#it may not be perfect but its honest work

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 11

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader

Summary: The Deciever has a question for his Sweet One.

Tags: fluff. Like FLUFF. He may be deranged but he's got a soft spot. Also, told you I was gonna make the Annatar bow angsty.

Notes: the fic is out of order now because I have a lot going on and ITS MY FIC OK OK. Not having to have everything in order has given me so much inspo that within the next 24 hours there could be 2 more parts and 2 other things too soo. I love you all. Thank you for your support. My dms and inbox are always open, also if you wanna give me like a lil tip it would be appreciated.

Halbrand leaned against the archway to the library and watched you as you read through the scrolls and histories. It's how you'd spent your days since coming to Eregion. He worked on the elven rings, and you were here, reading. It was endearing to him that you sought knowledge in such a way. Proof that he had made the right choice in you.

There had to be three. Just as there had to be three rings.

Him with his power and darkness.

Galadriel with her wisdom and light.

You with your goodness and warmth to balance them out.

Three.

Though, he only desired you. Only loved you. You were what he was doing all this for. He had to create a lasting peace. He had to make Middle Earth safe and perfect. He had to overcome this pesky issue of your mortality. He could not allow you to live in a broken world. He would not allow you to come to harm, and, selfishly, perhaps, he could not let you die. The rings were for you. His ambitions and goals revolved around you.

All for you.

At least, that is what he made himself believe. If he was truly honest, he had different motives as well. Motives of power and control. Motives that would have driven him down this path if you'd never met. His deception was so great that he was able to hide that away. He was able to believe the ends justified the means. And if you were what was at the end, there was no depravity he could not justify.

Watching you now, you were breathtaking with your eyes focused and strands of hair falling in your face. You'd taken full advantage of the beautiful wardrobe and styles of the elves. Intricate, delicate strands of silver were braided through your hair. You wore a dress of light blue with more silver, and the delicate chains only served to accentuate your curves. He had thought you were beautiful in the Numenorian garb, but now you looked stunning. Breathtaking. He'd seen the most beautiful of the elves, the Silmarils, the light of creation. Yet you were greater than them all.

“I know you're there,” you spoke, the ghost of a smile playing at your lips, but your eyes never moved from the page.

“And yet you stare only at your books. My heart can not help but break.” He teased. “I will not be shamed for staring at the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”

He smirked at your blush, approaching you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. He noticed that the back half of your hair was pulled up and tied into a bow. He chuckled softly and rested his chin on your shoulder. “What do you read now?”

“A tale of a human and elf falling in love,” you relaxed into his embrace.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, your neck, up to your cheek before turning your head so he could capture your lips in a soft kiss. “Last week, it was the fall of elven cities. This week, it's romance. You never cease to amaze me.”

“You are easily amazed, then.”

“Do not doubt yourself, sweet one.” He pressed a kiss to your nose, turning you around in his arms and lifting you to sit on the edge of the table. “I am in awe of you always, but recently, I'm in awe of these things you do with your hair. A bow?” He teased softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Do you not like it,” The way you looked up at him, seeking his approval, it mirrored the expression you wore when you were on your knees begging for him. His fingers tightened on your hips, restraining from taking you on the table.

“I do. It suits you.” He smiles softly, his eyes softening as he sees your bright smile.

“Perhaps you could grow your hair, and I can do it to you. I've seen elves of all kind wear it,” there was an excitement to your voice as you spoke.

He chuckled, “Perhaps one day, if we are parted, I will wear it as a reminder of you when my heart yearns for you.”

“You jest.”

“I do no such thing. You have plenty of things to remember me by,” his fingers traveled down to the intricate necklace of copper he'd made for you at the forge in Numenor. You always wore it. “I shall have the hair bow.”

You frowned, and his thumb traced the downward turn of your lips, his head tilted in a silent question. “Perhaps if I were to have more coin, I could get you something. Perhaps…”

Your words were muffled as he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hands held your face as he deepened it. It was only when he felt his body react that he pulled away. His nose brushed yours. “You have given me more than enough.”

You smiled up at him, face flushed and lips swollen. His thumb gently caressed your cheeks.

“I don't intend to ever be parted from you,” he whispered softly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “I mean it.”

He pulled away, searching his pockets for a moment before pulling out a ring. It had a silver band and a small blue gem at the center. He knew it was more than a simple band. He knew of the power he placed in it. The materials he snuck from the forge to add to it. It would need to be perfected in time to come, but for now, it would do what he needed it to. It would increase your lifespan, heal your wounds faster, and It created a connection with him, wherever you were.

It also served as a symbol. That you were his. That his feelings for you were real. His intentions were true.

He looked at it for a moment before looking at you. “ In elven culture, it's customary to give your betrothed a silver ring that you wear until marriage. At that time, they were traded for gold bands. I added a bit more. A gem as blue as the waters that brought us together.”

You gasped softly, looking at the ring and then to him.

“It's the custom of your people to ask the family but you have none. The family who warded you is gone as well. I have no one to ask for your hand but you. As such, I felt that I should give you the same proposal in which I would have given your father.”

He stood up straight, one hand on your chin directing you to look at him. “You fill me with a warmth I've never known. I no longer know who I am if not with you. I was lost and astray, without hope or purpose. It was as if the gods themselves put you on my path. You are a beacon of hope, your smile my purpose. There is nothing I would not do for you, no trial I would not face. I love you. I adore you. I have never thought of children until I met you, and now I know I want to make you a mother. I want to make you my wife.”

He brushed away a tear that had fallen from your eyes, “I give you the choice, I would never force anything upon you. Do you want that? Do you want me?” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Fuck, I'm so nervous I can't talk. Just tell me, yes or no? Will you marry me?”

You laughed, nodding your head. He slid the ring onto your finger before lifting you and twirling you around. As he set you down, you looked at the ring on your finger.

“I never thought I'd be betrothed. I never thought I'd choose who I could marry.” You smiled up at him, and it filled him with joy unimaginable.

“I never thought I'd give a woman a romantic speech or truly want to settle down.” He rested his forehead against yours once more. “I'm a changed man thanks to you. Near unrecognizable to that drifter on the raft.”

“That is true. You will be a king soon.” You gasped suddenly as a realization dawned on you. “ I'm going to be a queen. Me? A queen” you laughed softly at the thought.

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “That is true. As soon as my business here is done, we can return to the southlands and be wed, and you can meet all your subjects.”

You wrinkled your nose, “I'm not sure I like the thought of having subjects.”

“Of course you don't, “ he rolled his eyes but didn't stop smiling. “Why don't we go back to our chambers, and I can show you how devoted of a subject I am?”

Your cheeks turned red, and you buried your face in his neck. He placed a kiss on your head, “I'll kneel and worship my queen.”

“Halbrand,” you spoke, pulling back and giving him a look.

“I'll fill you with my warmth.”

"Stop it!” You smacked his arm,causing him to laugh deeply and wrap his arms around you for a tight hug.

[sylvieserene]

✨ A Starry Night ✨

🌟 A Tribute to Kyoichi Shido 🌟

I'm not the biggest Shido fan myself but y'all seem to really like him so I decided to make this edit!

[seagull-scribbles]

Some fresh air

[lilacstro]

Astro Observations pt 2

1.If you have sun conjunct ascendant//sun in 10th house, people might really see who you really are or your real personality maybe visible to people you choose to interact with.

2. People who's sun and mercury match, they more than most of the time, say what they really mean

3. People who have Sag sun/stellium usually have a strong liking for some kind of mainstream media, like kpop? football? bollywood?

4. The sign of your fifth house can influence how you like spending your leisure time. Example:

Capricorn 5th house might like cleaning as a form of relaxing or spending their free time

Leo 5th house might want entertainment or hanging out with a group of friends, social circles

Gemini 5th house might like scrolling the internet or talking about their favourite shows and dramas

Pisces 5th house might like day dreaming or doodling or creative working

Libra 5th house might put make up on just because, or doing a whole self care routine

Taurus 5th house might just lay in bed and sleep? lol maybe cook something or play some instrument if they please.

5. Jupiter is said to expand. People who may have sun conjunct Jupiter may have huge sense of self or awareness of identity, which is really good in a world where people try to tell you who you are. However, this needs to be checked so it does not turn into a huge ego

6. Sagittarius women could really like dancing

7. 8th house stellium could deal with sleep paralysis or insomnia or some kind of mental health related problem at some point in their life for sure

8. 12th house stelliums could really like day dreaming a lot

9. Most Libra people I have met are usually already well liked regardless of anything. and the ones that aren't, really care about being liked by people.

10. Speaking of this, most libra placements, esp suns, may really be gossiped about or do gossips.

11. Sagittarius placements (sun and rising esp) always have something going on with their teeth. Its either crooked, it may have had an injury and even if its perfect, they might be a little insecure about it at least for a brief period in their life

12. Neptune in 7th house could mean the native has kind of like imaginary ideals about their partner. It could also be that they "like the idea of someone more than the person" or straight up like imaginary characters as ideals

13. Sag mercury women usually are very vocal. May advocate for things like unequal rights, feminism, maybe the first one to speak. tbh sag mercuries overall are the types to take part in global challenges and really take time out to think about it seriously.

14. Sun in 8th house is a mysterious placement. Sun in 8th house won't reveal themselves to you. To be fairly honest, growing up their personality goes through a lot of transformation before they finally get to even know themselves and who they are. They could also be very introspective if not self aware

15. while Moon in 8th house natives are usually said that they won't reveal their true emotions, I'd say that's subjective since they are actually "aware" of their feelings on a deep level. This depends on the sign and degree of the moon imo. However, they may instead absolutely illusion you into thinking "you know everything about them" lol. Also, they could eventually get very emotionally intelligent in their lives with time. They may also never fully reveal their past to someone.

16. Moon in 8th house can have two moods. I know this will happen. See this happened. OR I know EXACTLY why this did not happen lol. Very intuitive.

17. Moon in Gemini degrees can indicate being able to verbalize and intellectualize emotions better than most people. While Moon in Aquarius or Capricorn may suggest otherwise.

