#anyways. i am a simple person with simple needs. all i want in life is an explanation for why this series is the way it is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strab3rr · 23 days ago

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(long story and no short sorry) GUYSSS I DID ITT

I INDUCED IT!!!!! I WAS PURE AS A FUCKING BABY

IDK WHAT TO SAY (ok enough w capslock)

i have so much to say and not a thing at da same time idk how

anyway i want to begin with thanking you @b4ddprincess bc youre the reason i realized why i started this thing. thank you for making my life better and make me realized what i need to do: nothing. (its same for you guys, all u have to do is nothing)

two fuckn years ago i said to myself that i need a better life, quiter life, less fight with everthing bc everything was so loud and not clear i was feeling lost like a child in the market, and i wanted to make things better for myself in every way, but the main idea of my reasons to wanting to get in the void was: making anxiety go and having better people in my life. but the ''voidlist'' just never stopped bc im kinda greedy(having the idea of controling on your life, the idea of that power makes you greedy. yes thats a thing) anyway the more i add to the list the more i feel like im movin away from my desires then i feel depressed bc ive overcomplicating it bc theres so many things to do but i dont do anything so nothing happend bc i was waiting to be someth happen. and then i started doing awkwardly silly things such as: void routines and challenges and (im embarrassed of this one bc i was too desperate) drinking water

youve read it correct drinking water.

i was sooo desperate for having those things id do anything to get them.

i am simple. i want what everyone wants🎀🎀🎀: shifting realities bc i have so many crush and i need them to be crush me in bed(for 2020 girlies)

being an academic weapon is so easy for me🎀(bc of the urge to make my family proud) +dream collage

being the girl that everyone gets along w(basic needs)

being the girl who is pretty not cute(trauma response)

glowing aura(cats loves people w glowing aura yes thats a thing too)

dream body n hair(bc i deserve this🎀)

healthy (girlyfriend)friends(basic needs)

and of course him, my sp(i cant tell wich one at that time but i releived that its not him now, bc MY BELOVED CURRENT BF. guyss he is the one. dont u dare ask me how you know? i literally manifested him🎀)

then i realized i can have everything bc its my reality so why not add these:

new phone, +macbook air

dream apartment of my own

pinterest closet

lifa app for this reality

financially free-money(a lot. like really a lot)

knowing 4 languages like a native person(bc i want to be diplomat so bad) +sign language(its in general)

a little drama(its not gonna hurt anybody)

my parents being more lovable and away from me

every time i try to get in, either i was failing or falling

and im sick of it, sick of it so much i quit.(for a year)

then i go to the theraphy(ofc no im jk ilove being crazy)

one day i saw a post ss from tumblr about pure consciousness on pinterest and i was like whaat is thiiss. no mention of void so i thougt its a diffrent thing and i download the tumblr again and search everything abt it. and same excitement again after one year same thougts and same list popes up in my head. and i was like ok maybe this time itll happen.

still waiting to be someth happen so nothing happend, it was such a waste of time trying to get in while i was already be, i was already what i want to become. i was that girl that everyone gets along with but i couldnt even see bc i was too focused on wanting to be. but still tried every night and failed. and again tried-failed-quit circle bc.. have you ever met me🎀

4 month ago i saw the girl, iconic blogger and the goddess of my dreams, her @b4ddprincess thx again love u so much

a post pops in my fyp and i see the words ''pure consciousness'' i was like noo not again. and i was serious abt it i wasnt gonna read the whole thing but it attract me n i couldnt resist it so ive read it from the top to the bottom. and she got my interest so i stalked her page from the last and to the first post. it was quiet a beautiful journey for me. lasted like 3 days, the end of the 3rd day i was ''woaw it was this easy all along? u cant be serious.'' she was. i tried one last time, no breathing exercise, no ridiculous routines and no waiting something to be happen. it was just me being real me chilling out asf.

and it was this easy and it should be this easy bc being your 4d self is being nothing also being everything at the same time. if u wanna be everything you should be nothing first(as wizardliz saying: drop the old story, leave the victimhood, for being better stop being bitter etc.)u should make a space for everything first and then u can be everything.

for being 4d self of yours stop being your3dself.

sooo long story (no)short i am writing this from my mac in my new apartment(in middle of the night bc i couldnt sleep and then one tumblr notification reminded me i have a success story to share too) and my phone buzzing two minutes a time bc of my friends while im writing this, so if theres anything wrong ignore it pls.

oh u asking my bf how cute, hes sleepin in my bed now, exhausted from the work n school balance.

YWS SCHOOL!! im in my dream collage and im going to be in paris for a week. i deserve a vacation i guess(its for another conference), i kinda hate french men bc theyre so mansplaning(not like how i imagined, its hard to be friends w them)girls are cute but i feel like theyre aware im not permanent there so we just con buddies still cute and hepful for this foreigner.

and i canceled the lifa app thingy bc i can be my purest consciousness anytime i want, so i am my lifa app.

and thx to 4 languages i make a lot of money and that brings us to the pinterest closet, yesterday i realiased that. theyre not comes to me w an imaginary way like i imagined! i go outside for shopping casually and theyre there luckily i have enough money to buy them.

and my family theyre living in our hometown now so as i want it to be, we are away from eachother.

and the most magical thing: SHIFTING REALITIESSS

i did 5 world before i met w my bf. it was such a wonderful experience. if you have doubts abt shifting you can go fuck urself

because sir i did it and i am very sure that dean winchester being my husband is not a daydream, fantasy nor lucid dreaming. believe it or not he kissed me GOD HE KİSSED ME(someone should stop me i have a bf)

is there anything i missed let me see.. cats i have 2 cats now and theyre adorable. glowing aura-check

the girl who is pretty not cute- check +make anxietygo-checkcheckcheck

dream body and hair- check and check

i wanna give u a info i didnt have all my desires by being my4dself

not directly actually. but i have them all. and thats the point.

im not trying to be a blogger but if you have any question abt anything, id be happy to help

now i need to upgrade things in my farm byeess

loves, siena.

#void success stories #pure consciousness #i am state #the void state #4d reality #void state #loass #manifesation #manifesting #shiftblr #shifting consciousness #manifestblr

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btsugarush · 1 year ago

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GANGSTA | myg - 004

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.5K

authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. y’all best give me all the love since y’all wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if you’re new and wanted to be tagged i’m sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.

“Now, are you sure you’re okay? I can personally file a report for you.” Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didn’t understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.

You didn’t go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didn’t escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.

Luckily for you though, the old man’s guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.” You assure him one last time. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Mina’s car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up so early.” You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “No problem… But why am I picking you up so early? And…” she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. “Why is your shirt ripped?”

You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. “I had to deliver at the Devil’s playground again, and got attacked.” You kept it short and sweet. Mina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved me…” you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. “He saved you?” You nod slowly in response. “My god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?”

Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. “No, he didn’t ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.” You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. “Please don’t tell me you’re buddy buddy with that thug now?”

You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. “Of course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. I’d never befriend him,” You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you weren’t swayed by his heroic charm. “Anyway, enough about me and my shitty day, it’s too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?” You change the subject. Mina’s face drops at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “Yeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now we’re not on speaking terms,” She sighs. “I think maybe I should break up with him…”

You frown. ‘There she goes being the most dramatic again…’

“Mina, don’t be so damn hasty all the time.” You try to reason with the blonde. “I’m not!” She defended herself. “I’m just tired, y/n. I’m tired of trying to figure him out. I’d rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.”

Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. “I don’t know, Mina… I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, I’d try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.”

Mina pouts, but she doesn’t continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldn’t just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. “You know… I’m jealous of your relationship with Kookie.” She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. “Huh?”

“I’m jealous,” she repeats. “Of you and Jungkook.”

You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. “Why?”

Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. “You two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We don’t have the history you and Jungkook have.”

You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. “History isn’t everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be mature– or you at least.” Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘or you at least’?”

“I mean that sometimes you’re immature. You tend to freak out when things don’t go your way and storm off like a child.” Mina snarls. “I’m not immature.” She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. “Thanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.”

“Of course. I’m mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.” She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. “Bye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.” You pushed open the car door, climbing out.

“Yeah, you and me both.” She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?

You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. “Kookie?”

The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that it’s you, he smiles as well. “Well shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess that’s a fail.” He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. “It’s not a fail. I’m so happy to see you.” Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Jungkook’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, angel. What’re you doing home so early though? I thought you weren’t off till 8:00?”

You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadn’t told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didn’t want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. “I got attacked today.” You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadn’t clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.

“By who?!” He shouts. “If it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to god–”

You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?” The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. ‘I really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.

You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.

You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. “So? Was it Yoongi’s doing?”

How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isn’t the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didn’t want that.

So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.

“I had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “You had a delivery at the devil’s playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasn’t letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.” The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. “I should go down there and kick that old man’s ass,” He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.

“Did they hurt you?” His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. “No. I’m fine,” You assure him. “The only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.” You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Did they just let you go? How’d you get free?” He pressed on.

“Umm…” you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.

“So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?”

“They got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?”

Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasn’t there.” He frowns, leering down at your hands. “Jungkook, you’re not gonna be able to be there for everything, and that’s okay. You’re here now, when I need you the most.”

Jungkook looks up at you. “And I’ll stay here.”

“Please remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.” Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. “The Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well next time I’m picking the movie. Your selection sucks.”

You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. “Take that back.” You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry… that you’re ass at picking movies.” You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunette’s waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Hard not to when I’m being attacked by a pillow.” He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkook’s hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didn’t hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real bad– and you did. Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.

You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. “Fuck, Y/n…” he muttered in between kisses. “We have to stop before I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t stop, I want this.” You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, I can’t.” He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you can’t help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didn’t get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.

It’s silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n…”

“Save it,” You cut him short. “You don’t want to have sex with me, I get it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “That’s not true. I do.” He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So then what’s the problem? I’m always practically giving signals that I’m ready and you’re holding back. You have never done that with any girl you’ve dated before me.”

“You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.”

“Right, I’m y/n, the girl that’s been your best friend for years and the truth is that’s probably all you see me as.” Jungkook says nothing, he doesn’t even bother to argue because that’s just something he hates doing with you. “I uh… I should go.”

“Then go.” You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You don’t look his way, you just continue to stare forward. “You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.” He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.

Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkook’s bouquet of flowers sat.

“Well well well, look who made a full recovery today.” You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. “Y/n, it’s good to see you too.” He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. “I have a bone to pick with you once you’re done here.” You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.

“Y/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?” Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. “It’s a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?” You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadn’t even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.

“Well, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?” He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim.” You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.

“Hey, um, there’s someone out there at table three that’s requesting for you to take their order.” He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. ‘Requesting me? Could it be Jungkook?’ You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didn’t see why he couldn’t have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didn’t argue with the gesture.

“Okay…?” You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you don’t see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you don’t know. That’s why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. “What’re you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?” You snap at Yoongi.

