#Can I eat yogurt after dinner

[vampcastellan]

forever with him, luke castellan fanfic

summary: friends to lovers, sunshine and grumpy, apollo cabin main character <3

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warning(s) : lots of plot, some cringey fluff, cute kissing moments & use of y/n

dedications: my bestfriend honeymoomin. i hope you enjoy reading, i love you minnie !!

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note: hii first time poster here but i’m so in love with luke fics so i wrote my own :)

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everyone at camp half blood knows that the apollo kids are an embodiment of sunshine and happiness. no matter what happens, they always find a reason to make those around them smile and laugh. people gravitate towards the positive energy that being an apollo kid has, and you are no different. even the angsty and moody kids seem to enjoy your presence. luke castellan is the most popular example of this.

the horn echoes in the distance as you wake up, kids slowly pile out of your cabin and walk down to the dining pavilion. mixed foods are spread out for everyone to grab and enjoy. you grab a few small items, fruit, yogurt and an apple juice before heading toward your respective table. 

all cabins have their own tables, and all cabin mates must eat with their siblings. every meal, everyday, forever until they grow up and leave. luke castellan does not follow this rule. 

his brown curls are messy and falling into his eyes, it’s obvious he didn’t sleep much the night before. he walks to grab a plate of mixed fruits and walks towards your table. chiron tried to take away dessert privileges the first few times it happened but luke didn’t care, he still wanted to sit with you. eventually it was a habit for both cabins, luke ate every meal with you instead.

“rough night?” you ask, smiling as he slips onto the bench seat beside you.

“yeah, the twins wouldn’t shut up..” he trails off, slowly piling his plate of breakfast down into his mouth. luke was the head counselor for hermes cabin, which means he didn’t get to sleep until everyone else was taken care of. 

“wanna come to mine and help me study?” you chirp up and turn to look at him, his focus is fixed on the table in front of you both. the ares kids are fighting over who has to scrub toilets after losing the capture of the flag. clarisse la rue, their head counselor is repetitively smacking one of the trouble boys on the head until he stops yelling.

“uhh maybe later? i have training duty today for the new group that showed up last week” luke replied without even turning to look at you. he continued eating his fruit and even continued onto eating some of yours as well. 

“oh it’s okay, i can just study with someone else today” you smiled at him and brushed off how different the rejection felt today. 

“okay, come find me before dinner?” luke asked as he stood up from the bench and grabbed his remaining fruit left on the plate. 

“of course!” you cheerly replied and turned to look up at luke as he hovered over you. he quickly wrapped an arm around your chest and hugged you from behind, kissing your temple before walking off toward the fire pit. every demi-god child has to offer food scraps to their parent, as a form of admiration and love. therefore, the fire pit burns every minute of every day, basically for the rest of eternity as long as camp half-blood stands alive.

and let's just say the flames weren’t the only thing burning bright red anymore.

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you decided to study with annabeth in the athena cabin since luke ditched you for counselor duties. nobody can compete with the smarts of an athena kid, but you were pretty damn close. 

annabeth was incredibly talented in basically everything, but she liked to study architecture specifically. she could ramble about the history and purpose of buildings for days. you on the other hand preferred the easier topics, like high school english and ancient greek history. 

“are you going to tell me what happened at breakfast this morning or not?” annabeth dropped her pencil down and looked straight at you. the burn of her stare was starting to become undeniable to acknowledge. 

“what are you talking about?” you sigh and glance up at her, before returning back to the textbook sitting in front of you. 

“are you seriously this clueless? luke kissed you this morning in front of everyone. you have no feelings about that?” her dead serious look made you feel slightly disoriented. you wait for a few seconds before replying back to her.

“he kissed my forehead, beth. it's not like we made out in front of the entire camp. and why exactly does this matter anyway?” you glare at her confused, squinting your eyes slightly and tilting your head in a questioned manner.

“you really are clueless, aren't you?” she took a deep breath and collected her belongings. “luke has had a crush on you for years, y/n” annabeth beams at you and then your wrist. a thin beaded best friend bracelet sat by itself. luke had made it for you after you arrived at camp, that being almost 6 years ago. he wore his matching one everyday, refusing to take it off even in combat.

“i’ll see you at dinner!” she gives you a quick side hug and then leaves you alone in the cabin to gather your thoughts and feelings. 

and staying with your feelings is exactly what you did. the rest of the day you couldn’t focus on anything but the conversation with annabeth. did luke actually like you back? and if so, how did she know before you did? everything was becoming so complicated and confusing now.

clarisse stopped you on your way toward the training fields, she wanted your help fixing up and decorating a chariot for the camp’s racing event tomorrow. you, being an apollo kid, couldn't possibly deny her request. the two of you worked together for a couple hours, mixing scraps and parts into useful weapons. after she saw how distracted you were when you began painting small hearts along the doors sides, she took a pause. normally this could have passed without question for the aphrodite cabin, but ares? absolutely not. 

“alright, who has you in a love spell y/n? i appreciate the help you know, but drawing hearts on my chariot won't go well with me or any of my siblings.” she questioned you, removing the small hand held paint brush from your grasp. 

“hmm? sorry i’ve got alot on my mind” you quickly replied, giving a sympathetic smile as blush crept onto your cheeks. clarisse looked at you for a moment, sighed, and then walked back toward her side of the cart. she threw the brush back into the pile of others before continuing whatever progress she has at making some wheels spin faster.

“the horn will sound for dinner here soon, you can leave now. thank you for the help” she yelped from beyond the chariot, smacking around parts of steel.

you close your eyes for a moment and deeply exhale. like clockwork the loud conch shell announced that it was time for all demi-god children to meet in the dining pavilion. a sudden wave of worry had overcome your mind and body. 

luke always sits with you and the rest of the apollo cabin. there was no possible way to ignore his actions, or ask him to sit with his own cabin mates. making the friendship awkward wasnt what you wanted to do. this was undeniably going to happen right now, you just needed to act calm and chill like always!

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you slowly make your way out of the forest with clouded thoughts and a funny feeling in your stomach. you meet with annabeth again as you walk past the athena cabin doors. 

“hi y/n, have you seen luke yet?” she smirks at you and wiggles her eyebrows. you stop in your tracks and turn to dead pan her. 

“please tell me you were joking earlier.” you say with a serious face, thinking there’s no possible way that THE luke castellan could ever possibly like you back. 

“wait do you not like him too? i only told you because me and percy were tired of the constant flirting and neither of you were making moves.” she stops beside you and looks at you with a confused face. her happy and fun aura has since fallen after your recent question.

“that’s the issue beth, i’ve been in love with him forever! i never in a million years thought that he could ever feel the same until now. he’s so nonchalant and only ever talks about hooking up with one of the ares kids. i didn’t think he would want someone completely opposite of his personality…” you continue to ramble on, but annabeth’s focus slowly leaves and shifts to something behind you. a pale tone overtook her face about halfway through your speech

“are you even listening to me anymore??? i'm sorry, forget it, i’ll see you at the campfire.” you begin to turn around only to be faced with none other than luke castellan himself. there’s an awkward moment of silence before he speaks up

“you’re in love with me?” he questions, a slight blush is noticeable all over his face. his hands are tucked away into his pockets nervously.

“no no it’s not like- well yes but i can explain, can we talk? alone maybe?” you try to reason with him while hinting toward annabeth to give the two of you some privacy. she kindly understands and smiles at you before walking away and down toward the pavilion. 

“we can talk on the way to my cabin, most of the kids are already sitting down for dinner so it should be empty this time around.” he offers you a smile and extends his hand towards you. without skipping a beat you lace your fingers into his and prepare to walk toward the hermes structure. the silence between you is oddly peaceful, luke’s always been really good at making people feel safe even in the most uncomfortable situations. his hands are warm and soft, his thumb is gently rubbing along your fingers as he guides the way. 

“i assume annabeth told you” he glances down at you and then back up toward the graveled path. his grip on your hand is strong, almost as if he would die if he let go.

“uh yeah, she did..” your throat is suddenly very dry and you begin to feel that funny feeling in your stomach again. 

“i can almost feel the nerves radiating off you, take a breath y/n.” he chuckles as he pulls you toward the hermes cabin doors. gently releasing your hand to open it and gesture for you to enter first. you awkwardly walk inside and head toward the corner where his bed sits. you take a seat on the edge of his bed and glance around as if it's your first time in here. even though you’ve been friends with luke for half a decade, the new found feelings are making you feel like it's your first time hanging out together. he closes the door and walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. his thighs are practically touching you, his hand brushes against yours everytime he tries to move. the tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a butterknife. 

“so do you wanna explain what i overheard you telling annabeth..?” he offers you the chance to talk first, but he doesn't look away from your guys feet on the floor in front of you.

“how much exactly did you hear?” you question him, turning to look him in the eyes. 

“would you be alarmed if i said everything?” he peels his eyes off the floor and glances down at you. his lips are pursed into a small smirk and there's a red tint that lies on his cheeks.

“oh great” you awkwardly laugh and place your head into your heads. luke carefully wraps his hands around yours, pulling them away from your face. he makes sure not to let go of them, as he places both of your guys hands into his lap.

“i like you, y/n. i’ve always liked you, i was just waiting for you to realize it…” his eyes are soft when you look into them. you can see as his eyes dart between your own and down to your lips. the room is suddenly hot, and you feel a gravitational pull toward luke. he must feel it too because within seconds both of you are leaning in. one of his hands comes up to hold your jaw. he’s pulling you into him, and quickly you are inches away from his face. there's a quick pause in his movement before he speaks up. “are you sure you wanna do this?” the gentle look in his gaze is the same he’s always given you. this whole time he was admiring you from afar, and you had no idea until this very moment.

a radiant smile overcomes your face, you nod your head and lean into him. luke’s other hand reaches up to hold the other side of your face. 

his lips finally meet yours, and the feeling can only be described as euphoric. you’ve dreamt of this happening for years and years, but nothing could compare to the real thing. his movements are gentle, guiding you through the moment. his lips are warm and welcoming. his hands move toward the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side and deepening the kiss. 

moments pass before you finally pull back, making an attempt at catching your breath. luke, refusing to let you go, happily places small kisses over your lips and cheeks. you throw your head backwards and giggle as luke wraps his arms around you. 

“i suppose this means you definitely like me too, right?” one of his hands is gently playing with the hair that frames your face, as the other is rubbing your back. “you’d be stupid to think otherwise, luke castellan.” you respond and smile, leaning into his soft touch. he takes this moment to kiss you once more before pulling you into his chest. the two of you sit there for a few moments, enjoying the moment. 

“we should probably go to dinner before chiron sends someone looking for us” he speaks and leans up. you follow his movements and nod your head slightly. luke stands to his feet and gives you his hand, pulling you to your own feet as well. he places one more kiss on your lips before guiding the both of you toward the cabin door. 

as usual he joins you and your siblings, the apollo cabin, for dinner. this night, he sits closer to you, holding your hand under the table and drawing small circles around your fingers. every now and again, you share a look and smile before returning to the conversion happening at the table. everything feels right, and you can't wait to spend forever with him.

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#luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #charlie bushnell x reader #vampcastellanwrites

[p1xelpc]

Why Life is a Tragedy

[ Plain text: Why Life is a Tragedy ]

My daily routine is usually very empty. Most days it goes like this:

My mother brings me my breakfast at 8. That consists of yogurt with berries and granola, protein shake, and a cup of strawberry milk (a small cup, so I don’t upset my stomach).

She says good morning and helps me rearrange myself if I’m awake. If I’m not, she goes to her office across the hall.

I take about 15 minutes to actually work up the energy to eat and take my meds. I play Wordle while I wait.

If I feel up to it, I go to the bathroom, change my diaper, use hand sanitizer, and wash my face. Some days I may brush my teeth with a toothbrush and water. Those are rare days.

After I finish, I stay in my bathroom chair for 5-10 minutes while I work up the energy to get back to bed.

When I do get back to bed, I decide what activities I will do that day.

If I feel up to it, I set up my activities around my legs so that I can do it when I’m ready. If I don’t, I ask mama if she can set up when she gets the chance.

I play on my phone and socialize on Tumblr and Discord. I try to do my activity.

I do that until lunch. Taking breaks every 5-30 minutes depending on the activity.

Lunch is around 12. It has been hard boiled egg whites, cucumber slices, and a small cheese recently. Soon it may change to a prepackaged lunch with crackers, ham, cheese, and mini cookies. I get another (small) cup of something other than water. 

After I eat, I decide what activity I will do for the rest of the day and try to set it up. I usually do not succeed and need mama to come help.

I play on my phone and socialize on Tumblr and Discord. I try to do my activity.

I do that until mama finishes work. She comes in to take my dirty dishes and she asks what I want for dinner. I want pasta please. She goes to make pasta.

I continue my activity.

She brings me my pasta and another (small) cup of something other than water.

