#law tips and information

[salemlunaa]

✰THE “I AM” STATE: do you understand? ✰

let’s clear things up!! a revamped logical, explanation to the void state

a lot of you are “failing” to induce pure consciousness because you don’t understand.

If you feel like you need a routine to shift/tap into the “I AM state”, you don’t properly understand what it is

If you feel like you need a good “mental diet”, you don’t properly understand what it is.

If any doubt has creeped into your mind about the void/“I AM” state, you definitely don’t properly understand what it is.

If you feel like you need a method, you don’t property understand what it is.

If you feel as if you MUST stay still, you don’t properly understand what it is.

And if you compare your story to others, you don’t properly understand what it is.

The void state is a deep mental space where you let go of thoughts, emotions, and any sense of “you” as a person, almost like floating in a blank, quiet space. In this state, your brain shifts to slower frequencies, like theta waves, which are linked to creativity and openness in the subconscious. With the conscious mind quiet, your subconscious is more receptive, so any intentions you set can bypass mental barriers like doubt and self-limiting beliefs. People often reach this state through meditation or deep relaxation, opening a space where you can set intentions that stick. This isn’t magic—it’s a psychological and neurological process that aligns your subconscious with what you want to achieve, making you more likely to act in ways that bring those desires into reality.

So you see, it’s literally just a state where all your intentions can come into fruition without the barriers of the 3d. It’s not some magical thing where your soul lifts to some higher places and a genie grants all your wishes. It’s just pure consciousness.

So you don’t need a routine for something effortless. You don’t need to have a “good void concept” or a “good mental diet” to do a basic ability. You don’t need an elaborate ten step method to induce pure consciousness. You don’t need to be a productive manifestor who has a routine where you repeat the same affirmations till your brain goes numb, where you listen to the same subliminals over and over and over. It’s not something you need to do. Not for something as easy as breathing, not for something that is in your fucking brain. You can have the worst day with the worst thoughts and still induce pure consciousness. Because it’s not something you need to mentally prepare for, it was never and is never that deep. Doubting that just shows you don’t truly understand what you’re dealing with.

Having doubts means you don’t truly understand. why? because it’s not something you get to doubt. It’s not some belief that can be speculated against, some superstition that can be proven wrong or some conspiracy theory that can be debunked. It’s a basic ability, it’s law, something that is law cannot fail, no matter how much you want to convince yourself, it’s just not possible for it to fail. Why wouldn’t you doubt that humans have the ability to breathe, because it’s not that deep, it’s not something that you speculate on or something you get suspicious of, because its nothing, just like the void.

There are people who fell asleep in an apartment and woke up in a penthouse, there are people who went to bed with nothing in their wallet and woke up a billionaire. There are people who went to sleep hating their family, the way they look, where they live and woke up with all of that changed. And why? because they induced a state where their intentions can come to life with out any limitations.

You can do it, and i’m not saying that to be sappy and motivational, im saying that because it’s a fact that it’s a basic thing that you can do.

It’s just pure consciousness, nothing too serious 🤭💋

[honeytonedhottie]

financial literacy⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✍🏽🎀

so i released a poll if you guys would like a post on financial literacy and the results are here. so im gonna share some things that i learned while taking a financial literacy course…💬🎀

WHAT IS FINANCIAL LITERACY ;

financial literacy is handling ur money wisely. the google definition of financial literacy is the ability to understand and apply different financial skills effectively, including personal financial management, budgeting, and saving.

ALL ABOUT BUDGETING ;

when u hear the word "budget" its rly easy to think "omg limiting belief" or think of it in a negative light but a budget is just a plan on how u manage ur money. its not always constrictive and negative like u may or may not think of it to be.

budgeting : keeping track of how much $ ur bringing in and how much ur spending…💬🎀

planning a budget is ez pz. you can use some paper and sparkly pink gel pens to create an adorable budget, or u can download different sheets online and just have your budget digitally. theres a plethora of resources out there so just choose whichever is easier for u.

something else that i learned about during this course was the 50:30:20 rule. its called the 50:30:20 rule because 50% of ur money goes towards ur needs, 30% goes towards wants and 20% goes towards ur savings. and this isnt concrete, its just a good framework and u can adjust to ur own specific needs and goals.

for example if u manifested $4000. ur 50% would be $2000, ur 30% would be $1200 and ur 20% would be $800…💬🎀

HOW DO U KNOW WHAT UR NEEDS/WANTS ARE ;

things like ur rent and groceries are ur needs and things like vacations and going out with ur girls are wants. and to apply the 50:30:20 rule you first have to...

♡ calculate ur needs, wants and savings budget

♡ compare ur expenses to ur budget

the way u do this is to subtract your expenses from your budget. this is your budget balance. if your budget balance is zero or positive, that means you are living within your means and have some extra money. if your budget balance is negative, that means you are spending more than you should and may have a budgeting problem.

let me know if u guys want more content about this cuz i had a lot of fun writing this…💬🎀

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

For most of my adult life I have been comparing myself to my father

Fool

I should have been comparing myself to my father-in-law

[enfinizatics]

dear americans,

as a polish queer woman and human rights activist, i know exactly how you're feeling right now and what to expect from these elections. i lived through the 2015-2023 regime of pis, a right-wing populist party that divided families in the same way trump did. i’ve experienced the rise of fascism in poland, the influence of far-right parties like konfederacja, and their “santa’s little helpers”—ordo iuris, an ultra-conservative catholic organization (banned in many countries, mind you) that helped enforce a near-total abortion ban and runs anti-queer campaigns in public spaces. i supported the black protests in 2016 as a middle schooler when they first tried to ban abortion. as an adult, i actively participated in the 2020 women’s strike, running from police tear gas daily after they finally passed the ban. i supported friends who faced charges.

i’ve lived through intense homophobia in poland as a queer teen and adult. i survived the first pride march in my hometown, where far-right extremists threw stones and glass at us. i endured the anti-queer propaganda spread by the ruling party in state-owned media. i survived the “rainbow night,” poland’s own stonewall moment in summer 2020, when police arrested around 50 queer activists following the arrest of margo, a nonbinary activist. i survived the "lgbt-free zones," the targeted violence, the slurs from strangers on the street, and the protests i held against queerphobia. it was hard as fuck, but i survived.