“Nice to see you too,” the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yesterday is the reason I’m here in person, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.” He smirked. “You remember my boy Joon, don’t you?”

“Wonder Woman, it’s good to see you again.” You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didn’t have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. “So are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?”

“Depends… are you on the menu?” He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongi’s other two minions snicker and you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this pig fest. “Okay, goodbye.” You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. “I’m just joking around, sweetheart. I’m here to ask you something.” You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. “Ask me what?”

“Well, I’m having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “What on earth would make you think I’d dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think I’d go to your shifty ass warehouse?”

“Well, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.” You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. “I knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I should’ve expected that from someone like you.” You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.

“Princess,” He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesn’t fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundaries–for once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. “It’s not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.”

“Is that so? Because it truly didn’t seem like it just a second ago.” You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a “tsk” sound before continuing on. “Sweetheart, if that’s all I wanted from you then I would’ve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,” His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.

“Listen… sometimes I have these kickbacks, and they’re a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.” His voice is soft, so soft that you didn’t think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.”

“So don’t. I’ll pick you up.”

You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didn’t know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet… here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongi’s eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the raven’s eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?

“Hey, can we get the check please?” A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongi’s. You had almost forgotten you were at work. “Look, I have to get back to work. I’ll… I’ll let you know.” You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.

“I look forward to hearing from you, princess.”

Taglist

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mavrintarou · 5 months ago

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[3:47 PM] Sakusa Kiyoomi

Writing side smut stories is way easier - trying hard to break out of this writer's block for the two ongoing stories.

Warning: smut, Omi is a virgin; on an Omi rush

Kiyoomi was not only an extreme germophobe but also an extreme rule follower.

When he injured his right wrist from a terrible fall after a last-second spike, it resulted in a fracture that required his wrist to be put in a cast.

“You need to refrain from all activities, even cleaning. You’ve put too much stress on your body and need to rest,” his primary provider instructed, aware of his extreme cleaning hobby.

He was ordered off the roster for the next six weeks before his next X-Ray appointment.

His day couldn’t get worse…

Until he got home and saw an unfamiliar face in his home.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She cocked her head and raised a brow, “I am your temporary cook and cleaner, Mr. Sakusa.” She reminded him that his cook and cleaner, Mrs. Kikuchi is on vacation for the next eight weeks and she is the temporary replacement.

“Oh,” he uttered, remembering that he was going to have a new person filling in. “Sorry, I had a rough day… can you get me something to eat?”

The frown on this person’s face shifted into a smile, “absolutely, what would you like?”

“An omelet, light on the salt and make the egg slightly runny.” He is suddenly reminded of how it took Mrs. Kikuchi weeks before finally getting his request right. Kiyoomi prepared himself for an overly-cooked omelet.

Five minutes later, his eyes widened at the pretty omelet before him. That was cooked perfectly, just like how he wanted it.

He eyed her suspiciously, not knowing why, before taking a bite.

He groaned.

Groaned.

Fuck, this is delicious! He thought, devouring more of his meal.

He struggled to eat with his non-dominant hand but was too hungry to care.

“Would you like for me to cut your omelet for you?”

Kiyoomi blinked, shocked at her question before answering, “y – yes, if you can?”

Y/n nodded and reached to cut his food for him.

His eyes dart between his food and this woman he’s only known for twenty minutes. He can’t remember the last time he had his food cut up for him and can’t figure out why he was feeling hard from the simple non-intimate gesture.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Can I get you anything for you to drink?” Y/n asked with a smile that had a hint of satisfaction behind it.

His heart rate increased at her smile, and he stuttered, “o – orange juice, please.”

This woman was maddening.

Not only did she turn him on and made him horny almost 24/7. She also made him frustrated because she wanted to go out after her shift.

“It’s raining.” He argued, gesturing to the window blurred by the heavy downpour. “It’s too dangerous to go out.”

She called his name, his fucken weakness, and prayed she doesn’t look south cause he felt his cock twitch to life.

“It’s just raining, I’m just going out for my friend’s birthday and I’ll be back.”

After two days, Y/n was staying in his home, with him, in the guest room.

Unlike Mrs. Kikuchi, who came to his house every morning for her shift, Y/n stayed with him since he was going to be home for six weeks for recovery. He calmly, yet desperately begged her to stay with him, giving her the excuse that he’d need her more since he would be home more frequently.

Kiyoomi went as far as making a mess and dirtying himself and his home for Y/n to take care of, just to have her in his presence.

“Yes, I’m aware it is raining, Y/n, and it’s not safe to go out.” He blocked her in with his left arm. “If – if something happens to you…” I wouldn’t know what to do, “I’ll – I’ll go hungry…”

Her mouth curved into a smirk, “Sakusa Kiyoomi, are you only using me for my cooking skills?”

I want to use you and let you use me in anyway way possible, he wanted to answer. Sexually.

“No…” he breathed, his breath heavy. “I just don’t want you to go,” he answered honestly.

Y/n’s fingers touch the bottom of his shirt before lightly trailing up his chest. “Your actions… some might think… you are implying something…”

“Like?” He whispered.

Her fingers suddenly gripped the collar of his shirt and tugged him forward until their lips were mere centimeters apart. “That you want me.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes glance between her eyes and lips and suddenly the anxiety of her leaving him disappeared and replaced with confidence. And horniness. “I do.” He breathed against her lips, “I want you, Y/n. Fucken badly.”

“I can tell, I can feel you.” His bulge was pressing against her belly.

Y/n pressed her lips lightly against his in a soft kiss, to gage out his reaction.

Like a starved and hungry man, he lunged at her, his left hand pressed behind the back of her head as his lips eagerly moved against hers.

Her hands rested at his waist and Kiyoomi groaned, he was ticklish and it felt weird to have someone hold his waist. But he loved it. Only Y/n’s touch. She pulled him against her until he sandwiched her against his kitchen wall.

“Fuck, your lips… taste so good,” he murmured, “I wonder how your other lips… will taste…”

She burst out laughing, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Kiyoomi… you never fail to amuse me.”

He wasn’t sure if her comment was sarcastic or not, but he didn’t care.

“Please,” he begged, just begging for anything.

She looked up at him, his dark eyes pleading also. “You want to taste my other lips?”

“I want to taste all of you.” He knocked his forehead against hers, “don’t go, stay with me. So I can please you.”

Y/n groaned, “how can I say no?”

“Say yes that you’ll stay with me, you won’t regret it.” He pulled her to his living room and forced her to take a seat on his expensive couch. He manhandled her until she was bare and naked in front of him, and he kneeled before her with her legs spread wide.

Y/n can sense the hesitation from him. “Second thoughts?” she half teased and was half serious. If he was regretting it, goodness, it would be an embarrassment for them both.

Kiyoomi shook his head, eyes set on the sight of her bare pussy before him. “I…” he choked, “I… actually haven’t done this before.”

Y/n’s eyes widen, “what?”

His tongue slips out to moisten his lips before biting down on his lower lip, looking slightly guilty. “I’ve never… actually… seen a naked woman before…” Y/n’s surprised look made him blurt out suddenly, “I’m actually… a virgin still.”

“Oh…” her voice emphasized on the word. “I would… have never guessed that.” When he looked disappointed, she quickly added, “I don’t mean it in a bad way!” she corrected. Y/n sat up and cupped his face, “Kiyoomi, you are gorgeous. Don’t think I haven’t seen you prancing around shirtless with your sweatpants hanging off your fucken hips. I would never have thought you were still a virgin.” His eyes stare deeply into hers and she’s unsure he got her message. “Being a virgin is okay, there’s nothing to be ashamed about it.” She rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “We don’t… have to do this… please don’t feel pressured to do this.”

He shook his head, pulling away from her gasp and looking into her eyes with determination. “Teach me how to please you, teach me how you want to be pleased… I’ll do it. I’ll learn…”

“Kiyoomi, how did you take care of yourself all this time? I’m sure… you had times when you needed some relief… right?”

His cheeks flushed, before he muttered, “don’t laugh, okay…” when she nodded he answered, “I get off with a sex doll.” He waited for her to laugh at him, to embarrass him.

But she never does.

He peers up at her, not realizing he looked away.

She looked at him with sincerity and caution, “are you sure, positively sure you want to do this?”

He nods.

Y/n let out a shaky breath and leaned back, widening her legs. She used her hand and spread her pussy lips, “see how I’m wet here?” Kiyoomi nodded. “You want to arouse me, get me wet like this, which… you did.”

“I did? How?” He looked up at her like a schoolboy genuinely curious.

“By begging me to stay in tonight, it was fucken hot,” she smiled brightly and then tapped her finger against her clit, “this is the –“

“Clit,” Kiyoomi answered in a whisper.

“Correct,” She relaxed against the couch, “now, touch me, you can graze your fingers against my pussy until you’re comfortable.”

His fingers glide against her pussy, coating his fingers. He pressed this finger pad against her clit, circling it. “I’ve seen… porn where… they do this… do you… like it?”

Y/n hummed. “When you’re ready, you can put a finger inside me.”

Kiyoomi gently inserted a finger and glanced up at Y/n who grimaced, watching his finger slowly disappearing more into her hole. “Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head, “no… feels good.” When his finger was knuckle deep, Y/n instructed him, “you can move your finger in and out if you’re ready.”

He does as he is told, pumping his finger gently in and out of her.

“When you are comfortable… you can add another finger.”

And he does, his forefinger and middle finger are both pumping in and out of her.

“You feel so… soft… and warm…”

Y/n’s hand gripped her knees, keeping her legs spread wide for him. She felt her eyes rolling back at just the feeling of his two fingers and she wanted more. “You’re not so bad yourself…” she murmurs.

She was becoming wetter by the second as he fingered her.

“Can you… take three fingers?” he asked cautiously.

Y/n opened her eyes, “if you want?”

He nodded eagerly and Y/n smiled, giving him the green light.

Kiyoomi inserts three fingers, quickening his pace. “Can… I also use my mouth?”

Y//n tensed, “I haven’t showered yet.”

“So?” he questioned.

“You’re not grossed?”

“With you, no?”

“If you want to.”

“I do,” he smiles before giving kitten licks to her clit.

Her back arched against the couch at the contact of his hot tongue. Seeing her reaction, Kiyoomi shifted his mouth and suckled the little nub hard until Y/n was wreathing against him.

He’s seen how men do it in porn videos and mimic it.

“God, Kiyoomi!” Y/n shouted.

Her pussy began tightening around his three fingers and he lift his mouth, “are you… close?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushed. “Yes… make me cum with your mouth and fingers.”

His eyes remained connected with hers as he suckled her clit and continued to pump his fingers.

“Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes! Yes, Kiyoomi… so good… so good for me.” She gripped his hair, “faster, I’m so close…”

Aiming to please, Kiyoomi brings out her orgasm. She shudders against his fingers and mouth and aside from volleyball and cleaning, he has never felt such satisfaction before.

When Y/n comes down from her high, Kiyoomi gently slips his fingers out and notices her wince.

