I’m a writer, furbaby mama, and just a touch obsessed with One Piece. Ask box is open for headcannon and scenario requests! Beautiful header image of Ace and my OC Ashina by Elliemehl! Check out the rules here! Masterlist.
I’m coming out of my unannounced hiatus to say that I’m ready to try my hand at writing again!
If you followed me before and saw some of my older posts before my hiatus you know I was pregnant. I am now a mama to a sweet little girl! She’s nearing her half birthday and I finally feel like I have a bit of extra time on my hands to write again.
I have decided to clear my askbox completely, so I’m sorry to those who’ve sent an ask and waited ages for it to be answered, but after months away I’ve decided start fresh.
Along with starting fresh, I’ve also decided to start turning down requests if they do not spark my writing inspiration.
And, if you’re interested in an Ace Lives fanfic, then the link to Read All About It is below!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Oh shit, here we go again with the horny bullshit.
@heyitsdoe slaughtered me recently with Snakeman cock, so now it's the payback time. It's the first time I wrote something in the vibe of monsterfucking, so, please have mercy on me.
Especially since it's 6am and I should be sleeping, not playing bootleg victorian writer with weird kinks.
The Hour of The Beast
Character: Katakuri
Reader: female (cis)
Word count: 3608
CW: explicit n.sfw content, femdom vibes with a switch of dynamics, collar & leash, messy biting, slight mention of blood in suggestive context, facesitting, rough sex, creampie, monster side of Katakuri getting out during sex...okay at some point it simply is monsterfucking, let's be honest
By the way his chest calmed down and his arms relaxed by his sides you assume your lover has finally succumbed to sleep. Ignoring the strain in your hips and thighs left by your passionate lovemaking, you lift yourself on elbows and enjoy the view. Katakuri rests reclining, back supported by a huge pile of pillows, in his naked glory except for the coil of scarf wrapped around his lower face, neck and a good part of shoulders and chest. You’re well aware why he’s reluctant to take it off, even in a moment of intimacy; the glimpse of his bare features was shown to you only once, details already faded and insignificant in your memory, but, together with his vague explanation, that’s enough to give you a good idea for the reason behind his complex. You can’t help but mourn a little, for his pain and for the loss of his beautiful face. But it’s alright, it always was: if he prefers to keep it hidden even from you, you never complain. His comfort is more important, after all.
Something in his relaxed pose sparks an idea in your mind, though, innocent at first, but oh so tempting with each heave of his splendid chest. He’s never forbid you from looking—and you know well he would make sure to stress it, if he didn’t want you to help yourself with admiring his face—but you haven’t asked either, curiosity somehow never prompting you to push the boundaries. It’s been truly a subtle game of a cat and a mouse, neither of you restricting the other and both of you skirting the topic from a safe distance, not too close, not too far. It eventually had to lead to one of you breaking: and here you are, itching to inch closer, to unwrap the soft layers from the self-claimed forbidden fruit. It’s so close, right in front of you, within the reach of your hand…
Calling. Tempting.
Carefully, to not interrupt his rest, you crawl up his torso, the little hair on his abdomen and chest tickling your still sensitive skin and sending extra excited shivers all over your body. The size difference between the two of you is significant enough for you to take quite a time before you sneak to your goal, your whole weight resting on his chest with as much pressure as a single feather would have, if switched places with you. Your vision is now blocked whole by the coils of scarf, strands of soft fabric nearly palpable on your face. Excited and nervous, you carefully sneak a hand underneath, following the line of his collarbones and up, brushing neck and chin; first little grains of growth that’ll become a morning stubble graze your fingertips. His breath and calm flow of blood in his veins pulse under your caresses, so peaceful, so trusting, so loving in the way he just lets you reach right into his vulnerability, in one of those rare moments when he lets his guard down enough to not study everything with nearly paranoid alert of his Color of Observation.
Your hands trembling, you slowly unwrap the scarf, layer by layer, uncovering the latent shape. Katakuri tenses slightly, his chest beneath you raises significantly and helps you with the very last coil. You can’t help the little enamored gasp once your eyes sink in the splendid view: his handsome face, calm and relaxed, right within the reach of your hands and lips.
