#namo is very tired

[cilil]

Námo: If you keep bothering me I'll have to curse you again.

Fëanor: Ha! Nice try, but you already cursed me!

Námo: You've had one, yes, but what about second doom?

[lamemaster]

Loving the Maelstrom

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Perks of marrying a writer. Nelyafinwe pov.

AN: Istg I get the most random ideas while working out.

Curvo bounced the fussing Tyelpe in his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Maitimo sighed for the what felt like the hundredth time that evening. He glanced across the room at you, your face lit by the flickering firelight. A vicious smirk was etched upon your lips, your eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as you stared into some unseen distance. "She's writing a villainess," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The murmur seemed to quench everyone's curiosity, at least momentarily. Except for Tyelkormo, who perked up at the revelation. "A villainess?" he echoed, his eyes wide with fascination. "Is that why Kano's been playing such… ominous tunes lately?" he asked, directing his question towards a very tired-looking Nelyafinwe.

Before Nelyafinwe could muster a reply, Moryo, ever the impatient one, interjected. "Makalaure, for the love of Illuvatar, can we please have a normal tune?" he pleaded, his voice laced with exasperation

Both you and Kano paused for a fleeting second. Your minds snapped into the present world before grinning widely and Kano launched into another melancholy somber tune. This time, accompanied by your booming evil laughter. 

Such perhaps was the fate of loving a writer. He had known it well as Kano’s brother. A songwriter and musician's angst was familiar to Maitimo. And yours was similar yet, so achingly different.

Where Kano’s music seldom bled into his life, your words lingered in a pervasive presence. The angst of separated lovers, fervor of a brewing war, or the grit of a dwindling hero, you were lost in your worlds even before Maitimo met you. 

And when he did meet you, he also met your worlds. Gay, morose, bleak, grand, your worlds were his now. Your character settled into his thoughts. And sometimes, they carried a part of him or his family. Small fragments of your life that bled into your worlds. 

He liked your never-ending ramblings about a crooked character or exceptionally hard-to-write down plot. And he witnessed your fall into the world who possessed your mind and heart. 

Despite the differences in art, you and Kano were inseparable in the creation of art. His tunes often rang out from your and Maitimo’s home as you scribbled away another tale. While Kano’s music was given a direction of melodies from the stories you wove into the tunes he tinkered around with. 

And this was the rare occasion where both you and his brother were taken by a story so bewitching that from the strums of Kano’s harp to the rouge of your lips- all was tainted with a lingering shade of sinister. 

It had been a week since your robes had been swapped for uncanny dark silken gowns, very much not your usual choice of color, your nails were painted a hue darker almost bloodlike. Even the decor of your study had shifted ambiance similar to that of the Maiar of Namo.

On several occasions, Maitimo had seen you stir your dinner with a smile so venomous that he sniffed his food twice before eating it. 

You donned a gait so seductive that he, almost was tempted to discard the weekly family dinner with his parents. Yet, despite the unease that gnawed at him, Maitimo couldn't deny the jolt of excitement that shot through him when your newly painted nails, tipped with a crimson that seemed to mock innocence, brushed against his arm.

“I just hope sister-in-law and Kano are not going down the Mairon route of life.” Curufin’s words brought Maitimo back to the present. 

The dinner had ended surprisingly well. Kano’s company had perhaps allowed you to shed the world that captivated you these days for a few moments. You were back to your normal self smiling by his side. Helping his mother and brothers set up the dinner table as twins climbed all over Maitimo.

It was only later in the night when his breath shuddered. He gasped as your lips ghosted over his ears. Filthy words spoken without a care of the oddly lonely alley on the way back to your home. Words so daringly sacrilegious that they would have sent a Vanya to the halls of Irmo. 

Maitimo however, was nothing if not immune to the intricacies of your play and definitely not a faint-hearted Vanya. Pulling you closer in his arms, he indulged your little world. Tracing the shape of your lips with his fingers, he kissed you with a wicked smile. 

Nelyafinwe loved every part of you. Even the fucking crazy ones. 

(This one definitely more than the angsty lovers)

[alcoholfreenayeon]

hii! could u write sfw & nsfw namo hcs?

NaMo HCs

SFW HCs

Nayeon once spoiled a show they were watching and Momo got quite upset.

They had been planning on revealing their relationship to the others but ended up being the ones surprised when the other members responded with “we know”.

Pictures, lots of pictures. They just take so many many photos of each other.

Since Momo is good at cooking, Nayeon is always asking or pestering her to make something good to eat.

They love covering trending songs.

Momo is a bit upset at Nayeon because despite them knowing each other for years and literally being in a relationship, Nayeon still doesn’t open up very easily to her.

Nayeon, on the other hand, is able to read Momo like a book and can tell when Momo is feeling down.

They enjoy going on short trips. They tried to go on a week long trip with lots of activities planned but by day 3, both were ready to forget it all and instead just stay in their room and cuddle, eating room service and watching their favorite show.

Nayeon hasn’t told Momo but a big reason why she doesn’t open up much around her is because she generally feels so happy and safe around her that most of her problems just seem too inconsequential and small at the time.

They tease each other constantly.

NSFW HCs

Since they have known each other for so long, it’s not exactly easy for them to appear as sexy for each other but they put in the work to make it happen and when they do��..

Nayeon is always eager to eat Momo out.

Momo loves dirty talk and will often be saying the most while Nayeon works her magic.

Momo’s favorite thing to do is hold Nayeon from behind and finger her till she can’t cum anymore.

When watching movies or shows, Nayeon randomly likes to just push Momo down, get on top of her and make out.

No member wants to be in a room next to either of theirs when they are on tour. They claim it’s excessively loud, disturbing and unnecessary since they need to save their energy for the concert. Momo vehemently denies these claims while Nayeon argues that they vastly exaggerate their complains.

Momo once teased Nayeon that despite her long fingers she doesn’t make good use of them. This not only annoyed Nayeon greatly but also brought out her competitive spirit and decided to show Momo what she can REALLY do.

Hours later, Momo was laying down, mouth open, panting heavily, shivering slightly, completely drenched in sweat and her juices, unable to move or think straight. She couldn’t even remember her own name. All she could do was lay still and focus on breathing because for some reason even that was seeming very difficult, she barely had any energy left and couldn’t even make a sound.

While Nayeon stood triumphantly over her, proud of herself. It was a lot of fun but she felt tired as well after putting in so much.

Riding Momo’s thighs while using her boobs for support was kinda like Nayeon’s hobby.

[pttwice]

fussy little sana who got hurt during dance practice causing her to fully regress and have a meltdown but cg!namo are there to take very good care of their baby

hi anon! sana's just a little baby :(

one more time

|| little!sana, cg!nayeon, cg!momo ||

Sana had been practicing for hours. Each time she looked in the mirror, the way her body moved frustrated her more and more.