“It’s okay… just your fingers filled me fully and I feel empty now.” She assures with a smile. She sat up and saw the mess she’d made on his leather couch. She looked at his crotch, he was hard against his jeans. “Should we… take care of that?” She nods at his bulge.

Kiyoomi’s cheeks blushed. “We don’t have to…”

“I want to, but I want you to want it too.” Y/n said sternly.

He nods, “God, I feel so silly.”

Y/n grabs him by his chin and gazes directly into his eyes, “not silly at all. Now, do you want to do this?”

“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat.

Y/n smiled, “good, I’m happy to hear that. It seems like you’ve watched porn, is there a position you want to try for the first time?”

“Here,” he answered quickly, “how you just came in front of me. I want to have sex with you right here.”

“Okay,” Y/n answered, leaning back. “Take off your clothes then.”

He stripped so fast and was naked in seconds. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off his cock that was standing proud and ready.

Kiyoomi reached for his jeans, fishing out a condom. He swiftly and smoothly slid it on and looked at Y/n, as if waiting for her permission.

Y/n was nibbling nervously at her lower lip, “I haven’t had sex in a long time but I’m ready whenever you are.”

He touched her pussy, feeling her wetness from moments ago. His eyes drop to her breasts, which he has neglected. Kiyoomi reached with both palms and fondled her breast.

A soft moan escapes her lips and Kiyoomi dips to take a perky rosy nipple into his mouth. He suckles and nips before switching to show the other side the same attention.

“The other day when you wore a low-cut shirt… it took everything in me to not push you against the fridge and suck your tits.” Kiyoomi leans forward and kisses Y/n, “let’s take it slow and easy?”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded and tensed when she felt the intrusion of his cock. She felt him pause and she exhaled, relaxing her body, slowly feeling more of him until he was fully inside her.

For a moment they savor the feeling of just being one. Kiyoomi’s body loomed over hers as her body curved against his leather couch.

“God, this feels good, so good…” he murmurs. His head drops against her shoulder. “Can I move now?”

“Yes, yes Kiyoomi.”

Hooking his arms around her body, he began thrusting his hips. His hips began moving faster by the second when he got the rhythm down. He felt Y/n’s nail dig into his shoulder blades and that encouraged him.

“Yes! Yes!” Y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, wrapping him closer.

His thrusts were becoming so deep that it was shifting his couch, scooting back with each thrust. He unwound his arms from around her and grip the back of his couch while continuing to thrust into her. His Y/n.

Now that he had a taste of a real pussy, there was no going back.

“So good… fuck… so good,” he cooed repeatedly, pounding into her heavenly pussy. “Best pussy ever…”

Y/n looked up into his eyes, a smirk on her lips, “but it’s the only real pussy you’ve had so far?”

Kiyoomi mirrored her smirk before his left hand snaked into her ruffled hair. He gripped the roots of her hair and growled, “the only one I want.”

The smirk on her lips disappeared and he smashed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss.

Y/n couldn’t believe the stamina that this man had. However, given that he played professional volleyball for a living, it made sense that his endurance was exceptional.

Even with sex.

He wanted more and more.

They fucked on many surfaces, the coffee table, against his glass window, on his kitchen island…

“E – enough…” Y/n pleaded, her arms trembling as her grip around his neck was slipping from their body sweat. He currently is carrying her, his strong arms supporting her from underneath her knees, making her spread wide and at his mercy, as he bounced her on his cock while standing.

They have used condoms littered all over his place. She didn’t know where he was pulling these condoms from, like had a magic bag full of them somewhere near.

Without withdrawing, Kiyoomi walked over to his kitchen counter and set Y/n at the edge. Slowly, he pulled out and his soft cock slipped out. The tip of the condom was full of milky white cum.

That was the last condom he had.

His breath finally calmed as he gently pushed Y/n’s head back to stare down at her. “Sorry… I got… carried away.”

Her lips curve upward into a tired smile, her eyes barely open. “Yes… you did.” She gently smacked his arm, “can’t believe you were carrying me with your injured arm.”

Kiyoomi shrugged his shoulder and looked at his cast, “it didn’t hurt.”

They laughed in sync before Kiyoomi pressed his forehead against hers. “Do… do you want to spend the night in my bed? With… me?” his voice was full of anxiety, waiting for her answer.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.” . . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa fluff #kiyoomi sakusa x y/n #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n

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welldrawnfish · 1 year ago

Text

So these last few days has been.. Turbulent. DIFFERENT

I think I may be a System? Infact I KNOW I am a system at this point, but Im also not ready to accept that. Well a part of me isnt, and the other parts of me are like… uh duh of course you are.

*A system in this context refers to the collective consciousness under the DID / OSDD Umbrella, I dont know the correct terminology in all of this, so im so sorry If i I mess up. I don’t necessarily want to give myself a label, there's .. brain scans and stuff I can get to prove it. And I need those, thats the only way I know this is real. But for now, for my own mental health I am treating it as if it were.. “real “ And I dont really know… what to expect…? I want to find something, ANYTHING, on I guess.. Systems waking up? But I cant find it. So I’ll just do this here Im gonna dump out all our thoughts onto some comic pages and we will figure it out. I had a bit of an awakening roughly.. 5 days ago, and for the sake of convenience gonna use Plural/System terminology - There are alters, I have met them, the have names and personalities and some of them are really fuckin annoying i just want to punch him in his TEETH

Anyways, since the alter awakening moment, my brain has been in TURMOIL parts of me accept this, parts of me dont, i keep feeling like my face is like shifted 2 inches to the right and everything gets fuzzy in the real world. Not that these alters have names like.. Files are getting sorted into these proper figures and everything is getting explained and figured out. And its making me feel like I'm not me anymore?

Like I always would argue and barter and fight with my own thoughts, but that's the thing, they wer thoughts, voices in my head with just like, distinct personalities. I just saw it as a different part of me?? Figured that was normal.

But now they are.. stronger ? OR maybe because i'm more aware of them and the personalities I can tell whos out now and like.. Obviously they are happy to get some facetime with the world properly?? But like.. Am *I* just aware of it, aware of them now, aware that it is not just *I* but *We* and so noticing it more, I'm resisting even harder? We feel more fractured than ever.

I have a good friend helping me out, another system, I owe them everything, maybe my life. (PLEASE FOLLOW @transpanda-1 BTW THEY DESERVE IT) They had a few amazing tips, but I cant keep bugging them about every anxiety on my mind thats not fair, so I’ll ask the whole community.

I guess what I want to know is.. Like is this normal? Do all systems go through this? What should I expect in the future and how do I make this more streamlined and stop.. Fighting it? I guess?

I thought I finally had myself figured out, just be the girl who makes the funny relatable trans comics… it was simple.

#did/osdd #osdd system #did osdd #did system #did community #osddid #alters #PLEASE HELP #webcomic #comics #original comic #comic art #web comic #Welldrawnfishcomic

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goldsainz · 5 months ago

Text

❝ IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . art donaldson x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . smut (riding, protected sex), cheating, reader’s kinda delusional, toxic behaviour, not proofread.

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . all it takes is a text and a lonely hotel room.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . first art fic i am beyond excited 🤭 many more to come and my requests are open so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them in my inbox!!!!!! forgot how fun writing smut was, kinda crazy to have my first art fic be smut but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless 💙

[ word count: 1,7k ]

You know it is wrong to long for Art Donaldson. To not have moved on, but your life is incomplete without him. You tried to find someone else, someone who can compare to him, yet there is no one like him.

He’s not yours, no, in fact he’s married now. He has managed to move on from you, he has created a life for himself and he doesn't need you. Not like you need him, anyway.

You tune in for his matches, watch him beat his opponents and then run to his beautiful wife to celebrate. They actually looked good together, seemed like a proper couple and were the perfect faces of tennis. You could not be that for Art, you're too much of a mess to even dare to be as idyllic as Tashi Duncan.

Maybe that's why it feels so good that he’s currently under you, that it's your name he's moaning and your kisses he’s searching for. Maybe that’s the reason why you feel so unbothered by wrecking a home, because if he cheats, is there even much of a home to begin with? You don't think so.

He’s like a vice you cannot seem to quit. Even when you first broke up, it took less than two days for him to hit you up and for you to be outside his house. Nobody knows you like Art, and nobody knows Art like you. You wonder if his wife is aware of how much he dreams of you, that when he’s with her, he’s thinking about you.

All it takes is for one of you to reach out, and you both throw all dignity out the window. The measly barriers you both created collapse in a second, no words need to be said to know what the other wants. It is quite simple between you two, perhaps in a way that is too carnal and not emotional enough.

That is why, for some reason you don’t care enough to think about, he’s in your hotel room.

You’re in New York City, alone in a hotel room that feels too big for just one person. You tried to go to a bar, tried to mingle with people in hopes of making your life less lonely. For just one night, at least.

It is not intentional that Art is also in New York, in fact, you’ve tried to steer clear of him and his overbearing presence in your life. It has been months since your last conversation, which consisted of him saying “Happy birthday” and you answering “Thanks”.

You go back to your hotel room after your attempts at not being alone fail miserably. It is partly your fault, because you always end up in the same vicious cycle of comparing the men you meet to Art. No one can compare to him, and you damn your heart for taking over and not letting you have some enjoyment.

You’re sprawled out on the bed, wearing your pajamas and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You consider going to sleep, but something inside you tells you to stay awake and you receive your answer in the form of an imessage notification.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Hey, I heard you’re in NYC.

You

Yeah.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Wanna meet up?

You

Why?

Art (Do NOT contact)

Don’t know.

Just missed you.

You

You can’t just say that.

Art (Do NOT contact)

I know.

Are you free right now?

You

It’s 11pm, Art.

Art (Do NOT contact)

So?

Send me your location.

You

[Location]

Room 904.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Be there in 20.

You’re thrust back into reality when he moves beneath you, hitting a spot that makes you arch your back and has you mewling. Guilt doesn’t even make its way through your mind, if anything, the scandalous nature of what you’re doing makes you wetter than you care to admit.

Art looks up at you like you’re a goddess, a siren that he fell prey to, his eyes shine when he takes in the sight above him. Your tits are bouncing in front of his face, and he has to resist the urge to attach his mouth to one of them, but he’s too concentrated on the faces you make.

You whine when he grabs your hips and moves you up and down quicker than before. Your hands are planted on his chest, grabbing onto whatever semblance of support you can get. You know how much he likes for you to be on top, loves it when you take control but today he’s antsier and needs to take some control back. So, he settles for tightly gripping your hips and deciding the pace of your movements.

You lean down and connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, teeths clashing and your mouths open to let out a moan when the other does something that makes your toes curl.

“Please,” he breathes out against your mouth, “Please, let me come.”

“Do you deserve it?” you ask, rearing back to look at him but you don't slow your movements either.

“Yes, yes I do,” he pants, brows furrowing when he feels the heat in his core bubbling up.

