#santa teresa feelings

[miedkha]

Em alguma borda do mundo

#rj garden #santa teresa feelings #solitudes

[windrush-child]

You’re right for me, Ecstasy (one shot)

Reader x Lewis. 3.4k words. Smut.

Lewis Hamilton falls for a grid girl. Things don’t go well. Luckily, fate has a fable for second chances. Unreliable narrator cuz we’re messy like that. Thanks for the prompt ideas anons. Title inspired by the weeknd’s Don’t Break My Heart.

Warnings - Hate sex and highly questionable morals.

Rio de Janeiro. A mild November day. When you see him standing in the middle of the street, you have to do a double take. The tray with empty mugs nearly slips from your hands as the realisation hits. He caught your eye as soon as he turned round the corner with his friends (or security guards, maybe?), chatting in a language that seems so out of place. The simple black turtleneck and jeans make him look almost inconspicuous, if it weren't for the delicate pearl necklace that rests on top of his collarbones. Few people would know he's a famed racing driver if they ran into him on any random weekday like this. The worst thing, though? He saw you, too. He's also stopped talking to his friends, peeking over as if he's thinking, is it really her?, reluctant. And now, he's walking over. Shit. It feels like your feet have frozen to the ground. This can't be real. What the hell is he doing up here, out of all bloody places in the world? How did he, nearly one year down the line, end up in front of the small, unassuming Café you work at, in a small, unassuming backstreet of Santa Teresa?

"Hey" Begrudgingly, you look up. Big, brown eyes before you, a cautious smile, and the familiar smell of his cologne which strikes you in the most painful way possible. Where has your voice gone? "Good morning," you say, dryly, trying to sound like he's just another customer on just another day. Hoping he can't hear how he's sucker-punched the air out of you with only a word. Lewis shifts from one foot to the other. "I wasn't sure whether it was you at first," he says, attempting half a smile. You can feel his gaze all over your skin. "It's, uhm.. it's good to see you again. How've you been?" You press your lips together, can't bring yourself to say the same. "I'm doing alright," you respond, slowly wiping the table surface so you don't have to look him in the eye. Lewis draws in a breath. "Do you work at this place?" he asks. What a stupid question. "Looks like it," you answer, dumping the rag on the tray. You should be taking your lunch break right now, can't really pretend to be busy either when there's just a single old man at a table in the corner. "I've been working here for most of the semester. Money's tight, you know." "Right." He nods to himself, eyes on the ground before he looks back up. "So... you're still at university, then?" he adds, a graceless attempt at small talk. It's so unlike him to be this clumsy, it almost catches you off guard. You grab the pack of cigarrettes from the counter behind you when you're done cleaning up, pull one out and stick it between your lips. "I am," you mumble as you step further out into the street, desperate to create a safe distance between you and the man. He shoudn't be here. You shouldn't be talking to him. "What are you doing up here, anyway?" you ask as you light the cig. "Oh, you know, different things." he starts, "A friend is showing me around some places in the city today. And I also have a race on Sunday." "Busy as ever," you interrupt, a hint of bitterness in your voice that you hope went over his head. Don't start, now. Lewis makes an Mhm sound, both hands in the pockets of his trousers as if he doesn't know what else to do with them. "I thought you stopped?" he says, offhandedly. It takes you a moment to realise he's looking at the cigarette between your fingers. You could take this as an attempt to have a normal, non-threatening conversation. A first, cautious step into mending the broken pieces of your whatever-ship. You could ask him an equally innocuous question, or just make up an excuse to get out of the situation. You choose to be petty instead. "So what?" you shrug, blowing smoke. "It's not your business, really." Lewis rolls his lips, looks like he wants to chuckle. "I see." Just when you think he'll finally leave, he hesitates once more. "By the way," he says, "They're still looking for personel at the circuit in São Paulo, for the evenings and such. From what I've heard, they pay very well." You take a long drag of your cigarette. Seems like Lewis hasn't forgotten your career as a grid girl back then. And how could he have? It's the only reason your paths ever crossed.

"Thanks for the tip," you say. Your eyes linger on his back for far too long as he walks away.

—-

São Paulo, Race Day.

You had sworn to yourself that last year was the last time you're doing this. That the glitz and glamour of Formula 1 just wasn't for you. Too many ruthless, absurdly rich men who believed the world belonged to them; and that anything was possible if you just named a price. But when you met Lewis, one fateful evening after a race, he'd seemed like an exception to the rule. He was kind. Didn't treat you like a consumable that was hired for the sole purpose of his entertainment. Most people, even those close to you, would secretly judge you and the other women for "looking pretty for the cash". But Lewis never did. He understood that money didn't grow on trees, and that this was just a means to an end. It was part of the reason why having sex with him felt so liberating, so mindblowing every time. With him, you could be careless, didn't have to worry about the potential stigma. It was the type of sex that would make you cuss and sweat; that had you crying out into the bedsheet while he gave it to you good. The kind that had you holding on to each other for the entire night, and say things that should've never been said out loud. It escalated from a one night stand to two, then countless more when he flew you out to Mexico and COTA the following weeks. Neither of you dared to put a label on it, though, not even when Lewis had made a habit of treating you to dinner on Sundays; not even after the occasional pregnancy scare that turned out to be a false alarm. You were just a grid girl, after all. It was what doomed your little romance to failure in the end. Lewis couldn't handle his jealousy, couldn't stand seeing you around men that weren't him, yet wouldn't commit to you either. Maybe he didn't have the guts to do it. Maybe he lacked respect, and you were just a toy for him to play with till he got bored. In the end, none of it mattered.

The pay is indeed good, you think as you stow the bundle of cash into your bag at the end of the day. One of the other girls, Magalenha is her name, had convinced you earlier to come dancing with her at the after party by the track. The semester has been very draining, so why not have a bit of carefree fun for once? A shower, fresh make up, and a backless sundress is all you need to feel like the night is yours for the taking. Your newly found friend decides you're having a Cosmopolitan, giggles with you as she points at people that clearly can't dance, and three drinks in, she even manages to snap a selfie with a wasted McLaren engineer.

Fate can be such a bitch, however. You're waiting for your Caipirinha at the bar when you spot him on a dance floor. It's the time of the night when the beats get deeper, heavier, and hotter - You can tell. Through the low, purple lights and the haze of liquor in your body, you watch Lewis' tattooed hands, how they slide over a woman's waist from behind, down to her lower back as she grinds on him to the rhythm of the song. He's breathing hard, sweat pearling on his forehead as he pulls her closer by the hips. She smiles when he seems to whisper something into her ear. You turn away. Blood-red in the face. He has to be drunk; disgustingly, shamelessly drunk. When you look up again, just to put the sharp blade to your heart once more, Lewis is staring back at you. Your head is spinning as you dash for the exit of the venue, as quickly as your high heels allow, desperately trying to make yourself believe that this has got nothing to do with him. You're simply walking, no, running back to your hotel because it's time to call it a night - the shameful rush of jealousy isn't real at all, and neither is the bitter ache in your stomach.

"Stop!" Lewis' voice carries through the street, but you keep your eyes straight to the pavement. "Will you hold on!" he says as he catches up to you, trying to grasp your elbow. You smack his hand away. "What, Lewis?" you snap. The venom in your voice nearly makes him jump. "Just leave it, okay? You're causing a fucking scene." To your misfortune, Lewis doesn't listen. "I didn't know you were at the party," he blurts out, almost stumbling over the words. "I didn't do it on purpose, I swear-" You're silently gnashing your teeth as you turn to him, glaring his stupid face up and down. "Fuck- Come here," you say, dragging him along by the fabric of his shirt, through the doors of the hotel lobby. Nobody needs to see you fighting it out on the street. Surprisingly, he follows without protest. Only when the door of your room falls shut with a loud bang, you let go of him. "Alright," you start, tossing your purse to the floor. "Say what you gotta to say, then!" Lewis sighs, runs a hand over his face. He should've drunk less. "It's not... look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings earlier, but-" "You're not hurting my feelings," you scoff, angrily kicking off your heels. "It's been a year, Lewis. I couldn't care less about who you're fucking tonight." He's frowning at first, but then raises his brows. "Oh, you don't care at all?" he says. You don't like that tone in his voice. "Is that why you can't even talk to me normally? You've been ignoring my phone calls for months. Every single message, too." Suddenly, your blood pressure spikes. "So you show up at my job in Rio because you can't take a hint?" you blurt out, impulsively lunging closer. The man has gone completely mad; there's no other way. "Why would you even want to talk to me? You've made it more than clear I wasn't your type." you spit, pure contempt. Lewis huffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know damn well it was never about that." He's trying to sound calm now, but by the tremble in his voice, you can tell the anger is finally getting to him. "You may not have said it-" you return, bluntly pointing a finger at his chest, "But we both know you thought it. You want a good girl, don't you, Lewis? No way you could ever love someone that's beneath you." "Bullshit," he hisses as he grabs your wrist hard, pulls you so close that you see the livid flicker in his eyes. It's almost satisfying. "You were the one that bailed on me 'cause you were scared of your own feelings. You rather kept sleeping around instead of committing to this," Lewis says. You're going to smack him in the face. "Or did you conveniently forget that?" There's hot bile rising in your throat, the awful feeling of knowing he's right. You want to scream at him, call him a stupid asshole. "Because you never even wanted me in the first place!" you yell. "That is not true!" "Then fucking prove it!"

There's silence, until something changes in Lewis' face. All of a sudden, the air inside this room feels too thick. Too warm. He's breathing hard. "Take your dress off," he says. You can feel the rumble of his voice in the pits of your belly - It short-circuits something inside of you. Fuck. You do it. Clammy hands, shaking knees as you peel yourself out of your clothes, skin hot from wrath, but even hotter from the way Lewis is staring you down. When he grabs you by your hips, pulling you into him, your heart stumbles. There's no warning when Lewis pounces on you, lifts your body easily to throw you onto the bed with him. It's not a fair fight, never was as he pins you down under his weight, making you squeal when he wraps a big hand around the base of your throat. "You want me to show you, huh?" he growls and charges at your mouth. You should bite his lip until you draw blood when he kisses you, make him regret ever starting this. Instead, you're moaning as he licks into you, wet and rough and messy, can't stop yourself from grinding up into his body. Oh, he's driving you mad, knows it too when he presses his palm over the soaked spot on your panties. "Shit," he curses when he pulls away, gets his fingers slick as he slips them into your underwear and inside of you, a filthy noise. "Just can't help it, can you?" he taunts, makes you whine when he pushes up into a spot, then again when he suddenly pulls them out. "Fuck you," you say, and Lewis laughs, because there's no bite behind it at all. With how ready you are for him, he knows he's got you in the palm of his hand.

He makes short work of your panties and tosses them to the floor, followed by his own shirt, before you're getting up on your knees to unbuckle his belt. As he stands at the edge of the bed, watching your every move, you make sure to dig your nails into the soft skin of his groin while you're tugging at his briefs. Lewis hisses, a threat of white, sharp teeth. "Behave," he warns, has grabbed a fistful of your curls to get his point across. His cock feels warm and thick as you're holding him in your hand, hardened up and reddened at the tip. By instinct, you wrap your lips around the head, impatiently trying to swallow, whimpering when he hits the back of your throat, too heavy, too big. Lewis controls the pace, pulls you back and forth by your hair, till spit is dripping down your chin, the taste of his arousal pooling on your tongue. Fuck, this is obscene. One more time he takes you, so far down himself that tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, until he pulls out with a harsh groan, wet and throbbing. Lewis tugs at your hair, angles you up so you're looking at him, don't have the choice not to, bulging, strong arms around your body holding you up into his chest, as if to make sure you won't slip away. If someone cut this moment out of marble, right here and now, you'd look like a sculpture of the Renaissance. Such beauty in being at his mercy. His gaze roams over your face, considering you with utmost diligence, the mess on your lips, the heaving breaths you're taking. Under the scrutiny of his eyes, your skin feels like it might burn off. "Have you been sleeping with other men?" "No," you answer, voice thin. It's the truth. He exhales, chest moving with it. "Good," he says.

Lewis sweeps you off your knees, lays you on your back with smooth strength. You want to be ashamed of how easily your legs open for him; of how you grab and pull at his shoulders. But you can't bring yourself to be, not tonight. Your eyes are shut tight when he clutches your hip with one, the base of your throat with the other hand, a cruel, anticipating throb where he lines himself up with your entrance. When he pushes in, you cry out, the stretch blind-siding, too tight. You can feel him everywhere, all at once, gasping when he presses deeper, till he's buried up inside. "Mhm...fuck," you whimper, don't remember him feeling like this. You look up to find Lewis watching you, gaze flickering back and forth between your trembling lips and liquid eyes. He's taking deep, ragged breaths, stays still. "Are you okay?" he asks, voice rough with exertion. He feels like he's going to burst, a tight, hard knot low in his belly. "Yeah…yes, I am" you sigh, reaching out so you can wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and close, and he lets you. He starts rolling his hips into yours, fucks you slowly and thoroughly, makes you fall apart underneath him. The room fills with moans and the sound of your bodies meeting as he takes you, heavy, practiced strokes. Every nerve of yours feels overstimulated with him, with his smell, the strength in his body. You want to cry, tell him you're sorry for breaking his heart, want him to say he's sorry for breaking yours, too, but can't grasp a single thought, not when he's doing this to you. "Oh god, I-" you whimper, but Lewis feels it before you do, is picking up a punishing pace. "I know, sweetie, you’re doing so well…" he purrs, has you crying out when he changes his angle, hits those places deep inside till you're taken by the throbbing heat between your legs. Lewis presses his mouth into your neck as he fucks you through it, has to fight tooth and nail to hold back because he knows he'll be in trouble if he doesn't, straining hard to not lose himself in you. It's almost too late when he pulls out, barely in time, his vision whited out from pleasure as he spills warm and wet on your belly. Lewis is panting and cursing while he pulses against the hinge of your hip, arms threatening to give out under him, baring his teeth. You don't think you've ever seen him come this hard.