It’s monstrous and angelic in that unique, fascinating meaning of beauty. Features soft for a man his age—long eyelashes throwing shadows under his lids, skin carrying no wrinkles but a few rims between his eyebrows coming from deep thoughts stirring in his mind—crack in half below the line of cheekbones, with the line of deep, jagged scar, forever marked with traces of sloppy, badly-healed stitches. Everything below is the face of a beast, sharp, powerful, dangerous, intoxicating, awakening feeling so familiar yet unknown in your clenching chest. Ragged, faded shreds of memories come together like pieces of spilled puzzles, adding the tinge of long forgotten desire to the euphoria of fulfilled curiosity.
The skin on edges of the scar is harder, more rough than the rest of him: soft and spongy like a real mochi. You slowly drag a thumb along the line, from the apex of his cheek towards the mouth. Warm breath grazes your skin with goosebumps, a little yet sharp spark of excitement hitches your own and pools heat between your legs. A little bit of saliva drools on your finger as you press it against fangs peeking out from between his lips; not bothered at all you continue your sneaky exploration, tense and thrilled as you were the first time you shared the bed with him.
His teeth. So hard. So sharp. So captivating and alluring, inviting you to dive further, to reach for more.
A little sigh of your name tickles your finger as you press deeper and his gaze welcomes you: sleepy but awake and not at all surprised by your antics, “Enjoying yourself?”
“A bit.” You withdraw the hand, a little trail of saliva glistening in the dim light of a bedlamp.
He nods, studying the way you move on top of him with attention, “Then why did you stop?”
Why did you, indeed? You know he sensed you at the very least. If he didn’t want you to sneak on him, you would be stopped. What’s the difference between him aware but relaxed—and him watching your pretended stealth? Is it the presence of his eyes, open and intrigued, dragging out a layer of shyness unusual for your standard level? Or the unknown, crawling and feral, sensation right on the back of your head; the feeling perking its ears up with the sight and touch of his fangs on your fingertips?
The way this man had his influence on you has always been intense, but never dragged this kind of twisted attraction out of your needs.
“If you really want to see them closer,” Katakuri shifts under you, the slight change of position making you sit up on his chest—and face to face with him, “I won’t oppose you.”
Such a bold and relaxed statement coming from your lover is rare, unbelievable even; for a split second you wonder if it’s not a dream or a trick. But it feels too real for a phantasm and Katakuri is not a one for jokes and shenanigans. If he says something, he means it—and, indeed, he doesn’t shy away even for an inch when you reach out again, leaning even into your palm when you caress his cheek. A strange view, a strange feeling: his big head cupped softly by your hand, eyes slowly fluttering closed, slight twitch of muscles as your fingers wander along the scar again. Even if given away in trust and love, this bit of power over him, a man as strong as feared, fuels the curious beast coming from the dark realms of your mind. The sensation grows in strength, leading your fingers as if it pulled the strings according to its, not yours, whims.
Its hunger grows with each second, with each stroke against the sharp edge of his inhuman, terrifying, sexy teeth.
Katakuri’s eyes shoot open a split second before the trance is interrupted by a tinge of pain, an insignificant little needle piercing your index finger. If not for his sudden attention, you wouldn’t even realize you cut yourself against his fang. The wound is so small it barely squeezes out a droplet of blood; with a little hiss—more surprised than unpleasant—you withdraw the hand, staining his lips on its way.
The noize he makes is nearly beast-like: a growl rumbling from the depths of his chest, sending vibrations through your body. The droplet of blood disappears with a quick sweep of his tongue, your finger soon following as he extends it and wraps it around your digit with ease. You’ve felt his tongue on your body many times before, you know its touch and agility, as he could slip it through the coils of a scarf to please you. But this is different, somehow. More aggressive, more needy, more feral in the way he cleans the wound with dedication, his eyes dark and lustful as they study your face from underneath half-closed lids.
The sensation on the back of your head purrs, pleased.
“Have I hurt you?” Katakuri’s voice, however barely a whisper, cuts the air like a whip, pushing the wild thoughts of yours back to their dark place.