18. Idk how but most Aquarius people I have seen have either of these two things. Being extremely different than most people (in a good or bad way) in some way or the other, a different thinking than most. OR, being really really good with Internet related stuff, like maybe freelance? Digital Media? Social Media?

19. Venus/Sun/Moon in virgos will get you the small thing you mentioned in a random seemingly unimportant conversation for your birthday gift.

20. A placement that makes me think of "attractive personality" is Venus in harmonious aspects with mercury.

21. Mars in 5th house/1st house are said to be automatically physically active or athletic. While this maybe true, mars or any other planet at a weak degree or Mars in Earth signs may not manifest that way, even though it may seem otherwise.

22. I think mercury in 11th house is an OG placement for over thinkers or the people who are thinking how would it feel to get married while riding the car/train and looking outside, or being constantly in their head the second they woke up.

23. " I am so stupid in love"- Pisces, Cancer placements.

24. Neptune in 3rd/11th house placements could have a social media or chronically online addiction.

25. Sun in 1st house in SR can indicate getting a sense of identity and purpose and moreover finding yourself again

26. Uranus in 12th house in SR can indicate a change/transformation in old belief systems and thoughts

support me on ko-fi :)

Well, I am thinking of making proper dedicated posts now instead of random notes like that. What suggestions do you have? I would loveee to know.

[s0urw00lf]

Accidents happen

Pairing: Neteyam x reader

Summary: You and Neteyam find solace in each other. Maybe a little too much��

Requested by anon

AN: girl i’m so sorry it took me so long to get this out, i was procrastinating. But i hope you like it and maybe ill do a part two???

The night was quiet, and the waves of the ocean were soothing the nerves going haywire in your stomach. As the next in line of tsahik your connection with eywa was deep, even more so than your mothers for a reason unknown to you. You couldn’t help but worry something terrible was coming but you had no idea whatsoever what it was, that’s why you sat at the edge of the village on a rock, dangling your feet into the water. The pit in your stomach was heavy with bad feelings that were unknown to you. The waves softly crashing into the rock was working wonders calming your nerves, this was the most relaxed you’d been in weeks. You were relaxed but still alert, which is why your ears perked up when you heard footsteps coming from behind you.

You discreetly grabbed your knife out of its sheath attached to your hip, and when the footsteps got close enough you whipped around holding your knife menacingly. At the sight of the familiar boy holding up his hands in surrender after letting a ‘woah’ slip out, you lowered your knife. “I apologize I did not mean to scare you” he apologized, after lowering his hands. You let out a sigh in relief, “it is okay, guess i wasn't expecting anyone to be awake at this time” you said, returning back to your seated position on the rock facing the sea. He nodded in understanding, both that you saw though nor did you really care. “May I join you?” He asked, making you turn your head to him. You pondered for a second before nodding and turning your focus back on the horizon.

You two sat in silence before he spoke “what are you doing awake anyway?”. You looked over to him thinking of an answer “I am not sure if i'm honest. Just needed some peace away from the hustle of the clan i guess” you said not really wanting to go into detail. “What about you forest boy” you teased lightly. He smiled at the nickname you and your sister had graced him and his brother with. “It reminds me of home,” he said, gesturing to the line of trees about ten feet away. You nodded, “do you miss it?” You asked in curiosity. “More than anything” he immediately answered. Your expression softened, “I can not imagine it, being torn away from everything I’ve grown to know and having to start all over, that must be so hard” you said in thought, the thought hurts just thinking about it. “I can not show how badly I miss home, I must be the example for my siblings. I have to like it here so they do” he frowned, dropping his head .“My parents would not let me know peace until I achieved every task with ease” you frowned at the thought.

Neteyam tilted his head in wonder “your parents are hard on you?” He asked. You almost let out a laugh “Of course, I am the oldest, I set the example I hold the future of the clan in my hands. And do not even get me started on when my brother disobeys its always my job to watch over him and take the fall though I don’t have to worry about it much with Tsireya.” You said, feeling irritation arise. Turns out Neteyam had the same problem with his father. “I did not know, I have the same issue with my parents and skxawng brother. It is so hard sometimes, being the perfect son. Making sure I’m doing everything right while keeping an eye out for my siblings and not disappointing my parents” he vented.

“Growing up I always looked out to my parents and how amazing they were. They are strong and great leaders and I wanted to be that too, but now looking back I don’t feel as if I am. My parents do not look at me like they do my siblings; like I’m their child. Instead it is as if I am a soldier. I must do everything right, pass every test and look graceful while doing it so I don’t scare off possible mates. And do not mistake me I love my siblings with everything in me but it is so hard, I just wish to freeze time sometimes so I can breathe.” You ranted, somehow finding out that you were not alone in this life made you feel better. Neteyam is not judging you for letting your guard down and wanting to be normal. He’s listening and understanding and that is what you needed at this point in time. You both sat in silence after your admission. He reached over and grabbed your hand and you looked down an your hands and entertained your fingers with his. “I- I have this feeling in my stomach, a bad feeling like something bad is coming.” You let it slip fiddling with his fingers. You didn’t know why he mad you fee so comfortable but you couldn’t complain. Your whole life you’d had up this strong front but he was able to tear it down in a matter of seconds. He lifted his other hand to gently grab your face. Your eyes met his and immediately you saw the softness in his eyes, you also saw how beautiful he was. The glowing dots on his face were beautiful at night. You had never really looked at him before but you were confused on how you couldn’t see how attractive he was. He began to lean in, your breath hitched and your heart rate picked up. “Is this okay” he asked, his breathe fanned over your lips. You nodded and connected your lips.

That night things happened. You were not proud of it, in fact the feeling in your stomach worsened. You and neteyam actively avoided each other, you were terrified for your parents to find out, scared that they would desert the sullys and disown you. You’d been a ball of stress walking around the clan, ‘what would they say? We aren’t even mated’ you wondered. A few days later you found out you were with child after your body had begun to reject your food and your heart practically stopped. You tried to find any way to be away from your family when you ate just so your mother wouldn’t connect the dots. Eyes why? Was this what she was warning you about? Was it meant to be this way?

One day when you were sitting on your ilu at the edge of the reef your siblings had shown up much to your surprise. “Sister, you’re avoiding us” tsireya said worried. You frowned getting defensive “im not, im busy completing my tasks” you lied quickly. Aounung gave you a look as if saying ‘really?’ “I am, okay? I have a lot to complete before the ceremony” you said. Tsireya shook her head “are you okay? Whatever it is you can tell us we wont tell. Even if mom and dad are getting suspicious” she said muttering the last part. At that your walls crumbled, tears filled your eyes and cascaded down your face, “they will hate me, i can’t tell them. You cant tell them” you begged tears still falling downy our face. They both nodded profusely. “I- i am with child” you admitted. Both of their faces mirrored horror, Aonung more angry and Tsireya just complete shock. “What were you thinking, you know mom and dad will-” your brother scolded but you cut him off “will do nothing because you wont tell. Right?” You asked. You both stared each other down and eventually he gave up sending you a nod. “Who?” Tsereya asked, you knew she didn’t want to finish the sentence. You hesitated looking down “neteyam”.

”sister tell me you are joking” tsereya said, her face again filled with horror. “Why would i joke? I was stupid and now i'm paying the price. Hiding it from my family, mom and dad would send them away, the cannot suffer for my stupidity. They can be as disappointed in me as they want, not like it's anything new.” You defended. “Does he know?” Your brother questioned. You shook your head “no”. He scoffed “every word that comes out of your mouth makes me question how we are related.” He said. You squinted your eyes at him in irritation. “What hes saying is maybe you should talk to him. Come up with a plan and go from there. He deserves to know. He is just as responsible as you” tsireya interrupted before an argument could break out. You frowned in thought. If he accepts it you wouldn’t be completely alone if your parents decided to rid themselves of you. You nodded, making your way back to shore to find neteyam not sure how you’d break it to him.

— with neteyam —

his family noticed he’d been acting weird. He started getting irritated easily his fuse was short and no one knew why. “Bro whats your problem” lo’ak asked, getting irritated at Neteyam attitude. “Nothing, lo’ak” he replied shortly, dropping the pile of nets he was told to bring home by an elder. He entered his family’s mauri pod noting that his parents were watching him not so discreetly, something they’d been doing since they noticed his odd behavior. “Did you get the nets?” Jake asked, neteyam wanted to yell or throw something or hit someone. “Over there sir” he said pointing to the entrance to the pod. “Kid i told you to drop it off with my ilu” Jake scolded, neteyam walked over to the nets and grabbed them, his ears pinned back and his tail swished impatiently. He tossed the nets on th ilu waiting at the dock. He re-entered the pod “now its with your ilu like you asked” he said irritation lacing his tone. The pod filled with a thick tension.

Everyone held their breath waiting for Jake to do or say something. Jake stood making his way to neteyam grabbing his arm harshly “Hey! What the hell is your problem boy? Huh?” Jake asked, neteyam could feel the anger radiating from his father and lowered his head in shame. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. Not in front of his siblings. Not in front of his father. He had to keep it together. But he couldn’t keep the tears from pooling in his eyes. He lifted his head to meet his fathers eyes. “No problem sir” he said.