"Fuck," he sighs, says it again, shoulders heaving as he leans back on his heels. He looks out of his mind, holding on to your thigh, can't do a single thing except to feel you under his palm. You're watching him in silence, because you don't know what to say.

Lewis does get up, eventually. But only to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom, and to pour some warm water on it. You're relieved when you see him come back to bed, worried for a moment he'd just get dressed and leave without another word. Instead, he's cleaning you, slowly running the cloth over your skin, starts with your face, then your neck, down to your belly to wipe away the mess he’s made. It's heart wrenching, how mindful and gentle he is with it, like this is still a part of it all, an act of aftercare. You wish he'd never stop.

When Lewis is done, he sits still. "We shouldn't," he begins, but trails off again. "I don't care," you say, shaking your head. "I don't care." It bursts out of you right then, can't help but reach out for his face, fingers in his beard, and then you're kissing him, deep and sincere as you pour it all out into his lips. "I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm so sorry that I lied to you. I'm sorry that I ran away." It's starting to sound like a prayer now, the way you're whispering against his lips, a dying, pleading flame that hopes he can forgive you. Lewis looks at you, his face in your hands. His dark brown eyes, so harsh and unforgiving earlier, have gone so soft. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your lips. Vulnerable. "I know. It's okay," Lewis whispers, doesn't have to think twice about it. He'd give you the shirt off his back had you asked for it, knows it in his heart. "I’m sorry I didn't treat you like I should have," he says, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You give him your lips, your tongue, let your hands slip into his hair and down his neck as you kiss him the way he loves it. Lewis is intoxicating, the most potent drug in the universe. He's tasting you with such devotion, slow licks of his tongue, moaning low into the kiss, almost sounds like he's hurting. Don't break my heart again.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton smut

[noirsfantasy]

On the twelfth day of Christmas...

𝔄 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔬 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔱. 5

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Actor!Michael B Jordan x OC!Naomi Samuels

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 7.5k

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Christmas day turns out to be more eventful than Naomi had hoped for, but it wasn't all bad. Christmas may not have been the magical day everyone wanted, but maybe it was what everyone needed.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Y'all, I'm SOOO SORRYYYYY!!! I feel so bad for making y'all wait this long. I've really enjoyed writing this whole series and the other oneshots as well. I won't go into why this took so long, I know y'all wanna see how it ends. So, without further delay, here is the finale! Enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Christmas morning dawns with a hushed excitement. I feel a warm, gentle glow on my skin as I stir in my sleep. I wake up for the last time in my childhood room. It's a bit chilly as I slip out of bed, tiptoeing to the window and looking out over the snow-covered landscape. The world seems to sparkle in the early morning light and a sense of calm settles within me. The events of the previous days replay in my mind - the shared laughter, reconstructing bonds, and the budding connection between Michael and me.

I yawn and stretch sleepily, but before I can fully embrace the day, my door bursts open. The twins tumble into the room like a whirlwind of excitement.

"Auntie Mimi, Auntie Mimi! It's Christmas!" They shout in unison, their eyes sparkling in pure joy. They rush over to me, bouncing up and down with an infectious energy.

"Y'all are up early!" I groan sleepily as they tug on my arms.

"Come on, Auntie!" Matthew urges as they pull me towards the door.

"Santa left us more gifts!" Mason adds and I allow myself to be pulled into the festive chaos.

We get downstairs and I see James and Teresa sitting on the couch, drinking steaming cups of coffee. I chuckle at the sight.

"I guess they went to see you guys before they came to me." I observe and Teresa gives me a sleepy smile.

"I just wanted five more minutes but they wanted to open their presents now." She says with a sigh.

"And then they decided they wanted everyone else awake to open them as well." James adds, seeming to remind the boys of their mission and they run back up the stairs to get everyone else.

I take a seat on the couch and slide my feet between the cushions to keep them warm. James hands me my own cup of coffee and I thank him, taking a sip that warms me to my core. The stairs creak as my mom comes down, then my aunts, Ashanti, and, finally, Michael. As he emerges from the guest room, I note that he looks slightly disheveled, yet undeniably charming.

"Morning," He greets, his voice a bit groggy as he sits next to me, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"Morning," I reply, the vibrant energy of the morning slowly dispelling the remnants of sleep. I continue to sip my coffee, finding myself blushing from his close presence. Michael puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"Sorry, you looked pretty cold and I've been told I make good heater." He smirks teasingly and I roll my eyes at him, scooting closer until our legs are touching. "Now that's more like it.

The family gathers in the living room and, finally, the unwrapping of gifts can commence. Mason fishes through the mountains of gifts and pulls out a medium sized box. It says "From Granny Pat."

"Can I open it?!" He asks excitedly. Aunt Pat gives him a nod and he tears it open to find a Jurassic Park Lego set.

"YES! I've been wanting this forever!" he screams as he jumps up from his seat, running to tell his brother. Then Matthew opens on of his gifts. It's a large toy robot. He's in awe of it, excited to try it out. After that, the rest of the family begin to unwrap theirs, one by one.

As the unwrapping frenzy continues, Teresa’s eyes widen in surprise as James hands her a neatly wrapped gift. She carefully opens it, revealing the same pair of ugly Christmas leggings she had admired at the store yesterday. Her face lights up with delight, and she looks at James in disbelief.

“These are amazing! How did you…?” she begins, her voice filled with awe.

Ashanti smiles proudly, leaning over to whisper in my ear, “I sent him a picture when I saw how much she loved them. He insisted on going back to get them.”

Teresa is so touched by James' thoughtful gift that she practically leaps into his arms, showering him with kisses and affection. He returns her affection, smiling back at her and wrapping his arms around her.

Michael is watching the two of them with a grin on his face, he seems amused by the whole thing.

Next, Ashanti receives a flashy gift from her mother, despite their recent arguments. The air is tense between them and Aunt Tina doesn’t even look to see Ashanti’s reaction to the gift.

The atmosphere is full of awkward tension, but Ashanti does not seem to care. She smiles warmly and thanks her mother for the gift, which is a designer wallet.

I smile as I pick up a gift that I wrapped carefully and hand it to Michael, eager for him to open it.

He takes the gift from me, and he can tell how excited I am to see his reaction.

He tears the paper away to reveal a painted canvas, a portrait of him, capturing every aspect of his face, from his perfect smile to his warm eyes. As he pulls the painting from its wrapping, his expression shifts from curiosity to astonishment. His eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in the image before him, his lips parting in silent awe. For a moment, he is speechless, his gaze fixed on the portrait with a mixture of wonder and gratitude.

"Is this..." He starts and begins to beam. "Is this yours?" He asks finally, his eyes still fixed on the portrait. I smile and nod.

“I told you I’d make one for you. Here it is.” I say, my smile widening.

"It's amazing," He says, his voice still strained as he continues to stare at the painting. We've had a lot of touching moments these past few days, but nothing quite like this. This gesture feels like a genuine act of love, one that takes a lot of heart and dedication. It's just one more thing that makes it difficult for me to keep denying my feelings for him.

He pulls me into a hug and I bask in the feeling of his strong arms around me. It never gets old. I smile warmly as we separate and Ashanti sighs heavily, interrupting our moment.

“Okay, we get it, y’all are in love!” She fake gags and we roll our eyes at her. “Here, Naomi, open this one.” She plops a small gift in my lap and looks at me expectantly. I look at her in confusion as I open it, my heart skipping a beat as I see what’s inside. It’s the notebook Ashanti and I used to color in when we were little, filled with doodles and memories from our childhood.

"I can't believe you still have this..." I look at her in pure shock, my eyes wide. Ashanti smiles sweetly at me, not only having kept it, but having taken the time to give it to me today. This notebook means the world to me and it feels like Ashanti knows my heart. I hug her, almost in tears from its sentimental value.

She smiles softly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s a reminder of the bond we share, no matter where life takes us.” This moment hits me just right. I have so much to be grateful for today, and this gift is just another example of all the love that I have in my life.

As we pull apart, I can see that my other family members have noticed the touching scene.

"We get it," Teresa yells teasingly, "can we continue on with the gifts now?" Ashanti sticks her tongue at her and I laugh as we move on.

As the gift opening continues on, the children get more toys and the atmosphere is filled with joy. Finally, Michael hands me his last gift from under the tree. I open the small envelope with unsure hands, my heart racing with anticipation. Inside, I find a boarding pass for first class to Los Angeles, set for December 26, tomorrow.

I look at him in shock, my breath catching in my throat. He meets my gaze with a soft smile, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"I thought we'd start the new year together," he says softly. My breath stops and my heart skip a beat. This is big. It's not something casual. This is a statement of intention and I know it. My family notices it, as well. They're all wide-eyed, waiting to see how I respond.

"Is this...are you asking me to go back with you... to Los Angeles?" I ask him, barely able to speak with what this gift actually represents.

"Yes," he says softly, taking my hand. "I want you to come home me, just until New Years. You know, just to get to know you better and see where we go from here... outside of this place. And I do believe there's something pretty amazing between us that's worth exploring. So... are you coming?" A rush of happiness washes over me, and I throw my arms around him, accepting the gift with overflowing joy.

“Of course, I’ll go to LA with you!” I squeal, my excitement overflowing. He wraps his arms around me as well and my mother claps her hands excitedly.

“Now THAT is a Christmas present!” She exclaims and Teresa chimes in.

“Mmhm, you’re telling me. I sure would love to go to LA.” She casts a glance at James, who laughs and shakes his head.

“Thanks, Mike, now I gotta one up you.” He says jokingly and Teresa swats his arm playfully. There are smiles all around us and my family all seem relieved that I've agreed so quickly. Michael laughs along and leans back in his seat, subtly taking my hand in his as the excitement dies down.

He moves to closer whisper in my ear, "Let's finish opening these gifts and then we'll talk more about LA tonight." I nod in agreement and the celebration of opening the gifts continues until every single gift has been opened. Then, we all settle in to enjoy the remainder of this holiday. My family members start to disperse and leave the room, going off to watch TV, relax, or take a nap. Danny, Ashanti, Teresa, James, Michael and I find ourselves taking a walk outside in the snow.

We're bundled up in jackets and hats, our breath fogging in the cold winter air. Michael and I have fallen far behind the rest of our group. The snow falls gently, covering everything in a thick blanket of white. As we walk along the sidewalk, my fingers wrap around his bicep, taking comfort in his strong presence. We're almost completely silent, both of us enjoying the quiet as the light snow falls. it feels calm and peaceful, like time has stood still. The only sound that's breaking the silence is the crunch of snow as we walk along.

I steal glances at Michael, admiring the way the winter sun highlights the rich tones of his skin, casting a warm glow over his features. He looks over at me, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

"This is nice," He finally says softly. We both enjoy the winter air and take in the snow-covered landscape that spreads out before us. The sun warms my skin as we continue to walk and my finger traces circles in his bicep every few steps.

"Yeah, it's such a beautiful day out. This is a nice way to spend Christmas day." I reply, leaning my head on his shoulder. Michael chuckles lightly, smirking a bit as he glances at me.

"I was talking about being here with you." He corrects me, a dimpled grin spreading across his face. I blush as his words catch me off guard and I let go of his arm. "But it does look nice out today. I just prefer to look at you." He reaches out to grab my hand, bringing me in closer. I let out a laugh as he raises an eyebrow at me.

"You thought that was really smooth, huh?" I ask and he rolls his eyes at me.

Michael lets out a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Smooth as butter," he replies with a playful grin. "But hey, can you blame a guy for trying?" I shake my head, laughing softly.

"I suppose not," I admit and we share a laugh, the sound echoing softly in the crisp winter air. It's moments like these, filled with easy banter and genuine laughter, that make me feel grateful for the connection we've formed over the past few days.

As Michael and I walk, engrossed in our conversation, I suddenly realize that the sound of footsteps ahead of us has disappeared. I glance up, only to see Teresa, James, and Ashanti emerge from behind a snow-covered bush, armed with handfuls of snowballs.

Before we can react, snowballs start flying in our direction. I yelp and we brace ourselves for the incoming attack. We're bombarded with snow from all sides, leaving us standing there in shock, covered in a layer of white.

Michael and I exchange a bewildered glance, silence in the air as my brother and cousins laugh at us. Then, without missing a beat, Michael scoops up a handful of snow and tosses it playfully above us. As the snow falls directly on my hat, I can’t help but look at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

“Really?” I say with a sarcastic eye roll, shaking my head at his antics.

“Oh, yeah.” He says with a mischievous grin. Michael can't help but break out into a hysterical laugh. "You should see your face," he teases, which makes my expression turn from surprise to annoyance. We both laugh as I reach over and scoop up a snowball, preparing myself to launch it at him.

Before I know it, we’re all engaged in a full-blown snowball fight, laughter ringing out into the winter air as we duck and dodge each other’s icy projectiles.

The snow keeps flying and our breaths fog up the cold winter air. My family and I have always been very competitive, so the snowball fight quickly escalates into a full-blown, no-holds-barred battle. We're all laughing, running, slipping and sliding in the snow, throwing snowballs as fast as we can and ducking to avoid being hit.

In the midst of our snowball fight, Michael reaches out and picks me up, using me as a shield as all the snowballs fire in our direction. I scream as I’m lifted off the ground and hit with one snowball after another.

“Put me down! You’re cheating!” I shout as I laugh loudly.

"You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first!" He laughs, holding me closer to his body, and I have to admit that I do feel safe in his strong arms, even in the middle of a snowball fight.

I struggle against his grip as I’m covered in snow until we both lose balance. We tumble backward into a pile of fresh white fluff, the cold seeping through our jackets, but neither of us cares. Wrapped up in each other’s warmth, we lie there, breathless and giggling like a pair of children.