but just because i survived, it doesn’t mean others did. many women died because of the abortion ban—marta, justyna, izabela, dorota, joanna, maria, and many others who didn’t survive pis’s draconian anti-abortion laws. milo, kacper, michał, zuzia (she was 12), wiktor, and other queer and trans kids and young adults took their own lives because of the relentless queerphobia.

despite all of this, our experience in poland can serve as a guide now. here are some tips for staying safe and how we, polish queers and women, organized under the regime:

safety first, always. if you know someone who’s had an abortion, no you don’t. if you know someone is trans, no you don’t. if you know people who help with safe abortions, no you don’t—at least not until you know it’s 100% safe to share. if you are queer or have had an abortion, only share this with people you trust fully. most importantly, not everyone has to be an activist just because they’re part of a minority. if it feels unsafe to share that you're queer, trans, etc., then don’t. it doesn’t make you any less queer.

use secure, encrypted messaging like signal for conversations on potentially risky topics, such as queerness, abortion, organizing counter-actions, protests—anything that might be used against you.

stay anonymous online. if you want to research or report something without surveillance, do not use regular internet. get a vpn (mullvad is affordable and reliable), download the tor browser (for both onion and standard links), and if you plan to whistleblow, consider using a riseup email account.

organize and build networks. community is everything now. support each other, foster independence, because your government won’t have your back. set up collectives, grassroots movements. create lists of trusted professionals—lawyers, doctors, etc.—who can offer support.

to lawyers and doctors: please consider pro-bono work. this is what got us through poland’s hardest times. your work will be needed now more than ever.

for protests or risky actions: always write a pro-bono lawyer’s number on your arm with a permanent marker.

get to know the anarchist black cross federation and other resources on safety culture: "Starting an anarchist black cross group: A guide"; Still We Rise - A resource pack for transgender and non-gender conforming people in prison; Safe OUTside the system by the Audre Lorde Project;

for safe abortion info or involvement: get familiar with womenhelpwomen.

stay radical, stay strong, stay informed: The Anarchist Library

if i forgot to (or didn't) include something, don't hesitate to reblog this post with other resources.

[shroombros2024]

New Vaping Laws In Australia

New Vaping Laws In Australia: Everything You Need To Know The vaping landscape in Australia has experienced significant changes with the introduction of new regulations starting on 1 July 2024. These changes incorporate a comprehensive framework that governs the importation, local production, distribution, ownership, and advertising of all vaping products. It is crucial to grasp these new…

[anistarrose]

Please don't tune out when you get to the non-partisan section of your ballot this November. First off, where state Supreme Court justices are elected, Republicans are trying their darndest to elect candidates who will destroy reproductive freedom, gut voting rights, and do everything in their power to give "contested" elections to Republicans. Contrast Wisconsin electing a justice in 2023 who helped rule two partisan gerrymanders unconstitutional, versus North Carolina electing a conservative majority in 2022, who upheld a racist voter ID law and a partisan gerrymander that liberal justices had previously struck down both of.

Second, local judicial offices will make infinitely more of an impact on your community than a divided state or federal legislature will. District and circuit courts, especially, are where criminalization of homelessness and poverty play out, and where electing a progressive judge with a commitment to criminal justice reform can make an immediate difference in people's lives.

It's a premier example of buying people time, and doing profound-short-term good, while we work to eventually change the system. You might not think there will be any such progressive justices running in your district, but you won't know unless you do your research. (More on "research" in a moment.)

The candidates you elect to your non-partisan city council will determine whether those laws criminalizing homelessness get passed, how many blank checks the police get to surveil and oppress, and whether lifesaving harm reduction programs, like needle exchanges and even fentanyl test strips, are legal in your municipality. Your non-partisan school board might need your vote to fend off Moms for Liberty candidates and their ilk, who want to ban every book with a queer person or acknowledgement of racism in it.

Of course, this begs the question — if these candidates are non-partisan, and often hyper-local, then how do I research them? There's so much less information and press about them, so how do I make an informed decision?

I'm not an expert, myself. But I do think/hope I have enough tips to consist of a useful conclusion to this post:

Plan ahead. If you vote in person, figure out what's on your ballot before you show up and get jumpscared by names you don't know. Find out what's on your ballot beforehand, and bring notes with you when you vote. Your city website should have a sample ballot, and if they drop the ball, go to Ballotpedia.

Ballotpedia in general, speaking of which. Candidates often answer Ballotpedia's interviews, and if you're lucky, you'll also get all the dirt on who's donating to their campaign.

Check endorsements. Usually candidates are very vocal about these on their websites. If local/state progressive leaders and a couple unions (not counting police unions lol) are endorsing a candidate, then that's not the end of my personal research process per se, but it usually speeds things up.

Check the back of the ballot. That's where non-partisan races usually bleed over to. This is the other reason why notes are helpful, because they can confirm you're not missing anything.

I've seen some misconceptions in the reblogs, so an addendum to my point about bringing notes on the candidates: I strongly suggest making those notes a physical list that you bring polling place with you. Many states do allow phones at the polling place, but several states explicitly don't — Nevada, Maryland, and Texas all ban phones, and that may not be an exhaustive list. There may also be states that allow individual city clerks to set policies.

You should also pause and think before you take a photo of your ballot, because even some states that don't ban phones still ban ballot photographs. But whether it's a photo, or just having your phone in general — in an environment as high-risk for voter suppression as the current one, you don't want even a little bit of ambiguity about your conduct. Physical notes are your friends.

[maxbegone]

The election doesn’t start tomorrow, it ends tomorrow.

If you haven’t already, please make sure you are registered to vote and know where your polling place is (vote.org is a great and easy way to get that information). Additionally, please make sure you have a way to get to your polling place. Uber and Lyft often give free or discounted rides to the polls, and this year the car rental company, Hertz, is allowing free one-day rentals to get to the polls. More information on that here.