I eat.

I do not do an activity. I may watch TV. I play on my phone and socialize on Tumblr and Discord.

At 8:00 mama comes to help me to the bathroom. After I finish, she comes in to help me wash my hands, wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on my Testosterone gel. We talk the whole time.

I go to bed. Mama helps get me situated. She helps me take my meds.

After mama closes the curtain, I play on my phone until around 10.

I go to sleep.

On weekends my days are different. Mama has to help me shower at least once (usually Sunday). That takes about 1-2 hours total. I need a lot of help.

Some days I have doctor appointments. I take around 45 minutes to get ready. It usually takes 15 minutes to get to the office. The appointments usually last an hour, not including wait time. After I get home, I lay in bed for the rest of the day and do not use the bathroom that night (I am too tired).

I cannot leave the house most days. There are many days I can barely leave my bed. Some days I cannot leave my bed at all. My usual pain level is at minimum a 6. I cannot speak, only make funny sounds. I require at least 2 forearm crutches to walk safely. I usually need a wheelchair to move. I cannot leave the house without my ear defenders on. I take a fully packed backpack everywhere I go. I need support to sit up and to stay sitting.

My hobbies include coloring, playing video games, making disability aid designs, writing, reading, and baking. My favorite animal is a Triceratops, though I only like the cartoonish designs. I like fluffy animals. I love Bluey. I enjoy learning about disability related topics. I read children’s novels because they are what I understand. I love going to the zoo. I love going to the library. I enjoy warm weather with light wind. I enjoy dressing up and doing makeup. I love ice cream cake. On days with nice weather and good health, I like to go outside and just sit. 

I have 2 stuffed animals that I take everywhere (Jameson and Gerald). I have 1 that I take lots of places (Fred). I have 2 that usually stay on my bed, but travel if I’ll be gone for a while (Kougie and Melon). My favorite colors are yellow, pink, and green (no particular order). I use a light Bluey blanket, a light dino blanket, and a weighted blanket every night. I use at least Little Pillow every night (it has smiley faces). I have a cat shaped pillow for my neck. 

Did you decide if my life is worth living? Do you need more information? Do you think I’m tragic? Do you need to give your sympathy to my carer as if I don’t exist? Do you know my sense of humor? Do you know why I am loved? Do you know my limits? Do you know what I am capable of? Do you know what brings me joy? Do you know if I’m a person? Do you know my identity? Do you know who I am?

Do you know if I am happy? 

Do you care? 

This inspired by Unspeakable Conversations by Harriet McBride Johnson

#not know if people will understand #this the one that not know where going with #this the one that made cry #pix writing #disability #visible disability #high support needs #medium support needs #autism #nonverbal #physical disability #nonspeaking #wheelchair user #cripple punk #c punk #disabled #actually disabled #actually autistic #disability visibility

[breannasfluff]

Cereal Soup

“Cereal is a soup.”

Wild stares at Four. Would the timeline continue if he killed the smith on the spot? It might be worth it to find out.

“Cereal,” he says, “is not a soup. Soup is soup. I make enough of it I should know.”

“It’s soup! It’s liquid with stuff in in!”

“No, that’s wrong!”

“Chili is soup,” Four points out.

Wild throws his hands up at this. “Chili is chili! Not soup!”

“It’s in the soup family!”

Fine. If that’s how Four wants to play it. He should have learned not to test Wild after the tomato cake incident. “Okay, then by your standards, yogurt is soup.”

Four squints, likely looking for the trap. “Explain.”

“It comes in a bowl with stuff in it. And, like chili, it’s thick.”

“Then…” The smith chews over the words, then nods. “Yeah. Yogurt is soup then.”

“Perfect. I was going to make soup for dinner. I’m sure you will enjoy some yogurt.”

“That’s not a dinner food!”

“You should have thought of that when you said cereal was a soup!”

From the side, Sky leans over to Warriors. “Think we’re going to be eating weird stuff for another week?”

“I’ll see if I can bribe Wild into making us real food on the side.”

Next to them, Twilight slumps. “I just want to eat a potato again.”

“Cereal is a soup! Breakfast soup!”

“There’s no such thing as breakfast soup!”

The three boys settle in to watch the debate. If nothing else, it’s entertaining, even if they have to eat the fallout.

#flufftober2023 #Wrong X #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu flufftober #breannasfluff #mywriting #lu wild #lu four #lu sky #lu warriors #lu twilight

[coconutdays]

drunk

s. my attempt at a mutual pining ??? slowburn??? with the Honored One, Gojo. obviously there will be other parts hehe

w.c. 3.4k

w. fem! reader , gojo! x reader , fluff! , angst! , slowburn! , ( I think the slowburn is lowk angsty in my opinion) I also didn't really proofread this, did this as my day went. also y/n’a cursed technique is basically like Wanda from marvels abilities, thought it would be cool

You're restless.

The soft bedsheets encircling you do nothing to soothe your itchy skin. there's pillows thrown everywhere across your room in hopes that less pillows mean more sleep. Your legs and arms have been sprawled in different angles and directions to try and cater to your sleep, but it's all useless--your head won't let you get a wink of rest.

Your heart rate rises the moment you feel any sort of sleep try to overcome you. It beats furiously to take away your breath and forces you to jump up for relief before your eyes close for those oh so peaceful hours you yearn for.

It's annoying,

Like satoru gojo.

And there you feel that annoying flutter in your heart again.

This was not how he was supposed to keep you up at night.

no, what--

fuck fuck fuck fuck

You flip onto your stomach, fisting at the bedsheets and screaming into the mattress, your body movement similar to that of a fish out of water.

it came out of nowhere one day, that itch for him.

He had popped up during one of your missions, mid-battle, might you add. He was seated in a tree, watching you do your work, adding witty commentary on the fight every now and then while he mostly talked about his plans for dinner. Whether feta cheese would be healthier than greek yogurt or if squid really tasted different than octopus.

It was offensive to your opponent--a quite special grade curse--that Gojo never deemed it necessary to enter the confines of your shared arena and even further when you started responding back to your white haired friend.

"Why don't you just leave that up to your chef, Satoru."

Unbeknownst to you, you were listening to him not looking, he smirked when the sentence left your mouth.

"Yeah, but I feel like making the decisions over my palette today. Feeling frisky, y'know?"

He always says stuff like that, it's been one of his trademarks for as long as you've known him, but for some reason it had your face heating up as you pulverized your special grade out of existence with one closing of your fist.

You had turned around after the fact, trying your best in those milliseconds to get rid of that random feverish symptoms before he popped up behind you.

Lo and behold, he's right next to you before you can speak again.

He's wearing his uniform, along with his ever so interesting choice of headwear, his blindfold. He towers over you, effortlessly, with his hands in his pockets and that stupid light lipped smile he always has.

You almost want to take a step back when those mere details cause your heart to race. It's extremely off-putting to you when it happens.

"Or should I just tell my chef to go ahead and make that wagyu steak he set aside for me yesterday? It's supposed to taste divine with some wine." He cocks his head to side, smile growing a bit wider.

You give him half-assed eye roll, resorting to flicking his forehead when you respond, "Completely up to you Chosen On-."

He had grabbed you by the wrist of the arm you used to poke at him, lifting up over your head and towards him, pulling you a little to him in the aftermath of the action.

"But that's why I'm asking you." He fake sighs, "I'm asking my friend for advice."

You in return, actually sigh, "If you let go of me, I'll tell you what to eat."

You should've told him to eat-

stop.

why why why why why why why why why

You've known him for so long without this feeling grabbing and pulling at you. It's so bothersome when you're alone, the temptation to reach out to him and send him a text for a singular smidge of interaction with him is debilitating.

And it's a whole other beast when you can interact with him.

The god-strength you pull off to act as if you don't want to hold hands with him and listen to him talk all day is exhausting.

Because it has to fade away soon right?

When you get up after failing to get a satisfactory amount of sleep that morning, there's a text from your anti-melatonin on your phone.

Satoru

you want some croissants?

And before you can even think of a response, your doorbell rings.

Classic.

You run to the door as you hastily put on your robe, the pajamas underneath are not something you'd want him to see you in.

One peek through the peephole and you see his silky white hair standing up, it makes you open the door without hesitance.

"Oh, " He smirks, a brown fancy bag in hand, "who kept you up?"

Gojo is wearing at the moment one of his slutty long sleeves, the ones where his collarbones and shoulders make an appearance, along with those shaded in glasses of his.

This time you actually do give him a good roll of your eyes and chuck the bag out of his grasp, "Nobody. I just didn't sleep well."

He follows behind you as you walk into your apartment and to your dining table.

"That'll explain the eyes. Then why the skimpy pjs?"

You jump up a little, rushing to flatten your robe near your ass.

"How did you see?!"

"I didn't, just a little guess is all."

The urge to kick him in the shins seems more appealing than your everlasting urge to kiss him the moment he blabbers that.

You siphon two plates from your cupboards with a small movement of your hand and set them on the table, all with an annoyed look on your face.

"You can start eating, I'm going to change so my privacy isn't invaded by you again." You huff, stomping all the way to your bedroom.

"Won't start without ya." Satoru chides, leaning back in the chair he was in.

He did, in fact, see your ass peeking out from your robe, the little twirl you did after you took the bag from him lifted the skirt of it up a little. It was just enough to see a bit of lace clinging to your skin. It was a pretty color on you.

But he wanted to save you the embarrassment and stray away from the acknowledgment between the both of you that he's seen you like that, even if it was a smidge of-

You were naked.

Not directly in front of him, no, you'd never do that.

Your door was slightly ajar, but even though it was behind him, the mirror across from him and within his line of sight was all exposing of you.

You were topless, your back completely bare to him as you hauled up your jeans and buttoned them up.

He stopped breathing and felt something get stuck in his throat.

The entirety of skin felt like it was on fire, from his scalp to the pads of his toes. You should have completely closed your door. he can't help but stare until he drags his eyes away from the sight.

He won't even allow himself to touch the thoughts or feelings again, forcing himself to look out the window instead of through the mirror while he waits for you to change.

"What kind of croissants did you get?"

You're walking across the room and starting towards the seat next to him.

"Chocolate and pistachio." He exhales through a smile, as if he'd been thinking of something else before you asked him.

"But you like almond better." You cock your head to the side in curiosity as you start to open the bag. Chocolate and pistachio were only your favorites, and although he could eat them, you knew he loved his almond croissants.

"What can I say, I felt like switching it up today." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together and laying his head on them before he took the croissant you were offering him.

You gulped down the bite you had just taken and proceeded to ask him another question.

"So what brought you to be near my place?"

You wish you could see beyond his glasses when he turns his head to you and shrugs, "Looking for buildings with adequate cursed spirits for my students. Thought I'd pass by and get breakfast with you on my way."

"Yeah thanks for the heads up." You grumble a little, a little smile and a shake of your head following up.

"Wanna come with?" He speaks through a mouthful of croissant

You start to snark a little, "Do my job without any pay? Sounds like-"

"I'll get you lunch from the onigiri place you said was only for special occasions and then dinner at the restaurant you said had entrees pricier than your electricity bill." He smiled

You blinked up at him, it being cute to him a fact that he chose to brush over by waving his card in front of you, "Being the Chosen One has its benefits."

Which is why you found yourself walking through Tokyo with Satoru the entire day.

You'll admit, you wanted to say yes even if there were no financial benefits to it. He was a benefit enough, time with him was, but it wasn't within your best interest of hiding your feelings to say yes without missing a beat.

On the other hand, it hurt a little, to know you'd be spending the entire day with someone who makes your heart flutter and your eyes unable of holding eye contact. It hurt more that you knew the time together with him would strengthen the feelings your heart held for him.

Fuck it though. At least you get to be with him today.

He let you walk a bit in front of him the moment the both of you left the apartment. It was his best bet of keeping his eyes on you, knowing you were there with him in the swarm of people as opposed to the alternative of receiving that reassurance through the warmth of your hand on his. His six eyes do prevent any mishaps either way, but the domesticity of it was calming for him.

But your back was to him.

It gave him flashback thoughts to this morning, your body practically bare to him, the underwear you had on leaving little to the imagination.

He had to force his heart to beat normally.

"Hey Satoru, that building over there has loads of cursed energy. Wanna check it out."

"Yeah." He smiles nonchalantly, making sure his eyes only look at the top of your head and nothing else.

Both of you don't even need to enter the building when you get in front of it. A simple lift of Satoru's shades and he smiles knowingly.

"Now that one's gonna be fun for Makki."

"Yea?"

"Absolutely." He confirms confidently, placing the frames over his eyes again.

After marking down the address of the building, the two of you proceeded to look around for more spots within the city. And not that either of you two knew, but Satoru was scaring off every male within a 20 feet radius during the time spent looking. His eyes were hidden by the specs perched on his nose, but the animosity of an aura he held towards any ogling eyes at you were enough to frighten them off.