Jake immediately noticed the tears brimming his eyes and his grip loosened. “May i be excused” neteyam asked, his voice didn’t give away the tears in his eyes, but Jake could see the pleading look in his sons eyes. Jake nodded, in shock having not expected to ever see his son on the verge of tears right in front of him. Neteyam quickly took his leave. Kiri and lo’ak followed quickly after him. Jake turned to neytiri still in shock. She looked at him with confusion, she couldn’t see neteyam ace over Jake’s shoulder. “He was on the verge of crying” Jake told her. Her eyebrows raised and the same question filled both of their heads ‘what the hell happened’

Lo’ak and kiri easily found Neteyam sitting with his hands in his head. “What happened” Lo’ak questioned, seriously this time. “And if you say nothing i will throw a rock at your head” kiri kinda but not really joked. Neteyam shook his head his hair swaying with the rhythm of his head. “I messed up” Neteyam admitted. Lo’ak folded his arms “what could you have done that bad” he asked. Neteyam looked up to his sibling who were standing right in front of him. “Y/n an di spent the night together” he said. The silence that followed after Neteyams confession was deafening. Lo’ak and kiri looked at each other with wide eyes, confirming that they both heard right. ‘Did you mate with her?” Lo’ak asked. Neteyam shook his head, the lump in his throat prevented him from speaking. He was terrified, if his parents find out he was sure his dad would skin him and his mom would do nothing to stop it, but eywa help him if your parents find out. His family was at risk of being kicked out all because of him and that guilt ate him alive. “Have you checked on her?” Kiri asked, sitting down beside him. “No, I do not think I can” he said. Kiri sighed disappointed. “You idiot brother of mine, she could be going through worse than you. Man up and go talk to her. We’ll take care of mom and dad for now.” Kiri said. “Yeah go, don't be a wuss” lo’ak joked patting Neteyam’s shoulder. He felt lighter knowing he had his siblings support, so he nodded, standing up and walking away. “He is so dead” Kiri said. “This puts me in the clear for the next 10 years” lo’ak smiled.

— back with you —

you found neteyam way quicker than you would’ve liked, his dark blue skin stuck out in the crowd of teal blue metkayina. You slowly approached him, his back was turned toward you and he looked as if he was looking for something. Or someone. “Neteyam” you called. You saw his tail still and body go rigid. He turned around towards you with wide eyes. “Y/n” he said. You both stared at each other, behind him you saw his siblings peeking from behind a rock. “You told them?” You asked softly. He nodded, “just kiri and lo’ak” he said. You nodded “i think we should talk” you said. Neteyams heart dropped. He was afraid of the possibilities. He nodded, “would you like to go somewhere more private?” he asked. You nodded and the two of you began to walk towards the place you’d met that night.

Once you were there and settled, your heart was racing “i- i do not know what to-“ you cut yourself off with a sob. The fear of the unknown was beginning to get to you. Neteyam grabbed your hands and shh’ed you “Mawey, breathe” he said. You nodded, trying to catch your breath. after a minut or so, your mind was a little clearer, thought you still didn’t know how to break it to him. “I’m with child” you said, it slipped out before you could stop yourself. This time it was neteyam who froze. He hadn’t even thought about this possibility. A child. His world felt as if he stopped spinning. “Neteyam we are only 16 years of age, how can we- we’re not even mated” your mind raced faster than you could talk. You wondered how you had known longer than him and was still the most worried between the two of you, he looked deeply in thought. “Maybe we could still go through with it but in a traditional way” he spoke.

you looked at him in wonder, urging him to continue. ‘We could do the ceremony, I will court you and we will mate before you start to show. When the baby comes it will be ‘early’ but healthy” he explained. You were shocked at how quickly he was able to come up with an efficient plan on such short notice. “That could work, but are you sure you wan-“ “i want nothing more, i mean i never planned on a child this early but we could make it work” he said with full sincerity. You nodded “okay, we can do it, but we should probably speed the process” you said. He agreed, pulling you in for a hug, you relaxed in his arms for the first time in a week. You felt like you could breathe again. Everything was gonna be okay, not to mention your mother secretly liked neteyam, so if he was trying to court you she'd accept it. And your father would just want you to pick someone who could protect you and nobody was more trained for that than neteyam. “We’ll be okay” you said leaning your head into his chest. He answered with a “yes”

[wordsinhaled]

Restaurant owner/chef Charles / Food critic Edwin AU!!!

So, I just thought of this AU and I am so jazzed about it that I need to drop this idea somewhere so it can become a 100k fic I can devour in one sitting asdfhfhfhf

In an ideal world I’d want to offer the floor to someone Desi to run with this idea, or to collab with me on it because I want to do Charles' food and culture and relationship with his mum justice. I’ve only been adjacent to the restaurant business (my family ran a small café for a bit and I worked there, and I have a family member who did culinary school, so).

I just know that this idea has Arrived in my brain and I can’t just let it sit in there unattended, asdjfjfjf

I'm tagging @nix-nihili and @queen-of-hobgobblers 'cause I feel like this will be up your street???

Okay - so Charles and his mum own a small Indian restaurant. It’s a family business and his parents ran it together ("together") before. Charles’ father was incredibly controlling about the menu, their community partners and suppliers, as well as pretty much every other aspect of the business (and their lives, behind the scenes). Now Charles’ father is out of the picture—I'm undecided how this happens, but I just think Charles deserves to live an unfettered life without Mr. Rowland hurting him anymore, tbh.

He gets to rediscover the joy of cooking together with his mum, cooking as freely as he wants and not being held back by his dad's expectations, refreshing the restaurant's menu to feature more authentic versions of the dishes, making connections with new suppliers, redoing the accounting to pay everybody a living wage... Just generally, like, revamping the entire restaurant to be a more joyful place to be that celebrates delicious food and companionship as a form of connection and sharing. Edwin is a food critic who goes to the grand reopening of the restaurant. Edwin likes to write about and document food. He enjoys experiencing a restaurant and its food possibly even more than the tasting of it. He presents like the uptight, exacting sort of food critic restaurants are intimidated by, with his many layers and his bow tie and his posture and his perfect hair, his little notebook and his vintage pocket pen. But inside he just wants to be able to feel some sort of a connection: with the chef through the food (What is the dish trying to tell him?); with the other person at the table—if there is another person, which is so rare.

Family mealtimes for Edwin growing up were distant affairs, overly formal and stilted and coded, minefields for being scrutinized and speaking and acting in only the most acceptable ways; not places to be honest or genuine or to let one's guard down. Certainly not occasions to experience genuine enjoyment. He wants to believe that food, which is so vital to life, and the preparing and the sharing of it, can be different. Positive. Joyous.

Charles gives Edwin a tour of the restaurant when he arrives. Charles is not like a lot of other restaurant owners Edwin has met. He introduces Edwin to his mum and the way he looks at her makes a pang go through Edwin's chest because clearly, they love each other so much, and Edwin may have never had that but just looking at it heals something in him. He's not getting invested, though. (Right?)

Charles' enthusiasm is like, off the charts. He's practically vibrating, to the point where excitement tips over into anxiety, clearly trying to keep it toned down and failing. And Charles is like, "I'm sorry. Just a bit nervous, yeah? I really care about this place. I need it to—I mean. I really want it to do well."

Edwin's heart goes out to him. "Do not worry," he says, softly. "I am not here to hurt you." He doesn't know why he says it but all the tension goes out of Charles, the slightly frantic look goes out of his eyes, and he gives Edwin the brightest smile he thinks he's ever seen. It's a gorgeous smile. Relieved, and carefree, and warm like sunshine.

"D'you want to try some food?" He says it almost conspiratorially, as though this is not Edwin's primary and entire purpose in being here.

Edwin looks around the quiet, empty restaurant. It's cozy and warm with mid-afternoon sunlight streaming in through the windows at the front. Even without any patrons, without the din or bustle of a full dining room, it seems to beckon to foster shared happiness within it. "I was under the impression that I would be partaking of your dinner service this evening," he says delicately, trying to hide that he might actually want nothing better than to never leave here at all, let alone try some food.

"Well, yeah," Charles says, "'course you are. But this is different, innit? Not for the article. Come on, let me cook for you. You look like..." He stops. Perhaps considering if he's about to say too much. His eyes are bright and thoughtful and fixed on Edwin so intently that Edwin doesn't breathe for a moment. "You look like no one's cooked for you in ages." It comes out soft, but firm; as though he knows what he's talking about. Edwin feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

"No one has ever cooked for me," says Edwin matter-of-factly.

He has no idea what it is about Charles that makes him admit something so honest—although it is not entirely accurate. His family had had a personal chef. Technically speaking, all of Edwin's meals had been cooked for him, until much to his parents' chagrin he went off to a student flat, and culinary school, and began to cook them for himself. But he suspects that no one has ever cooked for him, the way Charles Rowland is offering to now. Properly. Like it means something. Like he is trying to say something through it; unspoken words that Edwin has always wanted to hear.

Let me know you. Let me connect with you. Let me take care of you.

Charles' eyes widen. Clearly, he is trying to process Edwin's bleak admission. "Right," he says, after a beat, as his posture gains something determined; his grin bright and charming. "That settles it, then. I know exactly what I'm going to make you."

And before Edwin can say anything else, he's taking Edwin's hand in his and tugging him towards the kitchen.

[skyahri]

So..? |Kakashi Hatake X Civilian! Reader| HC

Summary: Kakashi finally musters up the courage to ask you out.

Warnings: Nothing, really. Pretty tame. Civilian reader.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

You worked in the hospital. It was nothing spectacular; the shifts are long, it can get a bit over crowded, and sometimes you don't even have time for a meal, but it's honest work.

You were decent with medical ninjutsu. You could heal cuts and bruises, but anything more was outside your skill set.

You have your fair share of regulars, Kakashi being one of them.

Sometimes, he's in and out - just there for a few stitches or a mandatory check-up after a long mission. Sometimes it's longer, like after his battle with Itachi or the Kazekage's retrieval.

You scold him every time for being reckless.

"Kakashi, you know what happens when you overuse your sharingan. Can't you at least try to be a bit more careful?"

He always dismisses you, promising that everything he does it put of 100% necessity.

You roll your eyes and fix him up regardless.

Its a lucky thing that you always end up taking care of him, or at least you think it is.

He's actually using his social pull to end up wherever you are. Kakashi Hatake, the copy cat ninja, is very well known and has earned more favors than he could ever cash in.

He remembers the first time he met you - it was several years ago, in this very hospital. He'd been injured during one of his Anbu missions and needed some critical care.

The hospital was swamped that day, and you were new. He could tell by how anxious you were. It was lucky that you had ended up with him, someone who wasn't picky about his treatment and wasn't bothered by nerves.