EDIT: NAACP has a discount code to use for Lyft, valid for two rides up to $20 ($40 total). Use code: NAACPVOTE24

The following states allow same day registration for general elections, ie: the presidential election:

California

Colorado

Washington DC

Hawaii

Idaho

Illinois

Iowa

Maine

Maryland

Michigan

Minnesota

Montana

Nevada

New Hampshire

New Mexico

Utah

Vermont

Virginia

Washington

Wisconsin

Wyoming

Note: North Dakota does not require formal voter registration, and upon presenting valid identification at a polling place, eligible citizens receive their ballot to vote.

all info here

The following states are required by law to give you time off to vote (between one and three hours):

Alabama

Alaska

Arizona

Arkansas

California

Colorado

Georgia

Illinois

Iowa

Kansas

Kentucky

Maryland

Massachusetts

Minnesota

Missouri

Nebraska

Nevada

New Mexico

New York

Ohio

Oklahoma

South Dakota

Tennessee

Texas

Utah

West Virginia

Wisconsin

Wyoming

*Most states requiring employers to permit voting leave also require that this time is paid. Among the above, the following do not: Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Massachusetts, North Dakota. (info here)

Again, it is your right to vote. If you are in line when the polls close, stay in line. It is your legal right to vote.

If you are turned away at the polls, say the following verbatim: “Give me a provisional ballot with a receipt as required by law.”

If you make a mistake on your ballot, you have the right to ask for a new ballot. Don’t cross anything out, simply ask for a new one.

Poll workers are required to make reasonable accommodations for voters who need, including ballots in other languages or translators.

Canvassing is not allowed at polling places, and no one is allowed to threaten or intimidate voters. You have the right to report anything of the like.

All info taken from here

Some tips:

Don’t wear political merch to the polls.

Don’t engage with anyone about your politics at the polls.

Don’t take phone calls inside your polling place — it can wait, please be respectful.

Research who is running locally and see what their policies are. Additionally, research any local propositions that may be on the ballot. The language on ballots is made to be purposefully confusing, so make sure you read everything carefully in addition to your research.

If you’re able to get up early on Election Day, go right when your polling place opens to beat the line.

REMEMBER: IT IS YOUR RIGHT TO VOTE!

Here are a list of state-by-state voter protection hotlines, as well as hotlines in various other languages:

Please vote tomorrow if you have not already. It’s so important, and choosing not to vote or voting for a third party is a vote for extremist measures. Vote down the ballot, and do not let anyone bully you into voting one certain way.

What we are seeing throughout this election cycle (and the last two election cycles) is entirely abnormal. The bullying we see from a certain side and its supporters is childish and dangerous. They spew false information, make racist remarks, and sexualize and discriminate fellow candidates. No single presidential candidate is completely and wholly good, so criticize accordingly.

Vote with those you love in mind, vote with your safety in mind, and vote for those who will be affected for decades to come. Vote for someone who speaks coherently, not for someone who is, let’s be honest, not cognitively alright — and that is the bare minimum of the issue.

If you have anything to add to this post, please do. If anything is incorrect, please let me know and I will gladly change it.

Vote. Vote. Vote.

[friendlycursedspaceotter]

Pro tip for my disabled and chronically ill friends in college: if you have to put a work order in and it is related any bit at all to your disability, write, very clearly in the "describe what needs to get done" section, "This issue is a health hazard," followed by a description of how the issue relates to your disability/chronic illness.

They are required to put it as a high-priority issue and fix it ASAP. Required BY LAW. Yes, I said it. They are legally required to fix these things, both under OSHA regulations and the ADA.

Play the disability card. I'm begging you. DISABLED IS NOT A BAD WORD. But don't abuse it. This is a fine line here.

Example: I'm heat and noise sensitive. My HVAC unit started breaking down and rattling loudly. That would be an example of a health hazard. A broken light could be a health hazard to someone with vision issues. I can only speak for myself here. But y'all have the right to speak up and advocate to yourself.

Neurodivergent people, this applies to you too. You're one of us (one of us! one of us! one of us!). Don't let the exclusionists gatekeep this information from you.

[batshit-auspol]

I really enjoy this blog so much. Gimme your most favorite batshit auspolitics moment from the 2000s to 2010s. please. i am morbidly curious.

2007: The APEC conference, where all global leaders converge in one city to pretend like they're doing things, is to be held in Sydney, Australia. With the war on terror in full swing, security is at a maximum, and large swathes of the city are placed behind a giant multi-layered steel fence to keep the world leaders far away from the unwashed masses.

Attempting to ward off trouble, organisers of the conference hold a meeting with notorious political comedy prank group "The Chaser", to tell them they are, under absolutely no circumstances getting anywhere near any world leaders, and to not even bother trying.

"The whole perimeter is secure," security forces told them sternly. "The only thing getting through that fence is a motorcade."

24 hours later The Chaser were on their way towards the fence with a motorcade.

Now a few things should have tipped off security guards that this fake Canadian motorcade was not a the real deal. Number one: Canada wasn't at the conference, number two: no country has actually had security running alongside cars since the 60s, and three: most security guards don't carry video cameras with them or passes that read "this is fake".

Nevertheless the ruse was more successful than anyone had anticipated, and The Chaser team were happily waved into the most secure area on planet earth by police, who informed the incognito comedians that "the road is yours."

Reaching the outside of George Bush's hotel, the pranksters now began to worry that they were never going to be stopped by police and decided to get out of the car and walk back to the fence.

While dressed as Osama Bin Laden.

At this point all hell broke loose. Snipers were locked on. Confused police scrambled, and immediately arrested the whole group, only breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the words "Chaser" on the fake security passes.

Bizarrely the police opted to give a full escort to the guy dressed in a suit, and allowed the other man cosplaying as the world's most wanted terrorist to just casually walk out on his own before booking him at the perimeter.

The Chaser team said that while being put in a cell overnight wasn't fun, they were less stressed after police started visiting to ask for photos and signatures.

The prank group were later hauled before the courts and threatened with a massive fine, but the case was eventually dropped after they successfully argued that it's not technically breaking-in if the cops happily wave you into a high security zone.

Needless to say they have changed that law for future APECs.

Making light of the situation, the prank group also returned to the site a few days later dressed as carboard cars, to see just how flimsy a disguise could get past police.

This time at least, they were not let in.

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you

: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  

You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.

"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 

Please cut your tongue off. 

Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 

“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."

“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 

“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 

Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.

Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.

"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"

Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.