As we lay there laughing, breathing heavily in between giggles, it feels like the whole world has stopped. The snow continues to fall and the sound of the others laughing and throwing snowballs is a distant echo in the distance. It's just us here in this beautiful winter wonderland. Our eyes meet and we exchange a look of mutual understanding and tenderness as we bask in the moment.

We both sit up as we hear Teresa yelling as she runs towards us. Before we can move, she jumps on top of us, giggling.

“Ugh! Teresa! You’re heavy!” I groan with a laugh as she sprawls out across us.

“Ahhh this is nice!” She says as she ignores my complaints. To my displeasure, James comes and jumps on top of us as well. Michael and I groan at the added weight. They’re both laughing uncontrollably.

“I can’t breathe!” Michael grunts and chuckles as we try and push them off. As if that wasn’t enough, Ashanti and Danny join in the fun, piling on top of us in a heap of laughter and snow-covered limbs. The weight of our combined bodies presses us deeper into the snow, the cold seeping through our clothes, but none of us worry about that as we dissolve into fits of laughter.

“Hey, watch it!” Michael exclaims, his voice muffled by the snow and laughter.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist!” Ashanti giggles, her breath coming out in puffs of white in the chilly air.

“I think we broke Naomi,” Danny jokes, his laughter contagious.

I manage to gasp between giggles, “You guys are ridiculous!” But my protests only elicit more laughter from the others, who seem determined to prolong the moment for as long as possible.

Eventually, though, our laughter subsides, and we lie there in the snow, breathless and content, our hearts full of joy and our spirits light.

As we finally untangle ourselves from the snowy dog pile, we exchange playful swats and teasing remarks. I shiver as Michael helps me stand up.

“God, I’m so cold!” I exclaim and Ashanti nods.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure jumping in the snow was the best idea now.” She admits with her teeth chattering and I raise an eyebrow.

“You think?” I reply.

"Well, it was a good idea at the time," James responds, his words causing everyone to laugh. As the laughter settles, we all start to feel the cold really sink in and we realize how damp and wet we really are.

"I guess it maybe wasn't the best decision," Ashanti admits.

“Yeah, I think we need some hot cocoa after that,” Teresa adds, her cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter.

“How about we change first?” Danny suggests, shaking his head.

“Definitely.” I agree.

“Sounds like a plan,” Michael adds, rubbing his hands together, trying to warm them up in the frigid conditions. The others agree and we make our way inside to get changed.

As we trudge back to the house, our clothes damp and clinging to our skin, we're greeted by the warm glow of the lights shining through the windows. Grandmother is standing by the door, her hands on her hips and a playful twinkle in her eye.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" she says with a chuckle, taking in our snow-covered appearance. "Looks like we've got ourselves a bunch of walking icicles!"

We all exchange sheepish glances, realizing just how wet and cold we must look. But Grandmother just laughs and ushers us inside.

"Come on in, you lot," she says, her voice warm and welcoming. "I'll get a fire going and some hot chocolate brewing. You'll warm up in no time." As we all follow her inside, discarding our boots at the door, we all head to our rooms to get out of our clothes. It feels just like when we were kids, always outside, having the time of our lives, then coming back inside to the warmth and comfort that it had to offer.

After shedding my winter clothes, I towel off and slip into a snug green sweater and a pair of black jeans, opting for some plush socks to keep my toes warm. Despite still feeling a bit chilly, the anticipation of the hot chocolate awaiting us downstairs fills me with a sense of warmth.

While freshening up my appearance in front of the mirror, I catch sight of the emerald jewelry set gifted to me by Michael last night. I smile as I think about what it means to me. How thoughtful of a gift it was. Delicately adorned with shimmering green stones, it complements my outfit perfectly. With a smile, I fasten the earrings and clasp the necklace around my neck, admiring how elegantly they enhance my look.

With one last look in the mirror, I step out of my room, ready to join the others when I run into Michael, leaving his room as well. His eyes widen at the sight of me, speechless. I raise an eyebrow at him as he stares at me, waiting for him to say something. After a moment he shakes his head, as if snapping out of a trance and a warm grin spreads across his face.

"You look... wow," He manages to say softly, still taken aback by the sight of me. As his eyes roam over my outfit, they light up at the sight of me wearing his gift. A blush creeps onto my face as I smile shyly and look off to the side.

"I figured it would go nicely with what I'm wearing." I reply, fiddling with the necklace. Michael smiles, his eyes still twinkling as he looks me over from head to toe.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," he compliments, a hint of admiration in his words. Before I can respond, he leans in and plants a gentle kiss on my cheek, sending a flutter of warmth through me. "I'm going to have trouble keeping my eyes off you."

"Well, then look all you want." I giggle as the touch of his lips sends a jolt of electricity through my entire being, leaving me feeling giddy and breathless.

"We should probably get downstairs. I think the hot chocolate is ready." Michael's fingers tug on mine as he nods towards the steps. With a shared smile, we continue our descent down the stairs, hand in hand.

As we reach the bottom, the comforting aroma of hot chocolate fills the air, drawing us into the kitchen where grandmother stands, ladling out steaming cups of cocoa for each of us. I gratefully accept mine, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.

As we gather in the kitchen for the much-needed warm beverage, Grandmother sets out a plate of cookies and other treats, along with some candy canes to help us get in the holiday spirit. The room fills with laughter and good cheer as everyone warms up and catches up with each other. The kids tumble into the kitchen, clamoring for the sweet treats.

"Y'all slow down, them treats ain't gonna run from you." Aunt Pat calls out to them from the living room. The twins giggle and grab a cup of cocoa, running out of the kitchen with a handful of cookies. I smile as I see Jesse waddle into the kitchen, reaching for a candy cane on the counter. I grab it and hand it to her and she smiles up at me.

"Tank you, Titi." She says, before putting the candy cane in her mouth and walking towards Michael. She lifts her chubby arms up in a silent plea to be picked up.

“Aw, how can anyone resist that?” Michael chuckles as he lifts her up and swings her around, making her giggles grow louder with each swing. He holds her high before setting her back down, ruffling her hair and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Seems like you're getting pretty popular around here." I giggle, shaking my head as Jesse jumps up and down, wanting to go up again. Michael laughs and shakes his head.

"It seems like it,” Michael replies, amused at the little girl’s attachment to him. Jesse wraps her arms around his legs, looking up at him with big, pleading eyes.

“Up, up?” She demands sweetly, to which Michael gives in and he picks her up again. Teresa laughs and Michael hands Jesse over to her. Jesse starts to whine, not wanting to leave.

"Come on, baby. we gotta get you changed and then it's nap time." Jesse starts to cry but Teresa doesn't budge and leaves to take her upstairs. Michael chuckles as he watches Teresa take the baby away.

“Looks like someone loves you," I nudge him, my voice full of amusement. He takes a sip from his cocoa and I can’t help but stare at how his eyes sparkle as he laughs and the way the warmth of his smile radiates.

"Yeah, I guess she does," Michael chuckles, taking another sip of hot chocolate, and I swear the man is getting more attractive every minute. From across the room, Ashanti notices the way I’m looking at Michael and she can’t help but chuckle, taking the situation entirely out of context.

“Mimi, you're drooling a bit.” Ashanti says, her teasing voice loud enough for us all to hear, and Michael glances sideways at me as he tries to suppress a smirk. I roll my eyes at her and chuckle.

"Whatever, Ashanti. It was just because I wanted a cookie." I say as I pick up one from the plate of treats, taking a bite.

"Uh-huh, tell yourself that, sweetheart." Ashanti replies with a smirk and I can’t help but snicker as she continues to antagonize me. "Just try not to get any on the counter.”

As the chatter and laughter continue to fill the kitchen, Grandmother, with her usual warmth and hospitality, invites us to settle in and make ourselves comfortable. With the fire crackling and the scent of hot chocolate wafting through the air, it's easy to feel at home.

I take a seat at the table, cradling my mug of cocoa in my hands, savoring the rich, chocolatey warmth. This cozy atmosphere and the company of family are the perfect way to spend Christmas. A game of Spades commences and everyone's energy is elevated as time passes quickly.

The living room, magically illuminated by the large Christmas tree, is infused with laughter and shouting as I finish up my cup of hot chocolate. The mood is light and we are all enjoying ourselves. I also can't help but admire how Michael has just gravitated into our family. He fits in seamlessly and I can think back to when I'd seen interviews talking about how good of a guy he is. I'm glad to know that every word is true.

As the minutes blur into hours, the delicious aroma of Christmas dinner wafts through the house and I notice Michael's eyes light up at the scent. I can feel my hunger growing as well. The sun retreats into the horizon and the kids start to get a little rowdy as they are ready to eat. It doesn't help that the plate of treats is long gone.

"Mommy! When is dinner ready? I'm gonna die!" Matthew whines to Teresa, falling into her lap dramatically.

"Any minute now, honey. The table is almost set.” Teresa responds, stroking Matthew's hair and giving him a kiss. He sighs dramatically as he looks around the room, his eyes landing on me as I'm engaged in a conversation with Ashanti and James.

The four of us share a smile at his melodrama and I can’t help but laugh. Teresa lifts his face with her finger and the two of them have a sweet moment.

As if on cue, the dinner bell rings and everyone eagerly gets up, washing up before heading to the dining room. We stand around the table as Grandmother prays over the food and, once she's finished, we all get to work making our plates. Of all the meals we've had on this trip, this one is rightfully the biggest and most delicious. It seems everyone's plan today is to eat their fill.

I load my plate up with plenty of food, earning some looks from my aunts, but I ignore them. As I enter the dining room, I spot Michael sitting next door to Daniel, deep in conversation. I sit down next to him and he glances at me, throwing me a wink as he goes back to the conversation.

Dinner starts off on a cheerful note, with Grandmother praying over the food and everyone digging into the delicious holiday feast. I can't help but feel grateful for my family, despite our shortcomings, I wouldn't ask for a different family.

"This food is really good, Ms. Samuels." Michael says, smiling at my mother and she returns the smile.

"I'm glad you like it, Michael. Eat as much as you like!" She replies. I chuckle a bit as I look over and see Teresa with a plate filled to the brim with food. I hear Aunt Pat tsk.

"Terry, honey, you're not eating for two anymore, you don't have to eat like a pig anymore, you know?" She tells her, as if it's the most normal thing to say. The table goes silent as Teresa stares across the table at her mother.

"Ma, was that really necessary?" She asks, her brow furrowed. Aunt Pat shrugs her shoulders.

"I was just saying, you're not as young as you used to be. All that food is gonna go right to your hips. You already have a long way to go with all that baby weight." Aunt Tina snickers at her sisters words and Teresa doesn't respond, just eating in silence.

"Can we please not do this right now?" Ashanti asks with annoyance. "Just two seconds, please, without your stupid criticisms?!" Aunt Pat and Tina look at each other in disbelief. My mom shakes her head and sighs and Grandmother doesn't seem to be paying attention.

"Let's just talk about something happy? How about that?" I suggest, offering a smile. Aunt Tina turns to me and smirks.

"Okay, then. So, Mimi, since you and Michael seem to be head over heels for each other, are you planning on living off of him so you can keep painting? I mean painting is all well and good, but it's still not a proper career. Maybe now since you have a movie star boyfriend, you shouldn't have to worry about money." She remarks, her tone dripping with condescension.

I feel my face flush, and my hands clench into fists under the table. Even after everything I've said to them, they still are acting this way. I hate always feeling like I have to live up to these stupid expectations. Michael grabs my hand, unballing my fist and linking our fingers. I look up and I open my mouth to speak.

"You know, if you guys actually cared, you'd know that Naomi is a hard worker and her artwork on average goes for a couple thousand dollars per painting. You say all these things like you care about her well being, but she's actually doing really will without you and your criticism." Michael tells her, standing up for me. Aunt Tina's jaw drops as she stammers for a response.

"I'm just saying, she needs a stable job. Her finances rely on whether she makes a good painting or not and she could at any moment in time lose-"

"Hello, hello, hellooooo!" Ashanti interrupts her, tapping her hand on the table. "It's 2023, right? Oh yeah, it is! Yet here you old women are here being bitter and ugly." Teresa nods and opens her mouth to speak as well.

"So many women nowadays are smashing stereotypes left and right. What happened to supporting each other as women? You both just see someone happily living their life you just have to shit on them!" She says, covering Jesse's ears. Mason and Matthew giggle at hearing the profanity. Just as the argument threatens to escalate, Grandmother stands and puts down her utensils.

"Now that's enough, everyone." She demands and everyone falls silent. "Naomi is a grown woman, capable of making her own life decisions. It's her life, and she has the right to choose her own path. You all have lived your lives already and they are nowhere near perfect. Patrice, you're divorced and you've been bitter ever since. Pat your daughter has a beautiful family and is living happily but you always manage to say something to put her down. She's doing an amazing job as a mother, perhaps even better than you." Aunt pat looks down at her plate, not saying anything.

"And Tina you never even got married! You kept pushing all of your ambitions on Ashanti and she grew up not being her true self. All she wanted was your approval and you never even tell her she's done a good job. Her success may be from what you pushed her to do, but Ashanti is a remarkable woman who is allowed to have ambitions of her own." Grandmother points to Aunt Tina and she avoids eye contact.

"These children are the future and shaping the world and you're trying so hard to live through them because you didn't live your lives the way you wanted to. Angie," She points to my mother. "You have raise a smart, beautiful, and talented daughter and she is making her mark on the world. You did such an amazing job raising her, but you need to do a better job at defending her as well. That's your baby girl, and you don't even notice how much your sisters make her feel bad about herself."

"Ashanti, Teresa, Naomi, I've got some words for you three as well. Indeed these women haven't been the kindest, but these are your mothers, you hear me. You treat them with respect, always. Now, that doesn't mean to let them walk all over you and I'm proud of you girls for looking out for each other, but never is it acceptable to call them names or to curse at them." She tells us sternly. She looks over at Daniel and he looks back at her, wondering what he did.