She decided to stick around the practice room for a little while longer, determined to get the steps to the chorus right before she went home for the day, but each time she moved, it felt like it was getting worse.

Sana panted as she leaned over, her palms pressed against her upper thighs as she tried to catch her breath. Sweat was dripping down her face and she could feel every muscle in her body telling her to stop, but she couldn't.

She had to get it right.

It had only been a half hour since the rest of the members left, but to Sana, it felt like hours. The steps for the chorus were practically burned into her brain, but her body just wasn't moving the way she needed it to.

"One more time."

She kept telling herself that after each try, but try after try piled up until her body was exhausted.

As Sana looked at herself in the mirror, she saw herself when Twice first debuted. She saw the young girl full of fire and ambition. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up off the floor and stood in the center again.

Taking a deep breath, she started to move. As she watched herself in the mirror, her body started to feel like it was moving how she wanted it to. It was moving in time with the music. This was going to be the last time.

The last step was the most important and just as Sana set her foot down, she fell to the ground, clutching her ankle in pain. It wasn't the worst pain she'd felt in her life, but the pain combined with her exhaustion were just enough to send her over the edge.

Sana couldn't decide whether to hold onto her ankle or curl up into a ball as she felt herself slipping. She didn't want to slip into her little head space, especially not when she needed to take care of her ankle, but everything was too much.

The tears started to fall quickly and soon, she was awkwardly curled in on herself. She wanted to move and try to get help, but her body wouldn't do anything but cry.

So, Sana cried. She cried and held onto herself, her thoughts battering her brain as she failed to calm herself down. Everything was too much and her body was so tired and in so much pain.

After a few minutes, Sana's head cleared just enough that she could crawl across the floor and grab her phone. She clumsily scrolled through her contacts and found Nayeon's name. She called and waited for the oldest to pick up, and when she did, Sana's words were unintelligible.

Thankfully, nearly 10 years as a group was more than enough for Nayeon to be able to tell that Sana wasn't doing well. "Okay. Hey, it's okay. I'll be there with Momo in a second. It'll be okay."

To Sana's luck, Nayeon and Momo were still in the JYP building. They were talking to one of the vocal coaches and Nayeon was able to make up some excuse to get them out of their conversation.

They ran to the practice room and found Sana awkwardly curled up on the floor, her phone abandoned on the couch beside her.

Nayeon quickly knelt down beside Sana and carefully pulled her head into her lap while Momo gently pried her hands off of her ankle.

Sana whined and cried harder, trying to grab her ankle again. "No! Hurt! Sana hurt!"

"It's okay. We've got you sweetie." Nayeon's heart clenched at the sight of her baby in so much pain, but she was glad that they were there now. She gently kissed her baby's forehead and rubbed her back, letting her cry to her heart's content.

Momo left to grab a bag of ice and sat back down by Sana's curled up legs. She carefully untucked the injured leg and pressed the bag of ice to her ankle.

Sana hiccupped and flinched a bit at the cool sensation but soon, it soothed the dull ache. She had only twisted it, but the overstimulating pain in her body was too much to bear.

"You're doing such a good job for us, love bug. You're so brave." Momo spoke quietly as she adjusted the ice pack on Sana's ankle. She soothingly massaged her upper thigh, hoping to relax her baby a little.

They stayed like that until Sana calmed down a little more. She sniffled and rubbed her face against the soft fabric of Nayeon's sweatpants, just wanting to be home and not in pain anymore.

"You practiced so well today, love bug, but it's time to go home now. We can take a nice hot bath and get you all safe and comfy in your jammies."

Nayeon's voice was soothing and with how much pain her body was feeling, it was the perfect thing.

Sana just nodded her agreement and let her mamas pick her up. She normally wasn't one to let them do everything for her, but she felt so little. She just wanted to be held one more time.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi! Requesting Namo x reader please! “are you sure? once i start i don’t think i’m able to stop” and “you feels so good” and spice level: 🔥🔥🔥

"Pleasurable respite"

Pairing: Námo x Fem. Reader (Maia/Second person POV)

Themes: Smut (Lemon)

Warnings: Throne room sex | Kissing | Hickies | Mild dirty talk | Nicknames  | Explicit language | Penetrative Sex | Rough Sex | Cream Pie

Summary: Námo and you find a very pleasant way to spend some time together in the throne room.

Word count: 1.5K

Rating: 🔥🔥🔥 Minors DNI | 18+

Rules and tag form here.

Námo sat upon his throne. Fëa after Fëa came to him, pleading their cases, listening to his judgments, his counsel. They would then depart for the Halls of Awaiting to spend their allotted time in prayer and reflection.

The Vala was weary. He wanted proceedings to be over and done with, and soon. Even he, the Doomsman, needed respite to gather his thoughts and clear his mind. When the last of the fëar finally departed for the halls, he dismissed the others, insisted that he not be disturbed, and called you to him.

"Are you weary, sweet raven?" He inquired, not unkindly. His veil, a confection of sheer gray lace and amethyst beads, fluttered with every breath he took.

"No, my lord, I am not," you replied. You stood by the foot of the throne, awaiting his invitation. Námo called out to you, beckoning you with a curled finger as he did so. Blushing furiously, you gathered your skirts, walking up the polished stone steps to his dark, lofty throne. You dipped into a deep curtsy when you reached him. Námo sighed.

"You know I do not ask for such deference from you, sweet raven." Námo held out his hand, and you took it, flushing when you felt a gentle squeeze. "Why do you persist?"

"You have asked; it is true." You inched closer, pulled by the tug on your hand. "But you are still our lord, and one of the Aratar besides. It is only right that I show you deference."

Námo sighed again but accepted your choice. He did not want to argue. He knew you could be stubborn when you chose to be, and right now, after spending days and weeks and many a turn of the moon judging fëar, he wanted to enjoy the precious moments he had with you.

"Come," he urged, and patted his thigh.

You looked around and licked your lips. "But my lord, the others…"

"Come," he insisted. "Come sit on my lap. The others will not disturb us. I promise."

Your eyes were still on the doors when you made yourself comfortable on his lap. Námo studied you, and the doors closed and sealed themselves shut in the blink of an eye.

"Is that better?" He said, his fingers curling around your hair, "Sweet raven?"

Námo said no one would disturb either of you, and he had the power to make it so. Now, anyone who came upon those closed doors knew those within could not be disturbed unless the matter was grave. You felt more than a little foolish for your fears. "Yes. Much better. How are you, really?"

"Weary," Námo sighed and pushed back his veil, revealing tired inky black eyes. "My duties never end."

You felt for him. "I am sorry."

