependent. Make sure that you have your own life outside of this person. This person does have all eyes on you and vice versa. I can tell that the passion is mutual. If you are planning to go on a vacation with this person soon, expect a promotion in your relationship to happen. This promotion could be an engagement/wedding, moving in together, meeting the family, etc. I see you two eating slices of fruit on the beach, feeding one another while smiling and giggling amongst each other. This is a lovely connection thus far. I also see you being spoiled with gifts of your choice. This person is a gift giver for sure, along with wanting to spend quality time with you! However, this is just the beginning. Ground yourself in the present moment. Savor and soak up every waking day with this person.

extras: montgomery, alabama. jason/justin. sam. cartier glasses. fake ID. retribution. academy. pork. glamorous. marjorie. fake gym rat. attracted to pheromones. high achiever. monie/monet. kansas.

Pile Four: This is for a few of you, but some of you could have known someone that was recently released from jail/mental health facility/nursing home. You could be their caregiver/keeper. Others of you have family members/a partner that are financially dependent on you. I know that you feel burdened by this. Both the financial burden and the mental burden can be frustrating. I do see your situation improving. Someone is lightening the load. I feel like you are going to receive extra support, specifically from another woman. She is going to offer help & it will no longer be a job carried by one person. Whoever this is, they have been in your position before so you don’t have to worry about being pitied or feeling lesser than her. Another thing is that you should definitely get started on your laundry. I feel like you are going through a bout of depression right now. Start off with the small tasks first then do the big things. You need to take your time & be patient with yourself.

extras: air jordan’s. new microwave. corn on the cob. jogging. morph. telling stories. future focused. gold rings. coffee. marlboro. notre dame. golden shepard.

[physics-of-one-piece]

I am done bottling up this story, I gotta talk about it bcs I'm so happy with it, I'm obsessed with it.

So that Rosinante x Reader x Doflamingo fic where Reader is Rosinante's wife is called...

Drums pls

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

I’ll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother)

Part 1 is all about Rosinante x Reader (& Law my bby boy 🥹🥺), Part 2 which is all about Doflamingo x Reader might turn into another part cus I want to cover the pre-baby and then post-baby and I don't think with all the ideas I have one part will be enough.

I like to call this fic “Doflamingo takes Rosinante's wife and baby as his own because he is the older one and Rosinante is dead anyway but damn what a sick thing to do but also really fits Doffy, good luck, girl, you're stuck with the terrible brother” or “Doflamingo trauma dumps to Reader and attempts to gaslight Reader”

The amount of times I said "THIS PINK BITCH 😡😡🤬🤬" while writing Part 2 is INSANE. HOLY FUCK HE DESERVES TO BE THROWN INTO THE SEA. LET THE SEA KINGS EAT HIM, HOLY FUCK THIS PINK BASTARD.