He wasn't aware of it, if it weren't any obvious to him after doing it countless other times while hanging out with you. Had he been self aware, he would've muted that part of his feelings too. If any, it gave him more peace. He didn't know it gave him peace, but what he was sure of was that the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up if a guy came up to you.

You, on the other hand, couldn't really notice when you only cared about the guy walking right behind you. All other eyes were white noise to you.

To the eyes of those around you, the both of you looked like any other couple walking around Tokyo together. Satoru was never a step too far behind you and followed you as you walked without never looking back, as if you knew he'd never leave your side as you guided the path.

But you weren't a couple, you were just friends.

The former statement needing a reminder when dinner came around.

Your waiter had just taken down both of your orders at the dimly lit restaurant Satoru had mentioned in the morning. It was on the top floor of a skyscraper and the sun had just set, setting a slightly tense ambience for you--and Satoru, but he couldn't confront that thought for himself. Satoru was very good at remaining neutral for his own benefit.

"Ah and what wine will you and the missus be enjoying tonight?"

Oh

"Giacomo Conterno Monfortino please." Gojo smiled politely as he closed his menu and picked up yours to hand it to the waiter.

Right.

It was a simple mistake of an assumption from the waiter, it didn't need the attention of either of you. You had to tell yourself that.

"You like this place so far?" Satoru asks with a cocky smile, leaning forward and resting his head on his palm.

"It's beautiful." You say stifling a small smile, "worth all my hard work today."

For a second, Gojo takes a small second too long to respond to you. He seems stuck in a thought during that time before he acts like he normally does.

"Definitely. I could tell you were about to break out in a sweat when you checked if Zara had any cursed spirits in their clothes after my eyes said otherwise."

"Sometimes flukes happen. I thought you knew that." You raised your hands up in defense, winking at him in the process.

His breath hitched milliseconds within you doing that and he started to say something when-

"And here is your Giacomo Conterno Monfortino."

Your waiter had come around with the wine Gojo ordered, serving it in both of your glasses before leaving the bottle there for the both of you to serve yourselves again if necessary.

You took a sip immediately after the waiter left and gestured the glass at Satoru, "You should take a sip, it's really good. But what were you going to say?"

Satoru leaned back in his seat, making it look as classy as possible considering the status of the restaurant you were in, and cradled the glass to his chest.

"Nothing really. Just banter."

After taking two sips, Gojo didn't care to drink anymore. He called for a glass of water when your dishes came around. It was nothing new to you, he wasn't much of a drinker. Being the strongest meant never saving space for vulnerability and the inhibitions of the drink would subdue his abilities to being low quality.

You, however, had already been two glasses in by the time you had finished your small bowl of soup and started cutting your steak into bite sized pieces.

"Someone's hungry." A teasing voice poked at you

You looked up from your chewing on the steak while cutting up another piece to eat and made eye contact with bright blue irises, lips curving upwards beneath them.

"And drunk."

You sat up straight in your seat, having accidentally been hunched over to devour your food. Unfortunately the quick movement cause your head to spin a little.

You couldn't say you weren't drunk, when in fact you were.

"I didn't think it through when I served myself that second glass." You lightly groaned, looking at the ceiling because looking at the former would make the wine further bring you down. Satoru's eyes would make the dizziness worse and get rid of all your inhibitions.

You had to calm yourself down.

"Why didn't you stop me?" You tried to deadpan at him when you gathered enough courage to face him again.

Tried.

You did deadpan at him, but it felt as if someone dipped your face in flames the moment he kept the eye contact with you.

"I wasn't going to tell you what to do." He shrugged, haughtily putting a bite of his chicken into his mouth.

"Ass." You murmur as you sadly take another bite of your steak.

It didn't take much longer for that second glass of wine to hit you even further. Satoru had asked the waiter for some water for you too after expressing your distress for him not stopping you any sooner, so you weren't going to get any worse--too much. Both of you had been quiet, more so you, the alcohol had made you oddly focus on finishing your dinner, until the waiter brought around the dessert.

It was a shared bowl of some fancy peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream, two spoons on either sides for either of you to take.

"This is huge Toru."

"What?"

"This is huge. I don't know if I'll be able to even eat half. You were right about the steak being too much earlier." You pouted, gathering a spoonful of peach cobbler and ice cream to feed yourself before you looked at Satoru with the biggest doe eyes he's seen from you.

He stares at you while getting his own spoonful.

"I'll help you. And even if we don't finish we could probably ask to take it to go, they probably have small coolers for something like this."

"Yea and then they'll think we're dating or married or something. Like a couple saving it to eat together later."

"Come again?"

You were slouched in your seat, trying your best to keep eating. The alcohol obviously lowering your guard both physically and mentally.

"When the waiter called me missus." Your lips curving downwards

"It doesn't matter if they think we're dating." He reassures, concentrated on swirling around his piece of peach and ice cream too much "It's just to go."

There were no worries in finishing the peach cobbler and ice cream you soon found out. Gojo, although not drunk, ate the dessert as if he was intoxicated. You stared at him throughout all of it, admiring how cute he looked even though he shared the same appearance you did when you stress ate.

The only worry that existed after, was the walk to your apartment. You two were obviously safe, more so you, it was Satoru Gojo walking you home after all, but it didn't mean that the space between you two was.

You hugged his arm to you the moment you felt a slight gust of wind. An action you didn't overanalyze because you weren't really thinking much at all. You knew you had feelings for him, but he didn't and clinging onto his arm because you were cold wouldn't let him know that. At least drunk you was simple enough to think that way. Had sober you been here, she would have flung you away from him.

He hadn't done or said anything to let you know it bothered him the entire walk to your place. He was oddly calm, not to say that he never was, he was always calm, but witty about it. He wasn't being witty right now. He only really spoke to tell you to watch your step when needed and to answer your question on how much time there was left to get to your place.

When you got to your apartment, you easily swiped your key card on the door and unlocked it.

"Thank you, Satoru." You gave him a close lipped smile with sleepy eyes.

"It's what I'm here for." He answers without a thought, shrugging like its second nature to be this nonchalant.

"Yeah?"

The second Satoru looks back to you after letting his eyes wander to your lips, your eyes look different.

"What." He breathes.

You keep looking at him, as if you hadn't heard him. Your only response being your breathing.

He steps forward without knowing, subconsciously trying to close the space between you. It's when he's about to lean into you that you speak up again, taking a step back.

"I think it's time for me to sleep." You bite your lip awkwardly, looking between the wall behind him and his eyes because the thought of enduring his gaze on you for more than two seconds was agonizing.

"Right." He straightens up

"I'll see you later." Your eyes get watery from holding back a small yawn, "Have a good night Satoru."

"Sleep well y/n"

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo slowburn #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo satoru x reader

[sunkissedbedard]

nhl relationship alphabet | jack hughes

a/n: hi my loves ! here is my first post on this blog, it is just a simple little thing i put together for my beloved jack hughes, but i hope you enjoy !!

warnings: suggestive content

tags: jack hughes x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o?

jack is super appreciative of you and the relationship you share, so he makes every effort to make you aware of how much he loves you. he’s not into grand gestures, but little sentiments like a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a handwritten note showing his adoration for you, making the quick stop after a game to pick up your favourite dessert; even if you consider it out of his way. he also is super affectionate, always kissing your forehead, cheek, hand, neck, shoulder, anywhere he can to show you his love physically. he will also always touch you, not in a suggestive way when it would be deemed inappropriate, but when in a group setting, having his hand on the small of your back or waist, around your shoulder, or wrapping both his arms around you as he sits and you stand leaning into his warmth and he hugs you. of course when it’s just the two of you, he makes you very aware of how much he loves you, being attentive, caring and praising you in all the ways you deserve. he also always verbally expresses his love to you, telling you how much he loves you and how much you’ve made his life better, how much it means to him when he sees you in his jersey in the stands watching him play.

b - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed?

jack and you had already known each other before things were more serious. you had mutual friends, and coincidentally always ended up seeing each other in group settings. it was almost as if there was an invisible string pulling you two together, having each of you appear unexpectedly, but neither of you were complaining. as soon as jack had met you, he instantly knew there was something about you, you were different and it was a good thing. jack was eager to get to know you, and after that, you just had to win him over even further with your personality. you’re compassionate, caring, and thoughtful, always making small remarks when seeing each other after some time and making jack blush and think to himself: she remembers?

of course you would remember, he wasn’t the type of person you would forget easily. just something about him spoke out to you and said, “he’s the one”, and so when he pulled you aside the one evening at the local pub with his teammates, their wives and girlfriends, and your own friends, him asking you on a mini golf date with just the two of you, there was no way you could pass up on the opportunity.

the mini golf turned into going to the pier and eating frozen yogurt, which turned into a dinner date. about a month later, when jack had surprised you with a basket of gifts that included pair of tickets to your favourite artist, you found a little slip of paper at the bottom of the wicker basket that read, turn around. as you shifted your stance to face jack, you found the boy holding a large bouquet of your favourite flowers and a sign that asked you if he could be your boyfriend.

nothing drastically changed for you both once you made it official, if anything, the bond you shared continued to flourish and you each entered a new stage of your lives that was filled with so much love and happiness, you couldn’t be more grateful for each other.

c - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open close, or would they rather keep the mystery?

as time progressed in your relationship, you each grew more comfortable with one another. the first night jack spent over at your place, you could tell the nerves were coursing through his veins and altering his nervous system. he would stumble over his feet as he trailed behind you like a lost puppy wherever you went throughout the house. when it came time to head to bed, jack had relaxed and found himself behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist, inhaling your scent as you brushed your teeth in the ensuite bathroom. you were nervous yourself; this was the first time a boy you were serious about was staying the night, so you wanted to make a good impression.

as the two of you crawled into your bed and jack pulled you into his chest, you couldn’t help but feel your heart warm for how much love and admiration you had for the boy in front of you. you brushed his curls out of his face that covered his soft skin, which earned a laugh from the man you love. jack had begun kissing all over your faces, leaving small pecks of affection against your skin, making you endlessly giggle. needless to say, those small pecks became a little deeper, a little more intimate, and a little more steamy to end your night.

now, after being well established, jack could have the messiest of morning hair, or say whatever weird quirk came to his mind in the moment, and you wouldn’t have any problem in the world with him. he was your little dork and you were glad each of you were able to be true to yourselves and still love each other, and that was what was most important to you.

d - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer?

dates are essential to jack. since he’s not always at home, constantly travelling and having a busy schedule, as do you, quality time and making up for the distance you share is what keeps such a healthy balance for each of you.

whether it’s going for dinner at one of your favourite restaurants, or even just staying in and making your own heart-shaped pizza and having a movie night, anything and everything you do together is important.

if jack had to choose which was his favourite type of date, he would definitely choose staying in and finding little activities to do with you, rather than being in the spotlight and putting you in an environment that can be overwhelming. you don’t mind the occasional venture out into the city, or if you travel with him for a game, going to experience what’s popular in the city you’re currently in. jack is more so a homebody, preferring a wine and paint night, or binge-watching a reality tv show and gossiping over the latest drama on the bachelor.

e - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question?

it was a bit of a longshot when it popped in his head, but he knew from the moment he met you that he was going to marry you. given that it’s a big step in anyone’s life, he knew it was going to take time to make it the best experience and milestone in your lives. it would be during the off-season, when his time and commitment was fully dedicated to you and his family, and he knew you both shared the similarity of being family-oriented, so it would involve being surrounded by your friends and loved ones.

you would be somewhere with a beach on vacation with each of your families, exploring the country and enjoying the quality time together as a present courtesy of jack. it would be on one of the last nights of your trip, after a sunset dinner with your families (who were all in the loop, barely being able to handle the anticipation), and as everyone began to excuse themselves back to their hotels, jack took the opportunity to guide you down the path from the venue to the attached section of the coast of the island, hand in hand before letting yours go and having you lead. when you turned the corner of the path that were filled with trees and greenery on each side of the walkway, you were welcomed to a display of rocks and candles placed so intricately to form the words, “will you marry me?”. confused, you would turn around to look at your boyfriend who was already lowered onto one knee, pulling out a box from his pocket and revealing an engagement ring so beautiful you could drop to your knees and cry.

“are you serious?” you question in disbelief, bringing your hand to cover your opened mouth that fell in shock. jack couldn’t hold back a grin as he watched your eyes light up and fill with tears. he nodded slowly as you approached him to view the ring.