You inspect the cut finger; nothing but a slightest graze on the scarfskin and trace of his saliva is visible, so you shake your head and nuzzle up to him, the need and curiosity all died out. The fatigue lingering in your body finally wins over everything—and the firm softness of his mochi-like pecs tempt you in a way far different than desires pooling between your legs a moment ago.
Before sleep washes over you, you can feel the softest chuckle rumbling in his chest as he covers you with the scarf, the same one you unwrapped from him.
_
Several days pass and as the memory of Katakuri’s face has been carved in your mind, the sensation has never returned and details of the whole encounter faded away in the mundane routine. Katakuri has been called to attend something important on the Whole Cake Island, so you spend most of the time alone, enjoying the blessing of spacious residence left to your own curiosity.
It’s still a new territory for you. The relationship between you and your partner jumped to that level of intimacy barely a few months earlier—and you had plenty of more thrilling activities than exploring the place you’ve just moved into. But since you were given a few days to yourself only, as the lady of the house you felt the need—and morbid curiosity—to reveal all the secrets awaiting you.
This time one of Katakuri’s private rooms catches your attention. There are five of them, aside from his study and your shared bedroom, and he has a habit of switching them like a cat circling between its favorite sunspots. You’ve explored them a little before, in his presence, and he has never discouraged you from doing so, so you assume you’re allowed to sniff around a little bit, knowing well the really personal and important things he keeps closed in the drawer of his desk. This room is filled predominantly by his clothes, outfits he doesn’t wear as eagerly as before. His reluctance to get rid of things he already accepted and got used to results in cluttering, but it only thrills your curiosity. Digging in piles of belongings Katakuri accumulated through his whole life feels like a trip to a private museum dedicated to him. Being able to touch, to smell, to feel the weight and texture of clothes and accessories he used to wear gives an experience you would never be able to reach thanks to photos. Especially since he doesn’t own many of them.
A relatively small wooden case catches your eye as soon as you make your way through the first layer of Katakuri’s belongings. You’ve expected jewelry, some trinkets he used to like in his youth, so the finding catches you off-guard. A choker… No, rather a collar, coming with a thin and long chain, both in a size leaving no doubt who was using them. A thick, sturdy strap of leather doesn’t carry a sign of excessive use, but you can tell it’s not new: silver studs have lost its gleam and the chain is covered in rust in places.
How long has it been since Katakuri has hidden that undeniably kinky accessory? For whom did he use to wear it? Questions pop out and disappear unanswered as you weigh the finding on the palm of your hand, watching it curiously under every angle. One of the studs is slightly ripped out as you soon discover with a hiss: your finger is cut slightly against a sharp edge. Cursing your lack of caution, you try to soothe pain sucking on the wound.
The metallic taste of blood hits you with the same intensity as the memory of that night.
Half-lidded, lust-glazed eyes looking at you with intensity sending shivers down your spine, the sensation crawling out of its dark layer, sharp teeth cutting your skin and long, unbelievably long tongue lapping the blood straight from the wound…
Human. Monster. Your lover. Your beast.
Beast you want to experience; beast you crave to tame and be tamed by at the same time.
The tinge of pain in your finger disappears when you clench your hand on the collar, an idea for, hopefully fruitful, night appearing in your mind, much to the sensation's content hum.
_
Katakuri truly can be a man of surprises.
When planning your “attack”, you assumed he would be quite opposed to the idea of wearing a collar for you, especially if followed by the rest of events you’ve chosen for the night. Maybe he had done it before, but you had no way to guess how it had gone…and he always could switch his preferences with time. From your experience together you’ve come to a realization he has a weak spot for giving you some freedom here and there—but the game you have in mind is one other level of control. And risk.
But he says nothing, doesn’t even give your proposal a long thought before nodding, “It will be safer this way, if you want to feel my teeth more.”
Having him underneath you now, stripped, bare-faced and collared, fills you with immense excitement and anxiety alike. You’re almost always on top—a matter of precaution—during intimate moments, but this time is palpably different. He’s given you full control over himself and waits for your move, for your decision: and the freedom of choice burns your chest from inside. He’s infeasibly sexy like that, piercing you with a lustful gaze, lips slightly parted and revealing sharp fangs, chest heaving and rocking you up and down with ease as your size means nothing to him. Still a gentle giant—or rather a beast, waiting for a perfect opportunity to bite? You can’t wait to find out.