“Only if I come first,” you say, taking one of his hands and placing it on your sensitive nub.

Art moans at your response and his moves are hasty, rubbing you like his life depends on it. You let out short breaths at his touch, the heat inside you creeping up and ready to set off like fireworks.

He looks at your blissed out expression, how your bottom lip is between your teeth in an attempt to conceal the beautiful sounds you make. He’s tempted to use the other hand that’s on your hip to take your lip away from your teeth, but his thoughts are cut short when you clench tightly around him.

“I’m close, Art,” The blonde doesnt need to hear you say it, he knows your body like the back of his hand.

It is no surprise when you come around him, a high-pitched moan escapes your mouth when your body shakes from pleasure. Like clockwork, Art spills inside his condom almost instantly after your release washes over you.

He gives a few sloppy thrusts after he comes, feeling you collapse onto his chest, tired out from your orgasm. Art kisses the side of your head, heavily breathing and trying to form a coherent thought. Though it is quite hard when he is so fucked out.

You separate yourself from his chest and press another kiss to his lips. Relishing on the closeness between you, he places his hand on the nape of your neck and keeps you in place.

After a few seconds he slips himself out of you. You whine at the loss of the fullness you felt, but he quickly shushes you with a simple kiss. It’s softer this time, sweeter than you deserve and more romantic than you’d like.

You remove yourself from being on top of him, and lay down beside him. The pillow is soft and comforting, you keep your gaze trained on the ceiling and try to calm your harsh breathing down. You hear the rustle of the bed sheets and then feel yourself being covered by them, the soft touch of Art’s hand when he handles the sheets and brushes his knuckles against your chest makes you shiver

“This was fun,” he lets out, like he just got off an amusement park attraction.

You can only hum in response, slightly turning your head to look at him. That is your mistake, because once you take in his beauty you cannot stop doing so. It makes you want to do things you shouldn’t, say things that would ruin whatever’s going on between you two.

“How long are you staying here for?” the question takes you aback, do you want him to know you schedule? A small part of you, the rational one, tells you to lie and put this little rendezvous behind you. But the part that makes most of the decision, the one that you damn each day, makes you tell him the truth.

“Until friday,” you respond, playing with the corner of the bedsheets between your fingers.

“Okay, cool,” he says back, it’s tuesday and that leaves you with just a couple days to see the other. How badly you wish that this wasn't what your relationship was now, but you have to make do with what you have. At least until you're pulled back into reality.

You’re not sure why but the idea of him seeking you out once more, feels your tummy with a fuzzy feeling akin to butterflies.

“Yeah,”

Time seems to stand still for a few minutes, with his hands behind his head and yours resting just below your chest. It’s as if neither of you want to break the moment that’s happening, one that has a close expiration date.

After a moment of quiet, he finally breaks the silence, “I’m glad I’m here,”

You don't know how to respond so you settle for a simple, “Me too,”

For a moment, you both just look at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It's a fleeting connection, intense yet fragile, and you know that despite it neither of you belong to the other.

“I should get going,” he tells you, sitting up from his laid down position in bed and searching for his sprawled around clothes.

“Sure,” you answer as you watch him clothe himself, intently keeping your eyes trained on his figure.

“I’ll text you,” he says when he’s done clothing himself, “We could hang out again,”

“Okay,”

He looks at you once more, and you swear you see him hesitate when he reaches for the door handle. Something inside you aches for him to kiss you goodbye, to give you that intimacy that youre no longer privy to.

But as quick as that thought crosses your mind, he’s out the door.

Art doesn't text you as he said he would. You want to be mad at him, but you know you’ll be waiting for the day he messages you, and you can tally another clandestine meeting to your board. After all, you belong eternally to him and he to you.

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfiction #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson smut #art donaldson imagine #challengers #challengers x reader #challengers fic #challengers x y/n #challengers x you #challengers fanfiction #challengers smut #challengers art donaldson #mike faist

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dovveri · 1 month ago

Text

kidnapping 101

synopsis: who dared kidnap you? you were the mafia boss of your city who the hell had the audacity to pull a move this big?

warnings: guns, kidnapping, swearing, mafia stuff yk but like its comedic? so its not srs or angsty

w/c: 2.6k

a/n: put off posting this bcs i wanted to add more plot more word count but then that anon said they dont read long fics anyway so i cbb. it's implied momo x reader but it can also just be everyone friends yay

.ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎

you had a straw bag pulled over your head and felt hands shoving you into a hard wooden chair, hands tied behind your back. you huff, unbelieving of the situation you've found yourself in, but try to keep yourself collected enough to assess the situation and to not let your attackers know they had caught you by surprise.

you doubt anyone could guess you were a mafia boss in your day life. you were just another university student after all. funnily enough, university students were also your main customer base, they needed cheap, accessible drugs, and you provided. though they never dealt with you personally, you were worth much more than rookie errand runs and simple intimidation.

so how the fuck did these people find out who you were?

you were captured coming out of the university library, you weren't even up to anything illegal today. you just wanted to get away from all the responsibilities underground and actually get some study done for once. you didn't get to catch a glimpse of your assailants before you were drugged and fell unconscious.

you strain your ears, trying to hear the muffled whispering going on.

"-what? what do we do now?"

"how am i supposed to know?!."

"i don't know you're smarter than me!"

"ugh oh my god i can't believe nayeon put us up to this. did we really just drug someone?! wait fuck- look she's waking up-"

the bag is pulled off your head and you snarl unceremoniously, blinking to adjust to the dim light in the room, quickly surveying your surroundings and tugging on your restraints to check on them.

huh. they were only loosely tied up, you could get out of these easily.

you squint at the two girls in the room, they had to be around your age, but you had never seen them before. they weren't on any of your watchlists and you'd know if they belonged to rival mafia gangs.

"who are you?" you demand, voice authoritative and loud, forcing them to shrink back into one another, unsure of what to do.

"w-who are you?!" one of them squeaks out.

you blink.

"you two drugged and kidnapped someone you didn't know?"

they exchange glances, before looking back at you, "well... when you put it like that..."

"momo!"

"what?! she's right sana! what are we doing?!"

"i don't know!"

"neither do i!"

you watch them bicker, fiddling with your restraints and slowly undoing them without catching their attention.

"okay that's enough. who asked you to capture me?"

their faces whip back to yours, one of them, momo, speaks up again. "um... i'm pretty sure we're not meant to tell you that."

"nayeon right?"

she gasps, "are you a mind-reader?!"

you scoff, "i heard you talking when i was waking up."

momo mutters to herself, blushing for having thought otherwise.

"who is nayeon?"

sana speaks up this time, "our friend."

"and your friend asked you to... kidnap me for what reason?"

"erm..." they look at each other again, silently communicating and nervously flitting their eyes around the room, "we're not entirely sure."

"are you two her slaves or something?"

"what?! no!"

"then why are you doing whatever she asks?"

"because she's our friend!"

"right... slaves."

they frown at each other, unsure of themselves.

"so you both don't know who i am?"

"no. should we?"

you're interrupted then, the door to the room opening loudly and another woman striding in.

she pauses when she sees you, blinking slowly, and then she turns on her heel, eyes ablaze and in panic.

"guys who the fuck is this?!"

"how are we supposed to know?! you asked us to kidnap them!"

"what the fuck?! i didn't ask for you to kidnap anyone! i asked for you to steal the answers to the exam next week!"

"no you didn't!"

"yes i did!"

"that's not what you said momo!" sana turns to momo, pointing a finger at her accusingly.

"wha- nayeon you told me you needed to interrogate the person who wrote the exam!"

"that was a joke momo i didn't mean literally!"

"you need to specifiy!"

"what?! why would you think i meant kidnap them?! that's not normal!"

"i thought you were doing it for the thrill or something!"

"sana! why didn't you stop her?!"

sana shrinks, hiding behind momo, "i dunno you've asked us to do some pretty weird stuff before nayeon... it wasn't that out of line."

"what!? like what?!"

"don't put me on the spot! i can't think of anything right now! like- like- like that time you asked us to set off fireworks and we ended up setting the school on fire!"

"that wasn't- you weren't meant to build a bonfire in the middle of an empty classroom! of course the fire would catch!"

"that was my idea...." momo pouts, looking adorably embarrassed.

nayeon sighs, turning back to you, "i'm sorry for all this. this has been a major misunderstanding. are you- do you want us to do anything for you? you won't take this to the police or anything right..?"

you chuckle, the situation absurd to you, how two girls managed to kidnap the most powerful mafia boss in the city by accident.

your thoughts are interrupted by hushed bickering behind nayeon.

"what are we gonna do about the drugs?"

"i don't know give them back to the person that gave them to you."

"they looked scary though..."

"momo why did you accept drugs from a random person anyway?"

"we needed a sedative to kidnap them!"

"you did what?!" nayeon flips around again, eyes comically wide.

momo flinches, backing up into sana who yelps when the other girl steps on her foot in haste, "erm- we- uh..."

"you drugged them?!"

"well-"

nayeon's flipping around to you again, going as far as to bow down and get on her knees, putting her forehead to the floor and apologising profusely, "i'm so sorry! i'll take responsibility for their actions please don't take this the wrong way we really didn't mean to and this has all just been a big misunderstanding-"

you can't help but burst into laughter, shoulders sagging in relief now that you realise you're not in any real danger and your identity was still safe.

they look between each other a little confused, still concerned you were going to turn them in or ask them to do something for you that would be less than ideal. you think it's very cute honestly, you were always surrounded by too-serious mafia security and people asking you what to do, it was refreshing to be around people who knew how to let loose a little. money was important to you as a mafia boss, but you wished your organisation knew how to have relax a little more, the bad guys were always meant to be more lively after all.

"sorry- this is just quite funny, i don't think i've laughed like that in a long time."

they exchange nervous glances again, keeping their distance. you stand, having undone your restraints long ago, stretching a little with a curious glint in your eyes.

sana and momo gape at you, "h-how did you- were you always- didn't we tie you up?"

you shrug, shaking your hands loose for effect, "they weren't hard to undo."

"o-oh... wait who are you again?"

you stretch out a hand to the three of them, "l/n y/n. nice to meet you all. and you can relax, i won't be pressing any charges. you're safe."

"r-right..." nayeon comes forward and shakes your hand gingerly, letting it go as soon as she could and shrinking back next to the other two.

you raise an eyebrow, "so where'd you get such a strong sedative momo? it's alright if i use your names right?"

"y-yes of course." nayeon responds for her, but momo looks back at you, thinking before she replies.

"erm... well i was kinda just asking around outside the campus bar- obviously i didn't say we were going to use it to kidnap you, i just thought uni students might have some sort of access to like party drugs or whatever. i didn't realise it was going to knock you out like that-"

"and who gave you this drug?"

"erm... he was one of the older students i think... the most notable thing about him was his hair. he had big orange hair, curly, it made him kinda look like a clown."

your eyebrows crease together in a frown, so that's why the drug had worked so well. it was one of your own. you were only asking momo to see if there was suddenly new competition around campus for your drug business, but it seemed kim heechul, one of your drug pushers, had made moves of his own.