"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.

"An intern's birthday."

"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"

"July third."

Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."

“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 

"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."

Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 

"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 

“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 

“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"

Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”

“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  

You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.

“Well?” Nanami prompted. 

"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”

Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."

Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"

"Yes."

“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"

"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.

"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"

"Mr. Nan—"

"You are being scammed." 

Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 

But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.

He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.

Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.

With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”

Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 

You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.

What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.

During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.

Toji never showed up.

You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.

The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 

With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.

The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.

As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.

At least that was free. 

Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 

The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.

A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.

“Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”

“Good night.”

With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 

You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 

You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.

Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!

Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 

He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 

A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."

“Factually speaking, it is white.” 

You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 

“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 

You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.

"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"

Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.

A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 

You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 

Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.

Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.

And you kissed him back just as needy.

If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.

You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.

Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.

Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.

“I'm gonna—”

“I should—”

Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.

“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.

“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”

“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 

“Night-night.” 

Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 

Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—

A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.

"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.

That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.

The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 

The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.

With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 

Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 

As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 

Anxiety surged through you in an instant.

Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?

A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.

It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—

“Good evening.” 

“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.

But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.

You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.

"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.

Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 

“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 

"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.

“Do your parents live here?” 

You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 

“I apologize.” 

"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”

Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 

“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 

“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 

Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 

“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 

Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"

"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."

Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 

“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 

And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.

"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 

“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 

Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.

Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 

"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."

“What?” 

Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."

Oh, my. 

Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 

He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."

At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.

Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.

You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.

As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 

“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 

“Yes, darling?” 

Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”

Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 

“No,” he said. 

You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 

“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."

"Kento—"

"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."

You could explode. 

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 

As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.

Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 

When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 

Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 

The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 

The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 

He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 

“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 

“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 

Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 

“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 

Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.

"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."

All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 

Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."

"What is it?"

Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.

As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.

Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”

"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.

“Y/N.” 

“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 

He surrendered instantly. 

Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 

You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.

At least, you were both Team Cats.

Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.

Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."

Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.

The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.

So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.

"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.

"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 

Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 

You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."

"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."

Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."

“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.

“Come on now.” 

You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.

Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.

He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 

As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 

Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.

“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 

“I own the building.” 

Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.

“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 

“Yes, it seems so.”

Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 

Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 

“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 

“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 

"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"

"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.

But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 

“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 

“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"

"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.

"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"

He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.

"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"

Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 

You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"

Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."

As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.

Oh, God. 

You loved him. 

You loved him so much.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 

“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 

Your breath hitched. “What?” 

“Move in with me.” 

“Kento—”

“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."

Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.

Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.

[cozage]

congrats on 2k!! for the event, I was wondering for option one, with Sanji, zoro Luffy and laws reaction to their s/o covering their face with kisses, leaving lipstick marks?

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law Total word count: 730

Lipstick Stains

Sanji

Oh you already know this man is inches within his life. Nothing gets him so weak in the knees like physical touch and affection. 

He relishes in your kisses during the moment, letting you go on as long as you want. You can never give him too many kisses, really. 

After the fact, any time he passes by a mirror, he stops to admire your love and your handiwork. He just stares at all the marks you left on him for a few minutes, his hands lightly passing over each one. 

Some of the crewmates (Zoro and Usopp) make fun of him, but he just smirks and says “What, boys? Jealous?”

He struggles to wash it off. He’s a very clean person, but he hates to wash his face after you’ve marked it all up. You can very often find light traces of your lipstick still across his face the next day because he scrubbed so gently while bathing. 

Zoro

Whenever you cover his face with kisses, Zoro…tolerates it. He doesn’t love it, but he doesn’t hate it either. 

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror much, so he doesn’t notice the red-stained marks you had left all over his face in the process. 

A few things tipped him off when he went down to dinner, though. Sanji is stifling a laugh at him, which isn’t uncommon. But Robin is also giving him a cheeky grin. Usopp and Luffy are both looking anywhere but at him, trying not to burst into laughter. 

And you…your cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment. He rushes to the bathroom and looks at himself in horror. It took him a minute to realize exactly what was all over his face, and he let out a small string of curses as he grabbed a towel and desperately scrubbed at them. 

He comes back to dinner, his face beet red (from embarrassment and excessive scrubbing), and sits down next to you, pretending like nothing happened. 

After that, he always ALWAYS checks himself in the mirror after you come visit him. 

Luffy

Luffy loves to battle with you on who can give the other person more kisses. Everything is always a game with him. 

He wears your kisses around without even knowing it for a while, until Nami says something about it. 

At her words, he rushes to the mirror and looks, admiring his face and all the proof of your love. He’s kind of jealous that you can mark your kisses so easily. 

That’s when he gets an idea. The next time you two have a kissing war, he offers to put on lipstick as well, that way you can tell for sure who won. 

And that way, you get to see proof of his love too. 

The two of you parade around the ship with your faces covered in shades of red and pink, showing off your new designs and laughing the entire time. 

Law

Law is not a man who enjoys physical touch. But if you’re alone…he’ll allow it. Sometimes, he might even enjoy it. 

Especially if he’s in his study and you come in and curl up in his lap, softly kissing his face to try and get him to come to bed. You can be very persuasive. 

“Go on to bed,” he finally says, shutting his book. “I’m going to get some water and I’ll be in a minute.”

He doesn’t pass by a mirror, or else he would’ve noticed the new addition. Instead, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo see it as he grabs water from the kitchen. 

“Love the new look, Captain!” Shachi teases, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. “You should keep it like that!”

Law reaches up to inspect his cheeks, but he can’t feel anything. He looks at Bepo, confused. 

“It’s kind of…everywhere,” Bepo says, trying his best not to crack a smile. 

Law quickly rushes to a mirror and finds his face covered in lip marks. He races out of the room without another word and back to you. 

“Y/N,” he says, trying not to get angry. “Next time, please inform me when you’ve…redecorated.”

You giggle and pull him into bed, adding another kiss mark to his forehead. Scrubbing it all off can be a problem for tomorrow.

[fastandcarlos]

Baby Ricciardo Incoming : ̗̀➛Daniel Ricciardo

summary: work has always been the focus for daniel, but as he watches you with his niece, he can't help but find himself wondering if he wants work to be his priority for much longer

“Look!” Your niece ran over to you, holding her hand out to show you the seashell that she had found on the beach. 