“y/n, it’s cliche, but- since the day i first met you, i knew i was gonna marry you. i knew you were the one. i would close my eyes and imagine my future, and every thought i had, you were in it. you’re painting my future every moment i’m with you, and i want to make my future our reality. so will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?” jack spoke, tears filling his own eyes as his voice shook and he locked eyes with you, meaning every word that fell off his tongue.

you couldn’t bring yourself to form words, only beginning to let the tears fall and nod, falling to your knees in the sand to be at level with your now future husband. your foreheads rested against each other as you both chuckled through your nerves, and as jack pulled back, you watched him reach for your left hand a delicately place the ring on your finger. your gazes met each other with the biggest grin on your faces, before he reached for your face, cupping your cheek and passionately meeting your lips, taking your scent, your taste, you, in.

f - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship?

jack’s fundamental part of your relationship is communication. not only to avoid anything being lost in translation, but being able to express his feelings to and about you is crucial to him. of course there had been a few rough patches when you didn’t always see eye-to-eye, or something sparked a meaningless argument, but what he loved about you and your relationship is how you fulfilled his need for communication, and he loved that each of you are able to take a step back from things and realize it was just in the heat of the moment.

g - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

any way and every way he can. whether it’s words of affirmation, physically showing you by kissing or hugging you, or among other ways…

he also will make it known to everyone outside of the relationship know about how much he loves you. he boasts about you to his team and training staff, always mentioning little things about you, or telling others about the exciting things your doing because he’s always just so proud of you.

h - home. a random domestic headcanon.

jack and you spending time with his family in michigan over the summer, after a long day out on the lake, hair dried by the hot sun with the lake water adding a satisfying grain, your skin also a little dry from the water and colour added to your complexion from the sun. you assisted in preparing dinner by cutting an assortment of vegetables with ellen in their kitchen as the setting sun bled through the windows and curtains, while the boys found themselves outside around the barbeque, cooking burgers and hotdogs. everyone gathered outside on the patio and enjoyed the food, laughing and reminiscing over the fun and accelerating activities from earlier in the day.

you would then insist on cleaning the table, despite ellen’s protests that you were their guest, which you then argued you were family so you further insisted.

after dinner was cleaned, everyone grabbed another round of drinks and you found yourself cuddled up against jack’s side in the outdoor livingroom couch, surrounding the fireplace that quinn began setting up. jack had his arm resting behind your back with a beer in his other hand, casually taking a swig every so often, and when he felt you shiver against him, he immediately looked over to see if you were okay, popping up off the cushion and running inside to grab you his hoodie as the sun slowly set.

you spent the rest of the evening talking about your lives and funny, joyful stories, and by the end of the night, jack led you upstairs to you shared room, hand-in-hand, quickly closing the door behind you before pressing your back delicately against the wood and finding your lips with his own.

you would smile into the kiss, softly pushing against his broad chest to part your lips and simply look up at your beloved boyfriend who then began again reaching down to kiss your jawline and neck as his hands found your waist.

“i love you so much,” he said in between kisses to your skin, “thank you for everything and making me feel like i am the luckiest man in the world. you don’t know how much it means to me to see you with my family.” he softly smiled.

you couldn’t help but shine a bright smile at his words, only responding, “i love you so much more, jack”, before reaching up on your toes and linking your arms around his neck and meeting his lips for yet another kiss.

i - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it?

jack had been unlucky with relationships before he met you. it was almost as if each relationship repeated itself, where many things were lost in translation, different outcomes were wanting to be reached, but when he met you, and when he came to realize what a blessing you had become in his life, he knew his love for you would be endless.

j - jokes. who's the funny one?

you’re each your own type of funny. jack tends to crack jokes in a way to make your eyes roll and fight the urge to giggle at how unserious he can be. whether it’s making a “that’s what he/she said” joke or tickling you mercilessly until you’re kicking your feet trying to fight the immense amount of serotonin rushing through your body. jack also finds it funny when you make an attempt to be mad at him when you don’t get the last oreo from the package, but his efforts to cheer you up inevitably work, much to your dismay, always turning into an endless laughter session.

jack also thinks you are the funniest person he knows, besides himself. whether it’s your under-the-breath comments when you’re in a mood, or simply just crack a joke here in there, he loves how light-hearted and joyful the dynamic you share is.

k - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type?

jack kisses with so much intimacy and compassion. he loves kissing you. if there was one thing other than hockey that he could and would choose to do for the rest of his life, it would be kissing you. he loves how soft your lips feel against his, how meaningful a simple peck can be for him, and how he’ll surprise you any time of the day with a kiss.

he also loves kissing you when you two are in bed. he’ll always start with kissing you, taking his time with you until you both are ready, and when you give the go-ahead, moreover when you start to whine for him to do something, he’ll slowly and sloppily drag his lips down your jawline, onto your neck, leaving wet kisses and breathing heavily into your ear when he plants one right below your earlobe, making you squirm underneath him and reach for his defined shoulders.

his favourite type of kiss, is the anticipated kiss after coming home from an away game. it’s always filled with such passion and longingness from the time spent apart, and it makes him cherish the moments he has with you, because he really doesn’t know what he would do without you.

l - longing. who's the clingy one? how are they with long distance?

jack is the clingy one between the two of you, but he would never admit it. it would bruise his masculine ego and being the “strong, confident male of the relationship”. but when you answer his facetime call while he’s away in another city for a game, he immediately stretches out his words, adding a hint of a whine to every syllable.

he makes you aware that he misses you, sending you small texts throughout the day, saying he can’t wait to come home and see you, or how he can’t wait to kiss you (he really does love kissing you), or even how he’ll see something while he’s travelling that reminds him of you and he has to immediately show you.

and the first night he gets home from being away, he is like a big kid who doesn’t want to leave their parent on the first day of kindergarten, attaching himself to your side and having to have at least some sort of touch to any part of your body. then when it comes to heading to bed, you have to prepare yourself to be comfortable before he climbs into bed and attaches himself onto your side like an amoeba.

m - marriage. do they wanna get married?

1000% yes. again, he knew it may have been cliche or a bit of an overstatement, but he knew from the moment things became serious with you, that he was going to marry you.

n - nicknames. what ones do they like?

jack again, wouldn’t ever admit it, but he loves when you’re in a goofy mood and refer to him as j-dawg. to anyone else, he would be annoyed if they called him j-dawg as it was something his brothers tease him with. or when you’re in a bit of a rush and call him “j”. he also loves when you call him babe, or my love. the little things matter.

o - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key?

his career ever since the start has been in the spotlight, so when it comes to his personal life and relationship, he chooses to avoid putting his loved ones in an overwhelming environment, including you. that doesn’t mean he avoids showing you off and making it known to the world how much he loves you, but he is more on the low-key side of PDA, choosing to keep his personal life private. like going on dates, he’d much rather prefer a candlelit bubble bath with a shared bottle of wine.

p - picture. what's their favourite picture of them and their s.o?

his favourite picture of you is a series of pictures that were taken during your first trip with his family to the lakehouse:

q - quintessential. what is one they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what's a deal-breaker for them?

he is extremely lucky to have you and it so grateful to have him in your life, so the only deal-breakers would be the extremes.

t - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them?

it’s something up in the air, neither of you have mentioned it to each other, so it’s not a yes, but it’s not a no. it depends on what that tattoo would be and your own opinion on the topic.

u - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult?

generally, jack is extremely understanding, however there are times when you both don’t see eye to eye, or just don’t agree which is normal, so sometimes it’s a bit more difficult to come to agreements on how to resolve an issue, and he can be stubborn, but for the most part you’re able to work through it which both of you appreciate.

v - vases. do they buy flowers?

yes, it is one of his favourite things to do. he believes that a girl can never have enough flowers, and so by the time one bouquet is coming to an end of its liveliness, there is already a new one replacing it.

w - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down?

depending on his career, he still wants to take time to fully live life by your side and experience new things with you before things wind down, but it’s always something he can envision happening with you.

x - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories?

no horror stories here, just exhausting relationships that never fulfilled him like you do.

y - you. favourite thing about their partner?

jack loves everything about you, but he especially loves your eyes, and the sparkle in them whenever you both catch yourselves staring at one another, having moments where words don’t need to be spoken in order to tell each other what you’re feeling.

z - zeal. how excitable are they? who's the calm one?

jack is relatively calm, however when he’s around his brothers? the testosterone surges and suddenly you feel like a babysitter to three 12-year-old boys who are hopped up on sugar. you’re calm as well, but every once in a while, you’ll get enthusiastic over one of your interests.

a/n: feel free to check out my writing FAQ’s & request something! thanks for reading 🫶🏻✨

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #nj devils #new jersey devils

[trashpandato]

Romance

Earth customs are weird. 

Kara knows this; has known it for many years. And sure, she’s spent all those years trying to learn, trying to understand what makes humans tick so she could mimic it successfully enough to not stand out. 

“Fake it til you make it”, Alex used to say, implying that if Kara spent enough time pretending, human behaviour would eventually become second nature to her.

And fake it she did. Some Earth customs were easy enough to adopt. Like wide smiles that cover up her pain, the concept of comfort foods or all-you-can-eat buffets, or even humans’ tendency to find excuses to turn any random day into some kind of celebration - Hump Day, Tax Deadline Day, Polar Bear Plunge Day, National Frozen Yogurt Day. (She’s half-convinced that most of these are inventions by Alex to confuse her, but she celebrates National Gummy Worm Day on July 15th anyway.)

But if she’s honest, a lot of the things that humans do, their customs, their rituals, still seem a little strange to Kara. Even after years of trying to understand.

Chatting up strangers, for example. On Krypton, interactions with someone not known to a person would have required some sort of intermediary, an introduction through a trusted person. If Kara had even dared to walk up to a stranger to talk to them, she would have faced discipline not just from her family but also from the broader community. When she first landed on Earth, she relied on Eliza or Alex to make introductions and felt intensely uncomfortable when kids at school would randomly talk to her. It took her a long time to believably mimic these kinds of human interactions, and if she’s honest, she still prefers an official introduction over just chatting up people out of the blue. (It’s why she was happy to tag along with Clark for her first encounter with Lena.)

Or there’s the act of blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Extinguishing light instead of keeping it burning as a means of celebration. The first time Eliza prompted Kara to blow out her candles, Kara was horrified and it took a lot of gentle reassurances from her adoptive mother to even consider partaking in this peculiar human tradition. To this day, Kara prefers her candles away from her cake and to leave them burning for as long as safely possible.

And then there are all the gestures associated with romance. With Krypton’s system of arranged pairings based on compatibility across a number of important factors, there was no need to wine and dine anyone. She could remember her parents showing affection for each other, but there was never any ritualized approach to romantic moments. Humans, on the other hand, humans have rules about dates, about which flowers are appropriate to give to someone and when, about who pays the bill at the fancy restaurant, about slow-dancing and little gifts and how many feelings to reveal and when. 

It’s a lot to keep track of and confusing, and all the romance movies in the world cannot prepare Kara for her first official date with Lena.

She shows up with plumerias, because she knows Lena likes those and she knows, knows, that she’s supposed to bring flowers. But then Lena has tears in her eyes as soon as Kara hands them over, and she’s also wearing this dress that hugs her body in ways that make Kara’s higher brain function fizzle out. So she doesn’t protest when Lena pulls her inside with her hands fisted into the lapels of Kara’s suit jacket, follows Lena’s lead when she pushes her against the kitchen island and kisses her senseless, and finds herself naked and sweaty in Lena’s bed not long after that.

When Kara’s stomach rumbles a couple of hours later and Lena calls to have some food delivered, Lena chuckles.

“We kind of did this all backwards.”

Kara frowns. “How so?”

“Well,” Lena leans in and presses her lips close to Kara’s ear, making her shiver, “usually, the clothes come off after the fancy dinner.”

“You humans have a lot of rules about romance,” Kara huffs, and Lena laughs.

“I suppose we do. But I’m happy to break every single one of them with you, Kara Zor-El.”

#supercorp #kara x lena #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober

[lorelune]

braised

|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 3.2k  || ao3 || previous + next ->

The Stellaron Hunters and their newest prize settle in and find routine.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: HELLO >:3c this lil story has me gripped!! this piece is meant to be read after "scrap metal" but can be read as a standalone. mind the tags and enjoy 💕

CW: dark content, captive/pet reader, violence, implied/partially depicted physical abuse, force-feeding, general talk about food and eating, thoughts of violence toward the reader

"They didn't eat again."

Silver Wolf tosses the metal bowl on the counter with a frown. It’s full, heaped with eggs, kixi wafers, and some yogurt-based sauce. It’s untouched, sauce gelatinized from being out in the open air.

Kafka clicks her tongue from the cockpit, pausing her scrolling. Her gaze flicks up, "Not a bite?"

"Nope." Silver Wolf frowns and fidgets. "They didn't even look at me when I gave them their lunch either."

"They haven't eaten since the day before yesterday then. That’s no good." Kafka sounds concerned, but there's an edge to it.

Blade feels antsy. Out of his skin. He doesn't know why.

“They haven’t been drinking much either.” Silver Wolf frowns. “They’ll shrivel up and die at this rate." 

Kafka nods, "That’s more than likely their intention, even if it's a long and foolish way to die. That’s a shame. I thought they'd be better than this."