"what did he say to you?"

"he just told me what kind of drug it was. he didn't even ask me to pay actually- that was the main reason i took it. he just said if i was looking to have a good time this would be the perfect drug for it."

your mind works quickly, piecing the pieces together, anger bubbling up inside you at the realisation of one of your employee's actions.

"a-are... are you okay y/n?" momo looks concerned, stepping forward hesitantly.

you purse your lips, "i'm sorry momo. i just need to make sure... you didn't take any of this drug for yourself did you?"

she frowns, "no. why are you asking?"

you breathe a sigh of relief, "that's good. you three may not know this, but the drug you used to sedate me was mine. i kind of... control the drug market at our uni. i probably should've said that in my introduction to you all. i'm a mafia boss. it's also why i'd never go to the police and turn you in, that'd probably be exactly what they wanted... me to waltz right into a police station where they could hold me indefinitely."

they stare at you in shock, slowly coming to their senses.

"wait so... why would you tell us this? are you not afraid we'll turn you in?"

you laugh, "no. because we're at what you'd call an impasse. you turn me in and i turn you in. so the best solution for both of us is to do neither."

"oh..."

"anyway, i'm sorry you had to go through that momo. the ass that gave you those drugs has already been on a short leash. he probably intended for you to take the drugs and to take advantage of you while you were out. i may run one of the biggest crime organisations in the city but i still have morals. i mean- don't get me wrong i can see why he'd want you you're drop-dead gorgeous but if it were me, i'd just ask you out like any other normal person."

they stare at you while you ramble, still trying to process all the information they were learning, and trying to match their stereotype of a mafia boss in their heads to the girl their age dressed in an oversized hoodie and fluffy pyjama pants in front of them.

momo squeaks, "o-oh!"

"-like you're kind of adorable and really you're just my type which also grosses me out because why do i have the same type as that clown kim heechul- like you don't gross me out sorry i didn't mean for it to sound like that although i think it's quite well established by now that i think you're really attractive so it's definitely not you and kim heechul is definitely getting shot and-"

"woah! woah woah slow down i don't think anyone needs to get shot- um and it's okay you don't need to apologise- i probably should've known better than to take free drugs from a random person on the street..."

you frown, "don't say that. why don't you come under me? i wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of you like that again. and you won't have to worry about stupid stuff like whether or not it's your fault for being adorably innocent, you'll have my full protection."

momo blinks, looking at sana and nayeon for help.

you misunderstand, thinking she's worried about her friends, "your friends can join too. it's decent money, and i won't make any of you do anything you're not comfortable with. i get it y'know? i'm only able to pay for college because i do this, and i'm good at making other people do the dirty work. dangle some drugs and money and people will do anything for you."

nayeon lets out a sound of disbelief, "...this is a joke right? like surely this is a joke. sana pinch me."

sana does exactly that, but nayeon yelps, "not that hard!"

"you asked me to pinch you!"

"yeah pinch me not crab claw me!"

"i just got my nails done it's not my fault!"

before you can laugh at their antiques the door behind them slams open, people rushing in with guns pointed. there's a few screams before hands are clamped over mouths and you feel yourself be surrounded.

you react instantly when you see one of the intruders grab momo by the neck, pointing a gun at her head. you lurch forward, pushing past the people surrounding you, knocking the gun out of their hand and hitting the back of it into the person's head, rendering them unconscious with the force of your blow.

you quickly check on momo, helping her up and inspecting her neck, fingers tingling from where your skin meets.

"boss- what- are you okay?"

"shut up! i was fine! god can't i have a single day to myself without you numbskulls barging in?" you bark with your fingers still daintily checking momo's neck for any marks.

"you- you were kidnapped boss we were just-"

"i'm fine now aren't i? i can take care of myself. i don't need you all watching my every move! i'd like to have some privacy to myself every now and then." you turn back to the bodyguards looking awkward and shuffling around in their bulky protective wear and guns.

"y-yes boss. sorry boss."

"wait for me outside." you sigh, flicking your wrist in annoyance, "and find kim heechul. i need to have a word with him." you add as an afterthought.

they shuffle out the door they came through, mumbling apologies and tripping over themselves. you roll your eyes, refocusing back on the other women in the room.

"i'm sorry about that. are you guys okay?"

they stare at you, faces tinged with red, nayeon speaks up first. "so you weren't joking..."

you shake your head, "and i'm serious about coming under me too. i'm kinda afraid to say it but if word gets out that i was kidnapped, some of my rivals might go out looking for you three and try to recruit you for themselves. they'll treat you a lot worse than i will. and they generally won't take no for an answer..."

"but you'll take no for an answer?" sana chirps in.

"like i said- i don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to."

nayeon and sana look between them, but momo shrugs, smiling up at you, "i'm in. i like you. you're funny."

you grin at her, justifying the immediate connection you felt with her just by being able to anticipate the kind of person she was.

"well if momo's in i'm in." sana agrees happily, slinging an arm around momo.

they look towards nayeon who rolls her eyes and groans, "someone has to make sure the two of you don't kidnap the wrong person again right?"

they all break into laughter and you join them, feeling like you had people you could almost call friends for the first time since you'd started your mafia business.

#momo #hirai momo #twice momo #momo x reader #twice momo x reader #hirai momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #sana #nayeon #namosa #samoyeon #minatozaki sana #im nayeon #dovveri

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4dbarbie-archive · 2 months ago

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4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free

Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization

My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4

Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.

You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.

And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.

So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.

Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.

Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.

Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!

Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.

#remix #4dbarbie #nonduality #non duality #nondualism #non dualism

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ijwrsmff · 3 months ago

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Hey, i hope ur having a good dayy...heard yu wanted some yandere arcane asks...how about vi(romantic) with a naïve piltover darling (generally soft and clumsy as well) fem reader please!!💖💕

Thank you so much that's so sweet!!! I'm getting to requests really late, but I'm doing my best XD thank you for requesting and your patience! Even though it's really late, I hope you enjoy ^^

Soooo glad the second season is coming out soon, I crave it so bad XD

Words: 1,642

Vi was in Piltover, doing what she joked was a small heist. It was just her this time, Vander having cracked down on them all not returning to top side in fear of their safety. She made sure Powder was safe first, and left her in the boy’s care. She had received word there was an event going on, a series of stalls and shops along the road. It was the perfect opportunity to blend in and steal from all the rich assholes who could buy out the whole street if they wanted to.

…That was her plan anyway.

It started off simple enough, showing up right in the middle of the day when it was the most busy. She paid close attention to the people who looked like they had more money than others…and with how idiotic people could be, it wasn’t hard to tell who could afford the most. Starting off, she took small items they had purchased that she thought could go for more underground. She didn’t expect to be bumped into as a girl fell to the ground.

As it were, you only wanted to go to see what the shops had to offer. You weren’t paying much attention though, and bumped into something…or someone. Both you and the person fell to the ground, and you looked up at her from the ground as you whined and rubbed the spot on your leg you just knew would be bruised later. She was laying next to you, and you caught sight of her snarl. You jumped up looking her over.

“Crud! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you! Did I damage anything you’d bought? I can’t believe I did that again! Gah!” You whined and looked at her as if seeking forgiveness. She looked baffled, and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I can pay for anything I broke! Here, let me buy you something, too!” You took her hand, and she accepted it. You couldn’t tell what expression was on her face, but you were terrified you’d made a bad impression on this woman.

“Uh…you don’t have to. I have what I need.” Vi spoke, and she seemed guarded. It was almost as if she thought you were tricking her, not believing you were really being this nice to a stranger. “You hurt, cupcake?” She said, seemingly coming to a conclusion in her mind. She brushed off your shoulders, touch lingering only briefly. Her touch was rough, but it didn’t seem to phase you.

“I’m not hurt! Not any more hurt than I usually am when I fall anyway…” You mumbled the last bit, and shook your head. “And it’s okay! I insist, it’s the least I could do!” Your smile was wide and bright, and somehow contagious. As soon as you locked eyes with her, she smiled back at you, though her smile was much more akin to a smirk.

She leaned forward so your faces were near each other, and her eyes glazed over yours and she continued to smirk as she pulled back. “If you really insist, I have something in mind.” Her original mission had subsided in her mind, and it seemed she had a new plan she wanted to see through. She was still being cautious, but she would play along for now. This could prove to be entertaining, afterall.

You yapped away, Vi barely getting any words in since giving you her name. She didn’t seem to mind though, and listened closely to everything you had to say. It didn’t take long to learn all about you, considering the fact that you told her basically all the important information. It was fun! You got to tell her all about your job, your close group of friends, and your favorite hobbies and pastimes. Vi even asked questions to learn more, despite you not picking up on her prodding more into your personal life.

She had tried to justify it as gathering intel for her next trip with Powder and the boys, but she was growing more intrigued by the second. Though as you reached the stall she had escorted you to, you looked at her. “Oh! A flower stall! Are you getting flowers for someone? That’s so thoughtful!” You giggled, and looked at the wide array of different flowers local to your home and even exported from further off.

Vi smirked, before putting on a small act. She sighed deeply, and looked deep in thought. “I’d love to get her flowers, but I’m not sure what kind she likes. There’s too many to choose from, it’s overwhelming…what kind do you like?” She looked over to you, eyes full of mischief. She only smiled wider when it seemed like you didn’t gather the implications.

“I think these one’s here are the prettiest, and the bouquet has a good variety of flowers! So no matter the room, you can probably make the flowers suit it perfectly!” You thought carefully about your answer, wanting to make sure she could get the best possible ones for the girl she wanted to get them for. It was no trouble, you did bump into her, so it only seemed fitting to help out however you could.

“I see…” She said, and picked up the bouquet you chose. “I hope she’ll like these.” As she said it in a thoughtful but playful tone, before handing them to you. “So, do you like them?” Her hand was outstretched, and you looked at the flowers in confusion. She could practically see the gears turning in your head, and tried to wait to see if you’d understand.

“THEY’RE FOR ME?!” You said, way louder than you meant to. It brought a light blush to your cheeks and you pouted at her. “But I’m the one that bumped into you! I should be getting you a gift!” You looked around the booth, and quickly picked up a bouquet of flowers you thought would suit her. Paying quickly, you copied her motion of giving her the flowers.

“These are for you then! They have colors that remind me of you and your hair, so I guess it’s…a trade?” You thought carefully, trying to decide if you’d be satisfied with a trade rather than providing something to her from your stumble into her. The flowers weren’t very expensive, so it didn’t really seem fair.

“How sweet of you…” Vi said, a glimmer of something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. “I’ll happily accept these flowers from you, cupcake.” She gave a wink, but by now she knew you wouldn’t understand the undertones of her words and meaning. She’d have to be more direct to get through to you. Stepping up her game seemed in order, but not just yet.