His hand brushed over your hair, your eyelids, and your cheeks. Námo ran the tips of his fingers over every bump and line. It was a ritual the both of you shared, something you looked forward to whenever you were alone with him. A soft, gentle thumb brushed over your lips. You shivered and sighed when that thumb kept tracing its way around your lips, over and over and over again. Heat slowly gathered in your core when Námo grew more daring, and that thumb slipped into the warmth of your mouth. Unable to help yourself, you gently sucked on it before pulling away.

Námo moaned, the sound low in his throat. He glanced at the locked doors and thought of his orders not to be disturbed. He turned to you, his fana flushing with heat when you looked at him and smiled coyly, your eyes bright with need.

"Perhaps, we could do more?" You looked at him with bashful eyes.

"Are you sure?" His eyes seemed to darken even more. "Once I start, I do not think I will be able to stop."

"Yes," you purred sweetly, squealing when he pulled you even closer. Before you had time to even blink, his lips possessed yours with a kiss that burned you to your core. "I am sure."

His mouth opened over yours, his lips sweet like honey and cloves. The welcomed taste of him washed down your throat when his tongue dipped into the warmth of your mouth, greedy and eager. And his kisses were frantic, full of hunger and longing. It had been so long, so very long, since the two of you had a moment like this. His hands were all over you, grabbing you, delving into your hair, hiking up your dress. They glided up your thighs and tore at your small clothes, leaving you bare and exposed to his touch.

"You look so beautiful," he cooed softly against your ear. "Even more so when you are exposed to me."

"But I am not fully exposed, my lord." You trembled with anticipation when a deft hand glided to the apex of your thighs.

"Not yet," Námo groaned. He trembled when you addressed him with deference, and he shivered even more when he found you already slick and wet. "Wait till we are truly alone. I will rip that dress right off of you."

"But I like this dress, my lord."

"Fuck the dress…. And keep calling me my lord. I insist."

You splayed your hands against his chest when he pressed his thumb against your clit, your breath hitching when his lips possessed yours again. You could not think; you could not even breathe. All you could do was feel. And you felt so much: soft lips crushing yours, a powerful arm holding you flush against him, skilled fingers toying with your clit, a sweet, heady scent filling you with each breath you took. When Námo slipped a finger inside you, raw and unbridled lust coursed through your veins, making your head spin.

"Such a sweet songbird," he grunted when you moaned helplessly and ground against his hand. "Pray how do I get you to sing even more?"

"Perhaps by using something other than your fingers, my lord?" You dared him. Your hands flew to your mouth and you giggled, shocked by your boldness. Námo smiled—a slow, wicked smile— before he took your hands and pulled them away.

"Undress me," he ordered, his voice thick and hoarse. "And we will see."

His next kiss was slow and lazy, his tongue licking at the seams of your mouth before dipping in. You fumbled with his belt, the clasps on his breeches. Still, it didn’t take long to undo them. Námo moaned and cursed under his breath when you slipped your hand beneath his robes and wrapped it around his cock.

"Oh…" He muttered when you stroked his cock. "Oh my stars… oh fuck…"

His weariness and the tediousness of everything vanished, and all he could feel was an unimaginable pleasure shooting up his spine. He slumped into his throne, his mouth half-open in a silent moan. He wanted to stay there and take his time with you. He yearned to prolong this delightful interlude for as long as he could. Alas, he did not have the luxury of time. The others would return soon, and he would have to be ready to take up his duties again.

"Come, sweet raven." Námo took your hands into his and kissed them repeatedly. "We need to hurry."

Hurry. The doors may have been locked, but the others could still return. You guided him inside of you, whimpering helplessly when his cock sheathed itself inside your throbbing cunt.

"You feel so good," he breathed, and grabbed your hips. "So fucking good."

You slipped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. The kiss that followed was long and passionate. The throne room soon filled with the sounds of your moans, of his thighs slapping against yours. Námo eagerly dipped his head, his mouth latching onto the curve of your neck. Your nails dug into his robes when teeth and tongue made dark patches bloom all over your throat.

"Touch me," you whimpered, craving more. "Please, my lord."

He palmed your breast, toying with your nipple through your silks. Skilled fingers pinched and teased, reducing you to a mewling mess.

"When we are in our chambers," he promised, "My lips are going to be all over you, sweet raven."

"I shall hold you to it, my lor… oh my stars…" You cried when Námo thrust deeply, finding that place that gave you pleasure, the kind you had never felt before. He pulled you in for a kiss, one that was violent and bruising.

"Yes, my lord," you moved your hips in tandem with his thrusts, your knees chafing against velvet cushions. "Like that, my lord. Harder. Please go harder. Please."

Námo growled, his thrusts rough and fast. A few moments were all it took before he shuddered violently when his orgasm ripped through him. He held you tight, growing drunk on your cries when you climaxed, grunting deeply when your cunt milked his cock. He refused to let go of you, peppering you with kisses while he spilled his seed inside you.

Clarity came slowly. Námo sighed and slumped into his throne, smiling indulgently when you tucked your head beneath his chin. He wanted to savor that moment of you and him together, before duty called him again.  

tags: @cilil @edensrose @asianbutnotjapanese @fictionfordays

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

Indis looked up. Very few people approached her here, in the foothills of Taniquetil - it was why she had moved here after her husband's death - but there was someone coming.

A Maia was at her gate, and not the river or the meadow she had become accustomed to speaking with, neighbors as they were .

"Lady Indis."

"I am she. Have you come to speak to me about a specific matter?"

"Your scion has been reborn. As you dwell closest to my lord's halls, he is entrusted to your care."

"What? I never even heard any of them died- who is it, where is he?"

The Maia stepped to the side, revealing a wide eyed child who looked almost identical to Nolofinwe. "He is here. Do you accept the charge of his care?"

"Of course, but-"

"I must return to the halls. May the wind bless your paths." The Maia turned on his heel and kept turning, so that rather than see the back of his head he simply vanished.

Indis stared after him for a moment, though it did explain how he had reached her house so suddenly. But there was a child who needed care. "May the stars shine upon us. My name is Indis of the Vanyar, wife of Finwe of the Noldor."

"I know that, Lord Namo's messenger introduced you."

"Perhaps, but I don't recognize you. You must have grown a lot since leaving Tirion." Perhaps the boy was Turgon and Elenwe's child; he was certainly an old enough child to declare themself a boy or a girl regardless of their parents' first guess.

"I'm Arakano."

He could not be her son - there was no reason to believe Nolo dead - there was no reason he would have returned as a child - Indis managed an "Oh?" in reply.

"I don't have a mothername because she hasn't met me yet, but Dad said I fit his name."

"Anaire didn't tell me she had a child younger than Aredhel."

"Dad said she didn't know, and wouldn't have stayed behind if she did. He says a lot of their plans for after the Festival got forgotten, she could have even forgotten they planned a baby."

"I am sure she will be happy to meet you, as I am happy to meet another grandchild of mine."

Arakano nodded. "Is that your house behind you?"

"Yes. It's not a palace, but I like it, and it even has a guestroom. Would you like to come inside?"