Anyway, here is a snippet of one of the scenes 😊

“You know, Tsuru-san…” said Doflamingo casually as he strutted to the window, grabbing his large pink feather coat from the hanger, swinging it over his broad shoulders as he went. He placed his right foot atop the windowsill; the sound of his shoe landing on it resounded in your ears ominously.  With the saw-like, terrible sound of his strings, he pulled open the window, letting in the fresh spring breeze. You smelled the cherry blossoms in the distance. He turned from the window toward Vice Admiral Tsuru, a large grin on his face. “One day I’ll be the one kicking you marines out,” said Doflamingo darkly, smiling at Tsuru, the expression sharp and promising. Vice Admiral Tsuru looked incredibly bored by the implication. “You don’t have that kind of power, even as a warlord.” said Tsuru, staring back at him, unafraid. “We’ll see, dear Tsuru,” mused Doflamingo, chuckling, offering another unnerving smile before saying, “After all, what can a marine do against a god?” Your blood ran cold. You felt your stomach clench in fear. Despite his eyes being concealed behind his sunglasses, you felt his gaze shift to you at the same time as he turned to face you, and you fought back a shiver. “See you next weekend, querida.” said Doflamingo, and smiled at you. The curl of his lips was soft, the grin of pearly white teeth charming and pleasant, the dimples on his cheeks more gentle than the ones present in the smile he’d aimed at Vice Admiral Tsuru.  Even his deep voice sounded impossibly softer. Doflamingo didn’t look frightening in that moment at all. He looked quite charming and handsome, like some divine being offering you the rarest of blessings. You decided not to think about the fact you could now read his emotions by his smiles. In a flutter of pink feathers, Doflamingo leapt off of your windowsill. You saw the gleam of his strings in the sunlight as he unwound them from his fingers, attaching them to the clouds, using them to soar forward over the bay of Marineford, the blur of his pink figure reflected on the surface of the sea. After glancing down at it, you realised the bracelet of white-pink pearls Doflamingo had crafted you had the exact same pearls as the necklace of red pearls he wore around his neck. You watched the pink little cloud of Doflamingo grow farther and farther away, becoming smaller and smaller against the canvas of endless blue. You stepped away from the window, and hoped the sky next weekend would be cloudless.  A woman can hope.

The Doffy smile that flashes across my mind for the scene where he says bye is the one from this manga panel:

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

[whencyclopedia]

The Origins of British Pub Names

Pubs remain a prominent feature of the rural and urban landscapes of Britain, but their names very often date back to medieval times. Red lions, white horses, and colourful characters peer from pub signs as landlords choose names to represent local history, legends, landmarks, national figures, or simply imply their drinking establishment has a long and prestigious heritage.

This article presents the meaning behind some of the most common pub names seen across Britain from Penzance to the Hebrides. According to The Wordsworth Dictionary of Pub Names, there were over 50,000 pubs in Britain at the beginning of the 21st century. The same source identifies the top 20 pub names. Red Lion, Crown, and Royal Oak are the top three, then (in alphabetical order) Anchor, Angel, Bell, Bull, Coach & Horses, George, George & Dragon, King's Head, Nelson, New Inn, Plough, Railway, Rose & Crown, Swan, Duke of Wellington, White Hart, and White Horse (269). As the appeal of pubs and inns has widened to other countries, many of the traditional British pub names can be seen today around the world from New York to Melbourne.

English Pub Signs

Mark Cartwright (CC BY-NC-SA)

The pub names below have been selected because they are especially common, their meaning is obscure, or the history behind them is of particular interest. Self-explanatory but, nevertheless, very common names such as Hop & Grape, Jolly Sailors, or Duke of Marlborough are omitted for want of space. As shall be seen, many variations of a name are possible, even in broad meaning, but a local would always have known the precise significance of their pub's name since, from the late Middle Ages until the mid-19th century, when most of the population was illiterate, it was the pub's sign which gave the establishment its name (and not vice-versa, as is usually the case today). Pub signs, which were made obligatory by a 1393 law, can take the form of a painting, a representation in wrought iron, a three-dimensional model, or even a weather-worn example of the object itself.

Anchor

The name Anchor is, naturally, most popular by the coast where fishing traditions are strongest. However, the name was also common for pubs near canals, particularly overnight stops for barges carrying goods such as coal and wine between towns and cities. The name can be qualified by all sorts of adjectives related to seafaring such as Foul Anchor (used to rescue a ship in distress), Sheet Anchor (a ship's largest and most reliable anchor), and Raffled Anchor (an entangled anchor). For extra cachet, the name might be upgraded to Royal Anchor. A lesser-known significance of the name is when it is used in reference to Saint Paul who, in the Bible, mentions that faith is like an anchor and gives hope, hence the pub name Anchor of Hope. As the colour blue is symbolic of hope, pub signs for this name very often depict a blue anchor. Finally, there is the common variation Crown & Anchor, which refers to the arms of the Lord High Admiral and the badge of petty officers in the Royal Navy.

Continue reading...