“Let me at least buy you something else!” You pleaded, wide eyes as you looked around the stalls to find something else you could give her for her troubles. But Vi looked to the sky, cursing under her breath. At the noise, you tilted your head and asked, “Is something wrong?” You sounded worried, and it only made her heart swell further.

“My sister is waiting for me at home, I have to go.” She seemed reluctant to say it, but started walking away with a glance to you over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll meet again.” To you, the words were reassuring…whereas most people would have seen it as ominous. You barely knew her, but you welcomed her regardless. There’s no way in hell this would be the last time she saw you.

“But! I have to buy you something else!” You called, jogging the few steps to catch up with her. She had the flowers you had bought her in her arms, and the other items she’d “bought” within her carry pack. She stopped as you approached, you putting a hand on her shoulder.

She hummed, turning to look fully at you before smirking with a dark glint in her eyes. “Then…” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek, before playfully breathing into your ear, “We’ll make it a date. Next time, you can take me out on the condition I get to take you out after.” She pulled back, and could have burst out laughing from the shocked look on your face as you blushed.

It only made you smile wide, “Okay! It’s a promise then! Do I get to pick what we do for our date?” You hopped once in place and waited eagerly for her response.

“Of course, cupcake. Anything you wanna do.” With her final words, she turned, as you lost her in the crowd of people. It only then occurred to you that she had no way of knowing where you lived. What if she got lost and never saw you again? Or even worse, what if you never saw her again? It had crushed your spirit a little, and your eyes cast down as you pouted, walking back to your house.

Though from the shadows, Vi loomed. She watched you walk all the way home, making note of any recognizable locations and landmarks so she would remember exactly how to get to you. You were a new form of intoxication she’d never experienced. You were pure, innocent. You didn’t pick up on her flirting until she made sure you did, and you never once questioned her attire or why you’d never seen her before. It made her let out a chuckle, as she watched you, almost hungrily.

You’d see her again, sooner than you’d think…and she’d make sure you could never forget her. She knew it was just a matter of time before she corrupted that innocence of yours, making you hers in any way she wanted…any way she desired.

You should have run when you had the chance, cupcake.

#arcane x reader #fem! reader #yandere! vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #yandere arcane x reader #no blood or violence...yet #x reader #request #fem reader

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blushcoloreddreams · 3 months ago

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Perfume IS an essencial: Here’s 4 reasons why

Good Afternoon Dear Reader! Happy Saturday directly from Argentina

Before we dive into today's topic, I wanted to talk briefly about why these "practical" and lighter and style blog posts are JUST as important as the heart-felt blogs on heavier topics and more practical ones like organization, cooking and cleaning tips

This blog is a place where I am trying to gather useful information to help us grow as feminine women, whether that is in our hearts, our homes, our lives, or even in our own skin. I believe in a well-rounded growth perspective: I am trying to improve many areas of my life, even if they are just practical and simple.

So today I wanted to talk about one of these more "practical and simple" topics: perfume.

At first glance this topic can seem kind of boring, like "yeah, no one likes smelling bad, so wear perfume, DUH." But I think perfume is so much more than that!

I believe that a spritz of perfume can actually improve your day, your confidence, and your overall aura as a feminine woman.

***DISCLAIMER: I know that smells can trigger allergic reactions in people, and there are actually fragrance-free zones such as certain churches or work environments. Do not break those rules just to follow my advice LOL!

The women jn my life were always had a passion from perfumery and I remember using it even as a child, but I only started being interested in it during my teenage years and in the past my interest and collection only grew. But I remember that during times of intense sadness in my life, I understand that something simple as even filling in your eyebrows can be a completely exhausting task! So much personal care falls off your daily routine when you can't handle what life is throwing at you and I think that adding perfume to your routine can be an easy way to elevate your grooming.

In order to really stick to this habit, I decided to focus on WHY I should wear perfume. So here we go! This may convince you too.

1. Perfume Adds LUXURY To Life

I know what some of you may be thinking: "I'm just at home, and deodorant is good enough for me!" or "I'm just in an office chair, why do I need to smell amazing?" and finally, "I'm just going to work out later so it doesn't matter!"

You know what I say to all those reasons?

You are an amazing woman and you deserve to have a little extra luxury in your day, even if you are behind a vacuum, a computer, or a treadmill.

Most of us aren't going to be lounging on a velvet chaise with champagne and a cashmere blanket wrapped around us tonight anyways! We're not living that lux life, so why not add extra luxury into our days?

When you're vacuuming the house or reading through spreadsheets, it can be easy to feel like cinderella BEFORE she went to the ball. A fragrance reminds you that you are an elegant, feminine WOMAN, and that you are WORTHY of a little luxury.

So pick up a fragrance you love, (doesn't have to be costly,) and indulge! You are WORTHY of that extra 10 seconds on yourself.

2. Perfume Can Make You HAPPIER!

So today I was spritzing on some body spray when I realized that I had a soft smile on my face. Seriously: I was just smiling to myself! Sol de Janeiro cheirosa 71 (my newest obsession! ) evokes a reaction of pleasure: it makes me smile.

Do you remember learning about the senses in school? They can evoke emotion, thoughts, feelings, and action. Touch can make you take action when you feel pain. Taste evokes pleasure when you encounter delicious food. Likewise, smell can evoke pleasant emotion or distaste.

If there was a little life hack that could have you smiling 2 more times a day than you already do, wouldn't you do it? Fragrance is SUCH simple way to accomplish this!

And a bonus? When you smell good, other people notice! I LOVE when my husband tells me I smell good, or when a friend goes in for a hug and comments that she loves the smell I'm wearing. Smelling good feels GOOD!

3. Perfume Helps You Get in Touch With FEMININITY

When I was a kid, Id watch every morning my mom and grandma get ready and wear their favorite perfumes ( that I have the smell in my memory to this day). I made a promise to myself that when I became a woman at the age of I would begin doing 3 things EVERY DAY: wearing lipstick, carrying a stylish purse, and wearing perfume.

I think I knew, even as a child, that perfume was for women. Full grown, feminine, gracious, beautiful women. Adding fragrance to your routine is a way of stepping into that feminine womanhood and embracing yourself.

Perfume can also be especially helpful for women who are kind of uncomfortable with their femininity. You can begin exploring the possibilities with just a small change. Add a bit of mystery, femininity, sweetness, or glamour to ANY outfit. Elevate your look and tip toe into femininity with a fragrance. Pair a ponytail and sneakers with some vanilla body spray: you might be surprised at how it makes you smile!

4. Perfume Helps You EXPRESS Yourself

I truly believe that the sense of smell is neglected in our modern culture. We are MUCH more focused on the visuals of our beauty routine: hair, fashion, makeup, etc. And why? Well, you can't smell a picture on Instagram! Why invest in something so small when no one can really experience it? Who cares about smell?

Well, maybe we SHOULD care! When you meet someone, you are taking them in through a lot of the senses: a firm handshake, the visuals of their face, the way their voice sounds, and yes, THEIR SMELL!

When you go out into the world, think about the entire picture of you as a person: your smell, your style, your "vibe." What is your overall aura? Perfume can help you add a dimension of creative expression to your overall vibe and style. Express yourself!

***Bonus tip: Hydration is essential for perfume performance and it starts from the inside by drinking enough water and continues with applying lotion before your perfume. (Even better if you can do it post shower when your skin is still a bit damp). Some people also apply a small bit of vaseline or petroleum jelly to your wrists and neck (the pulse regions) before you spray. It helps your scent last longer!

And closing, perfume can add luxury to our day, help us feel happy, help us get in touch with femininity, and allow us to express ourselves! What's not to love?

xoxo

Júlia

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softkostyk · 8 days ago

Text

Apparently AO3 needs to give the collection approval before they can post it , but I’m impatient, so here’s my Angelblack one shot set about a week after 1x08 (the Rupert/Cameron issue is not discussed, but I imagined a scenario on which it was somehow dealt with).

anxious angel I’ll wrap you in heart shaped bubble wrap so you won’t get hurt

“Daddy is going to murder you,” Taggie said with a light shake of the head, strawberry blonde hair catching the early morning sunlight just outside the Priory. Rupert had started visiting at times where Declan was less likely to see him and Taggie alone–and he had quickly grown rather tired of it. He didn’t want his feelings for Taggie to be a secret. He didn’t think he’d been doing that good of a job at hiding them, anyway.

“I very much doubt that,” said Rupert with a tilt of the head. “Blood is a nuisance to clean off tapestry.”

Taggie looked up at him with a raised eyebrow that Rupert knew exactly translated to “Be serious”.

“Angel,” he started again, reaching to touch her shoulders. “He will be pissed. I can agree on that. He will try to pummel my face with his fists. But he will also have to surrender, eventually.”

“Declan O’ Hara doesn’t surrender,” Taggie sighed. “You saw his reaction to those photos in the car–and we weren’t doing anything.”

“You can make your own decisions,” Rupert provided unhelpfully.

“Yes, but I am still afraid. I don’t want to lose my dad. And I’m sure you don’t want to lose your friend.”

How typical of Taggie, hitting the target with all the precision of a professional archer. Of course Rupert didn’t want to lose Declan’s friendship. Hell, his only true (human) friend had been Lizzie for so long, he’d grown quite addicted to being able to rely on more than one person. He’d always known it was dangerous–just as befriending, and developing feelings for Taggie had been.

But there was no going back, was it? He meant what he told her. He hadn’t realized just how much harder it had become, something as simple as breathing, before he met her. Watching her with someone else felt like being stabbed in the chest by a thousand fireplace pokers. And for perhaps the first time in his life, being with someone else felt like true betrayal; to Taggie, and to himself. He wanted to be the man she thought he could be. He wanted it desperately. And Declan would have to just bloody deal with it.

***

Taggie entered the kitchen first, eyeing her father warily as he absentmindedly puffed on a cigarette, the day’s newspaper spread across one bent knee.

“Dad,” Taggie made herself say. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’m all ears, love,” he said without taking his eyes off the paper. Taggie stopped fidgeting with the sleeve of her jumper.

Rupert slowly walked into the room, his usual easy gate, a small, if tight smile on his lips.

That caught Declan’s attention.

“What are you doing here? The meeting is in a few hours,” he said, his mustache twitching in a curious smile.

Taggie glanced at Rupert, who in turn glanced at her.

“I wish I could say I am sorry, Declan,” he said as he took hold of Taggie’s hand. Her heart was beating rabbit-fast against her ribcage.

Her dad’s smile quickly evaporated as his brown eyes moved to Taggie and Rupert’s joined hands.

“No,” he said. One short, inescapable word.

“Declan,” Rupert started, but he got up, the chair scraping horribly against the tiled floor.

“Again? Fucking again? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Daddy, please–”

“Your room, Tag. Now.”

“I’m not a child! I will not be banished to my room when the conversation is about me, Dad!” She held tight onto Rupert’s rough palm, gripped onto his fingers for dear life. She would not back down, and she would not be quiet.