Arakano shook his head. "I'm not tired yet, but thank you. Is it always this warm here?"

"It gets a little bit cooler in the winter, but we're too far south to get more than a day or two of frost in the winter."

"Huh. Is that why there are trees here?"

Indis looked out at the meadow that stretched unbroken to the next hill, at the three pear trees that grew by the walk, and the poplar that shaded her garden. "Trees can grow in almost any temperature, depending on the type of tree. Some even grow their leaves long and thin to last in the snow."

"Well, there weren't any trees where I grew up."

"They need a certain amount of dirt as well, rather than sand or rocks. Did you live on the Sea-side?"

"I guess? That's kind of a weird way to put it."

"Maybe on a ship, or an island?" Indis could recall when the Valar had brought Tol Eressea over, and nearly all the crops on it had died with the sudden changes in weather and the disconnect from the solid foundation.

"No, Dad says that Feanor destroyed all the ships before I was born. And if there any islands, we can't tell beneath all the ice."

"Forgive me for the intrusion, but where did you grow up?"

"I jut said, on the Grinding Ice. We need to fight Morgoth and avenge Grandpa Finwe, and Feanor burnt the ships, so we walked."

"You spent your whole life on the Grinding Ice?!"

"I guess? The day after the bright circle appeared in the sky, there was a whistling, and Aredhel said it was a bird that only lived on land. But we couldn't actually see the ground under the ice and snow, or any plants other than cousin Angrod's aloes."

"Are you talking about the Moon or the Sun appearing in the sky?"

"I don't know, we hadn't figured out a word by the time... I think it was less bright than this, did the sky light get brighter?"

"There are two lights in the sky. The Moon is less bright, and was the first to rise by a week. The Sun is the one that's out now. Most people have built the habit of doing work by Sunlight and resting when it goes down."

"That makes sense, you can save fuel if you don't need torches to see by."

"Exactly."

Arakano seemed utterly fascinated by Indis's yard, and she watched him while thinking on his story. She knew that children could die; her own cousin had been killed in a landslide beside Cuivienen. But coming to Valinor was supposed to make them safe. On first sight, she had hoped that Arakano had returned in a form younger than his life out of preference, choosing to grow up in safety and put off his responsibilities for a while longer. But if he had not seen the Sun, he must be very young indeed. The time from the Trees going out to the Sun rising had only been thirty years, half the time for a child to grow to physical maturity (though elves counted them as not full adults yet for just as long again, to give them time to learn about society before choosing which path to followe). This child looked about the same age.

She hoped for a moment that he was lying to her, that he had a safe childhood ended only in a freak accident. But contemplating what would lead a child to lie to his own family led to thoughts even worse than the harsh world he grew up in.

Arakano was squatting down next to a weed. "Is this the kind of flower that's in Laurefindel's crest?"

"No, although they are similar shapes. This is a dandelion; Laurefindel has sunflowers."

"Findekano said that sunflowers were as big as my face, but I wasn't sure if he was joking, or if this plant would grow bigger."

"Most leafy plants don't grow any taller once they flower. The ones that do, like trees, tend to be the ones that keep blooming every year, rather than only bloom once and die."

"Huh. And they all stay in one place? Does the whole field just die if the ground collapses under it?"

"I suppose it would, though people could transplant anything that still had a bit of roots. But I've never seen the ground collapse."

"It collapses every few days! You can hear a sort of moaning if it's got too much weight on it, and then a crack right when it splits. That's why I had to wear a rope when I was a baby, so Dad could pull me back up if I didn't notice in time."

"That sounds very practical of Nolofinwe."

They continued as such for a few minutes, Argon asking questions about the plants, and the butterflies, and the Sun.

Shortly though, his stomach rumbled.

Indis said, "Would you like a snack? I'm not hungry myself, but you've had a very unusual day." When her youngest grandson didn't answer for a few moments, Indis added, "There's more than enough food, even with a second person. The nearest town is only a day's journey away on foot, and I keep enough in my pantry for several weeks." Not that she ate the dried beans and canned carrots very often when instead she had a lovely garden, but even if the land went dark again she would not starve.

"I'll have a snack if you do," Argon agreed after a minute's thought.

Indis's mother had skipped meals to be sure she had enough - it pained her to know that her son had to do the same. "Alright. What are you in the mood for? I like cheese and crackers in the afternoon myself, but I'm sure I can find something sweet if you prefer."

"Cheese! I haven't had cheese in forever, not since the goats died."

"I'm surprised the goats lasted long on the Ice at all, as cold as it is."

"The cold wasn't a problem, Aredhel and cousin Angarato made them seal coats just like the rest of us. But they ran out hay, even with feeding them the weird bits of meat too, and then there wasn't any more cheese. I got to ride one when I was smaller though, and they were very soft."

[sleepychinitaprincess]

20231206 life updates 🥰

di man sa di na jud ko ganahan maburos,

pero sa karon nga panahon, this time is not right pa man jud for another responsibility. specially nga di pa gani ko responsible nga tao karon. tapulan & sige ra man gani kog procrastinate. sorry, but di pa jud na para sa akoa nga responsibility sa karon. di sa jud ko please lang.

,✨dream story time✨

pagmata daw nako kay nag PT ko tapos di nako malimtan nga ang PT nga akong gamit kay pink nga clearblue tas niggawas daw dayn ato kay "pregnant" tas grabe ka random kay nidako na dayn akong tiyan

nya naa pay mas random nga very awkward sa akong damgo, ang amahan pa jud kay si Fred, like how? giunsa namo pagbuo? pero wa nana giapil nga details sa akong damgo basta siya jud daw ang amahan. nya weird pa jud kaayo kay wala nagduhaduha si fred kung siya ba ang amahan (sa akong damgo) pero gakahadlok daw siya kay bata pa siya pero willing siya motake responsibility sa baby (ambot basta kay naa koy nakita nga scene nila ni kent nga nagstorya sa library tas mao ni ang context).

mao na dayn ni ang very terrifying part for me kay nakabalo na daw dayon sila mama and papa. medjo disappointed sila pero support daw gihapon sila sa baby. atay grabe jud akong disappointment sa akong self malala. like bisan pag unsa ko kakapoy sa akong course and all kay nakahunahuna ko nga "unsaon na lang lugar ko ani?" "makagraduate pa kaha ko?" "maCPA pa kaha ko?"