"Daniel, you have been the family's golden child all your life. You haven't had to deal with a lot of what these young ladies did, but if you see something, you better speak up! There is no being neutral when it comes to you cousins and your little sister. Especially your sister!" She lectures him as he nods, looking over at us.

"James, you are a wonderful match for my grandbaby Teresa. I am so happy she was able to find you and create a gorgeous family. Remember that your wife is number one always, and teach your kids to respect their mother. And Michael." She turns to him and he raises his eyebrows a bit. "Ever since you came and started getting close to my Naomi, she has been happier than I've seen her in years. If you're serious about liking her, you better protect her happiness, because for too long, Mimi hasn't had that type of trust and protection." Michael looks at me and nods his head as well.

"We are a family. We're all we got. So, shape up and love each other, or things will get really ugly around here." Grandmother says, concluding her speech and sitting down. It's silent for a moment and no one moves. I can see the shame on Aunt Tina and Pat's faces, even my mothers. They mumble apologies and we all agree to move past the tension, in an effort to mend our family. I catch Grandmother's eye and she smiles at me.

I mouth the words, "Thank you," to her and she nods at me. I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for her, as she's always been my biggest supporter. I feel Michael squeeze my hand reassuringly and I smile at him.

As dinner draws to a close, Michael leans over, bringing my hand to his lips and gently kissing my knuckles.

"You handled that well," He whispers, his breath warm on my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Your family clearly has their ups and downs, but it's obvious that you are loved by many. And I can see why. You're strong, talented, and beautiful inside out." He tells me, flashing a charming smile at me. My cheeks flush at his words, and I feel a giddy smile spread across my face.

"Thank you, Michael. That really means a lot, coming from you. I don't know how many times I can say it, but I'm really grateful that I met you and got to get to know you." I tell him and I lean in and kiss his cheek. He puts his arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to my temple as sit at the table still.

"Hey, last ones at the table have to clean it up!" Ashanti calls from the kitchen. Michael and I look at each other and burst out laughing, shaking our heads as we stand up and start cleaning off the table.

Later, Michael and I are relaxing in the living room with Teresa, Ashanti, Daniel, and James. With Michaels arm around me, I feel a sense of contentment as we reminisce over the events these past few days. We playfully tease Ashanti about her outburst at the market and we talk about our favorite memories as well. It really feels like the end to a cheesy Hallmark movie.

Michael leans into my ear and whispers, "So, about our flight tomorrow morning. I may have gotten you a little something else to go along with it." I raise an eyebrow and look at him.

"A little something else?" I question. He leads me upstairs to his guest room and opens his closet. It holds several shopping bags and I open them to find brand-new clothes. "Michael, what? Why did you buy these?" I ask him. He chuckles at my shocked reaction.

"I know you most likely only packed enough for your trip here, but I want you to have options when we go to LA. I've got a lot planned for us and I didn't want you to have to worry about a thing." He explains. "I also wanted to spoil you, I think it's become my new hobby." He jokes. I stand up and turn to him, pouting. He raises an eyebrow but then I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his chest. He laughs a bit as he holds me close to him.

"Why are you so perfect~" I ask in a playful whine, looking up at him.

"I'm far from perfect, sweetheart," he tells me with a smile. "Just head over heels, like Aunt Tina said." He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, pulling me even closer. I cringe at his words and giggle.

"Ew, no. We don't use that phrase anymore." I tell him as I pretend to barf. Michael chuckles at my over the top reaction and faked a look of hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Oh, yep- you got me right in the heart-" He grunts as he pretends to die. I roll my eyes at him.

"Whatever." I giggle and try to walk away, but he grabs my hand and pulls me back in. He locks his arms around me so I can't escape and starts trailing kisses on my neck, making his way to my lips. I fight back as best as I can, but I eventually give in, giggling against his lips.

We continue to kiss passionately, his hands roaming across my body, relishing the feeling of my skin under his fingertips. Eventually, I pull away, slightly out of breath, but completely enamored with him.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. You taste so good," He murmurs, his voice husky and filled with desire. "We should probably get to packing, we have an early day tomorrow." Michael's hands rest on my hips, his thumbs trailing over my curves.

"Yeah, you're right. Cause I'm goin' to LA!" I squeal excitedly and he grins at my enthusiasm, feeling a mix of excitement and affection swelling in his chest.

"Yep, and it's gonna be the best trip of your life. That's a guarantee." He winks at me and plants a few more kisses on my lips before detaching himself from me, though not without sneaking a playful pat on my butt as I walk away. I giggle and turn back to him. "Come on, let's get packing.

The rest of the day, everyone is preparing to leave. Teresa and her family are leaving tonight, as well as Ashanti, claiming she has business to attend to. I give my cousins a warm goodbye and we all promise to keep in touch. My aunts are silent for the rest of the night, which is a nice change for once. I finish up packing and Daniel, Michael and I spend time talking by the fireplace. Eventually, we all retire to our rooms, resting up for the next day.

In the morning, Grandmother is up early and cooks a hearty meal for those who haven't left yet. We thank her and eat up, knowing this might be the last homecooked meal we have for a while. Daniel was driving back to LA, but he offered to drop us off at the airport. We took our time saying goodbye to the family and I made a point to even say goodbye to my aunts. It's better to leave on a good note.

As I stand in the living room, waiting for Michael to come down with the rest of our bags. I pause for a moment, taking in the familiar, comforting surroundings—the well-worn couch, the stack of board games, and the photos on the mantle, both old and new, all reminders of the eventful holiday I've just had.

I hear footsteps on the stairs and see Michael descending the stairs.

"Ready to go, beautiful?" He asks, pulling me into a warm embrace. I encircle my arms around his neck, feeling my hear skip a beat.

"Yeah, just about." I smile, taking in your familiar scent, leaning up and capturing your lips in a kiss. Daniel clears his throat noisily from the foyer, causing us to break apart.

"Ahem, I'm happy for you two, really, but we've got a schedule to keep, folks. Time to hit the road." He tells us and we chuckle, grabbing the last of our stuff and putting it in his car. We say our last goodbyes before heading out to the car. Michael and I sit in the backseat of Dan's car, getting comfy as the car starts. As we pull off, I watch as my childhood home disappears around the corner, bidding it a silent farewell. I felt a twinge of sadness for the difficulties I faced these past few days, but I feel Michael take my hand in his and my mood is replaced with excitement for what's to come.

When we arrive at the airport, Daniel helps Michael unload our luggage. I give him a big hug, saying goodbye for now.

"Thank you for everything, Daniel. Not just for bringing Michael into my life, but just being my brother and looking out for me. I love you."

Daniel returns the hug, his voice a bit gruff with affection. "Love you to, Mimi. Now go and have some fun. Just remember to call, text, or send a smoke signal now and then to let me know you're okay." He tells me. I nod and he daps up Michael, claiming they'll see each other at work. As we grab our stuff and walk towards the entrance, Daniel calls after us.

"Hey! Take care of my little sister, or I'll come looking for you, Jordan," Daniel warns with a playful growl.

"Will do, I won't let anything happen to her," Michael assures him. And with that, we wave him goodbye. I am unable to wipe my smile off my face as we check in and make our way through customs. We board our plane and settle into our seats and I look out the window at the world outside as we wait to lift off.

"This is it," Michael says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Our first of many trips together. I can't wait to show you all the best spots in LA." My heart races as I look into Michael's eyes.

"I'm so excited. I can't wait to see what's in store for us." I reply and we lace our fingers together, smiling warmly at each other. I feel incredibly fortunate to have Michael by my side— a man who seems to understand me so well and who has already woven himself into the fabric of my life and family.

As the plane ascends, I gaze out the window, watching the snowcapped mountains give way to fluffy white clouds. I feel a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that whatever lay ahead, I have the love and support of my family, and now Michael, to see me through it all.

Little did I know that this trip would mark the beginning of a new chapter in my life—one where I never have to go through anything alone anymore, one where I find true happiness and realize just how blessed I truly am.

As I think back on the events of this trip, it really had a little of everything. We had a lot of fun, a bit of drama, a budding romance. When I look back, this truly was a December to remember...

#fluff #christmas #noirsfantasy #12 days of christmas #black reader #black reader fluff #black actors #michael b jordan #fine black men #my heart #black men #michael b jordan x black fem reader #michael b jordan x reader #x reader #fem reader #black christmas #michael b jordan x oc

[loneberry]

some notes on sufism

The other day I went to the Harvard Divinity School Muslims iftar (the meal that breaks the fast during Ramadan), which was followed by a concert of Turkish music that is traditionally performed in Sufi lodges in Istambul. Before the music began, the professor I’ve been auditing Islamic literature classes with read some verses from Rumi’s Masnavi and offered a meditation on fasting through an interpretation of the lines: “If you have closed this mouth, another mouth is opened, which becomes an eater of the morsels of mysteries.” That is the nature of mystical knowledge—gnosis (or maʿrifa) is not understood intellectually, but tasted (dhawq). The closing of the bodily mouth is an opening of the spiritual mouth. He asked us to listen to the music with the inner heart.

I went with my friend S, who has been nudging me toward conversion. I’ve been allergic to religion most of my life because I’m not really much of a joiner. I distinctly remember being in (Catholic) Sunday School as a child and thinking to myself: This sounds fake to me. As in, made-up, irrational. The people who treated the fanciful stories like fact seemed like crackpots to me, even to my child-mind. I don’t think I ever believed in Santa either—I guess my disposition was innately skeptical; perhaps that contributed to my identification with anarchism from when I was 13 or 14. Yet at the same time, my feeling for the invisible, for the world of the dead, was always quite strong, even when it was unstitched from a belief system. As a kid I would wander the house alone at night, thinking I could hear my dead parakeet chirping from a shoebox in the garage.  

I hated Sunday School. While I was always good at school-school (at least when I was a child, before I became an incorrigible truant), I was terrible at Sunday School. Because it seemed like hocus-pocus to me, none of it stuck. My classmates had internalized all the stories I thought were outlandish. During mass I would think exclusively about donuts, the ones we would buy from the ladies who would sell them as a fundraiser. I’ve thought about returning to Catholicism, but sadly, after the post-1970s political realignment in the US, all the leftist Catholics (the Marxists who loathed the Vietnam War and exposed the FBI’s COINTELPRO) are gone. As much as I love reading Catholic mystics (St Teresa of Avila, St John of the Cross, Angela of Foligno, Hildegard of Bingen, Meister Eckhart, Marguerite Porete, and others), Christian mysticism is more individualist than Islamic mysticism—asceticism and separation from the group is the way to commune with God, while Islamic mysticism is rooted in communal practices like sama (singing, dancing, reciting poetry, playing/listening to music) and dhikr (communal prayer for the remembrance of God). While Christian mysticism bears the imprint of the Neoplatonist trajectory of ascent, for Sufism, the trajectory is shaped like a paisley. After fana (annihilation of the ego/union with God/dying before you die), there is baqaa or subsistence, a return of sorts. 

I also much prefer the Islamic orientation to the created world than the Christian one, for in Islam, everything in creation can be understood as the breath or speech of God. The Hadith on which Sufi cosmology is based reads, “I was a hidden Treasure and Loved to be known, so I created the world that I might be known.” All of creation is a mirror to reflect God (this is why you must polish the rust from your heart, for the human heart can manifest all the names and qualities of God). In the Islamic mystical tradition there is an affirmation of the created world even though God and creation are not the same (as is the case in Pantheism). Everything has ontology. Nothing has ontology. The Sufi metaphysicians ask us to see with two eyes. The drop is not the ocean at the same time it cannot be separated from the ocean.

7 years ago I read Reza Aslan’s God: A Human History. After sampling the platter of world religions I joked to myself, Hmmm, if I had to pick the one I vibe with most, I guess it would be Sufism (Islamic mysticism). I didn’t know anything about Sufism other than the Rumi and Hafez poetry I read as a teenager, but the way Aslan described Ibn ‘Arabi’s concept of 'wahadat al-wujud' (or Unity of Being) reminded me of Spinozism. I guess what I’m trying to say is...I just think Sufi metaphysics is...right. Or, it speaks to how I tend to think about reality. It’s not something I can prove (that I don’t exist, while at the same time I am part of the ALL that is God), but it makes the most sense to me.

In the Sufi literature class, S jokes to me: “You’re the only non-Muslim in this class.” The same was probably true at the iftar + concert. S points to someone from the class: “The Maoist is a recent convert. This is their first time fasting for Ramadan.” “Is [our professor] fasting?” “Of course. I saw him at the iftar last night and talked to him about translation. I told him it’s ghastly to try to fit Persian verse into an English rhyme scheme. He agreed with me.” (We are clearly partisans of blank verse translations… yet so much of what’s out there has been poorly translated or not translated at all.) 

Much of the lyrics sung with the gorgeous music were verses written by the great Turkish-language Sufi poet and mystic Yunus Emre ("the Dante of Turkey," I whispered to S). S was ecstatic listening to the haunting ney (a kind of flute). We just so happened to be sitting in the same row as the professor. I tapped S and whispered that it looked like he was really enjoying the music. He was smiling with his eyes closed and swaying his head from side to side. He looked like he was having...a profound experience. This prof usually has what I guess you’d call ‘resting bitch face’ (which I always found funny because it runs counter to his sweet and gentle personality). But not at the concert. Pure bliss was painted on his face. It was then that it dawned on me that Sufism, for him, was probably something more than a scholarly interest. I thought about what it must have been like to discover something so beautiful and profound, and to know, in that moment, that your life will be changed forever—you might go off to Iran and devote your entire life to studying medieval texts. 

Of course this Ramadan I am thinking continuously about the genocide in Gaza, how an entire population is being starved to death by the sadistic leaders of Israel, how terrible it must be to be bombed and shot at during the holy month, or to break your fast with boiled grass and animal feed. I feel truly ashamed to come from a country that is complicit in this violence. I hope everyone continues to apply pressure to end this war—it feels hopeless now, but it is making a difference.