[bottlepiecemuses]

One Big Fuck Up!

So nope no adventures in Elbaf for our admirals and Saturd.

[aimeedaisies]

King pays tribute to ‘heroism and sacrifice’ to mark 80 years since Arnhem

Monarch’s words spoken by the Princess Royal to remember troops who fought in Operation Market Garden

21 September 2024 5:57pm

The Princess Royal is representing the King at the Arnhem anniversary events PA/Ben Birchall

The King has said the “heroism and sacrifice made by so many in the pursuit of peace” will never be forgotten as the 80th anniversary of a famous Second World War operation was commemorated.

The King’s words were spoken by the Princess Royal, representing the King at events this weekend marking the efforts of troops who in 1944 fought in Operation Market Garden, with the bold aim of ending the war that year.

The Princess, joined by her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, delivered her brother’s speech at a reception staged at the Airborne Museum Hartenstein in Oosterbeek, the Netherlands.

It is a former hotel that served as the headquarters of the British 1st Airborne Division during the Battle of Arnhem, part of the operation that aimed to push through the Netherlands and into Germany just a few months after the D-Day landings.

The Princess met Geoff Roberts, 99, believed to be the only British soldier to travel to Arnhem for the commemorations this year PA/Ben Birchall

The Princess said on behalf of the King: “Eighty years ago, on this very weekend, Operation Market Garden was under way in this region of the Netherlands.

“An ambitious joint airborne and ground forces operation designed to seize crucial bridges to enable the advance into Germany, its ultimate aim was to end the war within a matter of months.

“The friendships made during those difficult days of September 1944 between the Dutch and their liberators continued after the war.”

“I saw this for myself five years ago when, as Colonel in Chief of the Parachute Regiment, I attended the 75th anniversary commemorations.”

The Princess met Geoff Roberts, 99, believed to be the only British soldier to travel to Arnhem for the commemorations this year.

Mr Roberts flew by glider into Arnhem during Operation Market Garden but was captured as the Allies retreated after their efforts. Immortalised in the film A Bridge Too Far, the Allies were thwarted by strong resistance from Nazi troops, and he spent the rest of the war in a German prisoner of war camp.

The Princess Royal watches a fly-by at the Airborne Museum Hartenstein in Oosterbeek, Netherlands PA/Ben Birchall

The Princess continued the King’s speech, saying: “Tragically, despite the endless courage of all those who served in an operation whose renown echoes through the generations, the Netherlands had one more terrible winter to suffer before liberation finally arrived.

“Today, on this 80th anniversary, it is with a deep sense of gratitude and humility that we remember all those in the British, Allied and Commonwealth forces who served and died fighting for our freedom.

“Let us also remember those magnificently courageous members of the Dutch resistance and gallant civilians who endured so much during the Second World War.

“We will never forget the heroism and sacrifice made by so many in the pursuit of peace and liberation. My wife joins me in sending the warmest possible good wishes to all those taking part in this weekend of commemoration.”

On Sunday, the Princess, in her role as president of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, will attend the annual service marking the operation’s 80th anniversary at Oosterbeek Airborne Cemetery.

She will join around a thousand guests and will read a lesson and lay a wreath at the foot of the Cross of Sacrifice.

Earlier, paratroopers from eight Nato member countries, including the UK, the USA, Portugal and Spain, parachuted from 12 aircraft into Ginkel Heath, a nature reserve near the Dutch town of Ede.

Some 700 paratroopers took part in the jump, including the Red Devils, the British Army’s freefall parachute display team, as part of the commemoration of the Battle of Arnhem.

Turned into defensive battle

Among those to parachute into the occupied Netherlands were 1,900 allied airborne soldiers from Britain’s 4th Parachute Brigade.

The plan involved seizing key bridges with a combination of airborne and land forces.

But the airborne forces’ landing zones were around nine miles from the bridge at Arnhem, losing them the element of surprise and giving the German troops time to build blockades.