There was something about you, though he wasn't sure what. Yes, you're pretty, but he's seen lots of pretty girls. Maybe it was the confidence you emitted despite the cluster of the environment. Maybe it was the gentle way you touched him as yo wrapped his arm or the feeling of your chakra on his skin.

Either way, it stuck with him, and all the feelings he felt have only intensified over time.

Which is where we are now.

Eventually, he sees you outside of the hospital. A rare sight, really. He's perfectly healthy, between missions, and not being dragged around by his students for once.

Your last shift of the week just ended. You're carrying home your weekly grocery haul when he spots you and basically demands to carry some most of your bags.

He tries to chat you up, along about work, hobbies... potential partners?

"So what have you been doing outside of work, hm? Interesting... I see. And you do all of this by yourself, or..?"

You laugh, knowing he's fishing for specific information. He already knows you pretty well after seeing him so often at work. Maybe he forgot that fact in his stupor.

However, slick Kakashi thinks he's been all this time, knock it down by 60%.

You may not be a shinobi like him, but you're very well aware of people.

"No, Kakashi, I don't have a boyfriend."

He plays it off. Shoving his hands in his pockets and pretends not to be borderline giddy at this newfound information.

Once you reach your apartment, you have no problem allowing him entry so he can set your groceries down on your counter.

He looks around while you put things away. Everything embodied you perfectly. The plants, the color scheme, the decor. It was perfect.

Once you're finished, he becomes nervous again.

"So..."

"So?" You ask expectantly.

"Would you wanna meet up with me sometime? As a thank you for all you've done for me over the years, of course."

"Of course," you mock him lightly, crinkling your nose.

"I'd love to."

He let's out an animated breath.

"I'll pick you up tonight at 6? We can head to..."

The plans are set. Now, it's just a matter of patience before this long-awaited date.

Although you've been looking forward to this day for so many years, the anxiety is still there, and you're wondering how it'll go and if he likes you.

Little did you know he's having the same thoughts.

What if you didn't like him? What if he just damaged your friendship (could it even be called that considering how confined they had been to the hospital?) and now he's lost someone else because he's stupid?

Only time will tell, so may as well just shove down the nerves and prepare for what could be the beginning of something great.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)

Note: I hope you all enjoy this random idea.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

One hand guides the fabric as the other turns the wheel. Your work is slow but steady, every stitch perfect, every seam precise. Your fare may be modest and your product simple, but its quality cannot be contested. Your labour as yourself is honest and plain.

The noise of the machine is your only company. The one-room shop nestled behind the butcher’s rarely sees a customer through its door. Instead, the orders are sent from the factories, returned with the printed adverts you disperse outside their doors. The writs are sent along with an envelope of pence and shilling and you complete each with equal diligence before sending them back bundled in paper and twine.

The operation isn’t especially fruitful but the profit is enough to subsist. Enough to guarantee your independence; a small apartment just above and a pot of stew to last you through each week. This humble existence is preferable to any marriage you’ve witnessed. 

The letters from your sisters reaffirm your spinster’s fate. You’d rather a hand wheel and a needle than a brood and broken back. A husband seems to provide several jobs at once, you’ll happily settle for one.

As your hands work from memory and your head wanders from tedium, the bell above the door gives a single sharp toll. You ease the wheel to a halt and leave the seam unfinished. You peer up above the black iron machine, reminding yourself to fix your hunch as a client enters. You can’t but wonder if he may have come to the wrong shop.

By his attire, he is a class above the factory women who require gray skirts and simple stays. His waistcoat is embroidered and his jacket is pressed and clean. He is tall, locks part tidily so his curls lay gracefully. His face is fresh-shaven, square jaw with a cleft, and shoulders broad and strong. He does not share the same sinewy gauntness as the labourers with the coal-dusted noses.

He carries a fine leather bag. Another clue to his status. His shoes, another. Polished and without creases.

You stand to greet him, “good afternoon, sir. Might I help you with something?”

His answer is not prompt. He takes in the finished dresses hung by the east wall and turns to examine the rolls of wool and cotton. At last, he returns his attention to you.

“Afternoon,” his deep timbre fills the small space, “you are the dressmaker.”

It isn’t a question, but you answer, “I am.”

He narrows his eyes as he approaches your desk, the sole fixture in the space. From without, the shop is just as bare. The blackened windows offer not insight into the business, its only suggestion the sign hung above the door, though the paint requires a fresh coat.

“And the shop owner?”

“That is me as well, sir,” you assert. The presumption is not uncommon.

“Ah,” he accepts your explanation without comment, “so, you will have sewn this.”

He puts his bag on the desk, nearly knocking your shears from the corner. You try not to flinch as they teeter near the edge and he pulls open the top of the leather bag. He pulls out a swath of grey. You recognise it and he rolls the cuff to show your initials sewn within.

“Sir,” you say precariously, “is there some issue with it? Is it your wife’s dress?”

“Wife? No, no,” he dismisses, feeling the fabric between his fingers, “rather I am in search of the dress’s owner. The initial must belong to them, yes? So you would have a name for the buyer.”

“Mm, no, those are mine,” you point at the letters, “as it is my handiwork.”

“That makes sense,” he frowns in disappointment. “So you wouldn’t know who would wear it?”

You rub your chapped lips together. You find your tongue sliding over them often when you work, turning them raw with the habit. The man’s lips are rosy and smooth, as well-kempt as the rest of him. He is no factory worker’s husband.

“I might… would you take it out?” You ask.

He obliges as you pluck up the metal cylinder from your desk and unfurl the tape measure from within. He shakes out the dress, holding it by the shoulders to reveal salt stains along the skirts and unleashing a dingy smell in the shop. You wiggle your nose at the stench but worse roils in from the butcher’s on hot days.

You take the measure of the sleeves and the waist, then to the hem. You scribble the numbers on a scrap and take that to compare with your ledger. The measurements are in now way defining but might narrow it down. He keeps the dress aloft and you return to him to check the thread along the seams. A few months ago, you changed the thickness as the factory workers complained of splits under the arms.

“Hm, it is a recent purchase,” you assure him and return to the ledge. 

He lowers the dress and approaches. You snap the book closed and turn your face up to consider him once more, “why do you need to know, if it is not your wife?”

“You are very discerning,” he remarks as he folds the dress and drapes it over his bag, “I’m certain then you can surmise the woman who wore this dress did not meet a kind fate.” He tugs up the hem and shows a tear trimmed in scarlet, the colour not obvious from a distance. “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. I’m a detective and I’m trying to identify a poor woman found not far from here. I believe it is in your own interest that I discover her assailant.”

“I cannot say for certain which she is,” you turn over the scrap and re-open the ledger. You write down three names which match the measurements and hold the paper out to him. He takes it, his thick fingertips brushing yours. “Those are the ones which align with the dress.”

“Mm,” he hums as he tucks the paper into his chest pocket, “and your name? I couldn’t make it out on the sign.”

You recite your name flatly, “it isn’t on the sign.”

“It requires new paint,” he admonishes, “I could hardly find you.”

“I am aware,” you reply. “Thank you for noting.”

He’s quiet, “being a detective, however, I did indeed put together the clues.”

Is he making a joke? You cannot tell. He folds up the dress completely and puts it back in the leather bag. The smell persists.

“What are you prices?” He asks abruptly.

“Sir, I sew dresses for factory women, sometimes a few communion pieces, but I’m afraid I don’t do much suit work.”

“My sister requires a dress,” he sniffs, “as simple as it is, I can see your work is fine.”

“I have only wools and cottons,” you counter.

“Do you always turn away business?” He challenges.

“I wasn’t, sir, I’m only clarifying what I currently do. My prices are set for those fabrics,” you explain.

“I will pay for the muslin and velvet,” he waves his hand staunchly, “you will be paid for your labour. Can you sew with more than wool and cotton?”

“I can, sir, but you could find a ready-made dress in a market boutique if the dress is required promptly.”

“I can afford the time and coin,” he insists. “You are not a talented advertiser, are you?”

You’re taken aback by his bluntness. Often, his ilk have that demeanour. It’s why you’d rather the factory workers and the fish sellers’ wives.

“I suppose not,” you agree, “I would need measurements before I begin. You may send the numbers along with the fabric, then. And I would require a style. Perhaps your sister is a purveyor of fashion magazines?”

“I will send a messenger,” he shrugs. “Thank you for your time. I shan't get in your way any longer.”

“Good day, sir.”

“Good day to you,” he takes the bag from your desk and the shears fall to the floor with a clatter.

You skirt around to grab them as he bends and swipes them up first. You recoil as he closes the blades with a snap. He examines them before placing them back on the desk.

“Apologies,” he says, “and miss,” he looks at you, “take to heart what I’ve told you today. Keep away from the allies and perhaps you may consider locking your door.”

“Thank you, sir, your concern is appreciated.”

“Rather you might just keep those close, eh,” he points to the shears and his cheek dimples.

Again, you can’t be certain of his humour. You keep a placid expression, neither smiling nor scowling. He clears his throat and runs his hand down his jacket, gripping the lapel.

“Very well then, I’ll be off.”

He turns on his heel and marches to the door. You stay by the desk as the bell rings with his departure. Once the door closes, you cross the shop. You turn the lock into place, his foreboding lingering with the stale scent of dirty water.

🪡

Despite the unusual visit, your days roll on like a hand on a clock. The thought of the woman’s tragic fate looms like a shadow but fades. You have too much stitching to do to fret over that man and his ominous words. You assume his interest in your work thereafter was wholly feigned as he does not return.

That day, you pass off six parcels to Eustace, the driver who takes them down to the stacks to hand off to the floor bosses who will parse them out to the women they’ve been cut for. You pay him his toll before he climbs back into the seat of his cart, his horse kicking impatiently.

“Excuse me, sir,” another driver clops up along the other side of the street, a narrow squeeze between the slanting buildings. “I’m in search of a dressmaker. I believe the store is tucked behind the butcher’s and…” the man’s voice drifts off as his eyes flit to the meat sellers marquee.