A chained leash is light and thin, but proves itself to be an excellent quality when you give it a testing pull. You don’t want to choke your partner, only guide him—or deny him access—if needed, but you want to be sure before you start: and from the approving look in his eyes you can guess he’s been counting on it to happen as well. Katakuri follows the movement of your hand and lies down flat, the tip of his tongue flashing you through a second as he licks his lips at the sight above him. Keeping the hold steady, you straddle his head, your slit already dripping from short foreplay and views alone. Gaze fixed on your entrance, he waits and yearns, mouth opening and revealing the whole set of long, pointy teeth: the splendid seat you want to test.
You’re deliberately slow, careful in a way you choose the right angle and pressure. But the task is hard. His wet, hot breath stirs the need, and once you feel the unfamiliar surface brushing against your lower lips, the sensation finally crawls out of its den and demands more. It’s tantalizing to the point of pain, that tight knot forming in your abdomen and howling for release when you still need to take things slowly, easy. You can hurt yourself so easily against the razors guarding access to his sinful tongue, but if it isn’t the risk that thrills you so much. He’s hungry and he waits—and the sensation wants nothing but to feed him.
Keeping yourself steady with a hold on leash and his hair alike, you lower yourself on Katakuri’s lips and take the ride.
You don’t need a single pull, a single order worded, for him to grasp your thought. Long and nimble tongue meets your impatient cunt halfway, entices it closer. It’s easily as thick as a standard-sized cock, but incomparably better, faster and supple, reaching depths and angles with sniper precision. As he pleases your inside, sipping your juices straight from the source with guttural, beast-like groans, you’re getting off on his lips and teeth, harsh snaps of hips dragging you to orgasm with pace you had no idea you’re capable of.
He watches you, all the time; eyes dark with desire and immense, mysterious hunger study the pleasure spilled all over your face. The sensation holds you by the nape of your neck, doesn’t let you forget you have a beast on your leash, a monster ready to snap at any moment, just allowing you to take your ride with a whim of curiosity. And, sweet gods, if it doesn’t drive you crazy, in that most primal, wanton way. With each move you can feel his teeth grazing you, sometimes teetering on the verge of pain, but never crossing it, just teasing, just warning, just reminding how easily you can be put into your place, if only he wanted to.
The knuckles of your hands turn paler when you try to hold yourself straight, cumming all over his face.
Mind hazy, you fight for breath, thighs trembling on the sides of his head. Katakuri hums, slurping the last drops of your high; one of his arms reaches up, to help you, thick fingers wrap around your middle with ease. Overstimulated senses barely put the signals of reality together, but the realization of how meaningless your size is compared to him still somehow crawls under your skin. The sensation grasps your throat, a needy moan breaks through your lips with the pressure Katakuri’s hand gives you. You’re losing the control, voluntarily; you’re slipping into the luring vortex, drowning in his eyes: still lustful, but beaming with dark, monstrous energy you’ve never witnessed before.
Have you begged for it? You’re not sure. And you don’t care when with one swift move you’re peeled away from his face and thrown on the sheets, face down.
“Keep it,” he rasps out, pushing the chain back into your palm. It’s the last sound that still resembles human speech. And the last warning, reminder that the thin line of the leash is the only thing making you safe once he starts.
Hand around your middle holds you firmly, the pressure of his fingers nearly suffocating as he takes you from behind, merciless, huge, rough. You’re used to his size—and you’ve never been more thankful for all those slow and patient nights as you’re now, barely holding yourself under the barrage of his thrusts. He doesn’t just fuck you, he uses you to fuck himself, pulling you closer with each slap of his hips.
The beast has been released from his cage.
The growls over your head muffle your own cries and ragged words with ease. Is it still your lover or a demon taking you as he pleases, with power and pace almost breaking you? The sensation howls in ecstasy in your head as you hold on the leash for your dear life, pulling Katakuri even closer, until his hips plaster to yours and sweaty, hot chest presses to your back. The teeth you rode so effortlessly a moment ago brush the nape of your neck with a promise of a bite, saliva from his wide-open mouth trickles down your shoulders. With the last sparks of consciousness you guess he’s, somehow, still holding himself, still refusing to succumb to all desires you’ve awoken in him with a magic spell of a collar and leash.