You placed your book down, holding your hand underneath hers so that you could take a closer look at it. “Wow, that’s beautiful,” you smiled in reply, adding to her enthusiasm as she bounced on the tips of her toes. 

“Can you come and help me find some more Y/N?” She excitedly asked you, trying to take a hold of your hand and pull you along with her. You looked to Daniel who was watching the conversation unfold, nodding his head as you stood up and placed your book back into your bag. 

“Last one to the water is a smelly fish!” You teased, sprinting off down to the shoreline as your niece hurried behind you. You could hear her giggles as she tried to catch up, shouting out how you cheated first. 

Whilst you entertained his niece, Daniel was left with the rest of his family watching the situation unfold. “She’s so good with her,” Daniel’s sister commented. 

His brother-in-law nodded in agreement with her, inviting himself into the conversation. “Do you know how many times she asked this morning whether you guys were coming? She thought we were messing with her but she’s been beyond excited to hang out with Y/N today.” 

“She’s got that spark about her when it comes to kids,” Daniel proudly smiled, watching the two of you as you inspected the beach for more shells. “However much she loves hanging out with Y/N, Y/N loves hanging out with her just as much, it’s about the only time she gets to hang around with a child these days.” 

“Does she not have any on her side of the family?” Daniel’s mum asked him. 

As Daniel’s head shook, there was surprise among the group. “She’s a natural,” his dad commented, “I’m surprised she doesn’t have lots of children in her life with how good of a job she does with them.” He added, watching as Daniel nodded in agreement, unable to hide the smile on his face. 

“She’s been desperate for a niece or nephew on her side of the family, but her siblings don’t seem to be in any rush,” Daniel informed them all, unable to take his eyes away from watching you and his niece play. 

You had the attention of several other family members at the same time too. “Why is it up to her siblings to be the ones to have a baby on her side?” His mum quizzed. 

“Well...” Daniel stuttered, quickly picking up on the hint that his mother was dropping in response to him. 

Luckily for Daniel you were soon disturbed by some shrieks as your niece came sprinting back up the beach with you in tow behind her. 

“We’ve got so many shells!” 

There were smiles all around as your niece scattered the shells around where the blankets had been laid out on the beach. Everyone inspected them closely, sounding a little more excited than they actually were in order to add to the smile that was on your niece’s face. 

“You did such a good job,” Daniel grinned as his niece took a seat beside him, just as you managed to climb back up the bank and rejoin the rest of Daniel’s family. 

“Y/N found my favourite one,” she told him, showing him the large, pink shell that you found buried in a pile of sand. 

“She’s got a good eye for nice looking things,” Daniel teased, feeling your hand hit over the top of his head. Luckily for Daniel, his joke went straight about his niece’s head as she just nodded in agreement with him. 

Once you were seated, you shuffled closer into Daniel’s side. Your niece ran off to show her collection to her parents leaving the two of you sat alone, a short distance between you and the rest of the family. 

Daniel’s arm draped across your shoulders as you sat down, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?” He asked you. 

“What have you done?” You sniggered, “or what do you want from me?” 

“I’ve just been sat admiring you and how beautiful you looked whilst you were playing down there,” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know she always has the best time with you, Nicole was telling me how much she was pestering them to make sure you joined us today.” 

“She’s a great kid, it’s always fun hanging out with her,” you responded, smiling to yourself as you continued to hear her giggles in the background. 

Daniel hummed in agreement with you, although his niece was great, it was your company that really gave her that extra injection of enthusiasm. “She won’t want us to leave tomorrow.” 

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow either,” you admitted, taking Daniel by surprise. “I love Monaco, but this just feels right. I feel like a big kid whenever I’m with your niece.” 

There was a seriousness beside you that you rarely saw in Daniel, listening intently as you spoke. “Everyone here today has said how amazing you are with her, and I couldn’t agree more,” he noted, watching as your smile turned up in response to the compliment that you received from his family. 

“Where’s this coming from Daniel?” You asked, turning around so that you were facing him. There was a glimmer in his eye that you hadn’t seen for quite some time, a brightness that had you wondering what exactly was going through his mind. 

There was a moment of quiet as Daniel composed himself, feeling your eyes watching him closely. “I guess being here, and listening to everyone it’s just got me thinking.” 

“What are you thinking about?” You pushed a little further. 

“Us...I guess...and how our future looks.” 

You didn’t quite know what to say as Daniel spoke, it was a conversation that you and Daniel very rarely had. “How does our future look to you?” You questioned, although you already knew the answer, Daniel’s career was his focus as he told you time and time again. 

“I know I love my job, but it’s not what I’m going to be able to do forever, and we’re not getting any younger,” Daniel admitted, “maybe I’d be a little more open to starting to think about having kids then I have been before.” 

“Really?” You smiled, taken aback, “this is a change of attitude.” 

He could easily put his finger on the reason why his attitude had changed, seeing you with his niece was beyond special to him. You’d always assured Daniel that you’d wait until he was ready but in a sudden change of events it seemed as though Daniel had decided that he didn’t want to wait much longer. And although you disguised it well, it was music to your ears to hear it. 

“You know, there’s no one else I’d ever want to call the mother of my child,” Daniel whispered into your ear, making sure that no one else could hear. 

“And there’s no one else that I’d want to share that journey with either,” you added, pushing yourself further into Daniel’s side. As you got closer, you could hear him giggling away to himself, his smile was wide, his heart was bursting with love. 

As much as he loved the people around him, there was a missing piece to his family that Daniel was starting to crave. “I don’t think my mum would be able to contain herself if we gave her another grandchild either.” 

“I never said anything, but she’s been asking me for months when we’re having a baby,” you informed him, hearing Daniel scoff. 

His eyes rolled at how typical it was of her. “Even after all these years together, I’m sure my mum is still obsessed with you, she loves you more than me sometimes I swear.” 