“Right here, good sir,” Eustace responds, “wouldn’t ya know, she’s right here.”

You lift your chin to see past the cart and spy the driver. He removes his cap as his gaze meets yours. Eustache dips his chin as he adjusts his own hat and snaps his old mare into a canter. As you're left alone with the carriage driver, a vehicle rather lofty for a block like this, you fold your hands behind you.

“Sir, you hardly look in need of a work woman’s dress,” you say.

“Miss,” he ties the reins off and jumps down from his seat, “I am sent for you, not a dress.”

“For me?” You echo.

“Mr. Holmes has sent,” he crosses the muck and nearly slips. “He said he made an appointment for a seamstress.”

“An appointment? I wasn’t informed of the time,” you rebuff. “I’ve a shop to run, orders paid for. I can’t simply leave.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Holmes made mention of a fee,” the man feels around his striped coat, “he said a deposit would be needed.”

He takes out a brown envelope and hands it over. You take it, a small weight within. You look at the driver before you pull back the flap and peek inside. A large gold sovereign sits in the corner of the paper; a whole pound. That’s at least three days work.

You hold your breath, trying to maintain some composure. If that’s the deposit, what is he offering for the rest? You slip out the folded paper within, a page torn from a fashion journal. The dress is elegant if not extravagant. You don’t often do off-the-shoulder or ruffles like that but it isn’t beyond your skill.

You fold the flap closed again and lift your chin to face the driver, “I must lock up, you see?”

“Take your time, miss,” he says kindly. “Mr. Holmes isn’t expecting you to hurry.”

“Thank you, sir,” you bow your head and turn away.

You measure your steps along the facade of the butcher’s shop and curl around to the alleyway. You let yourself into your shop and tuck the envelope into your apron pocket. You take your sewing bag from under the desk and shake off the dust. You don’t often have reason to use it.

You open it up and pack away your shears, a measuring tape, pins with a cushion, your notebook, and a few other bits and bobs. Just in case. You grab a role of linen from against the wall. It’s heavy but you can manage.

You take the key from your desk drawer and switch off the overhead light. You lock the door and continue back out to the street. The driver puffs smoke from a pipe as he waits.

“Miss, allow me,” he snuffs out the pipe and puts it in his pocket. He nears and reaches for the roll of linen.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” you say.

“I insist, miss, can’t have a lady doing all that,” he takes it, not forcefully, and you let him.

As he goes to the carriage and opens the door, you give pause. You don’t know if you should be so easily swayed on a gold coin. Mr. Holmes hadn’t been entirely pleasant and you do prefer your simple work. Still, you can hardly turn your nose up at a pound. Not with the summer fizzling to a finale.

You lift your skirts and cross the street to the open carriage, “sir, might I have a name?”

“Gavin,” he answers, “and I have yours. Mr. Holmes made sure of it.”

“Yes, very good,” you say as you approach, another sliver of doubt trickling through. Mr. Holmes claimed to be a detective but is that really the reason he was strolling around with a dead woman’s dress? You gulp and look at Gavin then the carriage, “might I keep the window open?”

“Surely you can,” he agrees amiably. “Mr. Holmes lives quite a ways, shouldn’t mind the air. I’ll be certain to stay away from the stacks.”

“Thank you, sir,” you accept his proffered hand and he helps you up into the carriage. 

You settle on the bench as the door shuts and you open the window from within. You lean back, your hand grasping the top of your bag. You unclasp it as you feel Gavin climb up on the driver’s seat. You dip your hand inside and clutch your long shears.

You don’t forget all of what Mr. Holmes said.

[hrhmimieucliffe]

NSFW Alphabet with Doctor Zayne - ❄️

Minors DNI (Obviously)

Wanted to do this because I've never done an NSFW Alphabet before. Hope my fellow Zayne stans see my vision and agree with me though.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after the act) - Very affectionate and attentive. He would clean you up, help you relax, maybe even give you a massage if he went too hard. 🤫

B = Body part (favourite body part their own or their lovers) - He couldn't just choose one spot. He loves to kiss the palms of your hands when you touch and grab at his face whilst he's thrusting into you slowly and deeply. He loves to place gentle and loving kisses on your neck. He loves to run his hands all over your body, specifically your torso, grabbing fistfuls of your breast gently.

C = Cum (anything that has to do with it) - He doesn't really like the mess, so he'll be sure to clean it up as soon as possible. He'll also advise you to use the toilet, as that's what you're supposed to do after sex, then maybe you can have a shower... maybe he'd join you.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory) - He may act indifferent, but he secretly loves watching you walk and strut around in lingerie when you're in the bedroom. He slowly strips it off you with care, as he doesn't want to ruin it of course. He loves to see you in it, and treats it with care. His favourite part is definitely slowly taking it off you and revealing every inch of your perfect body. He definitely also loves it when you tease him in different ways.

E = Experience (do they know what they’re doing) - Come on now...🧍🏾‍♀️Though it isn't his area of expertise, I'd say as a Doctor in general, he might know a thing or two about stimulation. Even if he isn't experienced. 🤫

F = Favorite position - (Idk many positions so I'll just go by something I do know though I don't know the name of it 😭) I think Zayne would like an intimate position, such as a spooning position. I think him having you safe and secure in his arms, in a position where he can watch your facial expressions change, as seeing your different pleasured expressions gets him off. He likes to be close to you.

G = Getting Off (What gets them off?) - I think Zayne is the kind of man that could sit down and watch you intently as you give him a little show. A lapdance, a strip tease, anything like that. But even moreso, I think he would love it when you possibly take charge every once in a while. He secretly likes it when you make him ask nicely for you to let him finish🤫

H = Hair (grooming habits) - He is definitely well-groomed, no doubt about it.

I = Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty) - Definitely romantic. He likes to make love. Slow, sensual, passionate, intimate, and gentle. He is a gentle dom in my opinion, but he doesn't mind you being on top every once in a while. He could indulge in something rougher if you ask, but I don't really think he'd put his all into it - afraid of hurting you of course.

J = Jack off (do they masturbate and how often) - I think he wouldn't do it often, as he's way too busy with work. But perhaps on a day off he'll get pent up and decide to rub one out. I'm sure he'd be thinking of you when he does 🤫

K = Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual) - I don't think he has many kinks to be honest. Perhaps brat tamer, or primal (hunter). No daddy or master kink over here 🤫 Maybe he secretly likes to see you all tied up for him, though as long as its not hurting too much. I think perhaps he could have a size difference kink. After all, he'd love watching and witnessing how well you take him every time. Definitely a gentle dom.

L = Location (where they like to get it on) - He definitely would prefer if its not in public. He likes to be somewhere private where its just the two of you. Where no one can disturb you. Your body is his temple and he wants to be the only one to see it. It goes both ways, though.

M = Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons) - When you push him onto the bed and straddle him, 100%. When you visit him whilst he's working just to tease him and he has to resist the urge to give in. When you "accidentally" drop something and bend over. When you grind into him as you sit on top of him. When you slowly slide and drag your hands under his clothes, caressing that sculpted body of his, circling his nipple with your finger. It drives him insane. When you wear his favourite outfit just to rile him up.

N = No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do) - Hair pulling (at least too hard), Spanking (Again, not too hard if he DOES do it), anything too kinky in general or like proper BDSM.

O = Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are) - He definitely loves to receive. He loves to sit back and watch you as you take him into your throat. He'll let out small soft grunts and groans every now and then, but he'd obviously be holding back. Maybe he'll whisper a few praises and stroke your hair. But, he also thinks it's better to give than recieve. Watching your face contort in pleasure, gripping at the sheets, arching your back, your body trembling, those adorable moans, the way you whisper his name. He'd be making sure your needs come before his. You're his favourite patient, and a good Doctor takes GOOD care of his patients needs before his own. 🤫

P = Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed) - Definitely nice and slow, but he'd pick up the pace the faster he gets to bursting and maybe be a little rough if you asked him to be.

Q = Quickie - I think quickies would be beneficial depending on when. Like you could tease him in the morning before he has to go work and he'd have no choice but to give in and take care of you when you beg him to and give him those big doe eyes. Maybe if it's late and you're in the office, he'd relieve some quick stress with you. Maybe he'd even let you suck him off under his desk whilst he's working (after you got him riled up on purpose, of course)

R = Risk (do they like to try new things) - I think he'd be open to new things, but mostly depending on how you feel about them.

S = Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts) - Maximum 3 rounds, just because he's a workaholic, and so he couldn't go for too long as he'd need to get his rest in for work the next day. But he always makes it up to you. When he has a day off, he'd go as much as you want him to.

T = Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers) - I think he wouldn't mind using one on you. His favourite would definitely be a remote controlled vibrator that he can activate at any time. You'd better hope you're not out hunting wanderers or with another person when he gets bored in his office and decides to activate it for fun.

U = Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves) - Oh, I think he wouldn't definitely be the type to make you whine and beg, edging you and watching you come apart as you plead for him to let you cum when he's two or three fingers deep inside you. Maybe he won't give in and you'll have to keep begging. Maybe he'll hold you still so that you don't seek any other stimulation to finish yourself off.

V = Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk) - Always low. Quiet. Hushed. Whispered. He won't moan too loudly, he'd probably hold it back or release it in an almost agonised growl and grunt. He likes to praise you, whether you're receiving or giving the pleasure. He would probably check on you whilst he was doing it to you to make sure he's not too rough or anything.

W = Wild card (random sincannon of any sort) - I think he'd definitely use his evol during sex at least one time 🤫 When it gets too hot, I'm sure a little ice would definitely help👩🏾‍🦯

X = X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants) - Girl...😏😩 he is packing of course. A good 5-6 inches.

Y = Yearning (sexdrive level) - It's not always high, but it certainly is when you tease him. Sometimes it'll go up just looking at you, or thinking about you.

Z = Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after) - He'll only sleep once he knows you're okay and all your needs have been taken care of. He'll watch you fall asleep in his arms.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Am I right or no, girlies?