Blade drums his stiff fingers over the hilt of Shard Sword. He hardly remembers summoning it. 

"Bladie, dear? Try and convince them to have a bite or two tonight." Kafka's attention almost drifts back to her phone before she meets his eyes. Her own are clear, pupils intact. "Be careful, though. Hungry pets will still bite the hand that feeds them."

Blade doesn't reply with anything other than a jerky nod. He ferries himself across the ship to a padded training room and shreds two dozen practice dummies until they're nothing more than piles of polymer leather and filler.

...

Kafka had implemented a rotation. A 'feeding schedule' to acclimate you to your new environment, and get you used to your new comrades. You’re pricklier than she originally anticipated, but she doesn't seem concerned.

(If anything, she seems... delighted. She has a spring to her step that she usually doesn't. She leaves your room glowing.)

It’s Blade's turn to bring you dinner. Your meal is piled into the same metal bowl. Heaps of rice, covered in a sticky sauce with chunks of meat and veg. It’s still steaming as he walks silently to your cell— room. cell. He's not sure.

He undoes each lock (seven) and enters your room without any announcement.

The room is... less destroyed than it was yesterday. When Blade brought you lunch the day before, your mattress had been dragged onto the floor, sheets torn to shreds and spread around the room. You’d thrown a book at his head when he'd entered.

(Which he caught and gave back to you. You looked terrified when he got at all close to you.)

Blade didn’t like it. And he isn't sure why.

Today, you're less frantic. Instead, you’re balled up on your mattress, tucked in a corner with your knees up. Your head is down. You only flinch when Blade enters, but don't regard him otherwise.

Blade's frown deepens.

"Dinner," he says, and sets the food on your nightstand. Kafka has replaced the diffuser you broke the day prior. A new one pumps out an herbal-scented mist. "Eat it."

"Just leave it,” you reply, voice scratchy and raw. You rarely speak to him.

"No. Eat it now."

"I will later."

"You won't. You aren't eating."

"And what's it to you?" You unfurl just a fraction and shoot him a glare. It’s angry. vitriolic and guarded. (But a scared stray will bear its teeth and bite, won't they?)

(What is it to Blade? Other than Kafka's order. There’s something there. There has been something there since he saw you muzzled and dead-eyed, and Blade's always half-aware of it. How it refracts and shudders and fills him with such intense unease. He knows the feeling— recognizes it like the scent of an old lover. But he does not like it. It does not feel like it is his.)

He’s struck with the particular urge to throw you against a wall and watch your skull splatter against the metal paneling.

He doesn't. Because his mara isn't that uncontrollable, not now anyway. Instead, he frowns at your scowl.

"You'll die if you don't eat."

"Ah, and if I die, you'll lose an asset, right? I'm not stupid, I know how these things work." You sound... almost petulant. Blade does not know how to approach you, or it, or this attitude.

"You'll die. You shouldn't die. You should eat and live."

"Fuck you." You snap at him, fist balling up in the sheets at your side. You've picked your nails short and raw. "Fuck you."

Blade doesn't know what to do.

He pushes the bowl closer to you on the nightstand before departing.

Kafka catches him as he heads to the training rooms (again, because he needs to shatter a few holograms with his bare fists if he wants to feel close to sane in the next few hours.)

"Any luck, lovely?" Kafka's expression is kind. She must already know.

"No."

Kafka sighs, and shakes her head. "I'll take care of it, Bladie. I suppose we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

...

Kafka is the one to bring you breakfast the next morning. Blade does not normally keep track of Kafka's morning routine, because she is insane, but considering it involves you, he's more keen to it. Kafka prepares a light breakfast of garlic and shash rice, and secondarily, a shake of greens and nutrient powder.

(He... he thinks he knows the substance. Recognizes the acrid, must-driven smell of it, and remembers how awful it tastes. Like bile mixed with metal shavings. Who knows where Kafka acquires it from. He has smudged out memories of choking it down when Kafka first pulled him out of a crater, covered in blood and scarred— but not dead. Never. Never, never dead— )

Blade fractiously goes to your room and waits outside your door. Kafka is still inside when he arrives, speaking to you in that sweet, syrupy tone that drips into muscle and bone like molten metal.

"You need to eat, darling."

"Fuck you—"

"The more you fight, the harder this will be. Why don't you be good and let me help?"

"Don’t fucking touch me—!"

There’s the muffled sound of a struggle, which Blade assumes isn’t much of a struggle because Kafka is far stronger than she looks. Blade leans against the wall, next to your door. He can feel vibrations of a fight in the soles of his shoes through the floor. The thump of a body hitting the wall echoes.

Blade hears crying. You’re crying.

"Oh, tears? I’ve hardly done anything."

"You’re fucking monsters. Just let me go—!"

"You know that won't happen. Play nice.”

"Don't—!"

You sob, probably, and there's another sharp sound of flesh on steel. Blade would've flinched if he wasn’t an abomination.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart. The sooner you give in, the easier this is. This doesn't need to be difficult."

"Get off of me—!"

More struggling. Blade closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. Kafka is ruthless in getting what she wants. She knows how to pry people apart, pick at their inside, and pull strings until they fracture. It is why Elio is such a fan of hers. It is why Blade keeps her close, as she knows the delicate, bowstring dance of keeping his mara in check.

He wonders what Kafka sees in you.

(He wonders what he sees in you. You're nothing like— like— who? Who are you so different from?)

Blade has a headache.

The sounds echoing from your room dissolve into muffled sobs and the occasional sharp cough. A gag. Inhaling and what must be your fist beating against the metallic paneling of the floor. He hears Kafka hush you, over and over. Quietly praising you after each gag and retch.

Blade's not sure how long it goes on before things feel still and quiet.

The sound of a kiss, audible, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"... F-fuck you.

"Such a filthy mouth. Do you need me to wash your mouth out with soap? I'm happy too."

"Wait, don’t— no—“

Blade realizes his shoulders have hiked up. He forces them to lower. You scream and fight just feet away, really. All that separates you is seven locks.

Kafka seems to be handling things. The sounds continues, and become dull background noise. Shouts and pants fade into his thoughts as they get sap-sticky.

(Someone beloved, something far away. Bitter liquor on each other’s lips. Blade can’t recall the name.)

(A comet with a tail burning yellow. It is cold. A blade, driven into his chest. A blade stabbed into his eye. A blade put sidelong through his skull. A blade splitting his throat. Cold, cold, cold, cold.)

(Do you know cold? Do you know how frostbite turns flesh black? Do you know necrosis? What pain do you know?)

Blade, startlingly, does not want you to know pain. He wants you to eat your meals.

Kafka exits, almost startling him. She does not look surprised to see him hovering. She rearms the locks and glances at him from the corner of her eye.

“Down, loverboy. A scared dog will bite.”

“Do not call me that.” 

"Alright, alright,” she laughs and her grin grows sharper. “I’ll be taking care of their meals for the next few days. Listen, grab a medkit, the poor thing needs it. Though, I’ll let them hurt for a while first.”

Kafka walks off, and Blade follows at her heels. There are indentations in Kafka's gloves-- half-moon bite marks of teeth.

He decides he is going to break his own fingers, maybe. He can watch them heal back into place.

It’s meditative.

...

Several days pass with your ‘new routine’. Kafka handles each meal. Blade stays away from your room. The entire wing you’re located in feels nuclear. He stays in the training room. Throws himself at matted walls until his shoulders dislocate, only to pop them back into place to repeat the cycle.

He makes a point to check the kitchen after each of your meal times. There’s always an empty dish, a clean plate. A chunky-looking film left on a glass in the sink. Kafka is diligent, Blade doesn’t doubt this. 

The whole thing fills him with unease.

He asks Kafka to wipe his memory, but she denies him. She’s in the cockpit, swiveling in her seat.

“You don’t need that yet, Bladie. Give it some time.”

“But—”

“Discomfort isn’t mara suffocation, dear.”

“You’re patronizing me.”

She sizes him up, sighing, “Listen to me, keep it together. You’re alright. How about this, you can feed your pet starting tomorrow for lunch. Would that make you feel better?”

It would. He’s not sure why.”

“It would.”

Kafka looks pleased with the outcome of the conversation. She tells Blade to get some rest, pats his cheek, which does take the edge off the mara rooting around in his psyche for purchase. 

Blade takes a long route through the ship to his chambers. A deliberate path that brings him in front of your door. He doesn’t dare to enter, only listen. It’s late, you could be sleeping given the hour— but Blade can hear you shuffling around. Grumbling to yourself. One of your feet is dragging on the floor as you walk. Blade wonders how it was injured. 

He departs after hearing the shifting of your sheets, and the light under your door goes out.

(He feels insane. Insane in a way that isn’t mara-ridden, which is more terrifying. He knows the gnawing beast of Abundance that crawls around inside his skull and bones, he doesn’t know madness that has burrowed itself between his ribs. It feels light, like the carbonation bubbles in the bottled soda back on the Luofu. His palms sweat when he becomes aware of it with each thought of you.)

(Maybe he’ll try tearing out his organs again. That could fix it.)

Blade returns to his room and paces, before stripping and climbing into bed.

It’s only when he’s half-asleep that he realizes he’s hard.

He’s not sure why. 

...

Lunch is some takeout. It scalds his hands through the bowl he heaps it into. Braised trelk ribs with scallion and carrot, ladled over a bed of chewy-looking noodles.

"Bladie," Kafka tells him from the cockpit. She glances at him with a curling smile. "Be careful, they're sensitive."

Blade does not know how to be... careful. Not like how Kafka is implying he thinks anyway.

Silver Wolf snorts from her seat, speaking through a bite of noodle, "You’re asking a human-shaped hydrokenia bomb to be 'careful'?"

"Blade's a good boy, I'm sure he'll do great." Kafka's eyes are that spatial, nebula magenta. He feels pleasantly high when she looks at him. "Won’t you?"

"Yes."

Kafka looks pleased, "Listen, take your meal too. Eating with them will get them comfortable."

Silver Wolf raises an eyebrow, "Is that really a good idea?"

"I think so. Blade can handle it if they get testy."

She looks at him with a grin that's collapsed empires and immolated planets. Blade leaves the room with two bowls in his hands.

When he arrives at your cell— room. It's your room. He unlocks the locks methodically and enters without a greeting.

Today, you are not tucked in the corner of your bed. You’re instead perched in the rounded window, gazing at the starscape. Your knees are raised, and your arms are wrapped around yourself. You look small and defeated, eyes darkened and downcast. Blade watches you rub your shoulders.

You look up when he enters. Blade sets the bowl on the ledge next to you, and sets a pair of chopsticks on top, "You will eat."

It's not a command, but a statement of fact.

You scowl, looking so angry. Alive with it. He recognizes vitriol so easily. It's in your eyes and in the way you bare your teeth at him, ready to strike. Maybe you'll bite down on him, into him, until you taste blood. Blade's sure you wouldn't leave a scar— he heals too quickly from the types of flesh wounds to give him a lasting mark.

(There's something enticing about you trying. Blade does not know the floating, filmy part of himself that suggests such a desire.)

You carry Kafka's mark. There are bruises around your throat, the clear shape of hands. There are lumps across your jaw, darkened in color. Scratches of nails over your neck, down to your collarbones. Your eyes are red-rimmed. Your lip is split, barely scabbed over. You're shaking.

You open your mouth, ready to snap. Maybe you'll spit venom— Blade doesn't know your species. You could.

(Blade remembers your expression on different faces from the glitter of your canines. It reminds him— of—? Jingliu was colder. Frigid in her rage. Dan Feng was always so calm with his, Only shattered near the end, like a tide that swelled too high on the shore to swallow the world whole. Your expression is white-hot, like metal pulled fresh from a stoked forge. Desperation and terror make dull teeth sharp. Actions become erratic and desperate.)

(Blade has not remembered so much, so clearly in a long time. He really needs Kafka to wipe his memory again.)

The mara in him writhes. It’s a necrosis, a vitality that has long since sank into his marrow and will not leave. It rolls through him. Blades tips back his head and rolls his shoulders. There's a high to it, followed by an immediate and tumbling withdrawal and dread and clarity—

And it's all interrupted by the little gasp you make. The abrupt jolt you take backward, into the window, closer to the depths of deep space. Your body thumps against the glass. 

('Fragile', Kafka had said.)

Your mouth closes, and your bloody lower lip wobbles. Tears glitter on your lash line as you retreat. Maybe, Kafka broke you. She’s good at that. 

"Fucking— I-I mean, fine. I’ll fucking eat." You stumble over your words with a sniffle. Your voice is raw and strained. You rub your nose on your sleeve and scramble for the bowl and utensils.

Blade stares as you eat your first bite. Then your second. Followed by your third. You start crying after the fourth, sobbing with the fifth, and hiccupping between mouthfuls. You're eating too fast, occasionally looking at him with an expression he recognizes as terror. He's used to seeing a look like that at the end of his blade. Frozen before draining of blood and death.