I felt like my dreams for myself are slowly crashing and fading. Feeling nako at that time kay di na nako maachieve akong mga pangandoy para sa akong kaugalingon.

tas katong pasulod nako sa akong kwarto kay nakahunahuna ko nga weird kaayo kay nadumduman pa jud nako ang mga nahitabo sa reality nga bag o pa kaayo tung gahapon tas pagkakaron naburos ra dayn kog kalit. bisag dako na akong tiyan kay nisaka ghapon kos akong double deck nya dadto nihigda. niabot pa jud daw sila abby and cath para iassist daw ko kay gasakit na akong tiyan.

nya atay awkward kaayo kay niabot daw si Fred sa kwarto tas nakaprogram shirt pa jud siya (wa ko kabalo if mokatawa ba ko or what) di siya gatalk or anything basta kay naa ra iya presence.

wa pa jud ko nalipay kay akong doctor lalake, ambot ngano. giexplainan ko niya nga abrihan daw akong uknow para dali makagawas ang baby. nangutana dayn siya sa ako "do you trust me?" ang tubag dayn nako ditso is "no". basta kay ang naa ra sa room is katong doctor tas iyang mga alalay, sila abby, cath, ug fred.

nya wa na daw to gituloy sa ang operation kay di pako ready. nakarealize dayon ko nga bisan pag si Fred ang amahan nga pinakaultimate happy crush na nako, di gihapon ko malipay maburos aning panahona baii. bisan pag unsaon nakog comfort akong self nga akong crush ang amahan, way kilig pero disappointment jud akong gakafeel.

✨end✨

maynalang jud nag alarm ang phone ni fiona kay nakarealize ko nga di to tinuod tanan. pero for me, grabe kapower ang message ato nga dream baii. i take it as a message for me from God.

ani man jud kay kagabie, gakasuya na jud kos mga mag-uyab sa tiktok. like I was hurtfully wondering "what does it feel like if someone would want to pursue me?" "what does it feel like if makauyab na ko?" "what does it feel like nga naay someone you really like be clingy and waits for you?" like at that point, I was doubting if attractive ba jud ko nga person kay nganong walay gaka-attract. I was doubting if di ba jud ko worth ipursue since wa man juy nagtry manguyab sa akoa. like it was all self-pity and a bit of desperation.

then this dream comes and the moment I woke up from the sound of the alarm, I immediately thought to myself nga "ah! this is the message ni God from what I've been feeling and thinking last night." I realized nga di man ko kailangan magdali para ana kay naay time for everything. If it's meant for you, then eventually it will come.

also, these past few days, I was not feeling really productive sa akong mga outputs. I was not studying much na because I feel so drained and tired na from all the overwhelming tasks. I would always procrastinate. Watch tiktoks, play games on my phone, and always find a way to distract myself. Like the fire and eagerness in me is about to be gone na. Very excited na kay ko for the break and I also wanted to have someone special na.

that dream could actually be a representation of what might happen in the future if i keep on neglecting my responsibilities as a student. so, now, as much as it felt so much relief that it wasn't true. I will keep on reminding myself of that dream whenever I start to become distracted na naman. also when I feel like I want to rush things.

thank you, Lord for being with me always! 🤍

[cilil]

I laughed so hard when Námo thought about Vairë taking her broom and sweeping Fëanor right into the void. these two must be so done with him 🤭🤣

thank you for a warm laugh on a very cold day love🥰

A for effort for dear Námo

This is for all the people who made me really like Námo, like @maglor-my-beloved, @z-h-i-e, and of course, my Valar-liking friend @the-red-butterfly.

Please enjoy 715 words of Námo having a less-than-ideal day with his wife.

(Also...Fëanor, because always Fëanor)

“I do not look that grim,” Fëanáro bellowed, looking – as far as Námo was concerned – much dourer than his beloved wife had ever depicted him in any of her tapestries.

“Is it too much to ask that she not slander me more than strictly necessary? Already, you lot seem to have decided to turn me into the villain of your little tale of woe; do you absolutely have to make me look like one in every hanging as well?” The wavering soul sniffed in vexation. “My children see this as well, and my poor mother has to weave these atrocities! Who designs those abhorrent pictures?”

Námo steadied himself, trying hard to remember the breathing exercises his beloved siblings had shown him to deal with the stress of his workplace; these new-fangled ideas brought to their realm by the returning exiles and odd guests alike did have their undeniable advantages, he had to admit.

“I shall have words with my wife,” he declared placatingly, but a tight knot of apprehension started swirling deep within his core. As was custom, he did not meddle in Vairë’s work and she kept mostly out of his.

It would take incredible tact and quite a bit of sweet-talking to get her to understand that one of his charges – and she’d know which one right away – had complained about her handiwork. There was a distinct risk that she’d take the broom she used to tidy up the bits of discarded and cut-off thread in her halls and sweep Finwë’s oldest and Míriel’s only son straight into the void.

Tired of Fëanáro’s antics, Námo removed himself with as much grace as he could muster and went straight to his beloved wife’s halls where she sat, frowning and weighing a few spools of thread pensively, in front of a half-finished tapestry of a particularly bloody battle.

“Husband,” she greeted without turning around. “What say you? This one or this one for the blood?” She held aloft two reels that looked to be the exact same shade of crimson to Námo.

“That one,” he replied and tapped the one closest to him. “I’ve come to transmit the grievance of one of my charges.”

As she whirled around, he steeled himself against the inquisitive touch of her mind, brushing against his own with tender confidence. “Oh?” Vairë cocked her head.

“Someone expressed moderate displeasure about the way they’re shown.” He cleared his throat sheepishly as her brows drew together in dismay. “That someone,” he went on bravely, “thinks that their beauty might not be rendered satisfactorily by your impeccable art.”

“Oh, she said that he’d complain,” Vairë grunted and threw the bobbins to the stone floor to clasp her hands around her knees in an expression of benevolent patience. “And you’ve come to impart that questionable insight right away?”

“Indeed,” Námo sighed; he saw his wife’s eyes darken and her glance flit over the rows of neatly arrayed spools that turned one wall of her halls into a mesmerising mosaic of colours. 

“Leave it to me, husband,” she then said in a tone so sweet and soothing that he was now convinced beyond a doubt that she was indeed plotting to teach the unruliest of the High Kings of the Noldor a lesson.

“I submit to your wisdom and skill,” he replied hastily lest he be entangled in marital doom amongst other shenanigans. “Far be it from me to lecture you on your own unique gift.”

With those conciliatory words, Námo returned to his own tasks, happy to have handled things so well.

The very next day, Fëanáro – flashing red and orange with anger – came to him and led him to the newest addition to the hanging decorating every wall, courtesy of his esteemed spouse.

“Oh,” Námo gasped and fell silent. Vairë had indeed made Míriel’s son blindingly handsome, but – on the other hand – he was now tiny, dwarfed and overshadowed by his children and siblings. “Well, you’ve never said anything about your height.”

Smug as a cat that had gotten to the cream, he drifted away and left his very animate ball and chain standing in front of the offending tapestry, fuming and raging. 

At the very least, Námo thought, Fëanáro was much restored and almost his old self again…for better or for worse.

That's it...that's the burst of energy for today lol

Lots of love!