(If you saw any spelling mistakes, no you didn't)

[little-writers-posts]

Something More Between Us (The Milkman x GN Reader)

Author's Note: A short draft that was playing in my mind because of the milkman on TikTok. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 781

The clock marked 9 p.m., marking the end of my shift as a doorman at the apartment complex where I live. I stretched out on the chair and sighed. At the same time, the other doorman comes through the door to take my place and start his shift.

“Hey, (Y/N), how was your day?” he asked as he started to unpack his things.

“A little tiring, to be honest. Had four residents, plus two without an entry request, and caught six doppelgangers, some more violent than others, but it comes with the job, I suppose.” I said as I packed my things.

“I’m lucky to be on the night shift” he smiled. “I only have three tenants on the list, and according to the DDD all the tenants are in the building except for those.”

“Don’t be careless. Our lives are at stake here.” I warned. “But, you’re right, you’re lucky.” I smiled.

I quickly scanned his list for the night and my heart skipped a beat. Francis name was there, I assume he left for his job as a milkman and, if I remember correctly from my night shifts, he was one of the first to arrive. 

When I started working as a doorman as well as living at the building, one of the perks was to get to know the people who lived in the same space. I always thought that Francis was good-looking, even with those tired eyes. However, even if we do chat a bit at the door or on the occasional bump in the corridors, we never really moved past that. He is a very reserved person and prefers to keep things private, I get that, plus he never seamed that interested in me.

As I was lost in thought, I heard two voices in the entrance lobby and realised my colleague was gathering all the folders to check the information.

“Mmm… Hello” I heard Francis say through the door.

“Good evening mister Mosses” greeted the doorman. “Let’s see…”

I resume my packing, picking up some final things left and reaching for the keys to my apartment.

“All good! You may go.”

“Perfect.”

The second voice reached for the window, “Good evening.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Looking good as always Mr. Gauss”

Once I had everything I left for my own apartment. When I reach the elevator, I saw that Francis was holding the door.

“Oh, thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, “Izaack is also coming so I thought I might wait for both.”

I joined in and backed up against the wall, standing next to him.

“Our prettiest doorman is joining us today, its always a pleasure walking with you” Izaack mentioned as the door shuts, “Did you think about my proposal?”

I sighed for what seems like the thousandth time today. “I am not interested in going on a date with you, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N).” He insisted. “It’s going to be fun, I promise. And I’m not just talking about dinner, you know?”

He stepped closer to me. Suddenly, I felt slightly trapped in that elevator. I tried to move further back, but I was already up against the wall. Isaack started to raise his hand to grab me by the chin and possibly bring me even closer to him. However, it didn't come to that. A body came between me and the raised hand.

“Geez, Francis, relax” Isaack chuckled. “I was just messing arround.”

The doors to the elevator opened on the second floor. Isaack was walking out into the corridor, but looked back before the doors closed again.

“You sure can be scary when you’re angry Mosses” He gave that characteristic smile of his. “See you tomorrow.”

The doors closed and Francis moved out of the way.

“Thank you” I whispered to him.

“Hm.” He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, if he ever bothers you again liked that, let me know, ok?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Francis” I said while massaging the back of my neck “He's infuriating, that’s true, and persistent, but I can deal it him.”

The elevator reached the third floor.

“I mean it.” He said while leaving to his apartment. “I… I do worry about you.”

I was about to put the key in the door when I suddenly stopped and looked at him. He stared at me with his tired but expectant eyes.

"I didn't know..." An embarrassed but broad smile appeared on my face "Thank you, Francis, I care about you too, a lot."

He nodded and gave a small smile, turning and heading for his apartment. 

After all, there might be something more between us than I thought.

[justalia]

address the feeling

recently i’ve been thinking about my understandings of the law and i decided to read again some of the stuff i read at the beginning of my journey. i’m glad i did because i now have a deeper understanding of what i thought i understood before, but actually never truly grasped its full meaning.

i have to be honest with you sometimes i still have my moments of anxiety, i still have my mind wondering if i’m doing things right and once in a while i still ask myself if i’m doing enough. shocking right? from my posts you may be thinking that there’s no one that understands the law better than me and you may be thinking “she must have the most perfect self concept i can’t wait to get there”

truth is: we are all humans at the end of the day and we are gonna have our moments, no one is better than anybody and the fact that my posts have helped people fill my heart with joy because i do not think of myself as a teacher, i merely try to share the notes of what i studied for myself and try to write it in a way that can reach anyone easily.

i haven’t felt inspired to post something in a while now, i was just numb cause i thought “there’s nothing else i could possibly share my thoughts on” and i have drafts of posts i have started writing but never finished because i didn’t feel called to do it and i don’t like to force myself to write something.

all my posts come from a burst of inspiration and i write them all at once (or at least i try) seizing the moment in which i feel the most inspired.

this being said what i’m about to address in this post is probably the most important teaching i have come across while reading the source and reading some material again has struck me with inspiration.

————————————————————————

“feeling is the secret.”

what does that mean?

to say that feeling is the secret is to say that feeling is the womb in which all things are born, when felt an idea has to be expressed whether you like it or not, unless you change the feeling and fuse your imagination with its opposite.

you see your physical world has no way of existing if it wasn’t for your imagination, it reflects that and the ideas you believe to be true.

“yeah alia you’ve said that”

i know i know, i have addressed this, these are the basics, but bear with me.

pay attention to what i’ve just said “it reflects the ideas you believe to be true”.

how tiring does that sound? does that mean we have to change our beliefs? does that mean we have to do shadow work and see what ingrained belief we have to dismount?

it doesn’t.

self is what we believe to be true and what gets reflected? self.

inevitably when we start to think about this we think we have to find a magical way to change our beliefs and to trick our mind into believing something new about ourselves or we pretend in hopes to fake it till we make it. we begin this journey prepared to train ourselves, prepared to do dozens of techniques and we fill ourselves with hope.

self is what we believe to be true in this world of imagination, our beliefs get reflected and this is why not every single thing we imagine gets reflected. yes, imagination gets always reflected and it happens instantly, but for that to happen you must believe in the reality of said idea.

what is a belief?

a belief is something, an idea, a concept YOU feel to be true. you is the key word because the sole operant power is you, in your life your world operates according to your assumptions, in your life there is no other creator but imagination, YOUR imagination.

a belief is something you feel to be true because a belief it’s just an idea and it’s powerless until we feel it to be true.

why do we feel it to be true? we decide it is.

you decided that your friend was rude to you because they don’t want to be your friend anymore; you decided that your partner was losing feelings because they were distant one day; you decided you were going to fail the test even if days away because you didn’t feel good enough.

you decided the reason your friend was rude to you was because they didn’t want to be your friend anymore, even if just yesterday they asked you to hang out.

you decided the reason your partner was acting a bit distant today was because they are losing feelings, even if just yesterday they said how much they loved you and bought you flowers.

you decided you were going to fail the test before you even started studying for it because you decided you weren’t smart enough, even if the last test you did went beautifully.

you have been making decisions dismissing the senses your whole life and probably occupying states that do not serve you at all without even realizing it. you have misused your power for so many years it feels too good to be true to finally realize it’s all in your hands.

to decide that your friend was rude because they don’t want to be your friend is just as easy as deciding they just had a bad day and accept that as true.

to decide that your partner is losing feelings because they are acting a bit distant today is just as easy as deciding they just were busy today and accept that as true.

to decide that you’re going to pass the test and that you are smart enough is just as easy to accept as true.

how? how can i accept that as true if reality is showing me the opposite? how can i accept it as true if i failed in the past?

we always disregard appearances, we always disregard and dismiss the senses and accept things as true based on our imagination. there is no outside reality because the true reality is within and as within so without. you accepted it as true and now it is expressing in your life, your mirror is just reflecting what you decided to be true, you had no other proof when you started assuming those negative things about yourself and about others.

think about it! when you first started worrying your partner was losing feelings, did you have proof of it? did you have concrete proof that made you think they wanted to dump you? i think you made an assumption, decided it was true hoped with all your heart it wasn’t, but felt it to be true and soon you were provided with proof and there you go: “just like i thought”.

you decide everything all the damn time!! trust me this is nothing new, the thing is that when it comes to positive things we want to believe to be true we think we need proof, and what is proof? the permission to believe something as true. the 3D never played a part in this, when it came to you assuming negative things about yourself or about others you didn’t think about how it wasn’t true on the outside, did you? when you started feeling insecure in your relationship and worried they would dump you, did you think about how it wasn’t “real” on the outside? did you worry about how the outside was opposite so it couldn’t possibly be true?

no, you didn’t.

you decided it was true, trusted it, dismissed the senses even when completely opposite and soon enough the universe, god, whatever you believe in, provided proof for you.

the power we have is the power of dismissing the senses, the power of deciding what is true or not. and you do that using imagination as your instrument. yes, imagination gets expressed but imagination is not just the silly little scenarios you make up, imagination is your mental activity and what gets expressed is what you believe to be true in imagination.

again when it came to negative stuff you were well aware that the outside was opposite from what you believed to be true but you didn’t care one bit and it still manifested into your life. your lover was distant one day, you assumed they lost feelings, the next day they tell you how much they love you and you assume they are lying, you assume the outside isn’t as true as what you believe to be true inside.

you sustain that feeling, you trust it, and it gets expressed.

you never actually waited to look at your partner and see them telling you they were losing feelings before you assumed they were. you never worried about what the 3D was showing you, you never CARED for it.

when you assume something new about yourself and you imagine yourself to already be the one you wish to be you do so because by imagining you are experiencing it in the true reality. imagining it to be already realized helps because your imagination is a tool, it’s an instrument that makes it easier to trust the new idea you decided to assume about yourself because you actually experienced it.

when you imagine yourself in a new state and you do so by, for example, conjuring up a scene, you do so because you want to experience what you desire. you want to live it, you want to experience it and feel it to be true, that’s what the scenes are for, you visualize a scene that implies your objective realized and you indulge in that peacefully enjoying it.

you don’t have to necessarily visualize scenes, affirm, or do this or that technique. these are just tools, methods you can use to use your imagination in a way that is most comfortable to you. for example i am naturally a visualizer so to get myself in a new state sometimes i find it helpful to conjure up a scene that implies my objective realized and experience it, i enjoy it fully and when i open my eyes i trust the implications of that scene to be true, i just experienced it, who’s gonna tell me i didn’t?

what you need more than anything is to give yourself permission to trust in the reality of imagination, that’s the only thing you need.

yes, you are allowed to believe you are good enough for that job; you are allowed to believe you are safe and secure in relationships; you are allowed to believe anything you want no matter how far fetched it might seem.

you can be so bold with your scenes, or your affirmations. you imagine the most perfect scene or say the most wonderful affirmations but i dare you to be as brave with feeling as you are with your scenes and your words.

i dare you to accept it is true, i dare you to believe it is true because you said it is, and then again i’m not talking about the outside!!! i’m talking about imagination because imagination is the only reality. if it is true in imagination and it is because you can just DECIDE it is, then it’s truth. there’s nothing more to do on your part, you just sustain that state and everything else will take care of itself.

free yourself entirely in your mind and accept as truth whatever you desire to be true about yourself, you can imagine yourself to be confident, smart, beautiful, loved, cared for and you can give yourself permission to accept it to be true inside of imagination and see yourself exactly how you want to see yourself.

stop caring about how it’ll happen or if it will happen or what will happen and just FEEL.