#mysticism #sufism #islamic mysticism #music #literature #sufi poetry #poetry #religion #ramadan

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Santa Comunione

Part II // Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Part I

Summary: Hannibal Lecter often does things just to see what happens… and seducing a holy woman is one of those things.

WC: 6.1k words

Overall Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, Corruption, Blasphemy (?), Religious Imagery, Italy arc (Rome instead of Florence), Canon divergence, Self-Harm, Some whump, Angst, Eventual smut, religious trauma (i think?), I’m not a religious expert btw tho i grew up Catholic, mentions of wounds and scars, Ofc Hannibal has a God complex, Vague Catholicism, reader is a nun lol, lmk if i missed anything!

----

“Like a lily among the thorns,

So is my darling among the maidens.”

-Song of Solomon 2:2

The note, just like all the others, had been neatly folded and tucked into a hiding spot you were sure to find. It had become like a game at that point, even if you always knew where to look.

This time, you found it right at the base of the statue of St. Teresa, near the petrified swish of her marble skirts. It seemed significant enough to make your heart skip a beat, especially given the message.

Though he never signed his name, you’d memorized his elegant penmanship, swooping and yet also contained in its preciseness. It made the words feel more powerful, somehow. You gingerly traced your fingers over them, as if hoping to find more pieces of him there.

At first, the notes were wholly platonic. Mostly verses that were meant to inspire in some way or another, but sometimes snippets of poems found their way in, too. 

Over time, they got slightly more daring, even if they were from the same source. You had always admired boldness, as he well knew. You could even imagine the sly upturn of his lips while you read them, over and over again. 

Had he suspected that a tingle would begin between your shoulder blades, quickly suppressed before becoming a full shiver? Or that heat would creep up your neck and flush your cheeks?

He wouldn’t be too far off.

Something tender had been blossoming within you, but instead of weeding it out, you found yourself… nurturing it. Succumbing to it, even.

Could something like that really be so terrible? It was certainly worth the pain of the aftermath.

You tucked the note into a hidden pocket in your shift,  biting your bottom lip to keep your excited grin under control.

On the days you received notes, he’d show up later in the evening to walk you home. You knew that as a doctor he led a busy life, but he always made time to see you at least twice a week.

You never asked what he was up to whenever he was absent, but sometimes you did wonder. Whenever you were together, though, you settled for simply enjoying every second of his company. 

You’d walk at a languorous pace, sometimes even braving to hold onto his arm, but that was the extent of your physical contact. Without counting the time he’d patched you up, of course.

Despite how things had progressed, he was still a gentleman.  He understood the importance of discretion as well as you, and that only made these rendezvous more exciting.

The last few hours of the day were torturous, especially since you kept glancing at the clock. Its slow, steady ticking seemed to mock you, so you tried distracting yourself as best as possible.

By closing time, your hands were trembling in anticipation. Still, you pretended to be busy wrapping up as you heard his patient footfalls cross the threshold. 

“Almost done,” you called over your shoulder, offering a covert smile that was reserved for only him.

You went to grab your belongings before quickly re-emerging, and he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”  he sighed, further driving his point across by drinking you in.

You averted your gaze demurely, guiding him out into the warm evening air. “Long day?”

“Longer than I care to admit, but suddenly it doesn’t seem to matter.”

This made you look up at him, and your eyes snagged on something uncharacteristic.

“It explains why you’ve not matched your tie and handkerchief today,” you pointed out teasingly. 

He let out an amused huff, offering you his arm. You threaded your hand into the crook of it without thinking, pressing just a little closer.

“There’s a reason for that, actually,” he said. “You happen to have the matching handkerchief.”

“Oh, I do, don’t I?” You mused, pretending to have forgotten about it, even if it was in your satchel at that very moment. “I apologize, it slipped my mind. I’ll get it to you next time we see each other.”

“Will you?” He tilted his head to one side, raising an eyebrow.

You pursed your lips for a moment, frowning.  Before you could pull away, he lightly pressed his arm against his side, effectively trapping your hand in place.

You let out an irritated huff, staring ahead.“So you think me a thief now?”

He chuckled. “Not at all. I was merely curious.”

“Seems like you feel that way about me most of the time.”

He studied your profile, still grinning. “Can I ask you an uncomfortable question?”

“Sure, why stop now?” 

“Are you clinging to this material possession because it’s a reminder of the kind gesture behind it?”

You thought about it for a moment, unsure of how to answer. The way he posed the question made you suspect he already knew it, but he wanted to hear what you would come up with. 

You opted for being honest, still feeling like you’d been caught red-handed.

“I suppose… It has brought me some comfort, the same way my rosary does. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Your cheeks were ablaze under his amused scrutiny, but you still didn’t meet his eye.

“I was hoping it was something of that nature,” he said finally, arm relaxing.

You didn’t withdraw, but your pride made you remain obstinate. “Now I must insist on returning it as soon as possible.”

“If you’re so adamant… Why don’t you come to my apartment tomorrow? I’ll be around all day taking care of some things,” he offered. “Plus, I need to see how your back is progressing. Some privacy would be nice, don’t you think?”

You weighed the offer, both thrilled and terrified at how big of a step it would be. You definitely didn’t want the madre superiora to start asking questions about the checkups, so this was the only other option. 

Besides, you trusted him. He’d taken his time to earn it, despite your skittishness. With his gentle care, his steady patience, and his efforts to truly see you. The one hidden beneath layers of armor and biting remarks.

And so, the words left your mouth with little reluctance. “Yes, tomorrow works.”

——

It wasn’t until you were in front of the mahogany door, fist raised to knock, that you remembered missing a crucial part of that day’s meeting — setting up a time.

On the one hand, he did say he’d be home all day, but on the other… would he find it in poor taste that you showed up unannounced? Though to be fair, it’d be even more rude not to show up at all…

Before you let your thoughts spiral further, you decided to just suck it up and get it over with. After all, you didn’t really want to leave after making the trip all the way there.

At the first few knocks, the door creaked open slightly, but no one was behind it. You peered through the slit, only seeing the edges of a lavishly decorated living room. 

“Hannibal?” You called tentatively, pushing the door further open.

No response, just an eerie silence. 

You took a step inside, quickly glancing around. No one seemed to be around, and there were no signs of a break-in, which only confused you further.

You thought it might be best to leave his handkerchief along with a note explaining what happened, so you searched for a pen and paper in a nearby cabinet.

In an adjacent room, you could suddenly hear a light thud. It was quiet again for a moment, but then another thud followed, loud enough for you to confirm you weren’t imagining things.

Curiosity overrode your senses and you slid closer to the source of the sound. Just a little down the hallway, you were met with another half-open door — the bifold kind, made of wood and intricately etched glass.

Through a small gap, you could see just a fraction of what seemed to be Hannibal’s bedroom, with the aforementioned sitting at the edge of his bed. His back was to you as he gazed out the window, shoulders slightly hunched forward.

Without thinking, you started to reach for the door’s handle, but a new sound startled you — Labored breathing, interrupted only by a soft, needy whimper. 

You blinked, not daring to believe what you’d heard. It had to be a hallucination; A lustful dream. Perhaps your spirit had risen while you slept and wandered the darkness to find him.

But no, the chill that went through you was as real as day. Your entire body turned to stone as you registered the placement of his hand, and how it was moving at a slow, steady rhythm. 

Your first instinct should have been to turn away, make your presence known and wait in the safety of the other room. To fight against the siren’s lure of his voice in such a vulnerable, uninhibited state.

Instead, you covered your mouth with one hand, unable to tear your gaze away. A tingling sensation began in your extremities as another moan escaped him, followed by what seemed to be an obscenity in a language you did not know.

You shifted infinitesimally, trying to get a better look while remaining hidden. You gripped the doorframe with your free hand, fearing your legs would give out. 

Unbeknownst to you, Hannibal had smelled you as soon as you’d walked into the apartment — soap and incense and just a hint of rosewater. 

His grip on himself tightened as he noted the heady, unmistakable scent of your arousal. 

How he wished that he could bury his face at the source of it and get utterly lost in you;To feel his head cradled by your thighs while he showed you what real paradise was.

His breaths began coming out in short pants, his movements becoming more frantic and desperate. His hips rolled, too, bucking up to meet the movements of his hand as he chased his release.

You could only see part of his profile, his eyes closed and his mouth slack in mindless pleasure. His hips stuttered and he made a sound like a man agonized, weak to his carnal desires. A word that sounded suspiciously close to your name spilled from his lips as he climaxed, the image searing into your mind forever.

It continued to sing in your veins as you snapped back into reality. Your heart was pounding in your ears, so loud you feared it might give you away. 

Automatically, you extricated yourself away from the door and scurried back down the hall. In your haste, you failed to notice his handkerchief falling out of your pocket, right in the middle of the living room.

You shut the front door as quietly as you could, hoping no neighbors saw you making your escape. As you navigated through the streets back home, it all replayed in your mind over and over again, keeping you alight.

You kept your head down the entire way, avoiding eye contact at all costs, lest somebody see the fire in your gaze.

———

A week passed, and there was no word from him. You did not try to reach out to him, either, engulfed in an amalgamation of conflicting emotions.

Your days were spent trying to keep your mind blank, so you took on twice as many tasks. But whenever there was a lull between them, your thoughts would unerringly return to him.

Even in dreams, you were plagued by the memory of him. Most nights, you’d wake up with thighs slicked together, but you hadn’t done anything about the pulsating issue between your legs. You kept your windows open so that the nocturnal breeze might soothe your feverish skin, but it only helped marginally.

At mass, you wondered about the taste of him as you drank communion wine; The feel of his warm skin on your tongue as the wafer was placed upon it. 

You’d become a real heathen, it seemed. Or perhaps you never stopped being one, not even after years of donning the costume of innocence.

Your longing was so vivid that sometimes, the breeze felt like an echo of his touch. It caressed your skin coolly, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It was in those moments that it was easiest to close your eyes and let your mind drift. 

Your hand would wander, resting on your inner thigh — close enough, but still on the safe side. You could feel the heat emanating from your core, further enticing your fingers to inch closer.  Possibly the hardest test of your self-restraint, but you weren’t too sure it was making you any stronger. 

What made things worse, you hadn’t noticed the handkerchief’s disappearance until you’d made it back to the convent.  In a panicked frenzy, you’d retraced your steps looking for it, praying that it was somewhere on the road. 

But, just as you deserved,  your prayers hadn’t been answered.

You’d made it all the way back to his apartment, but this time, the door had been firmly shut. It made dread pool in your stomach, and his subsequent absence only exacerbated it. 

Was it really the end? You wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to you again.

Still, you searched all the usual hiding spots for notes every day, but always came up empty. It felt like a spear through the heart each time, but you tried to bury it deep within.

Until one night, when your self-restraint was at its most fragile and you were trying to digest the idea you might not see him again, your resolve simply shattered.

Your fingers crossed into forbidden territory, and at the first tingle of pleasure, your movements became frantic and desperate. You surrendered to it, losing all other sense. It had been much too long since you had last done it, and all the times you had suppressed yourself had accumulated inside you. 

Once you’d started, it was hard to stop. At the same time, the release wasn’t delayed at all. In fact, it hit you hard and fast, but it did not seem like enough. If anything, it seemed to only whet that yawning appetite of yours even further. 

In the morning, you’d scrubbed your skin raw under a hot stream of water. You attempted to erase any sort of trace of the sins clinging to you, incensed by the fact that you didn’t even think it had been worth it – not at your own hands. 

But how could you ever confess to such a thing? You could barely even—

“May I see it? I’ll need you to take your shoes off so I can assess the damage, Sorella.”

You stopped in your tracks, petrified in the middle of the hallway. You’d recognize that voice anywhere, but it seemed surreal at that moment, especially drifting out of one of the other nun’s rooms. 

You spotted the madre superiora stepping out of said room, and you approached under the guise of benign curiosity. 

Peering into the room, you saw Hannibal kneeling next to the bed. One of his legs was propped up and the sorella carefully set her swollen ankle on his thigh. He examined it delicately, his fingers featherlight on her tender skin.

A sharp bitterness coated your throat and when you swallowed hard, you felt it spreading to your stomach. You tried to control your breathing, trying to keep your grip on your mask of concern.

“Everything okay, Francesca?” You asked her in Italian, keeping your eyes on her. “What happened?”

“Tripped and twisted my ankle,” she responded in the same language, grimacing as he moved her foot slightly to look at it from another angle.

He didn’t look up, but he was still keenly aware of your presence. He smelled the soap and the incriminating scent beneath it, which made him tense a little. 

The ghost of a smile barely made the corners of his lips twitch, but you weren’t sure if you were imagining things. You plastered on a sympathetic grin of your own.

“You’re in good hands, I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time,” you said through your teeth, and you thought you saw him glance through the corner of his eye at you.

“Grazie, Sorella.”

With a nod, you continued on your way, heading down to the kitchen. It was your turn to help with dinner prep, so you’d have some time alone while everyone else worked.

The old kitchen had stone walls and floors, which preserved coolness and provided relief from the heat outside. It was quiet and cozy, probably the best place for you to be in at that moment. 

You started a fire on the old stove and placed a large copper pot full of water atop it. You tried to let your thoughts slip away as you washed and peeled carrots and potatoes. All the years of training yourself to go into autopilot certainly helped, but that same bitter taste was still coating your insides. 

It was after a couple of minutes that you heard footsteps descending the stairs into the kitchen. You didn’t think much of it, staying focused on your task, but then you registered a tall figure stop at the threshold.

 “It seems that I missed you the other day,” you heard him say. “Regardless, thank you for the handkerchief.”

Your gaze snapped up to him, eyes wide and flickering with a primal sort of fear. For a moment you could only stare, caught like a deer in headlights. He only stared back, challenging.

You tilted your head slightly to the side, resuming your task, your grip all too strong. “Don’t you have a patient to attend to, Doctor?”