You don’t mind, you want him to let it go, to just ruin you beyond imagination. But your voice is nothing but moans and hoarse throat.
At least, you still have the chain.
Putting last sparks of power, you pull on it and force him to lean down, to feast on the crook of your neck. As his teeth seek into you, only the mochi-like texture saving your skin from breaking, your cunt clenches on him again, dragging him into orgasm together with you,
The groan of your name sounds like a call of a beast in his throat. Hips pressed close, hand still clenching around your waist, he spills his seed into you with thick spurts. He doesn’t let go of you even for a second, insatiable, feral, as if breeding you into his possession—not until you finally collapse, mind and soul spent, gone, and so goddamn happy.
“Y/N?” Sweet smell of mochi brings you back to senses. Katakuri strokes your cheek softly, the worry on his face taking the monstrous look away despite his teeth still being on full display. A man fucking you like a beast a moment ago has turned into docile partner, sweet and loving.
“Sleep,” you mutter, even in the exhausted haze guessing easily what he has on mind. You truly need only sleep, there’s not enough power left in your body for anything else.
The same hand that held you mercilessly close scoops you oh so gently and lets you rest on his chest, the stripes of his tattoo promising the most comfortable rest possible. With a pleased hum you sink into his warmth, enjoying the sticky feeling of his seed flowing down your thighs and the softest caress of his fingers resting on your back.
For the rest you will worry later, after the wake up, when your sore body will demand a better treatment.
😳👀 now.. can I read your work from the Oblivion or do I need to get back to living world??
oh no no no, there are three deities of smut, @alice1290, @doctorgerth and @burnthoneymint who maybe can resurrect you from the realms of dead to kill you with the sword of kink once again
I’m rising out of the abyss of (unintentional) eternal hiatus to say THANK YOU Bas! 🥰 it was a nice surprise to see I’m still considered a deity of smut even when I have dropped off the face of the writing world.
I’m coming out of my unannounced hiatus to say that I’m ready to try my hand at writing again!
If you followed me before and saw some of my older posts before my hiatus you know I was pregnant. I am now a mama to a sweet little girl! She’s nearing her half birthday and I finally feel like I have a bit of extra time on my hands to write again.
I have decided to clear my askbox completely, so I’m sorry to those who’ve sent an ask and waited ages for it to be answered, but after months away I’ve decided start fresh.
Along with starting fresh, I’ve also decided to start turning down requests if they do not spark my writing inspiration.
And, if you’re interested in an Ace Lives fanfic, then the link to Read All About It is below!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Ready to attempt my hand at writing again! Check the above for some more info, but I’m open for sfw and nsfw requests. Headcanons more likely to be accepted, but would also consider a scenario or two. 😉
Y - Yard Sales: Do they go? What do they look for/purchase if they do?
Law
Um, of course. A chance to find a rare coin or a comic book missing from his collection? Law is all over it. Possibly in disguise, and as inconspicuous as possible, but Law is going to any yard sale he may stumble across in the hopes that he finds a trinket to add to his collection. Despite his callous nickname, he’s also been known to pick up an item or two that would interest one of his crew members and leave it as an anonymous surprise for them in their cabin/on their bed. (They all know its him, but no one ever breaths a word that they know.)
Kid
Kid might grumble about how boring yard sales can be, but if he happens to be walking by one and a piece of metal or hunk of junk that could possibly be useful in some way catches his eye he’s stopping to check it out. He’s secretly always on the lookout for anything he could take back to his shop and turn into something new, creative, and useful to him.
Zoro
Zoro is not a fan of yard sales. Rarely do they sell swords, and even rarer can booze be found at a yard sale. So why bother? Plus, he’s bound to get lost somehow, so it’s better that he avoids going around looking for deals at yard sales.
*pops in* hello~ I honestly hope I am doing this right. If not, please tell me 🥺
So.. for the amazing event for the amazing writer..
Could ask - if inspired - for S, T and X for Benn Beckman?
I hope I did it right, if not.. 1) i am sorry and I apologize.... 2) can I redo it? If not that's okay too!