FEEL WHATEVER YOU TRULY WANT TO FEEL.

address the feeling

what do i mean by that?

pay attention to your mental activity for one day and see where your mind wonders naturally, that will tell you your current state.

let’s say you get ugly thoughts, you think you’re not enough and that you are going to fail the test you have in two weeks. pay attention to your mental activity and see how the thoughts FOLLOW the feeling, and not viceversa. first you get the feeling of unworthiness and then you start thinking “i’m not enough i will fail i can’t do this”, there is no inherent truth in those thoughts.

it may be difficult to notice at first but everything starts from a feeling and then the thoughts follow. there is no thought you have to flip because they hold no truth and no power by themselves, they are simply a manifestation of your FEELING.

fearful feeling gives birth to fearful thoughts. anxious feeling gives birth to anxious thoughts. lonely feeling gives birth to thoughts of loneliness. insecure feeling gives birth to insecure thoughts.

the only reason why you believe something to be true is because you FEEL it. there’s no actual truth in those fearful, anxious, insecure thoughts.

YOU FELT FEAR and the fearful thoughts came along and then you started worrying about them manifesting into your life. YOU FELT INSECURE and the thoughts of insecurity and unworthiness came alone and you started feeling bad about yourself and unworthy of your desire.

just as easily as you felt insecure you can feel secure, just as easily as you felt fear you can feel safe.

you create the feeling you desire to feel and you indulge in that, you FEEL it because why would you deny yourself of such experience if you can have it?

why would you deny yourself from experiencing what you want in your own mind? why would you create blockages? why don’t you feel what you want to feel? because you are scared? scared of what? of it not working? working for what?

this is not a method for fuck’s sake. this is not a technique!!! this is how you are living, this is how you have lived and how you’ll always live.

change your feeling, allow yourself to feel what you want to feel and thoughts will naturally come from that, and from thoughts will come actions and from actions will come events. NATURALLY.

there’s no work on your part, meaning that you don’t have to worry about what you need to think or do, you will naturally do that. and this goes for opposite action too: if you’re manifesting to pass all your tests with straight A’s and you go and decide to sit on your ass all day without studying you are still messing with the how! you are pretending you have something IN THE MIRROR when you DON’T! you have it in imagination ONLY. your job is to change self and you don’t change self by pretending or acting as if you have something in the mirror.

your job is to simply FINALLY give yourself permission to actually FEEL.

[skully-drawls]

Muenster Tower/Vampire Tower AU!

Majority of the gang WowzErs.

Vampires, hunters, a witch, wererats, and monsters! Got a whole lot of weirdos to work with!!

Peppino use to be the only vampire in town until a mysterious tower appeared! He runs his pizzaria during the night hours. Gustavo, a wererat, its not the worst but its not the best! He makes due! He runs the pizzaria during the day! Brick meanwhile is a ratwere! He borrows Gustavo's clothes. Noise is a wannabe hunter who runs a TV show called "Midnight Noise" focused on vampire activities. Noisette is a lovely lil witch who tries to make helpful potions of folks! She also, may have, accidentally made a shapeshifting monster... Ah well she loves Bruno! Vigil is an honest to goodness Vampire Hunter! Respected in his community! Pepperman is a scientific abomination made by Pizzahead! Obviously he's still the most perfect ever pepper. And of course Pizzahead, the prince of Pizza Vampire's!!

[agoodroughandtumble]

Do You Think They Know? - Zoro x Reader

Status: Complete (Part 1 of 5) Summary: A culmination of oneshots ascertaining Reader & Zoro's relationship Warning: SWF - following parts may include 18+, Language, implied smut

1.

To say you enjoyed watching Zoro during his daily work out would be an understatement. But you were only human – were you not supposed to notice when the incredibly attractive shirtless swordsman decided to get hot and sweaty right in front of you?

You bit your lip, trying not to stare quite so overtly at the bead of sweat threatening to make its way down his temple. Alright… maybe you were there deliberately for that very reason. A very, slight, small chance. And no way a thought out process and perfect timing. But Zoro was like clockwork. Which, if you were being honest, made your life a lot easier. It was certainly not a coincidence when you had asked Nami if she wanted to join you on deck to sunbathe. Obviously she was aware of your intention but thankfully was willing to play the fool and allow you to indulge in the “surprise” that Zoro just so happened to be half naked and sweaty as you were setting up the sun-loungers.

You cast a quick glance over in her direction but she didn’t seem to be paying attention – face turned towards the sky and enjoying one of the more peaceful moments aboard the Merry. The wind was gently toying with her hair and you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious about how relaxed and confident she looked, seemingly without effort. Whereas you were fighting the urge to fight your shorts for the twentieth time in an attempt to look perfectly casual but also hot as fuck. It was a line you had never managed to toe.

“One of these days I’m just going to lock you two in the hold.” Nami said, leaning up slightly to give you a knowing look.

You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. It was certainly no secret that you had certain … inclinations towards Zoro but Nami wasn’t usually so upfront about her knowledge of it. Although your perverted mind was quite enjoying the idea of being locked in small confinement… Urgh. No. “I’m just sunbathing.” You said, relaxing more into your lounger until a thought popped into your head. You turned towards her, eyebrows furrowed, “Wait – what do you mean?”

Nami rolled her eyes. “Er. The eye fucking. It’s pretty obvious.”

You glared at her. “Yes, I know I am. Has he said anything? Is he … eye fucking?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, lips pressing into the corner of her mouth; giving you a look as if you’d just asked if water was wet. “Yeah, this is a you guys thing.”

You playfully slapped her thigh, “You started this. Least you can do is tell me what to do about it?”

The redhead shrugged, shuffling further into her lounger. “I heard about this cool new thing called “talking”. Maybe try that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate you. Do I look alright?”

A smirk crossed her features. “Just talk to him.”

Taking Nami’s advice you tried to casually walk over to him. He was just finishing with his weights, presumably about to start on press-ups. Of course you hadn’t watched his routines enough times by now to find the perfect time to make an appearance. That would be weird. And slightly stalker-ish. It just so happened that yours and Nami’s conversation had come to a natural conclusion and so the opportunity to speak to Zoro had simply fallen into your lap. So Nami could stop looking at you like that.

“Does being shirtless help build muscle?” You asked, cocking your head.

Zoro rolled his eyes, trying to keep the smirk from his face, “Too distracting for you?”

“You wish.” Arms folded against your chest, you continued. “If I wanted to be distracted by an attractive guy I’d go to the kitchen.”

His face hardened a little. “I’d like to see Curly Brows lift something heavier than his ego.”

“Hmm.” Despite Zoro’s obvious irritation, you couldn’t help but push a little further. Besides, it was far too easy to wind Zoro up as soon as Sanji was involved. Practically an open goal. “Well, he must be doing something right to look like that.”

There was a pause. Then the penny dropped. Zoro let out a frustrated grunt. “Did you come over solely to wind me up?”

“Not solely,” a hint of a smirk swept across your features, “But that’s definitely a positive outcome.”

His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you towards his chest. You stumbled slightly, letting out a giggle until the muscle wall of his chest made you catch your breath. His eyes were entirely focused on yours. You swallowed. “What did you come over here for then?”

Somehow managing to gain your composure you stepped backwards out of his grip. Maintaining eye contact, fuck, it was hard to have any cerebral activity when he looked at you like that. You steadied yourself. Focus. You shot him a smile, “That would be telling.”

*

It might be the way he loomed over you. It might be the way his body appeared – and felt – like a solid wall of muscle. It might be the way your leg oh so naturally draped over his hips – either way, whenever Zoro asked if you wanted to join him for a nap there was not a single atom in your body that could refuse.

He was always sprawled out – work out trousers and either a vest or shirtless allowing you to sink completely into his warmth (and his arms, although you always tried and failed to notice that part). When you had first started napping together it was purely just for a nap after training. Zoro would be unconscious within seconds and you would lie there staring at him willing, needing him to make any sort of move towards you. So you wouldn’t sleep. You would shift away from him as far as possible, back to back, trying to desperately ignore the few agonizing inches separating your feet from his. Desperately hoping that he was feeling the same way, that he would be the first one to fold. And then he would start snoring.

Not exactly the precursor to making bad decisions.

But. Then.

Because he was an arsehole he would wrap his arms around you. He would bury his face into your neck. He would still snore, so still managing to prevent you from sleeping. But he was there. Intertwining limbs – sometimes practically on top of you whilst being completely oblivious to you lying there and wishing he was doing something, anything.

Or at least anything other than snoring so you could sleep too.