“I needed to get some ice for Sister Francesca’s foot,” he explained. “Though I am glad I can also check in with my favorite patient. I haven’t been able to see the progress of your wounds for some time now…”

You shrugged, petulant. “I’m in one piece, am I not?”

There was a momentary pause in which the tension was becoming more and more palpable.

He broke the silence. “I sense you’re upset with me about something.”

“I am not upset. Merely working, as are you.”

“I see… Well, would you mind showing me where I can get the ice, please?”

“Allow me,” you sighed. 

You set down what you were working on and stood up from the rickety wooden stool you sat on. Wordlessly, you had him hand you the small bowl he carried and slipped over to the freezer. You bent down a little to reach the ice, still silent as you filled up the bowl for him.

“Here you go, Doc—”

As you turned around, you nearly bumped right into him. You let out a startled gasp, given that you hadn’t even heard him approach behind you.  You took a small step back, nervously glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else was coming.

“Thank you kindly,” he said, taking the bowl back but not moving an inch otherwise.

His amber eyes held yours, incandescent once more with desire. You swallowed hard, a knot twisting in your stomach riotously. You clenched and unclenched your fists at your sides.

“Is that it?” You whispered.

He took a step closer and you backed up once more, your back pressing against the freezer. Your heart leaped to your throat — an appropriate response for a cornered lamb with almost nonexistent chances of escape.

“No, I don’t think I’m quite done here yet,” he responded, his voice equally low.

You shuddered. “What is this? What are these games you’re trying to play with me?”

He tilted his head in silent question.

“You know what I’m talking about. All along, you have charmed me. You have led me astray by the heartstrings and—and you have incited sinful ideas in my mind, tainting me!”

He had the gall to smile slyly, eyes narrowing slightly. “And how, pray tell, have I done that?”

You pursed your lips, having already spoken too much for your own liking. He smiled, a little too smug.

“No? You don’t wish to tell me?” He pressed. “I know why. You wouldn’t be able to deny that you hid behind my door, silent as a church mouse, and watched me during a most intimate moment?”

He leaned in closer, effectively looming over you. “You wouldn’t deny it, because you were taught lying is a sin.”

You let out a pitiful sound, something between a sharp exhale and a whimper. The two of you stood there in the charged silence, searching each other’s gazes. He reached down for your hand and slowly brought it up to his face, only closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply.

Then, you felt the gentle brush of his full lips against the pads of your fingers, kissing softly. You felt his tongue lightly trace your ring finger and sparks shot down your spine, threatening to make you spasm violently.

“Was this the hand you used when you thought of that moment?” He murmured.

You couldn’t react. You couldn’t move. You could barely even breathe. 

He pressed one more kiss on your hand before calmly letting it go at your side. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something and yet also unsure of what it should be. He understood all the same, seeing everything he needed to know written on your face. 

“Thank you again for the ice,” he said with a wink.

With that, he departed, leaving you still trying to pull your thoughts into order.

——

“Therefore, behold, I will allure her,

Bring her into the wilderness,

And speak kindly to her.”

-Hosea 2:14

His very first note. You’d read it over and over again. His words had always been clear,  but you’d willingly chosen to overlook their intentions and play along. 

It was easy to get away with it when it was that simple: just words on paper. The rest was merely skimming the surface, speaking around the things you actually wanted to say. Communicating subtly through gestures and lingering eye contact.

You looked up at the moon — only a sliver of light, like a winking eye. You felt like a live wire, muscles taut and a restless spirit. At that point, you didn’t think you could be subtle any longer… and you didn’t want to be, either. 

And so you ran in the cover of night, only a thick coat and a sleeping shift covering you. You felt, for the first time in a really long time, the wind tousling your hair. It felt strange being so exposed, but an almost frightening sense of freedom came along with it.  

What could this say about you? That all along you were beyond saving, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise? 

At least, you never pretended not to be easily swayed — At the first delicate word or piercing glance; The first stab of hunger, adoration, need. Easily malleable, body and soul.

You hurried up the steps of his apartment building, trying to keep the sound of your panting breaths to a minimum. Your fist connected with his door immediately, urgently, and you couldn’t even worry about what time it was or if you were being terribly impolite.

Then he opened the door, eyes wide and hair slightly disheveled. Next thing you knew, you were crashing into his arms, reaching up to bring his face to yours. You slid your lips over his in a searing, desperate kiss. Your knees buckled, but he held you up, pulling you closer.

His mouth eagerly captured your soft, dizzied whimpers, his tongue coaxing more of them.  He maneuvered the two of you past the threshold, closing the door behind you. 

You let your coat fall to the floor, one less unnecessary layer between you. You broke apart to catch your breath, his forehead leaning against yours. It took a moment for the two of you to register it wasn’t a dream, hands touching each other’s faces, necks, and shoulders; Solidifying together.

“Cara mia,”  he rasped, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. “It has become unbearable, has it not? Trying to untangle the thorns of our affections?”

“Truly sacrilegious. Perhaps that torment was our punishment.”

“Only a cruel God creates pleasure but forces his creatures to abstain from it,” he said, his hands ghosting down your back.

His hot breath fanned over your lips, so close and yet so far. You planted a kiss on his enticing top lip, still holding his gaze, your eyes obsidian in the darkness of the room.

You’d let the serpent wrap tightly around you, hissing your darkest desires into your ear. Why, then, must you heed another God when you were becoming so devout to this one?

“Show me,” you breathed.

With careful, patient hands, he slid your night shift off your shoulders and down your arms. He kept his eyes on yours, anchoring you to the moment. The tips of his fingers traced little lines of fire on your skin. You wore no undergarments, so you were quickly bare for his appraisal, in complete contrast to his dressed form.

Almost unconsciously, you reached for the buttons of his pajama shirt. He stood absolutely still, letting you slowly uncover him as well. Once the last button was undone, you pushed it off, hands experimentally roaming over the expanse of his chest.

Then you were kissing him again, unable to help his gravitational pull. Your bare skin against his felt electric, and all you wanted to do was press even closer. He pulled you up into his arms and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to his bedroom, gently setting you down on the edge of the bed. 

He broke the kiss in order to turn his bedside lamp on, more than eager to get a better look. His eyes slid over the expanse of you, desirous to familiarize himself with every single inch. The intensity of it felt like he was already caressing you, but his hands were currently at his sides.

“There has never been a more beautiful sight,” he murmured reverently. “Not the rising sun or a saint’s statue. Not even Venus emerging from the sea.”

Heat crept up your neck and towards your face. You shifted, suddenly feeling a little prudish under his assessment. Old habits died hard, you supposed, but you wouldn’t let them overtake you. 

One of his hands made contact with your leg. He caressed up your calf and stopped at the knee, slowly pushing one leg apart from the other. You sighed softly, arching in a silent plea for more.

“Yeah?” He rasped, a feline sort of grin on his handsome face. 

Impatient, you reached for his hand, pulling him towards you. His lips found yours for a moment before moving to your jaw and down the slope of your throat.  

His hands roamed all over, mapping out every curve, every plane, every dip, and swell. You found yourself submitting amiably to the pleasure of his touch, beating down that guilt that had been forcibly rooted in you.

His mouth continued to trail downwards, teeth grazing the fleshiest parts. He delighted in your twitching and the hums of pleasure you tried to contain. Licking around your navel, he made your whole body shudder, hips bucking.

“H-Hannibal,” you gasped.

“You can tell me if you want me to stop at any point,” he said, looking up at you.

You nodded in understanding, urging him closer by pressing the heel of your foot against his back. He chuckled, kneeling on the floor by the bed and kissing your inner thigh with a fondness that melted you.

And when you felt his breath on your slick folds, you knew you were a lost cause. You wanted to arch again but he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer, his mouth sealing over your most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream at the initial shock of pleasure, eyes wide as saucers. Oh, you’d forgotten what ecstasy a skilled tongue could bring, but never before had you experienced one quite like his.

He was voracious but unhurried, tongue lapping at you with gusto. You trembled underneath him, burying your hands in his hair, holding on for dear life, and yet also not wanting him to pull away.

At first, your moans were restrained, kept behind your bitten lip. He knew you were holding back, trying to keep yourself away from the edge, and he simply couldn’t allow that.

“You taste divine,” he rasped, looking up at you. “I could sup on you for days.”

Your eyes met his for a moment before you quickly looked away, blushing deeply once more. You covered your face with one hand, embarrassed at being so wanton, so obscenely disheveled in his presence.

“Why do you hide, Tesoro?” He purred. “Are you afraid of showing me just how much you’re enjoying yourself?”

“I—” 

But before you could utter another word,  his tongue dipped into your cunt, his nose slightly brushing against your sensitive clit. A loud moan escaped you at that, and he groaned along with you. 

“That’s more like it,” he pulled away for a moment to give you a sly grin before diving back in.

“Hannibal, please, I don’t think I can…” Your panting words faded into a sharp exhale as he found your sweet spot. 

He was relentless now, strategically targeting the spots he discovered made you react more.

You squirmed at the lewd sounds your body made as he ravished you, but more and more you were lost in that blissful haze. The muscles of your abdomen tightened and you felt yourself steadily climbing to the peak of your pleasure.

As you got closer, you began to chase it with wild abandon, bucking your hips and grinding against his face — a much better replacement for your own hand. Your moans and hitching breaths were music to his ears, and the sight of you coming utterly undone for him forever seared in his mind.

You rode out waves of unadulterated euphoria, feeling it all over your being like licking flames. He’d only been the kerosene to that spark that had been growing inside you, and it wouldn’t be so simple to extinguish.

As you lay there in the aftermath, still panting from the intensity of it all, he kissed his way back up your body. You tasted yourself on his lips, growing ravenous at the mere thought of the communion of your beings. 

“I need you,” you whispered. “I need all of you.”

“I’m yours for the taking,” he said earnestly, like a vow that he’d never break. “How do you want me?”

“Just like this,” you said with a rising fever, bringing your knees to his hips. “I want to forget where you end and I begin.”

The words seemed to unleash something within him, a sort of primal response that flickered in his amber gaze. He claimed your mouth once more as if intent on consuming you completely. His body was firmly pressed to yours, his weight a welcomed comfort. Then, you felt him push into you ever so slowly, the stretch both foreign and yet also familiar;  Something you recalled from eons past, but never like this. 

A lot of things felt new with him, completely reawakening you in ways you’d never thought possible. You gasped into his kiss, clawing at his back as he fully sank in. His pace was slow at first, savoring the closeness, pelvis grinding against yours. He was intoxicated with your warmth, your smell, your taste. Driven wild by it, even. 

You responded with equal fervor, the two of you intent on marking each other in any way you could. Completely surrendering to just physical sensations, a mindless sort of ecstatic violence. The wolf’s arrival to its most anticipated devouring. 

Soon you were pleading with him for more, to go faster, harder. He obeyed your every command seamlessly as if already understanding what your body needed. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive flesh of your neck, teeth and tongue on your pulsating artery. 

You fell apart under him once more, face twisted in rapturous agony, his name on your lips. But that didn’t stop either of you, too frenzied from all the longing, all the time you had to restrain yourselves. It was a marvel, really, that you had held off for as long as you did. 

He rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as you gyrated them, head thrown back in ecstasy. He let you set your own pace like that, content with watching you continue to unravel atop him.

The rest of the night was like an opium dream, stretching infinitely and intensely. No corner of the bed was left untouched, your bodies twisting and bending and colliding in all sorts of positions.

Not once did you extricate yourself from one another, not even as exhaustion overtook you, plunging you into the best sleep you’d ever had. 

———

Rolling green hills and vast plains sped past the window beside you, a few farmhouses and groups of cows scattered between. The metallic shuddering of the train dimly filled your ears, accompanied by soft conversations. Your mind was far away, beyond the idyllic visage unfurling before you.

It was the first time you’d ever been outside of Italy. It was a drastic change, one that was a  little frightening, but a welcome one, too. So far, the French countryside was an appealing mystery that you wanted to uncover, and you had all the time in the world.

Your eyes then focused on your faint reflection in the window, not recognizing yourself for a moment. You were still getting used to wearing regular clothes again, especially when you showed more than you used to, even if it was all still modest. Your eyes seemed clearer, more alive, and the dark crescents underneath them were slowly disappearing.

Guilt still reared its’ ugly head from time to time, twisting your stomach into knots. But it was losing some of its viciousness, and you had help escaping spiraling thoughts and physical punishments. You’d been healing nicely, or at least you were in the process of it, anyway.

You felt Hannibal’s finger tracing down your bare arm, and you looked away from the window to face him. He smiled as your eyes met, noticing how you almost instinctively leaned closer to him. You brought your hand to his, and he looked down at the golden band around your finger. 

“What are you thinking of, Cuore mio?” He asked, voice low and intimate. 

His tone made you think of the way he’d recited his vows to you on that late night under the stars, when the two of you decided you could never be parted; Something only for you to share, no one to prove your love to. 

“How everything seems so endless now, stretching farther than I ever could’ve fathomed,” you said, looking around you. “Nothing seems contained. I can no longer see the edges. Does that sound absurd?”

He kissed your hand, smile widening. “No, not absurd. At our crossroads, a new path made itself clear to me. There is no end in sight, but I intend to follow through.”

The truth was you could scarcely see the division between the two of you; Blurred in such a way that it was like living through each other. You felt him sitting amidst the pews of your ribcage, listening to the hymns of your heart. Your flesh was his flesh, your breath his own. 

And even stranger… it felt a little too much like freedom, which he had presented to you on a silver platter.

You leaned in and kissed him softly, almost chastely. When it came down to it, you liked to savor him slowly, letting the anticipation build over time. The look in your eyes was adoring, but there was also that feverish glint that he’d come to recognize. 

“How long until we’re there?” you murmured. 

He chuckled lightly. “You’ve become quite insatiable, haven’t you?”