I hope you are have nice days!
Take care ~
Since T was already done we agreed on W instead. ☺️ hope you enjoy!
Benn Beckman
S- Starry Night: Do they enjoy star gazing?
Yes. Definetely yes. In the crazy, sometimes violent, world of pirating the stars are a calm constant that Benn can enjoy on a peaceful night. Most often with a nice cup of booze, and it’s even more enjoyable if he has a s/o to share the evening with, pointing out the brightest stars and different constellations.
X- eXplore: Do they like to explore? Tide pools? Caves? Forests?
New islands always call for exploring. What better way to learn about a new place than to check out all the island may have to offer. Caves are his favorite nature discoveries, whether they are dark, damp, and narrow, or wide open caverns, Benn wants to search every corner of a new cave that he can.
W- Wardrobe: What’s their normal summertime attire?
Benn is a simple man. Unlike his captain who is usually seen stomping around in sandals, even in the hottest of temperatures Benn sticks to his practical boots, and rarely ops for anything other than his typical, useful pants with pockets. He has been known to forgo a shirt if the summertime heat is extreme, but otherwise a plain, cotton t-shirt is his standard, even in the summer.
ALICE <3 so happy to see you back! hope you’re taking care of yourself and the pregnancy is going smoothly! Congrats on the followers and so excited for this summer event! Could I please get Smoker with the letters N, R, and S? Thank you so much again, hope you have fun with this event! 💕
Hi Coop!! 🥰 thank you! It has been a wonderfully smooth and easy pregnancy, aside from the fact that she has now run out of space and any and every movement is rather… uncomfortable. 😣😆
Smoker
N- Novelty: What would their pool floatie look like?
Despite Tashigi’s best efforts to get him to use the giant great white shark floaty she found for him, Smoker prefers his basic, dark blue, innertube floaty. He’s able to keep himself suspended mostly above the water and enjoy a relaxing moment while smoking one of his cigars. Simple is best.
R- Rollercoaster: Do they like rollercoasters/carnival rides?
The more loops, twists, turns in a rollercoaster, the better. Smoker doesn’t want a boring ‘kiddie’ ride. He wants one that makes his stomach drop and his adrenaline rush. If the ride can meet those needs, he’s down to try it at least once. If it lives up to his expectations, he’ll ride it multiple times.
S- Starry Night: Do they enjoy star gazing?
Surprisingly, yes. Smoker enjoys the calm and quiet of the night. In the world of the pirate age and the dangers and ever changing plans, the stars remain a constant that Smoker can always look to for a moment of peace.
May I ask for letter T (thunderstorm) and Zoro/Scopper Gaban/Benn Beckman?
Thank you so much 💗 Take care
Hello! Sorry for such a long wait. 🥺
T-Thunderstorms: Do they watch the thunderstorms? Dance in the rain? Favorite rainy day activity?
Benn Beckman
Benn is not a huge fan of thunderstorms, not because of the rain or even the thunder and lighting, but on an unpredictable sea, a thunderstorm just makes it all the more worse for sailing.
Now, if he happens to be on land while a summer thunderstorm hits he’s been known to sit near a window and enjoy the patter of rain and a good book. He rarely gets time to enjoy reading, or relaxing, so if the opportunity is there, is going to take it.
Scopper Gaban
Thunderstorms aren’t his preferred choice of summertime weather, but a good storm that happens every now and then is worth watching. Dancing in the rain though? Not unless there’s a good party going on deck with a lot of booze involved. His favorite activity during a storm is to post up somewhere where he can stay dry, watch the storm, and sharpen the blades of his axes.
Zoro
Zoro is definitely not going to get caught dancing in the rain. Drinking and napping in the rain however are his favorite ways to pass the time while the thunderstorm rages. He can also be found inside his training room working out during a storm.
Sorry Alice, but imma bit confusion. Are you open for asks?
Hello. My askbox is technically open, however, I’m even slow than my normal turtle trudging through peanut butter speed due to being seven months pregnant and most of my current free time is spent preparing for baby girl’s arrival or sleeping. 😬😞😳
But, if you’re willing to wait, you’re welcome to submit an ask, and I’ll add it to my word document list of current pending asks.