“You get your hands off her in the next two seconds, or I’ll break your fucking nose, Campbell,” her dad said, ignoring her entirely.

“Fine,” Rupert said, and Taggie’s head was already whipping towards him, but Rupert’s encouraging nod made her loosen her grip on his hand. “See?” He added, raising both palms in a placating gesture.

“What the fuck did you do to her, mmh?”

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Rupert said ruefully. “It was one kiss, Declan. Maybe two–”

But her dad was already crushing Rupert’s freshly pressed shirt in his fists and slamming him against the nearest cabinet, its content rattling wildly.

“Dad!”

“You think I won’t kill you? Are you testing me?” He said, eyes ablaze as Rupert gritted his teeth, clearly not wanting to hit back.

“I need you to listen to me–”

“Shut the fuck up!” Declan roared. “You are not going to be shagging my daughter, do you understand? She will not be a bloody notch in your belt!”

“Do you remember when you interviewed me?” Rupert asked after her dad smashed him against the fridge, this time. Taggie was torn between screaming and crying.

“I should have fucking ruined you when I had the–”

“You asked me if I’d ever been in love!” Rupert shouted, and her dad went dreadfully still. Rupert took a breath and then said, “I said I hadn’t. And I thought I hadn’t–I didn’t think I could.”

He looked over at Taggie over her father’s shoulder, and her lips parted in surprise.

“I can apologise for hurting you, Declan. But I cannot apologise for the way I feel about Taggie.”

Taggie wanted to grab his father’s shoulders and pull him away from Rupert, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Taggie had never been good with words–which her mother never allowed her to forget–but in that moment, she thought there weren’t any words that would suffice to explain the rumbling in her chest, the tightness in ehr throat.

Her father kept one arm against Rupert’s neck as he turned to look at her. There was something complicated in his expression–sad, almost. Taggie couldn’t bear it.

“He’s going to hurt you,” he said, as if it were obvious. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“So which is it? I’m a stupid child, but he’s not good enough?”

“I never called you that,” he hissed.

Taggie shook her head, expelling a shaky breath. “If I get hurt, then I get hurt.”

Her dad’s dark eyebrows joined on his forehead. Rupert’s eyes were only for her–even when he was risking being beaten half to death.

“I did everything right. I went out with Sebastian. I tried, and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to be unhappy for the sake of p–p–propriety. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep everyone happy, but that’s it, daddy. I want to be happy, too. I think I deserve it.”

Her dad seemed, impossibly, lost. Until a few days ago she’d never seen him at a loss for words–and now, twice in the span of days. First when her mother left for London, and now.

“He is twice your age, Tag,” he said then, helplessly.

“There’s nothing I can do about that,” she shrugged, pressing her lips together.

He let go of Rupert then, though Taggie suspected it had less to do with him not wanting to hurt the man anymore, and more with wanting to give her his full attention, if only this once. Rupert released a quiet breath, straightening. She hoped he wouldn’t be stupid enough to talk.

“He beds a different woman every other day. He will let you down, Tag. Men like him always do.” He fished in his pocket to grab another cigarette, and Taggie wordlessly passed him the matchsticks box.

“Maybe. Maybe things can be different.” She could never know it for sure, but she believed in Rupert. She felt it, somewhere deep inside her, that he could be who she needed him to be. And most importantly, that he wanted to.

“Things are different,” Rupert said quietly. Her dad grimaced around the cigarette, slowly turning to face Rupert once more.

“Say I give you my blessing–which I will not. How are you going to protect her, mmh? The press would get wind of it soon enough. Brand her as your plaything.” He spit out the last word, and Taggie frowned at the prospect.

“I will do whatever is necessary. I won’t let anyone speak ill of Taggie, and if they do, they’ll find themselves jobless the day after. You know I can do that.”

Taggie bit on her lower lip; she didn’t think she was terribly fragile, and she had been trying hard not to care about what others might think of her. But the sheer protectiveness in Rupert’s tone warmed her from the inside out, and she’d be lying if she didn’t say it made her feel safe, to know he would be in her corner, no matter what.

“And if I ban her from seeing you? If I kick her out when she doesn’t?”

Taggie shook her head, her stomach dropping as she called for her dad, but Rupert said, “I don’t think you would do that. But if you do, she has a place to stay.”

“Remember when I interviewed you?” Her dad added after an eternity, mocking Rupert’s question from a few minutes before. “I lied. I was very much not bluffing–and I can still hurt you with what I have.”

Rupert’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised–but he shouldn’t have been. Taggie had hoped that was all in the past, but she knew her father too well to think he didn’t have some cards left to play. Rupert hung his head, and Taggie trembled, afraid he would just accept defeat.

“Send it to The Scorpion, then.”

Taggie’s breath wooshed out of her, and Declan stilled.

“Whatever it is, it cannot possibly hurt more than giving Taggie up.”

Taggie knew she had to exercise some self restraint if she didn’t want to be calling an ambulance up at the Priory for the second time, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking past her dad and to Rupert’s side. He gave her a small smile, and she smiled right back.

When she turned, her dad’s cigarette was a stub between his fingers. He looked between the two of them, and so much was swirling in his eyes–disappointment, worry, hurt. Taggie didn’t know what resignation looked like on Declan O’ Hara’s features, but she thought she might be glimpsing something like it now.

“Venturer needs your money,” he said. “I don’t like it. I don’t like that you are doing this to me. If you want to stay, you’ll have to stay out of my sight.”

Rupert nodded, and some part of Taggie felt selfish for forcing him to give up something Ruper had quite literally everything riding on. But the other part of her, the part that was louder and braver, couldn’t help but relish in the knowledge she was more important to him than Venturer. Than her dad’s friendship. Than, potentially, his reputation.

“Alright,” Rupert said, his knuckles brushing Taggie’s. He gave her a long look, and Taggie wanted to kiss him, but there would be many more chances to do just that. Rupert left, Declan trembling with restrained rage and without sparing him a glance.

“Daddy,” Taggie breathed.

He shook his head, raising one hand to silence her, and stormed out of the room.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed them shut, held out for the nearest chair to steady her. She didn’t want her dad to hate her, to think her naive, to stop talking to her.

But, in truth, she was also relieved.

Caitlin would support her–Patrick too, maybe. And Rupert would be there. She was choosing herself, for the very first time, and it filled her with such potent light, she promised herself she would never go back to the shadows.

***

“I’m sorry,” Taggie told Rupert that evening as they walked, hand in hand, down the sloping path that took them from Lizzie’s house to the Priory. She’d invited Rupert for tea, and Taggie had joined them as soon as she could get there. Lizzie had been mildly surprised–more about Taggie, than about Rupert. He appreciated Lizzie speaking her mind, openly telling Tag to be careful, and warning him not to screw things up.

“What about?” Rupert asked.

“Dad,” she said simpy. “Working with him is going to be a nightmare.”

Rupert chuckled, his thumb drawing soothing motions across Taggie’s. He felt her shiver slightly, and he pressed his shoulder to hers. “You know I love a challenge.”

“You can pretend it doesn’t hurt, but I know it does.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then said a simple, “Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

He turned to her, and the feeble orange light from the setting sun hit her blue eyes. He’d never seen anything more lovely. “Not one bit.”

Taggie laughed, for the first time today, and Rupert smiled back. He was so unabashedly happy to see her happy–to know that for all the people he’d hurt, there was one person in the world he would never. Could never. It wasn’t redemption, but it was real. His chest stirred with affection too strong to be contained, and they stopped in the street as he pulled her close, splaying his fingers on her waist. She smiled up at him again. He felt as if he’d been touched by the sun for the very first time.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said. Taggie whispered an acnowledgement, eyes bright.

So he did.

He held her close as their lips touched, her mouth tasting faintly of the chocolate she had at Lizzie’s. Her soft hands came up to his face, caressing him gently, in a way no one ever had before. They detached, briefly, and though it’d been a chaste enough kiss, Rupert had to stop to get back his breath.

“You really are an angel,” he said.

“Angels look over people,” she replied. “Keep them safe.”

Rupert nodded. “I’m no angel. But I’ll do the same for you.”

Taggie stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, Rupert’s eyes fluttering closed.

“I know,” she said, putting her hand in the crook of Rupert’s arm.

And he walked her home.

#angelblack #rupert campbell black #taggie o'hara #rupert x taggie #taggie x rupert #rivalsedit #Rupert x taggie fix #no beta we die like Tony (possibly

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wilwheaton · 5 months ago

Note

One very simple question :)

(Tv/comics)

Marvel. Or DC?

I have liked them both and disliked them both, at different points in my life, for a variety of reasons. At the moment, I'm not paying attention to them at all.

When I was a kid, I was all about Xmen and Fantastic Four from Marvel and, Batman and Justice League (Marv Wolfman's run in the late 80s) from DC. Never really cared for Superman. The 1967 Spider-Man was awesome as a cartoon, but I rarely read the comic book.

In the 70s, I was only allowed one comic per week, usually picked out from whatever was left on that spinning rack at the drugstore. So more often than not, I ended up with something like House of Secrets or House of Mystery or one of those horror anthologies that didn't need me to read the issues before or after, like the serialized superhero comics did. I got a lot of replay value from those books.

In the 80s, I had my own money and the ability to drive myself to comic conventions, and that's when I fell in love with Sandman, Watchmen, pretty much the entire Prestige Format that became Vertigo. I recall feeling like Marvel was for kids, then, and DC was serious. I was only 16, so take that for what it's worth.

But speaking of being 16, I'm gonna focus on Batman for a sec. I loved Batman 89, and I think all the efforts to make a Batman movie ever since have fallen short in ways I couldn't predict back then. It's gotten better with age and by comparison, for me. Michael Keaton is my favorite Batman, the way Christian Bale is my favorite modern Bruce Wayne (they both pale next to Pure. West. if anyone asks me).

The OG Batman series is maybe my favorite series of all time not called Star Trek or The Prisoner, and the 1966 movie is my favorite of all the Batman movies. Of course I love the animated series, and I get to be Blue Beetle in Brave and the Bold, so that's pretty awesome and its whole own thing.

Turning to the current moment, with rare exception, all the MCU and DCU movies do nothing for me. I thought I must have been missing something, so tried really hard to give them a chance to knock me out. I watched as many of the MCU movies as I could stand, and I just felt exhausted and bored by all of it, by the time I got to ... I can't even remember. Something with maybe Thanos and Ant-Man? I felt like it was a big, complicated mess of fan service and meetings that could have been e-mails, resulting in in a stew full of interesting ingredients that have all blended together into a flavorless paste. I do enjoy all the James Gunn movies, though, even if Chris Pratt is the worst Chris, because James always centers the characters and their conflicts, then uses the action and stunts to support the story.