He frowns. You should not look that way..

"Slow down," he says, sitting next to you.

You look at him and wipe over your mouth, lips parting, but seem to think better of speaking. You take another bite, chewing slower. Blade picks up his own bowl and eats small, meticulous bites.

(He shared a meal all the time. Shoulder to shoulder with Dan Feng, splitting casks of viridian wine in the moonlight. Food tastes better when someone you... like is near.)

You finish before him, and don't stop crying. If anything, you cry harder. It sounds painful.

Blade pauses his meal, idling. searching. There's something there. A feeling coated in the roots of mara, but... perhaps it's a delicious agony. Not so much a memory, but a want. Something other than— than what and why—

Blade stands. He departs to your bathroom (there are blood stains on the counter) and grabs a cloth towel. He dampens it with water, letting the sink run until it's pleasantly warm.

He sits closer to you when he returns. You flinch away in retreat, leer away as he comes close, hands up—

"Please, don't, what are you—"

"Hold still." Blade grabs your wrist and you wince.

With entirely conscious thought and great effort, he loosens his grip. And... gently, Blade brings the cloth to your face. He dabs around your eyes, then your cheek and nose, and lastly your mouth. you're frozen, wide-eyed, and still shaking.

When he's done, he grabs a blanket from the bed. He wraps it around your shoulders. It feels... somewhat right.

"You should rest." He tells you. "You need it."

Blade thumbs over a swollen round on your jaw. You tremble, eyes wide.

But maybe a little less scared.

"... Are you gonna stay while you finish eating?" You eye his half-full bowl.

"Yes."

"... 'kay... and you're not gonna rough me up like Kafka did?"

"No." He has no plans to.

"... Fine."

You cautiously make your way back to your little bed, sitting at the head of it, and half-slipping under the covers. It's... cute.

(Blade has not thought of anything as cute in several centuries.)

Blade wants to break your legs.

When he finishes, he collects both bowls, and looks around your room. It's sparse, though. There are a few books on the nightstand.

"... Are you bored?"

"Huh?" You ask. You'd been lost in thought, eyes lost. "Oh, I mean. yeah? There's not much to do."

"I'll bring some things. Bear it until then."

"Oh! Okay." You wrap the blanket around your shoulders tighter. "You're... Bladie, right?"

"Just Blade."

"Oh, okay. sorry." You wring your hands. "Thank you, Blade."

The thing in his chest blooms. A monstrous flower, mycelium under acres of land in a network that eats and never dies. Undergrowth that does nothing but rot and grow, grow and rot. 

Blade doesn't reply as he leaves the room. He gets halfway to the training wing before he has to pause, withdraw his phone, and send Kafka a frantic text: 'Meet me in the weaponry room.’

He pockets his phone before punching the wall. Clumsy fingers break upon impact, and the indentation of the fist remains in the metal. 

#lore writes #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #tw dark content #tw yandere #blade's pov is so :3c #guy is nuts!! bonkers!!! #(affectionate) #alright gonna go farm for fu xuan eheh ENJOY!!

[loversipod]

Shy Lover

Summary: Harry is the shy boy in school and y/n boyfriend. She gets to know him over the months and see him growing comfortable around her. So comfortable that he’s ready to make love to her for the first time.

Pairing: shy boyfriend!harry x fem!reader

Wordcount: 3,3k

Trigger warnings: soft dom, use of pet names, light teasing, begging, choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, mention of handjob, hair pulling, short mention of scars, protective sex, aftercare

A/N: I don’t write much smut, so it isn’t my best, but it’s soft and caring. Please give me some feedback I appreciate it s lot :) I kinda wanna write more about them

For three months she has been Harry y/n boyfriend. She loves to hang out with him. They always study together at her house or they go on walks.

Y/n noticed how shy he is. When they go out to eat dinner he asks if y/n can order for him. Of course, she says yes. She doesn’t want him to get too nervous around strangers. If he does he picks on his painted fingernails. He’s a good boyfriend, the best she ever had.

Harry hides his hands in the sleeves of his oversized sweaters. That’s one thing she loves about her lover.

Y/n liked him for over two years and finally took the courage to ask him out. She noticed over the two years how he blushed when he talked to his friends about something and often he looked at her. When she was with her ex boyfriend he looked sad and his friends tried to cheer him up all the time. He watched her a lot when she was with his ex lover. He couldn’t help it but always had his eyes on her no matter what.

Harry thought y/n is the most beautiful girl in school. She’s smart, soft, beautiful and so talented. She’s good in art class. He loves her sundresses and her big sweaters. He wants to steal one from her.

There is no reason not to have a crush on her.

"H can I braid your hair?" She asks sweetly. Her eyes scan his face and she sees how his cheeks grew red. It’s adorable to see him like this.

"Y-you want to?" He asks her back in a whisper.

"Mhm, you hide that face too often," and before he knew it his whole face was red. "May I?" She pressed her nose in his temple. He nods. She pulls his grey hood down and can’t help it, but look into his forest green eyes.

Y/n wanted to open his grey cardigan. He laid his hand on y/n. "’M only wearing a shirt, I’ll get cold." His voice comes out in a whisper.

"Okay," she kisses his hot cheek. Y/n love doing his hair. When he allows her girlfriend, she makes her boyfriend some pigtails or braids them. Sometimes she uses just some colourful hair clips. On other days he asks for buns with those colourful hair clips. Sometimes the shy boy asks her to make him some pig tails as well. Harry likes them a lot.

He’s too shy to talk to her on some days, that’s the reason why she always plays music. Y/n parents even talked to her about it and told her to have safe sex. Always use protection and that she doesn't have to do anything that makes her uncomfortable or don’t want to do.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

After four months of being Harry’s girlfriend he opens up more. He’s still shy, but it gets better. He kiss y/n soft hair that smells like flowers. He loves smelling her hair or just watching her doing her make-up. He sometimes asks if he can curl her hair and of course she says yes. Harry loves helping her.

Harry brought his girl home one time to show her where her boyfriend lives. "Mom isn’t home don’t worry," he says walking into the kitchen. "Food?" He asks simple, still nervous.

"A yogurt, if I’m allowed to," he nods, taking the yogurt out of the fridge and a spoon with him upstairs.

She looks around watching him change out of his sweater into a long arm shirt. It’s the first time y/n sees how he’s looking under his long clothes. Y/n never really thought about how he looks under his big clothes, maybe a little belly that would be cute. But she never thought he had a trained back.

Y/n unlocked her phone and started to scroll on instagram she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable by looking. "Are ya still hungry?" Harry turns around and looks up at him and shakes her head.

In school her lover let y/n eat with his friends just for a few days in the week. It makes him really nervous. She sat there and ate with them. Harry picked again on his fingernails, "you don’t have to be nervous," she whispers in his ear before kissing him on his cheek. He gives her a simple smile and tangles their fingers.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Harry’s hugs are big, warm and comfortable. He was so shy, but grew more comfortable around her and touched her. He wanted to share physical touch with her. Harry hugs her now, touches her arms sometimes or kisses her face. Or talks a lot more than she was used to.

Today is a day where her boyfriend wants her to stay at his house. His sister is at home and Harry had to introduce y/n to Gemma. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you. Harry mentioned you a lot." He turns shy, again. Gemma hugged her, they talked a lot. The prince stood by the two girls and held y/n hand patiently. Waiting for y/n to come to his room.

When they went into Harry's room he put some music on and asked y/n for pigtails. She did not put two strands in the braids, because it looks cuter.

H almost dropped his phone, when she pressed her soft lips against the delicate skin of his neck. Harry never admitted it, but he loves tiny neck kisses; it was the tingles that ran down his spine. He loved the intimacy of it. A little moan escaped his soft lips.

She was bold for the first time in their relationship. "S-sorry," she whispers and hides in his neck.

Something snapped in Harry’s head. He doesn’t know she feels that way about him. "Don’t hide from me, pretty girl," he turns his body to her. Harry can see how red her cheeks are. Now she knows how he feels around her.

He puts his hand under your chin and gently till’s her head up. "Hi," she smiles.

"Hi," he kisses her forehead. It's strange for her how gentle he holds her face in his big hands. Her eyes are big and glassy. Even with his pig tails he looks dominant. He freed his hair out of the hair ties.

He wraps his fingers with his rings around her throat and squeezes her sides with light pressure. She curls her fingers around his wrist. No one ever choked her. It's new, but it sends a rush through her body. His grip around her throat gets tighter. She can see the pleasure in his eyes just from choking her.

It’s strange to see his dominant side.

"H-harry?" He loses his grip around her throat. He smirks, he grabs her face between his palms to bring her down to his lips, he kisses her softly for the first time. She’s scared to touch him at the moment. The kiss feels so good, but she’s not sure if it’s okay to touch him now.

"Love?" Harry asks.

"Mhm," he chuckles.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is confident. H’s warm hands are smoothing over her hips. She swallows hard, "it’s okay if you don’t want to," he leans in for a second kiss.

"Do you actually like me?" She asks unsure.

"I can’t stop thinking about you for more than two years. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. You’re the best that ever happened to me. You help me a lot. I can’t lose you. I need you in my life. I told my mom about you before we even dated." She hugs him tightly, her eyes are teary. He rubs her back.

"You can," she said quietly, "I‘ve done it only once." She’s insecure about it for no reason. She knows he had more girlfriends in the past so he’s more experienced then her. One of his exes is y/n old friend. She was toxic. Y/n was happy to finally leave her behind. She told her how good he is and what they did even though she knew y/n likes him a lot at that time.

"No sex until you are 100 percent sure," he kisses her temple short. But there is another reason why she feels so insecure about it. "There is still something wrong," he murmured. "What is it?"

Her eyes closed, "you were with Lana and she told me so much stuff, what you did to her." Harry softly kissed her forehead, he stroked her knuckles.

"She was my girlfriend, but I never was intimate with her." Y/n eyes open again. Before her, he wasn’t shy. Maybe she used him, there was a rumour that he has scars on his body. She did something to him. She was never really in love with him. After she left him he was shy and insecure. Her boy won’t be the same. She did something he will never be the same.

She changed him.

"Can we wait a little longer?” He nods short.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Y/n found out after six months that her boyfriend is shy, but loves to take control in the bedroom.

He often finds an excuse why he needs to see her. Is it for homework or a project he wants to help her mostly it ends in a make out session. All he wants is to taste her lips.

He’s adorable.

H is still so shy around her, but he takes control over her, it makes her feel things. She never thought he could be like this. Not the shy boy.

She loves that about him.

Harry takes y/n out to picnic dates, in the summertime. He surprised her with a lot of dates in the past three weeks. They go book shopping or just go for a walk in the park and feed the ducks.

Harry invited y/n over, he’s alone at home for the next couple of days and he wanted to spend some time with her.

Y/n laid on his bed, he watched the pattern’s of her breathing. He tells her things she never heard before. He asked questions to the ceiling and never knew what she was thinking.

But she liked it, he liked her. He thought a lot about it. He laid his hand on her soft skin and started to stroke her inner thigh, teasingly. He saw how y/n breathing picked up. Her gaze stays on the ceiling above her. His fingers outlined her panties.

Harry loves it when it’s summer and y/n wears skirts and her pretty sundresses. Barney Stinson said it’s never too late to wear sundresses.

"Harry," she whines. His lips leave only a chuckle. It’s mean to tease her, but she looks so cute when she squirms under his touch. He can’t help it.

"Mhm, want me to touch you? Eating you out? You would like that, wouldn’t you?" She nods eagerly. "Words, bunny," he orders.

"Please touch me, need your mouth, please," a smirk grows on his lips. He hooks his fingers in her underwear and pulls her white lace panties down and puts them in his jeans pocket.

He settles his body between her legs and presses some light kisses against her skin. His fingers pull her sundress up to her belly. His plump lips suck eagerly purple bruises into her skin. Y/n reached her hand down to tangle her fingers in between his ringlet’s, "so impatient," he shakes his head and leaves a hickey on her hip bone. His tongue starts with slow board licks, y/n tugs on his hair.

"More please," she whines out. He flicks his tongue skillfully over her clit. She remembers that Harry told her to say what she wants. "C-can you maybe—" she got cut off by a moan.

He lifts his head up, "what do you want to tell me," he teased her by kissing, licking and biting her spread thigh.

"Can y-you maybe, um, suck a-and glide up," Harry nods and hums short. He brings his mouth back down to kiss her clit. The vibrations from the hum shoot through her, with the action she asked for making her eyes roll back in pleasure.

He repeated these actions using the tip of his tongue to play with her clit. All her soft whimpers and moans were music to his ears. He pulled her hips closer to his mouth. One of y/n boyfriend's hands slides down from her soft inner thigh to insert two fingers into her pulsing heat. She immediately clenched down on him. "You taste amazing," he murmurs between each stroke.