While the operation succeeded in capturing the Dutch cities of Eindhoven and Nijmegen, it failed in its key objective: securing the bridge over the Rhine at Arnhem.

A defensive battle was fought, which saw nine days of prolonged street fighting, until the order to withdraw was given on Sept 25.

More than 8,000 British soldiers were killed, missing or captured in the offensive.

[artedimichelangelo]

Can I please request a headcanon/imagine for HOTD where rhaenyra & daemon take an interested in the reader? You’re the best!!!

Daemon Targaryen x Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen - Headcanons

Author's Note: Hii! Thanks for your request, I really appreciate it! Also I hope you like it!

While I'm at it, I'm completing the other request on Jaime Lannister, just so you all know. Thanks again everyone for the comments and for the interactions in general, it means a lot to me.

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x Reader (only use of "you") x Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Warnings: English is NOT my first language; possible grammatical errors; not proofread; fluff.

You are Rhaenyra and Daemon’s messenger and bring news from King's Landing and, most importantly, from the Red Keep. These news varied from possible plots by the Greens against Rhaenyra, the rightful heir to the throne, to what goes on in the common streets and what the citizens whisper among themselves.

At first, the princess and her husband did not pay much heed to you, but when Rhaenyra began to ask you questions in such a way as to keep her company before you could return to your humble quarters, and eventually coming late into the evening to tell her about your travels and engage in long conversations, everything changed.

If before you had their curiosity, now you had their undivided attention. When you expressed yourself with such elegance and immense respect, and showed your infinite devotion to them, you became their main interest.

Daemon and Rhaenyra did not care about the social class you came from, and so they treated you as their equal. Furthermore, they decided to have a chamber prepared inside the castle at Dragonstone, exclusively for you, and to have it furnished as if a Queen were to stay inside.

It was unbelievable, an almost idyllic situation and because of that you felt as if you did not belong there, you had even tried to make it known to the two Targaryens that you were not worthy of such generous treatment. Yet they silenced you with the usual "Anything for someone as exquisite as you."

After some time you became part of their family, not so much as their child or sibling. No. They had reserved a special kind of care for you.

Daemon and Rhaenyra admired your modesty and honesty, and melted at the sight of your fragile and sweet manners when you were in their presence and under their attentive and penetrating gaze.

Wherever they moved, you followed them and vice versa, like shadows. Anyone who saw you knew that the three of you always roamed the corridors of Dragonstone together; being apart was never in the cards. You were connected to each other like the scales of a dragon.

Every evening, before the fireplace, Daemon would beg you to tell one of your fantastic stories to him and the princess, whether they were real tales, legends or myths, it did not matter much in the end, for either way they felt complete peace as your voice almost cradled them.

Rhaenyra particularly loved braiding your hair, it was such an intimate gesture between you two, meanwhile Daemon fiddled with the material of your nightgown, his eyes completely fixed on the details of your body revealing beneath that thin fabric.

Those were your favourite moments, especially because you were not surrounded by insincere people or judgmental stares.

Often after your tales you felt a certain calmness and your eyes were heavy, especially under your Queen's tender touch, which is why Daemon would take you in his arms and carry you carefully to their bed, where you often spent the nights. But they would not leave you alone. No. They would lie beside you and hold you in their arms, as if you were the most precious treasure in the Seven Kingdoms. But then again, to them you were.

[akhret]

Clothing Rituals

This type of ritual was performed daily, monthly, for special occasions, or it was done annually for the New Year in Ancient Egypt- this largely depended on the temple and the time period. They have been attested dating back to the Old Kingdom and lasted until Ptolemaic times. From the Abusir papyrus that was found in royal funerary temples- specifically from pharaohs Neferirkare and Raneferef, we can see that these rituals were done monthly; however, the deity of the temple was the deceased king. In later times, this ritual was performed daily for the main gods in the temple. What we do know from this type of ritual is best explained in pBerlin 3014, pBerlin 3053 and pBerlin 3055 (which is dated to the 22nd dynasty), along with the temple of Seti I in Abydos and Ptolemaic temples.