I feel like a lot of this sounds harsh, but even Star Wars, my favorite movie when I was a kid, has grown into something I don't recognize or care about. I'm old. I know what I like and what I don't like. I'm not patient like I once was, and it's clear I'm not the person those studios want in the theatre, anyway. I could make that joke about how it's the children who are wrong, but I accept that I am not in the demo, and I am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the spectacle and the experience of seeing those films with an enthusiastic audience. I just won't be there with you, but you can find me in the parking lot, yelling at a cloud.

...wow that's a very big answer to a very simple question.

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bosbas · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 13: I thought we had no chance

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 2.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

August 4, 1816 – It is with a touch of disappointment that I must report the utter lack of excitement brought by the Montclairs this season. The French family arrived in London with a promise of brilliance, only to leave us wanting in the absence of any true spectacle. One would expect that such a distinguished and intriguing family would set the ton ablaze with stories of romance and intrigue. Yet, all we have is a chill in the air and a longing for what could have been.

Young Louis Montclair may still be too green to set hearts aflutter, but Lady Y/N Montclair, with her grace and charm, should have at least gifted us with a simple love story, if not the grand epic we so eagerly anticipated. But there is still time for her to find a match, and with so many eligible bachelors in Mayfair, the possibilities are endless.

You scoffed at the gossip column in your hand, scandalized.

“I’m not that boring, am I?” you wondered aloud.

Eloise snorted, looking up from her book as she sat across from you in the Bridgerton sunroom. “I assume you read Whisteldown? She was particularly ruthless this morning, I will admit. It is your first season, after all!”

You grumbled in annoyance, once again displeased by the expectations this mystery woman had placed upon you. It wasn’t like anyone knew who you were before you arrived in London. It wasn’t until her column that people started spreading rumors and believing you had something to offer that the rest of the ton did not.

But alas, what were you to do about it? If everyone in the ton expected you to have a magical love story and find the love of your life, they could have been so kind as to provide you with someone to fall for.

And that had not been the case so far. You had not found anyone to grow feelings for yet. No one suitable, at least, you mentally corrected yourself as you looked at Colin, who had just walked through the door. But it wasn’t like you actually had feelings for him. He was just Colin, the man who regularly drove you insane, initial misunderstanding or not.

“Are you ladies ready?” he asked, placing his hands behind his back politely.

You smiled to yourself at his gesture, but quickly shook the thought away as you looked at Eloise.

“Thank you again for chaperoning, Colin,” she said, smiling a little too wide for someone who was simply going to a gallery with her friend and her brother.

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “I still don’t understand why we needed another chaperone. Elizabeth is quite enough on her own,” you said, referring to your lady’s maid, who was going to come with you as well.

“Each of us needs a chaperone,” Eloise responded as if it was obvious.

Not entirely convinced, you raised an eyebrow archly and turned to look at Colin, who just shrugged in response.

“And you wanted to come? Willingly?” you asked him.

He laughed, highly amused at how suspicious you were of him. “I promise you, I was not forced to come against my will.”

“Well, let’s go then,” urged Eloise, hooking her arm in yours and dragging you out of the room.

---

Colin looked around the room, eyes searching for you. It had become second nature to look for you in every room he was in, and he could freely admit to himself that you were too captivating to look away from.

Being friends with you might not have been his first choice, but it was yours, and he was more than happy to comply. He would find love again, eventually. Or maybe he wouldn’t. But he would rather respect your wishes and never be with you romantically than pressure you into something you could never want.

At present, you were standing very still, eyes wide and looking at the painting in front of you. Colin walked over to look at the work, and you inhaled sharply as he neared you.

Looking curiously at the painting, Colin recognized the French landscape, painted in the winter. He felt you breathing steadily next to him, and it was all he could do not to reach out and hold your hand.

“Is that what it really looks like?” he asked softly. He had only ever been to Paris, but he knew your family was from the countryside.

You nodded, blinking and turning to him. Smiling, you pointed to a chateau in the background of the painting.

“That’s in Tours, it’s very close to my home,” you said, fondness and nostalgia evident in your voice.

“I’d like to- I’ve never been there,” Colin stuttered out. Perhaps telling you that he wanted to go with you to your childhood home might be slightly too forward.

“You should go, it’s lovely in the summer,” you replied, nodding toward the painting. “I haven’t spent a summer there in many years.”

Hearing the wistfulness in your voice, Colin had to cross his arms to resist the urge to pull you into his chest. Usually, he was happy to be your friend. But sometimes, during moments like these, he wished that he could do away with social norms and simply hold you.

But alas, it was not meant to be.

“Do you ever wish you had stayed in one place your whole life?” Colin settled for asking.

You shook your head, biting your lip as you turned to smile at him. “Do you ever wish you had stayed home longer instead of traveling?”

“I suppose not,” he conceded, thinking of all the experiences he would have missed out on if he had stayed in England. “But I do feel a bit guilty when I come home and see that Hyacinth suddenly is a master at the pianoforte, and I realize that I missed all of it. Or that Gregory joins us on hunts now and I had no idea.”

“I do often miss my siblings now that they’re married and no longer live at home,” you agreed. “But traveling made you who you are, and it wouldn’t do Gregory and Hyacinth any good to have you home but not yourself. I am certain they know that you love them very much, regardless of whether you’re home all the time or not.”

“I wish I had someone to travel with,” Colin blurted out before he could stop himself.

Cringing, he looked at you nervously. But you only turned to him, smiling.

“I rather think the same,” you sighed. “That was what I wanted when I first began the season. A husband who would want to travel with me, or at least let me leave the country every now and then.”

“And was that really so hard to find?” asked Colin sarcastically, knowing that the men of the ton were not quite as adventurous as he was.

“Well, finding one who also had a fortune and was titled was certainly an impossible task. I don’t really know what I was thinking,” you chided yourself, shaking your head at your own naivety. “I was certainly setting myself up for failure.”

“I’m certain that’s not true!” rushed out Colin, desperate to make you feel better, no matter how much he despised thinking about you with someone else. “I’m sure some man or another will show face as the perfect candidate.”

“I think what I want and what my parents want for me are two fundamentally opposed ideals. But perhaps my luck will turn in Spain next season.”

“Spain?” asked Colin, feeling his heart drop to his stomach at the thought of you leaving.

Though it had to happen eventually, with your father’s expectations as to who your husband could be, Colin still got a stabbing feeling in his chest when he thought of losing you forever. He had only known you for four months, but already you had completely changed him. He was more sure of himself now, he felt completely understood by someone for the first time, and most importantly, he knew what it felt like to be in love. The thought of it all slipping from his grasp at the end of the season was almost too much to bear.

“I was thinking I might give Spain a try and see if I have better luck in finding a husband there,” you said, attempting a carefree laugh but not quite succeeding at it.

“Oh,” responded Colin, not quite sure what else to say on the matter.

You had clearly made your decision, and he wasn’t sure what else he had to offer to make you stay for a little while longer. Nothing that would convince you, he thought. No title and no fortune.

Perhaps his mother had been wrong. Perhaps his love was not always enough. Especially given the fact that you were not interested in him in the slightest, that much was clear.

The best he could do for you now was to be your friend. And to never let you know that he loved you. Colin knew a confession of his feelings would only weigh on your mind heavily, adding nothing and taking away so much.

Realizing he had been staring into your eyes for a bit longer than was appropriate for two people who weren’t courting, Colin cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned to face the painting once more.

“I believe I saw another of his works down the hall. Would you care to take a look?” he offered, holding out his arm for you to take.

On the other side of the room, Eloise stood with Lady Danbury. The two had been deep in conversation for the better part of their time at the gallery, but neither had forgotten to keep an eye on you and Colin. Laughing to herself when she saw her brother follow after you like a lovesick puppy, Eloise turned to Lady Danbury, who was already looking in that direction.

“They make quite a pair, don’t they?” said the older woman. “I never thought I would see the day that Colin Bridgerton was ready to fall at the feet of a woman. And one he isn’t even courting, at that!”

Eloise laughed. “Me neither. However, I have been trying to get him to do something about it. Hence why I brought him here as my chaperone. Rest assured he would not have been my first choice otherwise.”

---

A few days later, you were sitting in the garden with your sister, Charlotte, and her husband. It had been a rainy few days, and at the first hint of sunshine, you had rushed out to enjoy the good weather, wanting to enjoy any moment when it wasn’t raining.

It seemed the rest of your family had a similar idea. Your father, accompanied by your brothers, had all marched boisterously outside, guns in hand as they prepared for an afternoon of shooting.

“Lovely weather, that,” said Louis, greeting Edward with a clap on the back.

“I don’t know how you and Charlotte do it,” said Jacques, who usually lived in sunny Tuscany. “I don’t think I could handle the constant dreary and rainy summers.”

Philippe, your brother, joined the conversation. Talking to Charlotte, he said, “You should come to Spain with me and Leonor. The summers there are delightful compared to this.”

You squealed in delight. “I can already picture it, the whole summer full of sunshine and warmth. I simply cannot wait.”

Edward, unaware of your plans for the following season, turned to you with confusion in his eyes. “And since when are you going to Spain?”

“Since every eligible man in London seems to be the devil incarnate,” you said, a light tone to your voice. “I am hoping Madrid might provide some better prospects than what I’ve encountered this year.”

“But why would you go all the way there?” pressed Charlotte, who also had not known that you were planning on leaving and was rather enjoying having her family nearby after living away from them for so many years.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “As I said, I haven’t found anyone suitable. I will have to wait until next year to find someone.”

Your father cleared his throat, leaning against an empty chair in the garden. “Well, if you wanted to marry this season that would be acceptable as well. Some gentlemen are well suited.”

“Well suited?” you said, disbelief clear in your voice. “And who, pray tell, meets your incredibly exacting standards?”

“Colin Bridgerton, for one,” your father said nonchalantly, busy polishing the gun he was holding.

“Colin?” you sputtered, startled by your father’s change of heart. “But Colin isn’t even… he’s not… we’re not…”

“Aren’t you?” replied your father, an eyebrow raised at you.

“I hadn’t even considered it!” you said defensively.

This was only a slight lie. A partial truth, more like. You had certainly considered the possibility (he was an eligible bachelor, and you were a lady of marriable age, how could you not?!), but there was never any real intent behind those thoughts. It was more of a distant concept, so far from reality that it wasn’t even worth thinking about too deeply.

“I hadn’t considered it,” you repeated, although no one had spoken since.

As you watched your father and brothers move away to begin their afternoon shooting, you couldn’t help but feel like an entire world of possibilities had just opened. As you had very unconvincingly told your family, you had never seriously considered Colin Bridgerton as someone you could marry, let alone this season!

And whenever you had had those… thoughts… it was only because you knew that there was no chance you would actually marry him. He was safe. You didn’t have to worry about all the minutiae of whether he would be a good husband because there was simply no reason to. Or at least there hadn’t been until now.

But could you really like him? Could you grow to have feelings for him? You weren’t sure, and you certainly weren’t ready to sit down and think about it. What you had with him now was good, it was comforting. He was your friend, and you wanted nothing more than to continue having him in your life in that capacity.

—

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ayyy-pee · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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