Y/n can feel how Harry brings her closer to her climax. "F-fuck…" she whimpers into the air. Her grip on his hair gets stronger, she earns a moan from him. Her legs tighten around his head. "I’m— I’m gonna—" a whiny moan comes over her dedicated lips

"Cum for me, bunny," he said out loud. Some seconds later her mouth leaves pornographic sounds. Y/n eyes are pinched and her mouth hangs open. "Good girl," Harry’s favourite sight. "You okay?" She nods. Harry kissed her hard and shoved his tongue in her mouth to let her taste herself.

“Thank you,” she pulls him down on his neck and keeps him close to her body.

“Can I– can I fuck you?” His voice comes out in a whisper.

“Please,” he opened a brown drawer from his nightstand to look for a condom. Y/n lunches inside, she sees some condoms, lube, tissues and chocolate. “Why chocolate?” She giggled.

“’M hungry after, uh, t–touching myself and too lazy to get something,” his whole face turned red and his voice broke at the end of his sentence. If she asks him, if it’s her she thinks about while doing it, he couldn’t answer her. It's too embarrassing for him. He’ll always be the shy boy around her. Obviously it gets better, but there is a part he always stays like this.

“It’s just me,” she spoke softly to him, kissing his cheeks and seeing some of her juices drip down his chin. “No reason to be nervous, you did amazing.”

“Can I stay dressed? I take off m’jeans and boxers, but not more.” He sounds really insecure, y/n don’t want to ask what it is. Why does he feel like this? She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Of course she accepts him for who he is. She’s in love with him.

She’ll ask him what he has to hide and why he always wears big clothes at some point.

“Can I help?” He murmurs a quiet “yes” She sits up and fumbles with his belt when she finally undid it, he stands up from his bed and pulls his light blue wide jeans down. Her eyes scan his lower half. A long shirt covers his thighs a bit up. It looks out from under his sweater. “You are so pretty,” a shy smile formed on his swollen lips. H, crawled back between y/n legs.

He lets the loose straps from her dress fall down, “no bra, y’know my birthday isn’t anytime soon.” He smirks at chest. He had an obsession with her boobs. He often just grabs them or hides every bra she left at his house, so she never puts one on and Harry just stares at her chest with a shirt on. He loves them.

Y/n dress hung in her middle, Harry’s boxers lay with his jeans on the clean floor. Y/n gave him a lot of handjobs. But they are both horny teenagers. Knowing he will be inside her is intimidating for her. He’s not small.

He tugs a few times on his cock. “You sure about it?” She whispers a “yes” and takes his soft hand in hers. Y/n have seen him a few times but only a amount of times she can count it on her two hands. He opens the condom and rolls it carefully up. Y/n watched him, his pink tongue always pokes out when he concentrates. “We can stop whenever you want,” he pressed a kiss on her forehead. He grabs the bottle of lube, puts some on his hand and spreads it on the condom.

Her lover noticed how her face scrunched up in pain and he stopped. "Bunny? You alright? Do you want to stop?" He whispers in worry, stroking her cheek softly.

“No you’re just massive.”

“Oh bunny, you never had a cock this big?” She shakes her head, “’M sorry that it hurts.” He pouts and tangles their fingers. “I know you can be a good girl and take it.” His thrusts are slow and gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He wraps her legs around his waist. His shirt and sweater are ridged up. She looks at his beautiful, soft and innocent skin.

The sunlight was bleeding through his curtains. Some whines and moans escaped both of their lips. He kept the pace filling her up to the brim, pleasure filled both of their systems. Harry peppers kisses around her chest, kitten licks her breast. He teasingly took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked lightly. Each time he did that she moaned. “You are so handsome,” her fingers go through his damp hair.

She wraps her legs tighter around his waist and pulls him in deeper with a soft moan. “You are doing great, angel.” His hand holding her face tilted her up with tenderness, kissing her swollen lips as he ground his hips deeper into her due the new angle.

She stroked his cheekbone, her orgasm came over her. She whines and moans into his mouth and Harry is close too. He can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting. Two more thrusts and he shoots his load into the condom. His head drops to y/n shoulder as he rides his orgasm out.

He stayed for a short moment inside her, “Aww, did I wear you out, love?” She nods lightly and covers her chest up, he then pulls out of her. He throws the condom into the bin and returns with a warm washcloth and wipes the mess between her legs, clean.

Harry helps her to put on some of his boxers and slides the dress down from her middle. He puts a shirt over her body, “I am officially obsessed with your body.” She hasn't seen his body completely yet but she knows it makes him feel good about himself.

“Hungry?” He asks her while pressing soft kisses against her forehead and cheeks.

“Can we eat some chicken nuggets?” She kisses all over his face, brings him down on his neck holding him close. Y/n don’t want him to leave her for bringing food. She knows it’s important for him to take proper care of her.

“I must say I’m the slightest bit offended that we just had the hottest sex ever and you’re thinking about chicken nuggets,” he chuckles and sees the biggest smile on her plump ips. He went downstairs, put some dinosaur nuggets into the oven. When he comes back he sees y/n snuggled up in his bed with his teddy in her arms. “Love, I have your nuggets,” she opens her eyes, lazily grabs the water glass and drinks it. She eats a nugget. Harry ate some as well.

She kisses his chest and murmurs, "you are the best boyfriend ever,” before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

He whispers in her hair, “I love you,” but she didn’t hear it. She’s asleep. “You’re the best that ever happened to me.” He pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her forehead one last time before he falls asleep as well.

#boyfriend!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles soft #harry fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles story #harry styles imagines #harry writing #harry fluff #harry fic #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry imagine #harry one shot #harry and y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry au #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry styles imagine

[sweetiesicheng]

hoshi - babysitting

word count : 781

—

"he's eating yogurt right now," soonyoung said to you. "s/n, say hi to your mama.��

"hi mommy!"

"hi, baby. is soonyoung playing with you?" you asked as you left a store.

"yea! we played a lot!" your son answered.

"he's doing fine. take your time on your way back," soonyoung said to you.

"you're a lifesaver, soonyoung. i'll see you soon," you said to him.

"yep. see you soon."

the call ended and you put your phone in your pocket.

you had to work overtime at your job and couldn't pick up your son from daycare, so you had asked soonyoung if he could watch him for a bit. luckily for you, soonyoung had the day off and loved your son to bits and pieces, so he was more than happy to watch him.

since you knew your son was in great hands, you went to the grocery store and bought what you needed for the week. you were currently putting groceries away in your car since you needed to buy quite a bit. once you were done, you left the parking lot and headed home.

after a few minutes, you made it home and parked your car in the driveway. you took a few bags with you to the front door and unlocked the door. you opened the door and heard laughter coming from the living room.

"s/n, i'm home!" you called out and immediately heard footsteps running.

"mommy!"

your son hugged you tight, and you hugged him back with one arm since you were holding groceries with your other hand.

"need help?" you looked up and saw soonyoung, who had appeared from the living room.

you shook your head, "i got it," you told him. "want to stay for dinner? i'm going to cook,” you offered.

"you sure?" soonyoung asked while picking your son back up.

"s/n, do you want soonyoung to stay for dinner?" you asked your son, who started to climb all over soonyoung.

"yes! please! we can play more!" s/n exclaimed while trying to climb onto soonyoung's back.

"well, you heard him," you said to soonyoung with a laugh. "i'm going to get the rest of the groceries."

—

after getting all of the groceries from your car, you started putting everything away and cooking dinner. your son and soonyoung continued to play in the living room.

eventually, you finished cooking and started putting everything into the kitchen table.

"baby, go wash your hands," you said to your son.

"okay!"

"oh, wow. this looks amazing," you heard soonyoung said. you looked over your shoulder and saw soonyoung looking at the table.

"aren't you glad that you stayed?" you asked with a chuckle while washing your hands. "want a beer?" you asked him.

"no, thank you though. i have to wake up early tomorrow for a schedule," he mentioned and went over to the sink to quickly wash his hands after you were done. "and you know how i am with alcohol," he added, reminding you if when you first met him.

"waking up at two in the morning with you at the front door was very interesting," you replied.

soonyoung groaned at the memory, "don't remind me."

"mommy! mommy!" your son ran into the kitchen and straight up to you.

"yes?" you looked down at him.

"can soonyoung come over more often?" he asked you.

you smiled, "well, soonyoung is a very busy person. you know how he dances all the time? he has to do that a lot," you said to him. "go sit," you instructed as all of you sat down at the table. "he'll come over when he can, but he has to work first before he can come over and play.”

"i'll come over again, s/n," soonyoung said, "i'll bring you a souvenir every time i travel overseas, okay?"

"yay! thank you!"

all of you started eating with soonyoung helping s/n out when he accidentally spilt food.

"thank you again for watching him," you said to soonyoung. "he usually can stay at daycare, but they changed the hours recently."

"it's all good. you know that i love to hang out with him," he replied.

"hoshi," your son suddenly whispered out loud to soonyoung, making you raise an eyebrow.

"what's up?" soonyoung asked.

"are you going to ask mommy out on a date yet?" s/n asked.

soonyoung nervously looked at you and then back at your son. "shh, bud! it was supposed to be a surprise!" he said to your son.

"but i'm whispering, she can't hear us!" your son said, and you started to silently laugh.

"she definitely heard you, bud."

"no she didn't! i'm whispering!"

#sweetiesicheng #kpop #sweetiesicheng seventeen #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen fanfic #carat #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen kwon soonyoung #kwon hoshi #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung x reader #seventeen soonyoung #svt soonyoung #soonyoung fanfic #hoshi #hoshi x y/n #hoshi x you #svt hoshi #hoshi fanfiction #hoshi fanfic #seventeen hoshi #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x you #soonyoung x y/n #seventeen leaders #seventeen bss #seventeen performance team

[bleubrri]

grocery shoppin’ baby-time fluff with bo \^o^/

before you even turn onto the aisle, you can hear your daughter squealing with laughter. bokuto is crouched in front of the cart, meticulously balancing an absurd amount of blueberry yogurt pots in his arms which she apparently finds hilarious. her heels kick back against the metal below her seat and the whole cart jolts from her excitement.

you stroll up, a poorly subdued smile etched onto your lips as your boyfriend struggles to clear the last few from the shelf.

“you realise we’re not buying all that, right?”

kotarous eyes dart up to where you’re leaning against the cart, smoothing your fingers over your baby’s hair. he pouts, yogurt tucked under his chin as he stands to face you, “it’s her favourite.”

you chuckle, reaching for one of the packs cradled in his arms. “last week her favourite was peach-mango. and the week before, she would rather throw yogurt in your face than eat it.”

bokuto counters your argument, “okay that was once, and i’ve got a feeling blueberry is the new wave. trust me on this, babe.” he grins at his little girl, babbling and waving her fists in agreement. you’re unconvinced.

you smirk, remembering empty yogurt pots littering his desk and berry flavoured kisses when he’d pick you up in the mornings. “oh yeah, whys that?”

bo puffs out his chest, strides over to your place beside the cart and confidently unloads his haul with the rest of the groceries. (which—now that you’re looking— seem to have been given a similar treatment, if the months supply of cereal boxes and apocalypse-prep level of crackers are anything to go by).

“because,” he drawls, “it’s in her blood! right, muffin?” he blinks expectantly at your daughter, who kicks her heels even more fiercely and giggles up at her daddy.

bokuto beams, scooping your little bundle of sunshine into his arms, turning to you with her perched on his hip and a smug smile on his face. “see?”

you roll your eyes playfully, reaching out to tickle the rounded tummy underneath her dungarees, “okay traitor, majority rules.” and dropping the pack that you’d swiped into the cart.

you watch with a droopy gaze as he spins her around in triumph, bubbly laughter filling the aisle and your heart squeezing in your chest. oh, you love them so much. you wonder if she’ll ever comprehend it, if he could ever understand all that he’s given you. you think you could burst into tears right here, feel your heart melt under your ribs and pool out at your fingertips right in the dairy aisle, watching bokuto babble nonsense at your baby like it’s the most important thing in the world.

he nods solemnly, leaning in to whisper, “tell mama we got the cookies she likes.”

you laugh, reaching out at the grabby hands made in your direction. “let’s get out of here before you two bankrupt us.”

~

“how could you do this to me?” bokuto whines, chin against the table and shoulders slumped in defeat.

you fight the smile that wants to emerge as you spoon the last of the yogurt into your daughters mouth. the dinner table has a pile of unopened yogurt packs in the corner, and a much larger trail of empty pots surrounding where bokuto slumps. he looks expectantly at the little girl perched in her high chair with strawberry-banana residue smeared onto her cheeks. she claps her hands and gurgles.

you make a show of wiping her down and chattering to her, “wasn’t that yummy! shall we try a new one tomorrow, hm?”

kotarou drops his forehead to the table with a resounding thud, muttering to himself, “i think i’m gonna throw up..”

even when she gets a little older and will eat most flavours without much fuss, there’s the odd pot of blueberry that remains untouched until after her dinner, when she’ll proudly deposit it in front of bokutos place and state that “daddy can eat it!”

he doesn’t have the heart to refuse her. he accepts it with vigour, “oh you treasure! thank you for sharing, baby.” and spoons down every mouthful as she watches him with glittering eyes that match his own. it’ll never fail to make you laugh when she totters off and his face drops into a groan, pushing the infernal blue pot as far away as possible.