“Can you blame a poor sinner like me?”

The tip of his nose grazed yours. “Not when I am so keen on indulging you.”

The announcer’s voice came on over the intercom, listing the remaining stations. You recognized the name of your destination, at the very end of the train’s line. You rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you continued to gaze out of the window, savoring the beginnings of your new life together.

The sun continued its slow trail across the sky, its rays lengthening and bathing everything in golden light. In your eyes, this was the real Paradise, the place you’d been searching for most of your life. 

And it was even more beautiful than you had ever envisioned.

---

#hannibal lecter fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x fem!reader #minors dni

[naturallyadventured]

chepzi

Embracing your #Venus 🧝🏼‍♀️by @v_collective_ // 🤎 Coffee exfoliating scrub with golden “Solar” by @salvia.apothecary and @fernolivia balancing hormones oils 🤍⚱️

fernolivia

MUJER DE SANTA TERESA🌹🌊 Pura libertad, expresión, belleza, fuerza, sensibilidad, elegancia, poder, salvajismo. En cualquier forma, tamaño, color, peso, altura o textura. Acompañante y nutritiva. Independiente y empoderada. Suave y delicada. Guerrera y pasional. Ella es movimiento y placer, quietud y oscuridad. Ella, mujer. these words by @mayas.yoga ~ WOMAN OF SANTA TERESA🌹❤️ Pure freedom, expression, beauty, strength, sensitivity, elegance, power, wildness. In any shape, size, color, weight, height, or texture. Companionship and nourishment. Independent and empowered. Soft and delicate Fighter and passionate. She is movement and pleasure, stillness and darkness. She, woman. ~ Thank you so much to all of you gorgeous women in yesterday's Embracing Your Venus event in collab with my dear soul sisters @salvia.apothecary and @jardindevenus at @zunya. I love how we uplifted our skin with beautiful botanicals and then uplifted each other to be free and confident in our skin as we merged our bare skin with the grounds of local coffee, and drops of gold Solar oil and Radiance body oil.... then nutured each other back and shoulder massages, topless hugs to feel even more heart-connection... wow, if we can empower each other to feel comfortable and safe in our sensuality, we can empower all those women around us by BEing HERe. 🌹❤️ Loving ourselves deeply, we move from a place of lust to a place of embodied wholeness and sensual confidence that radiates outward and attracts sacred partnerships and deep friendships rooted in our true nature 🌿🌸🌊 To all my sisters around the world embodying her sacred feminine with grace, thank you. 🌎🌸 Thank you for loving your skin. Thank you for embodying your Venus. 🌹❤️ Men who are supporting this sacred beauty and witnessing us, for helping us to feel safe in our skin and for holding space for our light and shadows, to be expressed and liberated, rising together as we unite and share love on Earth... thank you.🌎🙏❤️ I see you. You are me and I am you. 🌊🙏🌊

#Instagram

[momo-de-avis]

hi! I hope you're having a lovely day :) feel free to ignore this if you don't want to do more work on tumblr lol, but you seem very knowledgeable about all sorts of historical and touristy things in Portugal, so I figured I'd ask anyway!

I'm going to north Portugal in September on my honeymoon, we're spending 5 days in Porto, then a couple of days near the Douro valley, and then a few days near Manteigas in the Serra da Estrela national park.

me and my husband are both very into museums/art galleries and historic buildings - is there anything in Porto that we absolutely shouldn't miss whilst we're there? is there any particular food we should try? do you have any recommendations for cafes or restaurants to visit?

Hi! Very glad to answer!

Porto is beautiful and I promise you are going to love it, and I admit I'm excited about you going to Serra da Estrela. It's so quiet at that time of the year, all you hear is nature, it's just so peaceful. Also, please try the cheese. Serra da Estrela cheese is a sin, it's so good, and you can go straight to the source there.

In Porto, there is a lot to see, especially if you enjoy museums, monuments and galleries, so I'll list a few things:

Palácio da Bolsa is a must, in my opinion. I believe they have guided tours, if you are interested in that.

Clérigos Church, Hospital and Tower. The view from up there is amazing, but the whole building is rich with history and super interesting, and the church is beautiful.

Porto's Cathedral, which includes the Chapter House and has some amazing artworks inside.

The entire area of the old Borrough of Porto, which is the hill where the Cathedral sits on. That is where the oldest house in Porto is (in Beco dos Redemoinhos, it's about 700 years old), or where the "stairs of the queen" also are, said to have been the stairs taken Countess Teresa on her way to the church that would later become the Cathedral, and the watch tower in front of it.

There are points of interest you might come across as must-sees in Porto but you're better off standing there looking at it cause they're either expensive or they're a McDonalds. The McDonalds building is beautiful, yes. Majestic café is a unique art nouveau building, but it's SO expensive.

On that note, Lello. Lello is interesting and super beautiful, I am not one to discourage people from visiting it. But expect a long line. (it's right next to Clérigos and you can see it from there...). However, you can buy the tickets online (I think they're 5€) and that allows you to skip the line, and if you buy a book, the price of the ticket is deducted from your purchase.

For museums, Soares dos Reis has a lot of art, from painting to sculpture to decorative arts, and it's rich with some of the most important portuguese artists, focused mostly on the circle of Porto, especially from the 19th century.

Porto is known ofr being a vast sea of blue and white tiles. You don't have to look for them, you will just find them. However, Capelinha das Almas and Church of Santo Ildefonso are a good example (Ildefonso stares at Clérigos directly... they were once rivals).

And on THAT note... São Bento Train Station. It is worth it just standing there admiring the architecture and the tiles (keep in mind a lot of these things are stuff you can just include on a long walk)

Some streets... Rua das Flores, or famously Rua de Santa Catarina (where you'll find Majestic and Capelinha das Almas) they're all just very nice walks. Same for Ribeira (the riverside). No plans, just a walk while enjoying the view.

If you are interested in Contemporary Art, Fundação Serralves. At the very least, the gardens are wonderful and they're just a great place to rest and enjoy the afternoon (I think they have cafés there too, but I haven't been there in years, now).

Go on a Douro Valley tour. I cannot emphasise how great these are. You get to visit a handful of cellars, try several wines and enjoy a ride across the Douro. In Porto itself, they also have boat rides across the Douro, some might have wine, I'm not sure, but I find it so much more enriching to do a Douro Valley tour and be able to visit the cellars.

As for food and where to eat, I am not going to give you any restaurant names because I KNOW I have people from Porto who follow me and they can answer that better than I can, but there's 2 things I usually tell people to try in Porto.

One, of course, is Francesinha. It's going to feel like it's a lot. I call it a tower of bread with fibre for days. But try it, because nowhere else in Portugal can they make them as well as they make them in Porto. Besides it's one of the most important hallmarks of Porto culture, and I find that it's a fundamental experience in your journey to try Francesinha. It's like going to Valencia and trying Paella, you just HAVE to.

The other one is a personal opinion and choice of mine because, well, Portugal is known for codfish dishes and my all time favourite codfish dish was born in Porto and it's Bacalhau à Gomes Sá. If I'm not mistaken, it was born on a restaurant that was nearby Ribeira, somewhere in that area, and they actually put up a goddamn plaque celebrating this

Ribeira is the easiest place to find this dish, but it's going to be above average in price (I can guarantee you someone will come into this post to scream that it's a complete theft how expensive it is, but we're just poor and cheapskates, and the restaurants aren't bad. Again, they're going to be above average but not all are ridiculously overprices).

On a final note, if you're interested in doing a walk tour of Porto, there are several companies that do so, but I happen to know a guide who is currently living and working in Porto and I can ask her availability and you guys can agree on something if you're interested. Just let me know!

I hope you have an amazing time!!!!

Anything else, let me know!!

#also try green wine #it's not from Porto it's from Minho but you're close enough to get the good stuff

[despairforme]

💫 talA!

[ POSITIVITY MEME! ] ( always accepting! I am just slow at answering them--- )  

[ TALA !!!!!!!!! Thank you for sending this anon, I'm happy to get to talk about Tala! ( I know this is super late, I'm getting to these v slowly bc I gotta be in the right headspace to write them to write them properly and not rush them !! ) --- ANYWAYS. Tala is easily one of my favorite people on here. Also one of my oldest friends. We have been following each other for ??? Ever ??? She is a big inspiration to me. I'm always in awe at how many amazing, unique and thought-out characters she is able to create. Making OCs is ( imo ) pretty difficult, and she does it with such ease. Not only that, but she also manages to write them all differently, giving them all a different voice. They don't bleed into each other. I'm fascinated and impressed at all the original lore concepts she has, and how she manages to create such deep connections between both her own OCs, and other people's muses as well. AND ALSO, in addition to having insane creativity, she's also a wonderful writer. She has such steady story-telling, so you can really see the scenes come alive when you read them. The details, the way her characters dialogue is written? SUCH a good read. I always feel spoiled when she answers my asks and there is a whole waterfall of beautiful paragraphs to read.

I have been fortunate and blessed by her friendship. She's always been supportive of me. She's kind, and interacts with my posts. Seeing her on my dash gives me good vibes. I love reading her little OOC posts and her little dash commentaries. Like, when she's gotten an ask from someone (Ambie, for example), and she posts a heart-eye gif T - T So cute and precious. She has such a sweet personality that just makes you want to be around her and interact with her.

I'm lucky to get to write with her. She has SO many interesting characters. I've only been able to write with a few so far ( compared to how many she has in her roster ). I have a few favorites, of course--- Santa Teresa, for example ( hence the icon ). But also Sasaharu, Kerb, Yomi, PChan, Uekawa, Shane, Hachi --- yeah the list goes on. I forever want to follow her, read her threads, see her create new OCs, chat with her, and of course write with her!! 5 / 5 a favorite blog and creator. ]

#[ THIS IS V LATE I'M SLOWLY GETTING TO THESE ] #nvrcmplt #[ thank you for sending anon! ] #toby post. ╱ out of character. #trail of blood. ╱ queue.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Welcome to the 12 Days of Christmas countdown to Christmas Day. We've 11 days left!!

Twas the Night

Summary: Chiron stays up with his child on Christmas Eve.

Tags: Chiron x Kevin, dads

Three Christmases had passed since Chiron and Kevin adopted Lil Blue, the blessing that brought so much light and joy into Chiron's life.

The very moment the birth mother laid the tiny baby in Chiron's strong arms was like a dream. He looked up at her nervous in his spirit, as if she'd change her mind, see the perfect small soul that he saw and take him back, but when she didn't.. his eyes began to water in gratitude and after ten minutes of staring at the newborn, it hit him.. this was his baby. He wiped the tears from his cheeks with his forearm, looking up at Kevin for the first time.

Kevin had been through this with the birth of his biological children, he understood the exact feeling floating like a large butterfly inside Chiron and he gave a gentle smile.

Having his own child to love and who would love him scared Chiron. He didn't know the first thing about being a father, but he knew there was a lot of love in his heart.. and he remembered what it was like when he found Blue and Teresa.

He felt safe, welcomed, loved, and warm. These were the feelings he wanted to pass down to Lil Blue.. Which is why he was brimming with anxious excitement for the first Christmas that Lil Blue would truly experience and possibly remember.

For the first year, Santa was a big topic. All December, Kevin and Chiron circulated Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer, and all the old cartoons. They drank cocoa with marshmallows and whipped cream. They decorated a tall green tree from Walmart with muliticolored bulbs, and lights, raising Lil Blue high in the air to put the angel on top. She would pray over the house as they slept, Kevin told Lil Blue.

The night before Christmas came, Kevin baked gingerbread and shortbread cookies. Lil Blue was his kitchen helper, messily decorating the cookies and eating the frosting. He was covered in it from head to toe with cookie crumbs on his lip and Kevin could only laugh.

"For Santa papa."

"Yeah, let's save some for Santa," Kevin cleaned the crumbs and icing from Lil Blue's face. "How many cookies should we leave him?"

With wet fingers, Lil Blue arranged a few on a dish, spilling milk all over the table as he poured a cold glass for Santa.

"Let’s put some away for daddy," Kevin said putting away the rest of the cookies. Chiron wasn't a fan of sweets, but he'd eat them if Kevin or Lil Blue gave them to him. "Let's get cleaned up," Kevin whispered holding Lil Blue's head affectionately. "Then you can go tell daddy goodnight."

After a bath, that's exactly what their son did. He found Chiron in bed resting and woke him up to hug him. "Goodnight daddy!"

Kevin laughed silently as Chiron eyed him, but it was their plan. He knew Chiron would regret sleeping through it. It the best idea that they'd been keeping a secret. He settled in bed and watched Chiron get up to tuck Lil Blue into his own bed.

"Twas the night before Christmas.. and all through the house.. not a creature was staring.. not even a mouse," he read aloud watching Lil Blue get sleepier, his little lids heavy. It was cute and when he got a little older he'd appreciate the stories. "Hey.." whispered very quietly. "Do you wanna wait up for Santa?" It was a definite yes as he expected. "Yeah?"

Lil Blue grinned, still sleepy but climbing out of bed in excitement. He wanted to hear more about Santa's reindeer.

Chiron felt like a kid again, just as excited.

"I met Santa," he smiled watching the awe in his son's eyes. "We had a conversation about Rudolph.. Do you know what he told me? He said when Rudolph flies you can see the red light from his nose through your window."

Immediately a red light shined from outside into the window and Lil Blue lost his toddler mind in pure excitement, staring out the window at the sky as Chiron watched with a deep fuzzy warmness in his chest. He knew it was Kevin outside but to their child it was the magic of Christmas.

"Shh," Chiron whispered quickly catching Lil Blue's eager attention. "He's here. He can't know you're up or you won't get any presents.. We can sneak a peak at him but you have to be very, very quiet.."

It was the best Lil Blue had ever listened. He was quiet as a mouse, grinning and staring around the corner from his floor position as Kevin walked through the apartment in a full Santa suit and beard. He ate the cookies, drank the milk, and played it up. And when he looked back, Lil Blue hid.