In the morning, the ba was reawoken for the god by unveiling them from the night before. You would say your admiration of the god with a prayer or hymn before washing off the mD.t unguent and undressing it from the mnH.t cloth. The mD.t unguent and the mnH.t cloth is speculated to help with regeneration and renewal. The mnH.t cloth was commonly “depicted as one or two stripes of cloth folded in half and often referred to as four-coloured cloths- white, green, red and blue (or dark-red). Each of these colours had its own symbolic meaning connected with protection, health, fertility, regeneration and renewal” (The Clothing Rite, 66). Next, the statue was then purified with natron and incense (perhaps myrrh, frankincense, or palmonia resin) before it was redressed in clean mnH.t cloth. The mD.t unguent was reapplied to the statue, along with green and black paints. Next, formal clothing was adorned to the statue, along with jewelry and pectorals before, lastly, the final purification and fumigation took place.

How can you implement this into your practice?

Based off of the steps known from ancient practices in temples of Egypt, it is possible to do a daily rite with this, if you choose, or on days when you want to go to your own shrine.

First, find a place for your statues so they won’t get damaged. Find a good piece of cloth, preferably linen to conceal the statues when they’re not at the forefront of your practice. When they’re not in the forefront of your practice veil the statue.

Unveil the deity’s statue.

Next, invoke the deity along with saying or singing a prayer/hymn.

Third, use natron to help purify and light some incense. You could use something universal like myrrh and frankincense or your could use UPG and choose the one you think they would like best.

Fourth, dress the deity in some new cloth and annoint the statue. I cannot find anything about mD.t ungunet at this time but you could use something that you’ve dedicated to just them- whether you make your own oil or purchase it.

Fifth, add on the regelia and jewelry. While this step isn’t always possible for everybody, I will add it. You could get Barbie jewelry to add or you could make your own to size. You could repaint on the makeup if you choose, as well.

Lastly, the final purification and fumigation. Relight your incense. This one should be more specific to cleansing.

Sources:

Coppens, Filip. Vymazalová, Hana. “Linen for the God: The Interpretation of Old Kingdom Clothing Rites in the Light of First Millennium BC Rituals (and vice versa).” 2016. https://academia.edu/resource/work/37212908

Coppens, Filip. Vymazalová, Hana. “The Clothing Rite in the Royal Temples of Abusir.” 2009. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/291332482_The_clothing_rite_in_the_temples_of_Abusir

Sharpe, Samual. “The Rosetta Stone in Hieroglyphics and Greek Translations. 1807. https://www.ganino.com/anteanus/scripturam_aegyptium_rosetta_stone

[mimisempai]

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you

Summary

Crowley awakens on Aziraphale, who is weaving a wreath of autumn leaves. The angel's words and deeds are even sweeter and more sappy than usual, and strangely, Crowley feels no shame in tasting this sweetness. When dreams resemble reality, or vice versa...

Notes

Day 13 : Dream

Absolutely not ashamed about the amount of sugar here…

On Ao3

Rating G -  973 words

Crowley fell asleep with the warmth of Aziraphale's arms around him and awoke to the warmth of a sunbeam on his face. 

He opened his eyes, blinking several times in the bright light, and as his eyes adjusted, he saw a sea of tree leaves all around him, ranging in color from yellow to bright red. 

The leaves formed a soft, comfortable carpet beneath the demon.

Now that he could see, he noticed Aziraphale sitting on a rock in front of him, seemingly concentrating on something.

Crowley smiled and called softly, "Angel? What are you doing over there?"

Aziraphale smiled back and Crowley saw he was holding something. He moved closer and could now see that it was like a flower crown, except that it was made of the leaves that surrounded them.

He asked quietly, "Who are you going to crown like this?"

"You, of course. You are my king after all." 