It was during one of these “naps” when Zoro essentially had you in a choke hold and all you could think about was how maybe he could have you in a different sort of choke hold when Robin walked into the cabin, opened her mouth to say something and on making eye contact quickly shut the door again. You let out a frustrated sigh and tried to push Zoro off of you. He was a dead weight. You festered in your embarrassment.

[fushic0re]

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑!𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: what it is like to date the choso kamo. 

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: smut. insecurity. anxious attachment style. brief mentions of unhealthy family dynamics and trauma.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃𝐃𝐎𝐍❜𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃! 𝐃𝐍𝐈...minors (18+ only), blank blogs, spam liking without reblogging.

꒰ ͜͡➸ if you enjoyed this story, please give it a reblog! reblogs are writers' bread & butter. thank you! ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა ♡

Choso is most definitely a bassist. His entire personality screams bass player. 

Unlike the guitar, the bass isn’t the first sound to be picked up by your ears. You have to feel the bass. It shakes the very ground you walk on, cementing its sound into every step you take, becoming one with you. 

A good bassline can transform an entire song, giving its melody depth and richness–that’s Choso for you. 

He’s a bit understated, letting the rest of the members of the band take the lead when it comes to the spotlight. His role is to be the solid foundation for their music. 

Choso is the quiet and mysterious one–the personification of tall, dark, and handsome. 

He has an Instagram account only out of obligation and only posts when a song or album releases and when they’re going on tour. 

No one knows shit about Choso, only who his brothers are–the ones who are in the band at least….and Yuuji because Yuuji brags about him all the time. 

He’s fiercely protective over his peace and privacy. He loves music and doesn’t want to bastardize his art by cutting it up and processing it through the machine that is the industry.

That being said, not a single person in the public eye knows about you. They may know that he’s in a relationship, but they won’t know with who. Choso strives to keep you away from the vultures of social media. He guards your peace and privacy with a great honor. 

He is incredibly polite and chivalrous, very pleasant to work with. But if you cross his boundaries, his personality immediately switches. 

He’s not above getting snappy with fans who get too handsy or curious with him. 

Back to his social media; if he’s not promoting their work, he’s telling said parasocial fans to “fuck off”. No one can even hate him for it. 

He’s the big brother, the leader behind the scenes, the one who makes sure everyone has their shit together. As much as he loves that role, it puts a lot of pressure on him. 

That being said, he’s a stoner for sure. This rockstar boyfie has a lot weighing on him. Weed keeps him from becoming too high-strung. Helps with his creative process too since when he’s high, he’s the most honest with himself. 

Very sensitive and emotional, which is unexpected by most. 

Choso feels a lot. He always has. As the eldest of a shit ton of siblings with a shitty father, he had to feel everything for his siblings to shield them from traumatization the best he could. It’s one of the main reasons why he pursued music. Music is practically the only outlet for him to full express his emotions. 

That being said, he’s a little rough around the edges when it comes to vulnerability. 

When he meets you, your relationship is passionate, intense, and fast. 

He pretty much knows he’s in love with you the very moment he meets you. He has met a lot of people and knows how to get a good read on someone’s personality and character–he knew you were it for him. 

That scared him a lot though. He’s never loved someone so much and he doesn’t quite know how to handle it. 

Can be insecure sometimes. Definitely has an anxious attachment style that he is actively working to change, but he’s not a perfect man. He messes up. 

If he’s away on tour for too long, his mind ends up racing with irrational thoughts and worries. Hearing your voice soothes all those thoughts away.

He really doesn’t want to perpetuate the toxic cycles he has been subject to, so just know your man is trying his best.

Loves fashion. His artistic lens isn’t just limited to music. Style is an outlet for expression that Choso holds in high regard. 

Very down to earth. He’s often spotted taking walks and grabbing snacks from local convenience stores at ungodly hours when he can’t sleep, but most fans respect him and don’t take pictures.

Very cutesy. After a long day, he just wants to snuggle up with you and watch Studio Ghibli movies. 

Sex is absolutely raunchy though. Yes, he’s rough around the edges when it comes to verbalizing his vulnerability, but he definitely doesn’t struggle doing so physically. 

With every thrust, that man conveys his love for you…it’s a lot of love. 

If you’re okay with it, and only if you’re okay with it, he’ll get completely carried away. 

He can grip your hips and thighs so tight that he leaves behind little fingertip bruises. He can overstimulate both you and himself whenever he’s lost in you–you’ve blacked out during sex at least once.

Think you can’t squirt? There’s a chance that he can make you.

A vocal lover for sure. His therapist told him not to censor his thoughts and he took that shit very seriously–not a single moan, grunt, growl, whimper, or dirty thought will be held back.

That being said he will do the filthiest things to you, debauched acts that you can’t even say out loud, but as soon as it’s over this little shit will look at you with the softest puppy-like expression and be like “Can we order ramen and watch ‘Ponyo’?” 

There’s a big misconception that Choso doesn’t play a role in songwriting and that the band’s lead singer writes all the songs. 

However, Choso is quite the writer and poet. 

No, Noranso is not in love.

But he’ll let fans think that as he plays with a soft smile on his face. 

© this work belongs to @fushic0re. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost on any other platforms.

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰

pairing(s): kento nanami x fem!reader, sub!nanami x dom!reader

summary: you were here for a mission but, that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun in your wake? It was nothing personal, honest.

word count: 800+

warning(s): reader is mean like sinister six mean, blackmailing, sub nanaminnn, restraints?, cheating, oral f receiving, slapping, orgasm denial, cock stepping, nanami licks your boot?, choking, pet names, sorcerer reader, and language

A/n:—GIFs; @pseudowho & — this is more of a thirst/ jumble of words then a fic

“Hello? Oh yes, good afternoon. How may I help you? Mr Nanami can’t come to the phone right now, im afraid. May I take a message?” The curl of your lips is short of ominous as you stare down at the blonde business man. Your foot bobs up and down with a board expression on your face listening to person over the line. When the sorcerer tries to speak —which comes out as nothing but muffled gibberish due to his dotted tie that was usually in perfect place around his collar was now being used as a gag— you glare at him harshly, applying pressure against the upside of his cock to be smashed onto the floor. It stares at you angrily flashing deep shades of reds and pinks.

“Perfect, goodbye now.” You place the corded phone onto its hook, sighing deeply at the continued protest coming from plush drooling lips. You lean torwards his kneeling figure and for a moment Nanami thinks you’re going to remove the cloth from his mouth. However, in response your closed palm makes contact with his pale cheek. The Impact leaves a biting sting that almost made him gasp at the unexpectedness of it.

“Can’t even follow simple instructions. God, this look is truly pathetic on you” You chuckle lowly, chocolate brown eyes staring back at you with a pure dose of hatred. You rub the bottom of your black pump against the skin of his length —the tip leaking pre onto the floor— and watch the slight shudder of his shoulders.

“You scream and I swear everything you have will be taken.” You wait for a quick moment before snatching the tie from around the blonde’s mouth, he makes quick work of bad mouthing you.

“You insufferable wom-”

“Now Kento, that’s no way to speak to someone making you feel like this.” The stiletto heel of your shoe is pressed to the slit of his sensitive cock and your palm makes a home at the base of his neck, squeezing with a steady pressure. Against his will, Nanami lets out a shaky breath, his body betrays him but he shakes his head all the same.

“No.” He insists

“No?” You muse

“No.”

“That’s rich seeing as you could’ve gotten out of the restraints anytime you wanted. Those ropes were made by a grade four and you’re what? A grade two at least, yeah? No matter how much your mouth says no, your body continues to say something differently. Poor Mrs. Nanami, sitting up in that six figure house waiting for you to come home… yet here you are being a manwhore” Your chuckle rings in his ears, you scent overwhelms his senses. You had him pinned literally and figuratively. God did you always smell this good?

“I mean, all you have to do is tell me to stop. Tell me to stop touching your dick and I’ll walk out that door right now.” You hum fingers wrapped around the base pumping up and down the length slowly. Shaky breaths along with slight grunts plague the air, yet there is no protest. You scoff at the action and drastically change the pace of your wrist making sure to drag it up his length at a rate painful to try and keep from coming to.

“Cmon’ Nanamin, I know you want to come. That’s it pretty boy, just blow your load.” Your thumb swipes over his swollen tip beads of pre spurting out at your every touch. Just as the feeling strengthens and he can feel him self beginning to peak you rip your hand away. The blonde grunts that sounds like a borderline whine, glaring at your figure.

“I know you didn’t think it’d be that easy. You’re a big boy Nanami, you know better than anyone you have to work for what you want.” You lean back in his desk chair placing your heeled boot on his chest, it shocks you how quick he is to comply; hesitantly darting out his tongue to swipe across the leather. You’d snap a picture if you didn’t have the desire to feel his tongue elsewhere.

“That’s adorable. How about you put that tongue to good use” You hum setting both of your legs across his shoulders. The look he has for you is to be described as nothing less other than drunk. The blonde peaks inside your skirt, you thighs bare of any undergarment and he doesn’t try to contain the groan that escapes him inching towards your center.

The office phone rings again.

“Hello? Oh- oh I’m sorry Mr. Nanami has his hands tied…” You grab on hold to the locks of platinum buried from under your tight pencil skirt, struggling to keep your voice steady.

“Can I take a message?”

©2024 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

Little Miss Spoiled!👛🧁

Some Supreme Cutee Princess affirmations bc ur literally a princess!! 💗

🎀 - I am immensely pampered by any and everyone that steps foot into my life because thats just the way it is!!

⭐️ - People hate seeing my have to work because if were being honest it’s my birth right to be spoiled and sheltered !

🧁- Im the Prettiest,cutest,softest,most spoiled princess ever!

🛍️ - Not only do i receive princess treatment from those around me but by myself as well im always treating myself to the cutest and most beautiful gifts ever!!

👛 - Its principal that i receive any and everything that i’ve ever wanted no questions asked , some may say i get on their nerves because i run up phone bills,debit cards etc. but it’s not my fault that i deserve the best in life

🍰 - Theres only One Perfect person its me!!

🫧 - I appreciate everything more with diamonds that’s just my purgative!!