[writers-vlogx]

The curse of a god

OKAY ITS NOT MY FAULT THIS MAN WONT GET OUT OF MY HEAD, SO GET USE TO NAMOE CONTENT

If there is one thing namoe learned over the decades is to never become too attached, everyone died at some point and every time he got left behind, for centuries he was alone never being able to keep anyone as much as he wished to.

It was the curse of a god

You had been in this earth for a very long time, seen everyone go but you held no hatred for it, you had learned to find beauty in death.

You had been like this after pleading for a very long time, death had never scared you. But you had done wrong, you had angered the ancestors after your selfishness to save your husband and by such he was taken from you. You were comforted by the thought of meeting him in the afterlife but the gods still angered by the sacrifice you made tortured you and your immortality was granted, it was given as a lesson. it was a curse.

It was the thing that keeped you from the one you longed for.

You first meet namoe when walking through the beach late at night, you had become use to these walks they helped you calm your mind when it felt like too many moons had passed.

You saw him hiding and looking at you, you wandered to his side, he did not move or step away from you.

There was something that he could not tell, something that let him know you were not just a mortal, you were something else.

Something infinite

From there he became interested in you, many nights he came by never saying anything but staring at you, no, admiring you. He saw you as a gift, someone he would never loose, a blessing from the ancestors, mercy on his lonely heart. Something that he could keep, someone he could cherish for centuries.

One of those night you came back, expecting the same interaction of him being absolutely hypnotized by you and then disappearing into the ocean, instead a different man was revealed to you. He was sitting down in one of the tree trunks looking up at the moon, he heard when you sat down next to him.

He always knew when you were near

He turned to look at you, and for the first time he smiled at you, he spoke very softly "come sit with me" he offered and you did

His voice was beautiful, his eyes looked tired and it seemed that he did not have the strength to hold his tough persona "please" he placed his head on your shoulder "Be mine" he repeated over and over like a prayer.

A prayer you would become his, he had lost so much. He had been alone for so many centuries that he had forgotten the warmth of another, forgotten how it felt to have the loving gaze of someone on him. And oh gods did he crave it, he longed for it like a drug.

You stared into the ocean, hesitant to say yes but then you felt it. Tears running down your chest.

He was crying

"Please, I can give you everything!" he gasped for air "Don't leave me, you can't leave me, your like me!" His eyes were puffy and red, his eyes searching for an answer in yours. You hushed him and cupped his face.

And in that moment you saw the image of a god become more fragile than any mortal, all those years alone, isolated, torn finally weighing down on him.

You pulled him into your chest and let him rest, as his breath starts to slow down but his sobs are still very noticeable you start humming very softly.

You run your fingers through his hair, and rub his back, holding him. Reassuring him, you pull his face towards yours, he tries to pull away embarrassed of what you had witnessed, even so you pull him back and make him look at you "Shh I'm here, I'm not going anywhere okay?" He had lost so much and you had too.

The sun had started to come up after a night of soft and vulnerable moments in each other's grasp, he stood up and extended his hand towards you. You took it and smiled, looking back one last time.

It had been too long, you had forgotten the joy of being alive

You followed him into the water, the coolness washing all of your worries away.

As you both swam down deeper, from the above your ancestors smiled, it seems you had found your purpose after all, the true meaning of sacrifice.

[cilil]

Fëanor: I don't know about karma, but Námo is a bitch

[lamemaster]

The Silmarillion Elves Finding My Mutual's Blog

AN: why am I doing this? Lack of brain cells, I tell you. But here we go (lmk if you would like to be removed...I don't intend to offend anyone). A small gift for mutuals and feel free to add more blogs if needed.

Summary: How would characters from the Silmarillion react to finding my mutual's blogs. Purely based on my interpretation which may or may not be messed up.

@asianbutnotjapanese: the loremaster with all the records. Elrond and Finrod. Do I need to say more? This trio would sit together to appreciate all the writings together. A group that thrives together as they compare their findings.

Finrod's appreciation might originate in the form of odes complimented by the notes of his harp.

Kings and queens of reblogging stuff for easier access.

@doodle-pops: There's going to be a crowd here. But the chief guest of this gathering can be none other than Fingon. Accompanied by Glorfindel and Fingolfin (because I see you with that sugar daddy fic Mina).

I completely expect Fingon to encounter the blog, binge-read everything and then create his own the very next day (and yes, he will write the most cursed ships). This elf will create multiple other accounts to comment on the Fingon fics...Will jokingly compare the note count of his fic with that of Maedhros'.

Glorfindel is just another golden retriever. He will meticulously thank you and the rebloggers (celebrates humbly at his popularity). And he will be the one to send super sweet 'you're amazing' kind of asks to the writer.

Fingofin will become an established annon on the blog. No one knows it's him. His online personality is 180 from his real life. (He's got some ships and opinions and mans won't stop from stating them *aggressively*.

@a-world-of-whimsy-5: The Ainur. Sauron, Namo, and Irmo (Manwe and Eonwe are lurking) are here and they will read everything. Don't be surprised if you get a bunch of passionate Sauron requests by an 'annon' the next day. Very specific requests.

Irmo on the other hand reads even the spiciest fics with a poker face late at night. I can just imagine him laying with his phone in his hand as he scrolls through the blog. A quiet existence but don't be surprised when you wake up with 50 notes and a new followers.

Namo will start by restraining himself to the sfw fics but somehow ends up reading nsfw and goes down the rabbit hole. Next day the he can't look anyone in the eye (especially Manwe). Decides never to do that again only to come back for more (don't even bring him close to hurt no comfort, this Ainur cried for Luthien. He can't handle angst).

@wandererindreams: Ulmo, Manwe, Eru, and The Void. Just a merry group having existential conversations. You all would be sitting there with your copy of texts and believe me Eru will pull out receipts to prove shit.

The sight of the Void being hyped by all the extensive headcanons...chef's kiss. Literal black hole feels included in the fandom for the first time.

Manwe and Ulmo would be there with wisdom and appreciation for your deep contemplation. Both commenting their piece and views about the subject in lengthy comments.

Eru will be taking notes. I can envision Iluvatar, playing devil's advocate (ironic) and arguing against anything and everything. Eru likes hooman who challenge him (ask Numenorians).

@animatorweirdo: Maglor and Sauron. The second eldest Feanorian will be found blushing as he reads your works and he will revisit the blog in bouts of day-dreaming of his true love. Leaves adorable emojis in the comments.

Believe me, Sauron would get some pretty interesting ideas from all your sci-fi fics. Now he really really really needs a vampire plus werewolf SO so bad. This maia will flourish under all the attention given to him. Follows fervently but will like sparingly (he's got an image to maintain).

I would also spy a lingering Maedhros but he's got the tired mom energy so he'll be a flickering presence who remembers Tumblr once every 3 months.

Lamemaster: dead. Feanor or Finwe will smite me the second they see my blog.