“I don’t think she’s the only one,” you smirked, admiring the adoring look that Daniel gave you once again. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[honeytonedhottie]

financial literacy continued⋆.ೃ࿔*:･👛💵

so i released a poll if you guys would like a post on financial literacy and the results are here. so im gonna share some things that i learned while taking a financial literacy course…💬🎀

HOW TO SAVE MONEY ;

automatically deposit a certain percentage of ur income into ur savings account so that u dont even have to think about it

to do something more FUN tho, (at least in my opinion) is to make a challenge where u have to save every $10 dollar bill, or $20 dollar bill or whatever. just something to make saving money seem like a game if u wanna have some fun with it.

EMERGANCY FUND ;

most experts will tell u that ur emergency fund should be 3-6 months of ur needed expenses. so calculate ur needed expenses and multiply that by 6 to figure out how much you'd need to have in ur emergency fund.

PAYING YOURSELF FIRST ;

you should always put urself first in every single situation including financially. so to pay urself first simply means to put ur future and needs before anything else. FOR EXAMPLE... let's say u wanna buy an ipad by the end of the year, an ipad is $345.

lets also say that u get paid weekly, so you'd divide $345 by the number of weeks in a year (52) you'd get 6.6. so you'd have to save roughly $6-$6.50 a week which isnt a lot at all. and you'd be getting what u want.

INTEREST AND CREDIT ;

interest is like a reward that the bank gives you for trusting them to look after your money. the more money you have in your account, and the longer you keep it there, the more interest you can earn…💬🎀

so the bank calculates interest as a percentage of the total amount in a bank account. so if the bank pays a 1% interest you'll earn $1 for every $100 in ur bank account over the course of a year. so if u have $500 in ur account you'll get $5. its not a lot, but interest builds on itself.

credit is the ability of the consumer to acquire goods or services prior to payment with the faith that the payment will be made in the future…💬🎀

for example missing payment deadlines can negatively affect ur credit score. why is this important? if u wanna go to college and wanna use student loans, u might not be able to if ur credit history is bad. as ur credit history grows you'll get a credit score. the higher ur score, the better ur credit is.

BUILDING CREDIT ;

get a secured card. a secured credit card is a special type of credit card with a down payment. when you open the card, you will give the credit card company a deposit to hold. it can be as little as $100. the company holds the money for you and gives you a credit card with a line of credit equal to your deposit

sign up for victoria's secret direct paper mailers. you'll get a coupon each month for 1 free panty for every purchase. when u go to the mall, get urself a panty and a sweet treat 🧁 (DO NOT PUT ANYTHING ON THE CARD THAT U CANT IMMEDIATELY PAY OFF)

and then go home and pay ur credit card bill off, and then dont use it again until the next month.

[dollfacefantasy]

ROLE REVERSAL ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs

a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3

kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay

The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.

His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 

But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.

A low whistle leaves his lips.

"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.

A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.

"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."

"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."

That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.

"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.

As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.

"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.

"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."

"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.

As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.

You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 

"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."

The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.

"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."

Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.

"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."

His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.

"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.

"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.

You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.

"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 

You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.

Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.

"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.

"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."

"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.

You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.

"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.

"That's better," you purr.

By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.

You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.

"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."

Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.

Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.

You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.

"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.

"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.

You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.

He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.

"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.

"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.

You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.

Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.

As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.

"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."

"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.

Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.

"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"

[ascendedice]

A general mini-guide to the LOA and the ACTUAL Void State (reposting my post in reddit here cause i felt like it will help alot of ppl!!) Hello, this post is summarizing information that really helped me, I really recommend checking out the posts linked AND researching more on your own. Remember, you can shift even if you don't read this but this post will help you understand more and very likely help you shift.

This is NOT a motivational post, I truly mean it, it really is that easy.

Abbreviations used in this post:

3D - The 3rd dimension, your current reality. The physical plane you experience, that mirrors the 4D based on your assumptions.

4D - The 4th dimension, your imagination. The higher plane where your imagination is, the 3D mirrors is based on your assumptions.

1 - THE VOID STATE.

What is the void state really?

In general, the void state is the state of pure consciousness - only being aware of your 4D, ignoring your 3D.

Awake state - being aware of both your 3D and 4D.

State of pure consciousness (void state) - only aware of your 4D.

Asleep state - aware of neither your 3D or 4D.

This is it. It's not a complicated meditative state, it's not astral projecting, it's just this. State of pure consciousness. You think that's hard? You do it every day! Have you ever been distracted at school/any other place, just staring at a wall and daydreaming. Well congratulations, you were in the void state. You were distracted away from the 3D as if it didn't matter, you were only aware of your 4D. (imagination)

DETAILED POSTS ABOUT THIS: All posts regarding this topic by @b4ddprincess: https://www.tumblr.com/b4ddprincess/760274129118248960/i-am-state-posts-𖤐?source=share The ones you should read: The simple guide on the state of pure consciousness - https://www.tumblr.com/b4ddprincess/761620377460965376/purest-state-of-consciousness-the-simple-yet-full?source=share The in-depth one - https://www.tumblr.com/b4ddprincess/762901660346515456/purest-state-of-consciousness-indepth-guide?source=share A post with some tips in it - https://www.tumblr.com/b4ddprincess/763453170302205952?source=share

2 - THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION

The law of assumption works, when you assume something (believe it's true without proof) and it happens in your 3D. Well, when you desire something, you have to accept that you already have it BECAUSE YOU DO. If you have it in your 4D, then your 3D will copy it as well. It always does.

Remember - think as if, because you do have it. If you have it in your 4D, then you have it in your 3D.

OTHER POSTS ABOUT THIS:

My own post showing how to think as if (kinda self glazing this but still) - https://www.tumblr.com/ascendedice/761688638481465344/stop-treating-your-dr-like-a-fictional-place?source=share A small guide on LOA - https://www.tumblr.com/prettyndpinkk/758375299207593984/guide-on-manifestation-the-loa?source=share (made by @prettyndpinkk)

CONCLUSION

Big thanks to all the bloggers who wrote the posts, they're all really helpful

Thanks for reading and happy shifting!!

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐎𝐑 .

# with trafalgar law.

your captain was nothing if not thorough — and as talented doctor, he offered quite a luscious method to help with your cramps.