Chiron put him back in bed and tucked him in.

"Goodnight," he kissed him on the forehead. "Go to sleep because when you wake up.. it'll be Christmas."

Merry Early Christmas

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @nobodybaby93 @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @tgigoldie @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybee @playgurlxoxo

#original #trevante rhodes fanfiction #moonlight chiron #moonlight #chiron #chiron fanfic #moonlight fanfiction #chiron x kevin

[your-local-hollow-lover]

🍎, 🗨, and 🛌 for Ulquiorra and Nnoitra?

SEND ONE FOR A HC

-Ulquiorra

🍎 - What’s their favorite food?

I think Ulquiorra would go for foods that are not overwhelming for him, like tofu. Once he's used to eating regular human food, he might have a taste for sweet stuff. He affirms he doesn't a "favorite" food.

🗨️ - What’s their texting style like?

Dry. Monosyllabic. He leaves you on seen most of the time lol

🛌 - What’s their sleeping position?

If he ever gets comfy enough to sleep, he does so on his back, with his hands resting over his torso. Doesn't use a pillow.

-Nnoitra

🍎 - What’s their favorite food?

Nnoitra is not very fond of the uncomfortably nice sensations he gets from eating warm human food. Raw meat is one of his tops.

🗨️ - What’s their texting style like?

Can go three days or more without texting back. Nnoitra gets to it when he feels the discussing urge to know from you. However, his style is blunt and short. He uses a lot of capital letters sometimes.

🛌 - What’s their sleeping position?

He sleeps sitting with his back against the wall, elbows leaned over his knees, head hanging down. Santa Teresa rests beside him.

#prompts #ulquiorra #ulquiorra bleach #nnoitra bleach #nnoitra jiruga #nnoitra gilga

[miedkha]

Some Girls

#some girls are bigger than others #santa teresa feelings

[lullabyestarrynight]

1 Week Blog Entries

Monday 4/10/23

There are no classes today and I am preparing my things for school like washing my bag and cleaning my shoes for tomorrow. It’s the last day of the long holy week vacation and I used my time to be in silence while also cleaning the house and doing my laundry. Overall it has been a productive day for me.

Tuesday 4/11/23

It’s school day today and I felt like everyone was still hungover from the long vacation, we didn’t do anything besides talking to the teacher today about what we learned from our Immersion experience. Each group passed one recipe/procedure from what we learned in the company we worked. We went home early today and I had extra time to buy what I needed from the wet market.

Wednesday 4/12/23

I had one of the worst insomnia attacks today. I wasn’t able to go to school because I slept at almost 9 in the morning from last night and I believe it was the cause of my headache today. I know I can’t function properly at school if I didn’t have enough sleep so I thought I might feel better if I catch up on some zzzs.

Thursday 4/13/23

I am was in school today. I submitted my lacking outputs to my teachers, I hope they won’t mark it as late. I am taking down notes on things that I needed to do to catch up. I was sad today because we had a quiz and I got a score of one over twenty. Really a depressing outcome of events this day.

Friday 4/14/23

Today is Parents-Teacher Association Meeting. Although it was intended for parents only, I attended the meeting since I’m really interested about the topics our teacher was going to talk about. I wrote down some notes so I won’t forget the details. It was about the Graduation Ball and the Graduation event itself. I am exhilarated by the thought of me finally graduating.

Saturday 4/15/23

Me and our group mates had some dance practice at Santa Teresa de Avila Church in Poblacion, Talisay City. Afterwards, we went to a dressmaker to take their measurements for the skirt to be used as their costume. I was worried about the cost of the skirts since we would be needing over three thousand pesos for it.

Sunday 4/16/23

Today is Sunday and I am planning to buy the red satin cloth for the skirts today and at the same time attend mass in Santo Niño in Cebu City. When I get home, I will give the cloth to the dressmaker so they can start right away. I am anxious about the outcome of this dance.

#Sagittarius

[oliviab-scstudyabroad]

An Afternoon in Brazil (Part II)

Hey guys! Here’s Part II to my Uruguay road trip. My friend Karen and I woke up early on Saturday morning and started to make a breakfast that consisted of a fruit salad, leftover chorizo, oatmeal, and coffee. As people woke up, they also helped out by making eggs, setting the table, etc. I went outside for a little bit and enjoyed the peaceful view of the countryside. There was a guy that came by riding his horse, clearly on his way to work, and I thought, “So this is the life of a gaucho (Latin-American cowboy). It was so peaceful, and I was grateful that I could relax and enjoy the morning without feeling rushed to get somewhere. After cleaning up, we went to the Quebrada de Los Cuervos National Park. We were able to swim in the lagoons there, and the water was freezing but refreshing! It truly felt like a little slice of heaven because we were away from everything, and we had the whole place to ourselves. We spent a few hours there, and then we hiked a little bit and saw some fantastic panoramic views of the whole park! I felt like I was in the Amazon; the forest was so lush and there were rivers flowing in and out of each other.

We then made the four-hour drive to Punta del Diablo, which is on the Uruguayan coast. As you can imagine, we listened to tons of music, including songs from each of our countries! My Uruguay Playlist grew a ton by the end of the trip. It’s interesting, however, that everyone knew the lyrics to several songs in English, including “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen, “Africa” by Toto, and “Can’t Stop” by The Red Hot Chili Peppers. My friends explained to me that they learn to speak English as a second language at a very young age, and they consume lot of media (including movies, music, and social media posts) that is in English. It really goes to show that English is the universal language, and it made me thing about how the U.S. could do better in creating a firm foundation for students in a foreign language. As soon as we got to our Airbnb (a 7-minute walk from the beach!) we went straight to bed.

On Sunday morning, we woke up, made breakfast, this one including Uruguayan sweets that combine well with mate. My favorite Uruguayan treats are the ojitos (little cookies that have a mixture with egg yolk and sugar in the middle- they do look like little eyes!) and any type of cookie that has dulce de leche. After, we drove 30 minutes to a town called Chuí that is on the border of Uruguay and Brazil! I hadn’t realized how close we were to the border, but thankfully I had brought my passport. We didn’t have to stop in any sort of Customs (I suppose because people drive back and forth all the time), so when we got to Chuy, we parked the car and walked to Brazil! The street that we crossed was a two-lane road: on one side is the Avenida Uruguay, where all the shops are in Spanish, and on the other side is Avenida Brazil, where all the shops are in- you guessed it- Portuguese! We looked like such tourists taking videos of us stepping into Brazil. That was one of my favorite memories of the trip.

Once in Brazil, we walked around and peered into some of the shops. We didn’t spend a lot of time in time in Chuí because there wasn’t too much to see, but I did get an ice cream. I don’t know why I was so astounded by the fact that all the packaging was in Portuguese! When checking out, I said “obrigada”, which means “thank you” in Portuguese, to the cashier. I couldn’t help myself. After, we drove to the Barra de Chui, which is a section of the beach that has a rock barrier dividing Uruguay and Brazil! There were families with their young children, people fishing, etc. Again, I was blown away at how easily people can cross borders here! I think it’s such a crazy concept for me because it’s not as simple geographically to travel to other countries from the U.S.

After our outing in Brazil, we stopped in Santa Teresa National park, where we wandered and got panchos (hot dogs) and churros de dulce de leche. I enjoyed strolling through the Botanical Gardens and Greenhouses and watching the sun set! We then drove back home and had yet another fantastic dinner with our chorizo, again cooked over a wood-burning fire.

The next day was unfortunately the last day of our great Uruguayan adventure, so we made the most of it by spending time at the beach. Punta del Diablo, or Devil’s Point, got its name because of the plentitude of rocks that create massive waves. Many professional surfers come to surf at Devil’s Point. Because of this, the waves were alarmingly big, so we stayed close to the shoreline. We then packed up and made the 3-hour trek home without forgetting to stop at a carrito to get tortas fritas with dulce de leche. You can say that I felt a little ill after all the dulce de leche that I consumed this trip. In between naps, we sang classic Uruguayan songs and laughed all the way home.  

I loved everything about this trip- the sights that I saw, the food that I tried, and most of all, the people I went with. Everyone was up for everything, and we made a great time mapping places out, cooking most of our meals, etc. Though the interior of Uruguay is different from Montevideo in the fact that it’s mostly countryside, I appreciated its tranquil vibe and the natural landscapes. I now get why people are so proud to be from the interior. There are 19 departments in Uruguay, so I hope to check off the other 16!

[its-tea-time-darling]

❤️thomesa secret santa fics❤️

I WAS SO HAPPY THERE WERE TWO WHOLE THOMESA FICS THIS YEAR I AM <333333333333333333333333333!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! aka, summary post for thomesa fics written for @mazerunnersecretsanta 2022.

This Love (Tea's Version)

by @nice-to-meet-ya-shank for @its-tea-time-darling

Teresa and Thomas are teenagers and madly in love. Things are going well -- in fact, things are going so perfectly, they start to feel like they're in a coming-of-age movie with a happy ending -- when Teresa abruptly runs away from home a few months after turning 17. Thomas is left to pick up the pieces.

Eight years later, they stumble into each other again as if fate has tied its red thread into their very souls, and now have to figure each other out again after having grown up and apart for almost a decade.

M / 5k

In There Where the Truth Lies

by @pathsofoak for @nice-to-meet-ya-shank

Janson shoots Thomas and Teresa while they run from him in WCKD's tower in the Last City, but only one survives. Teresa spends her first months isolated in the Safe Haven, struggling to come to terms with what happened as she cannot stop blaming herself for what happened to Thomas...

T / 5k

#maze runner #the maze runner #tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr thomas #tmr teresa #teresa agnes #thomesa #i have not screamed enough about how much i loved my gift!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #and oak's fic was just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #makes my skin tingle for thomesa week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #maze runner secret santa #tmrss22

[coffeeoysterlayaway]

OK...about Santa Teresa.

Was it beautiful? Yes!

Did it offer amenities you would typically find in your comfortable life as a westerner? Absolutely.

Is it worth the trek? Quite frankly—and honestly—not exactly.

For those who crave the unbeaten path, this path in Santa Teresa is beaten. I worry when the morally corrupt and spiritually vacant feel right at home.

For those eager to be in a place that is not like home, who are comfortable living with enough necessities without losing the local vibe, Santa Teresa is not for us.

I did not leave my western country to find more of what I have at home as well as the people I hope to avoid.

It's horribly expensive.

There isn't much to do.

The beaches are fine, although Playa Hermosa is better.

Don't get me wrong. It's OK. But it was good for one trek and one trek only.

Back to our regular programming.

#blue sky #photography #costa rica #iphonography #travel #travelling #blog #blogging #truth #facts

[byneddiedingo]

Patricia Collinge, Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Henry Travers, Charles Bates, Edna May Wonacott in Shadow of a Doubt (Alfred Hitchcock, 1943) Cast: Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Henry Travers, Patricia Collinge, Hume Cronyn, Janet Shaw. Screenplay: Thornton Wilder, Sally Benson, Alma Reville, Gordon McDonell. Cinematography: Joseph A. Valentine. Art direction: John B. Goodman. Film editing: Milton Carruth. Music: Dimitri Tiomkin. Thornton Wilder's play Our Town looms large over Alfred Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt. Wilder wrote the first draft of the screenplay, based on a story idea by Gordon McDonell. The screenplay was revised and completed by Sally Benson (author of the New Yorker stories that were the basis for Vincente Minnelli's 1944 musical Meet Me in St. Louis) and Hitchcock's wife, Alma Reville, after Wilder left for service in World War II, but it's his benign vision of small town life that informs the Santa Rosa of Shadow of a Doubt. Hitchcock even paid tribute to Wilder with a separate on-screen credit in the film's opening. The premise of Shadow of a Doubt is essentially: What if a serial killer showed up in Grover's Corners? What better place to hide out from the cops than in the bosom of one's own "average American family," as the Newtons of Santa Rosa are said to be? Instead of Hitchcock's frequent "wrong man" plot device, what we have here is the wrong place, the tension being developed from Uncle Charlie's threat to small town tranquility. Hitchcock is often quoted as saying Shadow of a Doubt was one of his favorite films, and there's much to admire in it, especially the performances. As Uncle Charlie, Joseph Cotten, with his quick turns from joviality to menace, is splendid, and Teresa Wright as his namesake niece makes the most of their odd emotional connection: If Uncle Charlie is psychotic, Young Charlie is at least neurotic, especially in her often frantic and edgy attempts to launch her own investigation, either to prove or disprove her uncle's guilt. Patricia Collinge is also superb as the mother who has to be protected from the truth about her brother, lest the whole family structure that depends on her hard work and common sense collapse. Henry Travers as the father and Hume Cronyn as his mama's-boy friend provide the necessary macabre comedy in their schemes to bump each other off. But I think the film is undermined by the unnecessary introduction of a love story between Charlie and the detective Jack Graham. It's inserted into the film too abruptly, almost in a cut between scenes: All of a sudden Charlie has not only figured out that Graham is a detective but she has also fallen for him. A more interesting actor than Macdonald Carey might have made it plausible, but his affable Graham doesn't feel like an appropriate match for the intensity that is Charlie. To be fair to Wilder, Grover's Corners was no paradise, as the third act of Our Town demonstrates, and Uncle Charlie is perhaps not the only serpent in Santa Rosa: The scene in which the two Charlies go to a smoky dive and encounter the waitress Louise (Janet Shaw), a schoolmate of Young Charlie's who has fallen on hard times and looks longingly at the emerald ring her friend is wearing, is an effective counterpoint to the folksiness and bonhomie on the small town surface. I think the film could have benefited from a bit more of the dark underside of Santa Rosa and a bit less of its superficial geniality.

#Shadow of a Doubt #Alfred Hitchcock #Patricia Collinge #Teresa Wright #Joseph Cotten #Henry Travers #Charles Bates #Edna May Wonacott