[curufiend]

Silmarillion Modern Business/CEO AU

Inspired by @doodle-pops own CEO AU

Finwe is CEO of TIRION, a very successful tech company. Finwe founded and owned TIRION for many years, but was mysteriously murdered in his home by an unknown assailant. His company then dissolved into chaos as his son and step son fought over control. Both sides had large followings, and as a result, the company was split in two. A legal battle ensued, and Judge Namo declared that Feanor, as Finwe’s only blood relation, would be allowed to keep the name TIRION, but would be forced to give up half of the profits to his step brother Fingolfin and his new company Hithlum Enterprises.

Fingolfin is the CEO of Hithlum Enterprises. Fingon is his #2, and eventually takes over after Fingolfin dies.

Melkor is the CEO of Angband, and is the main rival of the Finwians.

Feanor is the CEO of TIRION. When things started to heat up at work between him and Fingolfin (while Finwe was still alive) he eventually decided leave TIRION and founded his own company, Formenos. Though he later went back to TIRION after Finwe’s death and gave ownership of Formenos to Curufin. Curufin passes Formenos to Celebrimbor, who renames it RING.

Maedhros is CEO of TIRION after Feanor dies.

Nerdanel is famous sculpter obviously.

Finarfin is a doctor or something and Earwen is a marine biologist. They don’t involve themselves in their family’s bs.

Anairë owns a law firm. Turgon takes over after Finwe dies and she retires. Idril takes over after him.

Finrod is a social media influencer who owns a fashion line.

Galadriel moves to an entirely different state and was the assistant to Melian, a governor. Or maybe a senator? Eventually becomes the president or something lol.

Maglor is a musician of some kind. He’s a starving artist until his family’s drama gets him attention. Eventually adopts two kids.

Celegorm works for the National Parks or something. Maybe a vet?

Caranthir got tired of his family’s bs and made his own company way before Finwe died. He’s incredibly successful. The King of Business. Everyone in his family calls him if they have a problem with their businesses. Has made billions off of his investments alone. Probably found a loophole to get out of paying his taxes. Will help you find it too because fuck the government. Is somehow the richest person in his entire extended family.

Aegnor tried out for the swim team because a girl he was interested in said she thought Michael Phelps was hot. Ends up being insanely good at it and competes at an Olympic level. Fucks Michael Phelps.

Aredhel is a world champion Olympic archer. She likes to volunteer at Celegorm’s work every once in a while. Was in an abusive relationship as a teenager and had Maeglin when she was pretty young.

Argon is a famous basketball player. (He’s TALL)

Amrod was killed in a house fire by one of Melkor’s men in retaliation for something that Feanor did. Amras was left horribly burnt, but survived. He worked odd jobs throughout his life, but never stayed at one for too long. He never truly recovered from his brother’s loss.

Gil-Galad is Maedhros and Fingon’s son. He ends up inheriting both of his father’s companies and as a result, the companies merge back together after many long years apart.

[sunflowersupremes]

It’s 3 am and I need “Frodo destroys the ring but somehow that frees Morgoth” AU. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know.

Aragorn, the Fellowship and the army of Gondor fell back to Minas Tirith to regroup (and moan “what the fuck” a lot)

Namo is fucking done. What the fuck Manwë. He releases Fëanor and his sons from Mandos because he knows they really want to punch Melkor.

The entire house of Finwë returns to Middle Earth to KICK MORGOTH’S BUTT and bring the sad beach cryptid back home with them.

Galadriel and Gandalf managed to get their Rings off before Sauron took control. Elrond tried to fight back (because he knew Aragorn was in danger and that was all he could process). Glorfindel had to cut off Elrond’s finger to remove Vilya.

Fëanor and his sons get to Minas Tirith first (Finarfin and his kids went to free Lorien; Fingolfin and his kids went to save Imladris)

Gandalf is shocked to see Fëanor, but also thinks the whole thing is hilarious. Classic Gandalf.

Merry and Pippin are very confused by the ginger elf who is almost as tall as an ent (not really, but hobbits are bad at math)

Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir are VERY CONCERNED about the sudden reappearance of Fëanor. Legolas would be concerned if he’d ever paid attention to history lessons.

Bonus: Elladan, Elrohir, Amrod, and Amras are a group to be feared.

They all assume Frodo and Sam are dead until a very old and tired Maglor Fëanorian limps into Gondor and calmly asks for a healer. He had followed them into Mordor out of curiosity and after the Ring’s destruction he carried them out.

Maglor insists he was not trying to kidnap more children. He says he knew they were adults. Sam says he kept calling them “little ones” and “dear children.”

Maglor doesn’t know what to do when he is suddenly mobbed by his father and brothers (he didn’t know they were back, he just went to Gondor because it was closest).

Maglor cries.

Fingolfin’s group get there next (because Elrond heard Maedhros was back and immediately took off).

Elrond was not expecting to see Maglor because he assumed Maglor was still wandering the beach somewhere. (Maglor burst into tears when he saw Elrond’s bandaged hand)

Maedhros and Maglor are NOT HAPPY that their son is missing a finger and immediately start chewing him out about “fucking magic Jewels and jewelry”

Erestor, who came with Elrond and is a former follower of Maglor, almost cries at the sight of his best friend.

Finarfin had to go find his son (Gildor Inglorion is actually Finrod, because he’s the WORST at coming up with fake names). He finally arrives in Minas Tirith very Tired and Done with Everyone.

Gildor/Finrod was hanging out with Radagast, so now they have rabbits. Great. Thanks buddy. Really helpful when you’re fighting EVIL INCARNATE.

Galadriel yells at Fëanor. Everyone is happy about this.

Gil-Galad is there. Fingon and Maglor finally admit to everyone that Gil-Galad is Maglor’s son that Fingon just passed off as his own. Fëanor is ECSTATIC. Maglor cries.

Celebrían is there too. She has a sword. She stabs things. She is badass.

Dain Ironfoot rolls out of Erebor with a dwarf army to save Gimli, son of Gloin. He figures he might as well help the big dudes too.

Fëanor likes the dwarves. This is concerning. They tell him about the Arkenstone. This is very concerning.

Maglor assures them that the Arkenstone is not a Silmaril. He already checked. It’s a cheap copy that Morgoth made to try to replicate them.

Celebrimbor came with Curufin (who he stubbornly refuses to call Dad). He is not happy that everyone keeps ribbing him about his ex-boyfriend.

Finrod and Curufin fight over which of them is a better father figure to Celebrimbor.

The mortals of Gondor initially thought the elves would save them, by this point they’re fairly sure they’re fucked.

Somehow they all band together for one last dramatic siege on Mordor.

Morgoth comes out to fight them and just as it looks like he might be about to win, Earendil swoops down, crashes Vingilot into him, and squishes him.