Aziraphale tied the last strand of the crown, then knelt before Crowley and gently placed it on the hair of the demon, who strangely felt no inclination to protest either the crown or Aziraphale's words.

Aziraphale brushed back a few hairs that didn't fit under the crown, then removed the demon's glasses and placed them beside them.

He moved back and said, his voice full of admiration, "There. Perfect."

Crowley thought he should be used to the tenderness and devotion Aziraphale showed him. But he didn't want to get used to it; he somehow loved the way Aziraphale's compliments made him melt like no one else in the world, and he wanted to feel that way until the end of time. 

Ignoring the slight embarrassment he felt, Crowley selected a small amber leaf, approached the angel, and tucked it behind his ear.

Aziraphale laughed softly and asked, "How do I look?"

Crowley brought his face close to hers and whispered against her lips, "You look lovely and I want to kiss you."

The angel replied with a mischievous little smile on his lips, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Obviously, Crowley couldn't ignore such a challenge, and closing the tiny distance between them, he planted a tender kiss on the angel's lips. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his neck and held him close, preventing their lips from parting as the demon tried to pull away. The tender kiss lingered for a few moments. 

Then, as they parted, Crowley buried his face in the angel's neck and breathed in, intoxicated by his angel's fragrance mingled with that of the autumn around them. 

He murmured softly against the angel's skin, "If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up."

He felt Aziraphale press a kiss to his hair and the angel asked, "Why not? Don't you like reality?"

Crowley shook his head and replied, "It's not that. But everything seems so simple here. Even accepting this kind of silliness. I mean, Angel, I wear a fucking crown of autumn leaves on my head, you call me your king, and I'm not even embarrassed. It's just inconceivable that the real me would accept it like that. It must be a dream."

Aziraphale murmured against his hair, "You'll have to open your eyes to find out, my dear."

Crowley lifted his head and asked, confused, "What do you mean, Angel?"

Aziraphale replied softly, "Open your eyes, Crowley."

Crowley suddenly opened his eyes to find himself once again surrounded by a sea of colorful leaves, but this time with the blue of the sky mixed in.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw first the sky, then the branches of the trees, and finally the face of Azirapahle, smiling down at him and tickling the tip of his nose with a small amber leaf. The same one he'd tucked behind the angel's ear in his dream.

Crowley, still a little confused, asked, "Am I awake?"

Aziraphale laughed slightly and replied, "Do I have to pinch you to confirm?"

The angel gently pinched his cheek.

"Hey, Angel!"

"See, my dear, you're wide awake."

Crowley straightened up a little and sat next to the angel, noticing a wreath of dead leaves on his lap

He couldn't help but gasp slightly and asked, "Angel... who is this wreath for?"

Aziraphale replied softly, as in his dream, "For you, of course, you're my king."

Crowley replied, "Angel... do you..."

The angel tilted his head and asked, "Do I what?"

Crowley remembered his dream.

"I mean, Angel, I wear a fucking crown of autumn leaves on my head, you call me your king, and I'm not even embarrassed. It's just inconceivable that the real me would accept it like that. It must be a dream."

"You'll have to open your eyes to find out, my dear."

He realized that he could now choose to protest, because he was a demon, because he wouldn't make a fool of himself wearing such a thing, because he was nobody's king.

Or maybe.

He could just accept this moment. 

It wouldn't make him any different.

He could just be a person in love, accepting the sappiness of the one he loves. Just like in his dream.

So he said nothing, just bowed his head in the direction of the angel who gently placed the crown on his hair.

Then Aziraphale took his chin and made him raise his head.

At that moment, reality took over from the dream as the angel pressed his lips to the demon's.

After a lingering kiss, Aziraphale stepped back a little and said softly, "Thank you for indulging me," as if he knew the demon's inner struggle. And he probably did.

Crowley, seeing his Angel's adoring smile at that moment, told himself that reality was definitely much better than the dream and simply captured his Angel's lips in return.

Yes, it was so much better.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)