⎰ & KINKTOBER. smut (mdni!). period sex. bloodplay. fingering (reader!receiving). blood!tasting (menstrual blood, yes). afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

trafalgar law was a doctor — sadistic, yes; self-taught, of course; but one regardless. his mind was attuned to his crew’s health properties, from allergies, to those who had a lower immunity system; from the divergent blood types to medical-related phobias. bepo hated oral medicine with overly sweet tastes; jean bart, although sizable, could not stand needles. and you had a set of quite awful cramps, enough to leave you bedridden until the week’s ending. it was, without an ounce of doubt, your most prominent issue — the one who bought him the greater worry. it left him wary enough then, yet said coddling had a gradual increase once he engaged in a relationship with you.

law had the interval of your period scheduled; committed to memory. pain medicines were reserved with the purpose of aiding you; thermal bags were both heated and freezed beforehand. he researched herbs with soothing properties and went as far — a proof of his love, he would add — as inquiring the straw-hats’ cook on teas that could, somehow, offer some respite. law had tried on a dozen sets of solutions, which one to no avail, for your ache lingered regardless of the chosen method. it left him with an ever-present bitter taste at the tip of his tongue, as the man was unused to said hopelessness, all but forced to sit back and witness your pain without a decent manner with which to soothe it.

you were not present for breakfast that morning, whereas bepo had a sheet with your shifts and duties, dividing them with shachi. for your pain was too sharp, you were granted a week-worth of rest, unallowed to lift a weight heavier than a plume. ikkaku had then entered the shared kitchen, holding an emptied cup — whose previous contents he presumed to be water — and discarding a plastic, pill bottle of a potent medicine he had prepared, a week prior. ikkaku informed him that you were resting — a bit nauseous, as expected, yet nothing quite worrisome — and though the woman had not read underneath the lines of what you stated, law understood it well enough. you were discarding his lingering aid, willing to withstand the cramps without him, for law grew twice as frustrated every month, and you had noted.

he left the kitchen right thereafter, his mood souring. it was ridiculous; unfathomable. law was a doctor — a surgeon — who had healed life-threatening diseases and wounds, yet failed to soothe the merest cramps; to offer comfort to the one he loved the most. he clicked his tongue, rummaging through the books in his office, convinced that he was but missing something, prideful enough to refuse the perspective of succumbing to a thing such as morphine.

nerves. brain chemicals. it should not have taken him that long to figure that out, but it did — and he was fuming. orgasms increased the blood flow; released endorphins; decreased the levels of cortisol. how could have he forgotten that? law clicked his tongue regardless, filled with clear annoyance at himself as he strived for your shared bedroom with ikkaku, delighted, at last, at the fact neither of you would be bothered, for the crew, too, was well-aware of the intensity of your pain.

he knocked — once, twice. not an answer was received, yet law entered regardless, eyes getting used to the overall darkness of the room, granting him the sight of your figure underneath the bed sheets. he approached you, placing a hand on your forehead; relieved to know you were far from feverish. your knees were pressed to your chest, and he could see slight eye-bags, pointing to a clear lack of sleep due to the pain. you were dozing off, unaware of your surroundings, set for a nap. he felt a pang of guilt as his arms removed you from your solace, holding you bridal-style, the activation of his powers leading you both to his own bedroom.

“law?” you inquired, nuzzling closer, a bit confused at the sudden shift. your voice was rough — pained —, and he caught himself filled with the urge to protect you, yet again.

“did i wake you?” he murmured, landing you on the mattress with certain tenderness.

“no,” you lied, ever more comfortable at the press of the sheets under your sore body.

law hummed, not believing a thing, yet not willing to pester you either. instead, he placed a set of pillows under your hips, caressing your cheek with calculated gentleness.

“i figured something that might help,” law whispered, allowing his hand to travel down your neck.

“i took some pills a while ago,” you meekly pointed out, sighing in relief as his fingers brushed against your collarbone. “and that infusion you made me drink tasted like shit. no offense.”

“none taken,” he reassured, licking his lips as his eyes swallowed the sight of you. “it’s a more pleasant one, if you’re willing.”

you stared at him through a half-opened eye, intrigued despite the context. you wore a thin, silken nightgown, the straps slipping past your shoulders, not much left for the imagination. it gave him a glimpse of your curves; your breasts; the underline of your underwear. law spared a mere glance at his sheets, deciding the incessant brushing of the blood stains right thereafter would be far worth it, so long as he could claim you. his hand hovered over your covered intimacy, applying a natural pressure, however neither forceful nor demanding.

“if you’re willing”, law repeated, and you licked your lips, wincing ever-so-slightly at a sudden, sharp pang. he could see the mental effort required for the production of words, soothing your unspoken worries with a caress of his thumb. law was a doctor; blood did not phase him, rather brought forward certain excitement. he all but wished for you to understand that. “i’m willing.”

“are you sure?” you croaked out, pain so sharp you could barely keep your eyes open.

“let me take care of you,” he pleaded, with half the mind to be ashamed of the desperation in his own tone.

you offered him a curt nod of agreement; limp frame conceding to his guiding touch. law raised the nightgown past your arms, throwing it somewhere in the room. with his knees sunk on the mattress, frame towering over your laid one, he began removing your underwear, shuddering with anticipation at the sight of blood staining your pad. he hummed, regretting the eagerness that led to a lack of proper preparation, for he had neither towels nor medical gloves to contain the flow of your period. yet, his mind could not help but point out a singular thought — did he care enough about the mess to be bothered, when you were in such dire need for relief? indeed, he didn’t.

with particular attention, he discarded the underwear and panties on the ground, allowing your hips to be supported by the pillows, without a single preoccupation regarding the possible blood stains. instead, lithe fingers trailed down towards your intimacy, a pair traveling through your folds; testing the waters. law leaned forward in order to have a proper glimpse of your expressions, yet failing not to have his eyes wander to your hardening nipples. he hummed, index meeting your clit as he drew circular, slow movements on it.

the texture of menstrual blood did not seem so far off that of your pre-cum. perhaps thicker, a bit warmer, with the biggest divergence being the color; nothing else. as a digit busied itself with your swollen bud, law teased your entrance with his pinky, grunting as a clot of blood brushed against the touch.