[lutawolf]

Soft D/s Element of Not Me Episode 9

If you don't know what soft D/s element or tendencies are, then you haven't read my other posts. You can find them on my master list here. If you're interested in more D/s content then check out my general master list here, there is also a short bio there telling you, my qualifications.

There are several types of subs and Doms for that matter. Which I give somewhat of a description here. The important thing to understand is that while a person might be a natural submissive and use to listening and responding to commands. They do draw a line at who they will take commands from.

Honestly the whole love scene was very much negotiations, consent, and guidelines. This is what we do in a D/s relationship. Not only was it emotional but it detailed perfectly that negotiations and consent can be sensual as well.

Establish consent: "Are you scared of me" "No, I'm not" Establishing consent AND consent of power exchange: "What are we doing?" "Hmm, what should I do to you?" "That's up to you." Then establishing guidelines: "Don't be afraid. Once I do something, tell me if you like it or not.

Also take note that White establishes Sean's guidelines as well. Guidelines go both ways. A submissive has to ask to figure out what is acceptable and unacceptable to their Dom.

I often get asked what's the difference between body worship and sensuality. What White is doing is considered body worship. It looks like he is taking control from Sean but no, he is actually body worshipping. He is taking over to give maximum pleasure to Sean first.

Next scene has White and Sean sitting on an edge of the building. They both check on each other, asking each other if they are okay. Though Sean carries the power, there is not an imbalance in love and care. Though you will often see a sub caring for and putting their Dom first. A sub to their Dom is more valuable than anything.

I love how if you watch Dan and Yok scenes, you can really see the dynamic difference between the couples. Dan "What are you doing at the police station? You should go." Nope. Yok not going anywhere till he gets his date. These two hold an equal power balance.

The next scene has White waking up before Sean. Immediately going to touch him because as we've seen in previously, White finds comfort in touch. Now he feels comfortable to touch as much as he wants. Sean wakes up and though he is questioning why Black was awake so early, he reaffirms that Black can touch him all he wants. While telling Black that they have the day off and are going for a walk. White has questions but he isn't arguing.

As they are taking the walk; Sean is attentive, supportive, and protective. Helps Black through the window, over the gate, and basically helping him wherever he might need assistance. You've not seen Sean like this with his friends or even Namo because this sort of treatment is reserved for Black.

Sean takes Black to his spot. Where he comes when he is reborn. He knows that Black is struggling with something and not ready to communicate. He's trying to give him the tools to face his fears. He wants him to leap and land on a tire in the middle of the water. "If you're not brave enough, you'll never achieve it." He pushes and commands Black. "You do it, jump and land on your feet." White is still hesitant, rather than use a full command, Sean gives an incentive of a bet. Which White does respond to though hesitantly. Sean goads but it isn't like previously, this time it's gentler and intended as soft pushes.

White overextends the jump, but Sean is prepared and catches him. This was to show Black that he can face his fears and Sean will always be there to support him. Sean calls him on the fall, and they have enjoyable bratty banter. However, when White commands "ask your favor. Do it now or I'll change my mind." Sean quickly proves who the actual Dom is. Once Sean shuts him down, White just smiles back at him.

Once again we see the vastly different dynamic of Dan and Yok. Who easily balance commanding each other and giving over power wherever necessary. We have Dan pushing Yoks head down. Yok listening to Dan. Then Yok telling Dan to give him a ride. Very back and forth.

The next scene is Sean bringing a drink to Black, he even opens the can. White doesn't show the proper respect. Sean does a gentle correction by withholding the drink. When Sean does get the correct response, he quickly relents. However, he does enact some pay back by spraying the drink on Black. To which White tells Sean to "watch your back" "Look who you are speaking with here." "Who here should watch his back?" To which White has no comment. I think some people thought Sean was referencing being the top but considering the equity of the show. I really doubt it. It's referencing him being the Dominant in the relationship. Sean then hands over the other drink and puts Black's helmet on him.

Sean notices the car following them and lets Black know. He then tells him to not look back but to increase his speed. White instantly obeys. What I love though is that when White says, "Sean, make a turn up ahead. It's a one-way road." Sean immediately listens. My husband is my submissive but there are things he is more knowledgeable about, and I would be stupid to not listen. A good Dominant knows when to lead and when to listen.

When they arrive at the garage, Sean is in protective mode. Dominants are naturally very protective but add in Sean's abandonment issues and it's worse. White handles this perfectly. He listens to Sean until he knows they are safe, then he immediately starts to soothe.

When White gets a phone call from his mom, he decides to meet her. You can tell Sean would rather him not leave but Black is still his own person. Remember there are different types of subs and only a small percentage gives over all control. This is one of those times when Sean recognizes that he is going to have to step back and let Black do his own thing.

Let's talk about Black and White. Black is very much a Dominant. He's no brat tamer either. He is a classic Dominant with very little bend. White with Black doesn't brat or play, he just obeys. White is not even like with his father. He was able to defy him on something that matters to him. Not so with Black. Black has him completely conflicted.

Well, that's it for this episode. Sorry it took so long; I had a lot of issues finding the gifs I wanted. Hope you enjoy.

[spaceskam]

Thinking about how the entirety of episode nine, Sean seemed to be very aware everything he was getting with White was temporary and he's indulging himself to the fullest. Being overly affectionate, being vulnerable, asking for the button on his shirt. He knows time is ticking–because this isn't Black, this is someone else, and this someone else isn't staying and honestly he probably thinks that if they are staying, it wouldn't be forever anyway. I don't think anyone in their entire gang thinks that anything good will last, it's always temporary. And so when White answers a call from his mom and is going to meet her, something I'm sure Sean knows Black would never do, he feels like this is goodbye. He gets sad and touchy, soaking up these last few moments. This is it.

And with that being said, he still tells Namo the truth. He thinks he's saying goodbye and he still isn't going to lie about what he feels for White.

And then Namo leaves and he's alone which, knowing Nuchie, that was absolutely on purpose. And we have this moment of silence of him looking down and then putting his head in his hands, exhausted, showing a small moment of closed vulnerability that's completely different from the openness he's been showing with White.

The fun is over, he's alone, he's tired, and his walls are going back up.

[celebrimbor-loves-you]

my design for Namo Mandos, master of souls and fates!

his hair are mouse-brown and! his eyes are totally black. like the Darkness where Melkor dwells. black and very tired.

I love Namo a lot and I love Vaire and I love all feanturi im common they're my lovely cute suns ^^

So yeah, that "stars" on his clothing are Vaire's embroidery... and he love her work. and he love her.

Vaire: oh my dear you can't put on all clothes I designed at once.

Namo, who's looking like a a pile of beautiful rags with head: why I can't? I like every single one of them...

Vaire: oh dear...

Namo: don't worry about it, my beloved. I'll deal with it. Love you ❤️

Vaire: love you too honey ❤️