Would you guys be cool sending in some cute pictures of animals/your pets? I'm in a not-so-good state and just need proof that there are good people who take care of their animals rn
Mama dog, Mocha. Loves her granny, sunbathing, and not much else.
Giant floof, Cheyenne. Also, goes by Chychy. Loves kids, treats, and her human mama.
Ace. Punky. Real life moon moon. Named after one Portgas D Ace. Definitely D for dumbass. But he’s sweet and I love him.
Nami. Newest addition to the crew. Only been here for two months. Rules the house. Terrorizes the dogs. Favorite pastimes is naps on mama’s preggo belly and picking on Ace.
Bonus: JJ my parents’ dog and their cat Boots. Boots is a girl. They like to confuse the vet. JJ and Boots are the best of friends. No joke. They are besties.
I had no idea this was a thing, but looking at their website it states, “uses essential oils and aromatherapy as a discrete solution to keeping morning sickness at bay,” which is a red flag for me considering these all appear to be for ingesting.
And the ingredient list I just found for them says “essential oils” not “natural ingredients” so that’s another red flag.
I’d say the only way to know for sure it’s an extract and not a volatile oil would be to message them but the aromatherapy line makes me 😬.
@thebibliosphere For those able to eat them, Chimes ginger candies are super helpful for nausea and come in an assortment of ginger flavors and don’t have super sketchy ingredients.
@thebibliosphere Penzy spices sells candied ginger bits for putting on top of baked goods. But I nibble on them for nausea and the small size means they aren't as 'hot' or as stringy as the sliced candied ginger most places carry. The only ingredients are ginger and sugar.
I tried and have preggie pop drops at my house that i used during the early months of my pregnancy. They were recommended to me by a coworker as a way to help with constant nausea.
The essential oils part kind of threw me too, but the company’s website states: “We turn towards herbs and essential oils such as ginger, citrus, lavender, and mint––which are all known for their ability to calm, soothe an upset stomach, stop nausea, and help during labor.”
I have no idea if these are extracts or actual oils, but when I told my obgyn I was taking them to help, she was familiar with the brand and did not tell me to stop, soo … 🤷🏻♀️
being an adult is just saying to yourself “this is the weekend i’ll clean my [x]” and then proceeding to not do that because it’s the weekend and you deserve to relax, goddamnit
This is… this is my life. 😂 except this weekend hubs and I tackled cleaning both the siding of the house, the porch, and I had him help take apart my carpet cleaner so I could give it a good cleaning.
Box is open and will remain open until I feel like I’ve gotten enough requests to not be overwhelmed. Could be 25, could be 45, who knows. I’m pregnant. Shit happens. I’ll give a warning before closing the box for the event.
Rules:
The rule of 3: either pick 1 letter and 3 characters or 1 character and 3 letters
Rule of 3 can also apply to number of asks. However, please don’t abuse this on the anon feature. Not cool.
I will do my best to keep my google doc Masterlist updated with the characters and letters already requested to try and minimize duplicates. 😉 so maybe check that out just in case. You’ll find it under 800 Followers Event.
Finally, again, not exactly sure how long this event will stay open. It’s the 3rd of July now, we’ve got a lot of summertime left. Who knows. But I’ll warn ya before it closes if this turns out to be popular!
You can find the summertime list on my blog already, but I’ll be adding it again here soon for the letters.
Box is open and will remain open until I feel like I’ve gotten enough requests to not be overwhelmed. Could be 25, could be 45, who knows. I’m pregnant. Shit happens. I’ll give a warning before closing the box for the event.
Rules:
The rule of 3: either pick 1 letter and 3 characters or 1 character and 3 letters
Rule of 3 can also apply to number of asks. However, please don’t abuse this on the anon feature. Not cool.
I will do my best to keep my google doc Masterlist updated with the characters and letters already requested to try and minimize duplicates. 😉 so maybe check that out just in case. You’ll find it under 800 Followers Event.
Finally, again, not exactly sure how long this event will stay open. It’s the 3rd of July now, we’ve got a lot of summertime left. Who knows. But I’ll warn ya before it closes if this turns out to be popular!
You can find the summertime list on my blog already, but I’ll be adding it again here soon for the letters.