“talk to me, baby,” he rasped out, eyes tethered to your face as his thumb increased the pace of its ministrations on your clit.

you breathed out meekly, fingers gripping the sheets, nose scrunched as you grew accustomed to the stimulation. the blood made the sliding of his thumb faster; erratic. the lascivious sound of your aroused cunt filling the room. law felt his mouth grow dry at the sight, diving into one of your breasts, swirling, warm tongue on the hardened nipple being the solution he found in order not to lap at your blood instead. your back arched, a drawn-out mewl escaping past your opened lips as he ceased the teasing of your clit, wrist angled in a way that had his index and middle finger sliding inside your entrance with extreme ease.

“faster,” you pleaded, a bit of strength returning to your voice.

law thrusted his fingers, knuckle deep, attempting to reach the deepest inches of your walls. the natural shade of his skin returned mingled with red, the tattooed E and A but a mere memory of black underneath the crimson curtain. it was stickier than the river-stream texture of one’s blood, a stubborn line connecting the middle of his fingers, breaking apart only when they were shoved inside yet again, scissoring your walls with regained fervor. he spared a glance towards your growing blissful expression, grunting at the flutter of ideas that wrapped themselves around his mind, failing to ignore the possibilities as his own blood flushed to his hardening cock.

it smeared the fabric of the pillowcase and trailed down his palm, and law spared a brief ounce of attention to the other, neglected breast, using his free fingers to pinch at your nipple before his lips detached themselves from your chest with a single ‘pop’. he adored your tits — really, could not phantom a week without his mouth sucking bruises on it — but on that particular moment, law wanted to observe the in-and-out of his fingers inside your cunt, to commit the blood-coated digits to memory. the tip of his index abused your g-spot and he all but licked his lips, starved for a taste.

your moans were but an angel’s choir, and law had to fight the urge to let a pathetic whimper of his own escape past his lips, for he was, at last, helping you; being the one to demolish the source of your pain. yet, despite his own previous delay, he could not help but to be a little egotistical, lust clouding his scarce selflessness.

“is it better?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly, eyes dazed; pupils blown.

“y-yes,” you stuttered. “don’t stop, please.”

and though his legs began to ache and his cock ached amidst the coffins of his underwear and jeans, law increased the tempo of his thrusts, adding a third finger at the assurance that your walls were parted enough. you bit the back of your hand, swiftly muffling a shout. law groaned, using the thumb of his other hand to draw circles on your clit, marveling at the speed with which blood invaded the inside of his nail; smeared the poor digit.

“i’m close, baby,” you warned, without a need per say, for he noted the approach of your orgasm through the manner with which you clenched around him; impossibly tighter.

“let go for me,” he encouraged, retreating his fingers to the point of his nails before thrusting them yet again, knuckles bloodied; palm sticky.

your entire figure trembled, legs desperate; back jumping from the mattress. his glance was enraptured by the sight of your cum, white mingled with red, an ever-crescent battle whose stage was the pillow underneath, growing wet and dark at the onslaught of your essences. law removed his fingers, raising them to the light, obsessed with the strings intertwined around them; the state of his nails; the memories of parted clots staining the digits. he was but hypnotized, ignoring the confused calling of his name, the ever-so-grateful words you poured into his ears. instead, law began to drag his bloodied fingers on the flesh of your bare stomach, pupils blown with lust as the shade of you, too, grew smeared.

law wiped his fingers clean, and was swift to insert two of them inside your sensitive entrance. your body the canvas, whereas your cunt was the pallet, sheltering the red dye that would grant him the creation of a masterpiece — one he strived to ruin, for law was far from an accomplished, patient painter. he continued with the drag of his fingers on your flesh, from your ribs to your hip-bones; from your breasts to the spot under your navel. at every brief thrust of his fingers, teasing of your folds, you sucked in a harsh breath, your entire body reacting to the somewhat overstimulation.

when law could not hold himself back any longer — the famished beast gnawing underneath his ribcage — he dived in, tongue wiping the mess he had made. law left long stripes of saliva in its wake at every lick, his mouth sucking newer bruises on certain inches of flesh. the taste was not as metallic as he had expected, not as strong, either. it had a lingering bit of salt amidst the iron, for it was mingled with your cum, and both made for a thicker, stretchier combination on his tongue, an unique texture he had never tasted before. law spared particular attention to your breasts, hungrily lapping at it; collecting every last drop of lingering blood.

he distracted you from the fact that his pants and underwear had slid off from their previous position; that his leaking cock had slapped his stomach before he guided the tip to your abused entrance. when law pushed an inch inside, your eyes widened, hands wrapping around his neck out of instinct.

“can i?” he inquired, pressing his palms against the mattress, one at each side of your head.

“yes,” you breathed out. “please, baby.”

law was careful, a languid shove of his hips stretching your walls until he bottomed out, grunting with his eyes closed. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing into your mouth as he began to move — thrusts with a wild tempo, the incessant chase for his own orgasm. a crown of blood wrapped itself around his tip, his entire girth a shade of bright red; pale pink. law hid his face in the crook of your neck, moaning as your hands slipped under this shirt, nails dragging on the bare skin of his back.

he brushed against your g-spot; thrusted himself deep enough to challenge your cervix. you moaned, pain long-forgotten as his tip all but drooled inside your walls, spreading them open without an ounce of mercy. law’s knees buckled; you began to squeeze his girth as though a ruthless, famished beast, so tight he would not be able to slide as freely, was it not for the present blood.

“cum for me again,” law encouraged, meeting your glance, his voice raw and desperate. “let me—ngh—take your pain, baby. c’mon.”

you whimpered, a broken, mute moan preceding the second tide of your orgasm after a particular harsh set of his thrusts. your expression, contorted in pleasure, had him removing his cock swiftly, pumping it twice before shooting his load on your stomach, mouth agape at the blood that surrounded his shaft; stained his palm. law struggled to collect his breath, shifting in order to sit on the mattress and offer his knees a well-deserved rest, one of his hands meeting your own as he intertwined your fingers together.

after prolonged, tired minutes spent in comfort within the walls of a bedroom that reeked of sex, sweat and blood, your voice echoed.

“i liked this method,” you whispered, and he angled his head to get a glimpse of your face.

“yeah, me too.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : damn this writer’s block got hands!!!! jokes aside, i love freaky law!!!! send more freaky law requests i’m going to get thru this writer’s block 👏 by writing more 👏.