#self indulgence time #i love that big beefy sunshine boy #˚⁀➷｡˚ selfships ! #｡･:*:･ﾟ★ bokutoverse #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #bokuto x you #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #bokuto koutaro x reader

[i99zhuo]

Could u make a routine inspired by kazuha ?

How to live like kazuha ⋆𐙚.ೃ⊹🩰°｡𓏲⋆𖦹 🦢₊˚ kazuhaism routine

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by le sserafim’s Kazuha! thanks for the request, hope you enjoy it!!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🎀 Kazuha starts her days by getting straight out of bed! You can take a few minutes just to think about your dreams or to meditate but after you're done get up without thinking so you avoid lazyness. After, head to the bathroom to do your hygiene routine (washing your teeth, face, body, etc.)

After you do your skincare, it's time for makeup, if i had to describe Zuha’s makeup in a few words i would use ‘natural’ ‘light’ and ‘clean’, even tho she uses as many products as other idols I've already talked about (brow pencil, eyeshadow, base makeup, contour, lashes, eyeliner, blush and lip tint), her makeup still pretty much simple, like just to enhance her natural features.

🧸Time to get dressed, Kazuha usually wears tops or basic t-shirts with baggy sweatpants, the colors she wears the most are white, black and gray. stylize the outfit with a beret or sunglasses!

Finally for breakfast, a good option is to have a sandwich with coffee, however any recipe that includes a lot of veggies in it will be ideal! 

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🩰 One of Zuha's favorite things is trying new things and showing progress! So always make sure to experiment with different study styles, techniques and resources. also, remember that progress is not about going from an F to an A, but about improving slowly and enjoying the path to your goals.

To learn and practice her Korean, Kazuha reviews vocabulary daily, using it on small phrases to memorize their meaning. As a visual learner, she also associates words with drawings and writes in her notebook often.

🥥 And to improve her English she usually practices talking with Yunjin. You can ask a friend to tutor you in any signature you feel you are lacking and make learning fun!

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🪷 Kazuha’s most famous charm is her healthy and beautiful body, as well as her flexibility. She workouts everyday in her dorm room, and has a lot of different workout routines, so I decided to make a schedule so you can try them all!

monday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), Kazuha new abs workout and full body stretch.

tuesday -> le sserafim workout (short version), Kazuha upper body workout, stretch

wednesday -> le sserafim workout, Kazuha abs workout, stretch

thursday -> le sserafim workout, upper body workout, stretch

friday -> le sserafim workout, kazuha lower abs workout, stretch

saturday -> le sserafim (short), upper body, stretch

sunday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), stretch 

🌷 Also, you can try and enroll in a ballet class, it's never too late to try!

✸ ꒰ shower + self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Before taking your shower, take off your makeup with micellar water or an oil based cleanser. Then bath like you would normally do, but start your shower with lukewarm water and finish with a cold rinse!

🦢 Then use a soft foam cleanser to wash your face, let it air dry, and then use a gentle toner, calming ampoule and cream to set the moisture.

Now for self care, Zuha enjoys spending time doing diamond paintings or other kinds of diys, like decorating phone cases. She also videocalls her friends often in her free time, spending time with friends really helps with our mental health! You can also try and make little handmade gifts for your besties.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🐩 Dinner time! eat a yogurt bowl with nuts and honey (or any toppings you like) and eat it while watching youtube videos.

After eating she takes her journal and writes about her day and her emotions, she tries to be as concise as possible so no matter if she’s tired or doesn't have time she's still able to reflect on her day!

👛 Then she does her last review on the things she's studying, doing this before going to sleep helps you remember it better.

If she's with the members she will obviously watch a scary movie and have fun with her friends before going to bed!

💋 Finally stretch a little in your bed to be more flexible, have a better posture and to help you to fall asleep faster!

Good night!

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

Heyyy tysm for reading hope you liked it even if it was a little rushed!

I closed my request cus I kept getting them and I really want to focus on the ones that I already have hehe but don't worry I will re-open them once im done!

Also while making this I noticed it was really similar to the how to live like Yunjin I was making sooo idk if I should finish it or not, what do u guys think?

anyways I think that's all

toodlezzzzz!11!!1

#kazuha #nakamura kazuha #le sserafim kazuha #kazuhaism #wonyoungism #kazuha motivation #morning routine #study routine #workout routine #shower routine #self care routine #night routine #le sserafim #aesthetic #coquette #dream girl #it girl #pink blog #that girl #pinterest #pink pilates princess #glow up #beauty tips #girly #pinterest girl #becoming that girl #pink princess #productivity #motivation #inspo

[joelsmochi]

closer

rating: E 18+ pairing: tortured artist!Joel x black!girly!f!reader summary: Joel hits a creative block with a mural, leading him down a road of discovery and intimacy in ways he's never felt before. warnings: au/no outbreak, unspecified drug use + marijuana use, unprotected piv, sex while under the influence, consenting adults!!! age is not specified but we can assume joel is mid 40s, brief mentions of death + abusive relationships, ooc!Joel (he is not the same person he was 1/2 pill ago…), third person pov but most of it is from joel’s perspective, very fluffy sex they may have said i love you wc: 5.3k a/n: Happy New Year everybody! This was inspired by Closer by Goapele and Prisoner by The Weeknd & Lana Del Rey plus I was thinking too hard about the time I ate an edible that had too much THC for me to handle and I produced whatever this is. Hopefully tortured artist!Joel hasn’t happened yet because I felt creative with this one…

ᝰ

The frayed paintbrush relentlessly slapped against the concrete wall, coating the discolored brick in thick layers of different browns, reds, and whites. Opaque smoke blurred his vision, yet he only let it inspire the strokes of his hand, creating a beautiful image that wasn’t clear to him yet.

Before he knew it, the sun had set; he sat on his hard leather sofa, massaging the twinge that had settled into his wrist while his face wore a disappointed scowl. He was displeased with his progress, the blob that was already half dry on the wall of his loft.

A rumble snuck into his stomach, forcing him to stand up and absentmindedly walk into the kitchen area. However, his disappointment grew when he opened the fridge to find nothing suitable for a proper meal. As he glared at the half-eaten yogurt and scarce 24-pack of beer, he decided to go and get Chinese food.

He lit up a cigarillo to accompany his walk around the block and across the street, tossing whatever was left into a sewer drain just in time for him to open the door to the restaurant.

“Miller,” a worker greeted with a smile, “your usual?”

Unknown to him, the smell of his cigar caught the attention of a waiting customer. She waited until he was done chatting with the employee to ask, “Cream?”

He did a double take, unsure if she was talking to him at first. She was tall, maybe five foot nine or five foot ten, with big hair and brown skin, and dressed in something far too lovely for her to be eating Chinese for dinner.

“I’m sorry?”

“You smell like cream-flavored cigars,” she said, sounding amused.

He felt unsure of how to respond, not wanting to seem rude, watching her diamond earrings gleam from the low yellow lighting. He paid for his food and answered. “Yeah, just had one.”

“Black and mild or swisher?”

“Blacks,” he answered, growing a little uneasy from the stranger questioning him despite the mundane topic. 

“My favorite,” she boasted, earning another look from him after he put his change in the tip jar. “They’re much smoother.”

The man didn’t respond, only offering a tight smile in return. The pair stood a few feet apart silently, listening to people chattering and utensils clanking behind the counter as they waited.

She smelled like expensive brown sugar perfume and cocoa butter, a sickly sweet combination that tickled his sense of smell. Her scent was reminiscent of a freshly baked cookie a kid couldn’t wait to dive into. She was dressed in a lovely skirt and a prissy top paired with a mix of gold and silver rings and necklaces and bracelets — two colors he usually hated paired together, but somehow, she made it blend beautifully.

Her makeup was soft, or so it seemed. It wasn’t too heavy, but her eyebrows were bold, as was the line drawn around her vermilion border. He noticed she blinked slowly but held her eyes wide as if she anticipated something to happen.

The employee’s voice brought the two adults out of their daydreams.

“Beef and broccoli and chow mein?” They asked.

The artist waited kindly for the woman to grab her bagged styrofoam container before reaching for his own; he walked a few feet behind her, suddenly feeling bad for his cold demeanor earlier once they were outside.

“You want one?” He called after her before she got too far away; she turned around with a frown, confused at his offering.

He reached into his pocket and held up a couple of fresh cigars. She grinned, secretly desperate for a smoke. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she strutted back towards him. She strutted like a cat, one leg crossing the other.

She allowed the man with the messy hair the privilege of placing the stick between her plump lips, keeping her eyes on his as he watched where he was lighting.

She took a long drag, waiting for him to get his cigarette lit before asking, “What’s your name?”

His eyebrow cocked up, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was amused. But he answered anyway.

“Joel.” He sharply inhaled; she responded with her name and a smile, thick smoke spilling out from the spaces between her teeth as she gently exhaled. “You from around here?”

“No,” she said, “I like to travel. See new places. Find new things… Right now, I’m fixated on museums—art museums precisely.”

That piqued his interest. “Art? What kind of art d'you like?”

“Any art that speaks to me.”

Joel smirked at her answer as if it were funny. “Oh yeah? What speaks to you?”

Instead of her usual quick response, she pondered momentarily, trying to locate proper words to avoid rambling. “Suffering or excitement.”

He could only narrow his eyes at the vague response, but she spoke again before he could ask for an elaboration.

“You must like art,” she guessed correctly.

“I’m uh…” And there’s a long pause; the rhetorical shame of confessing what his job was had risen, but for what purpose? After a short internal debate, he finally admitted, “I’m an artist myself.”

Her eyes widened with excitement, which Joel found adorable. She asked him various questions: what kind of art he created, how long he’d been painting, his favorite creations…

He admired her interest in the subject and how she listened carefully and intently, clearly trying to understand as much as possible about him.

“How do you stay inspired all the time?”

Shit.

Joel’s mind ran blank for a few seconds, and he watched the woman’s face contort into confusion. She worried she’d brought up an unhealed wound and persisted that he didn’t need to answer.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Joel assured, “I’ve honestly been at a block lately…”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “Do you do anything to help get over that?”

He sucked on his teeth as he thought of an appropriate answer, yet nothing came to mind. He couldn’t lie even if he wanted to. “Just wait for it to pass.”

“…Could... Could I see your art?”

For the first time, she seemed to be shy. Her teeth grimaced, and eyebrows crooked out of fear of rejection, but Joel was sure he was far more nervous than she was.

"Uh, sure..." He said hesitantly. "What I have at home is nothing special, but-"

"I'm sure it's beautiful," she interrupted. "I'm free right now if that works."

ᝰ

This was unlike him: inviting a girl he'd just met into his home. She had something that enamored him. What was it, he wondered with each passing minute, was it her beauty or curiosity? Was it the way she smiled or how sweet her voice sounded? He couldn't ponder for much longer as she had already begun complimenting his home.

"A loft," she said while taking in the brick walls of his home that were littered with several paintings that all seemed to be works in progress. "It's cozy." Joel watched as her painted nails gently trailed over the armrest of his stiff couch just before she reached up to feel a painting of what seemed to be a little girl.

His staring made the woman laugh, and while he could admit he was being a bit precarious, he just wanted to ensure she wouldn't mishandle that particular piece. She didn't. She just reached to stroke the texture meant to resemble the girl's curly hair; she touched it for only a moment before pulling away and turning around.

After realizing the painting was sacred to him, she asked, "Is that someone you know?"

His shoulders and chest rose as he sucked in a melancholic breath, and she couldn't ignore the sadness that swarmed his eyes.

The woman was satisfied with no answer and moved on quickly. "May I eat with you?"

Joel gave her a stiff nod, his thoughts still filled with the traumatic memories of the girl in the photo.

They sat quietly and slowly ate their food, the lack of heat from their containers making the meal invaluable. The silence comforted him as it felt much different than the cold silence he was used to. No. Her silence was warm and comforting... Like a mother caring for a sick or sad or sleeping child. She didn't offer any awkward glances or stiff smiles. She didn't hide her joy or her optimism despite his distant demeanor.

Her eyes weren't as big as they were just an hour ago. Perhaps the food made her sleepy, he thought.

"Where ya from?" He figured he should at least be a good host.

"Rockport. It's a small town in Massachusetts. You?"

"Born and raised here," he answered.

"Really?" She squinted at him while poking at broccoli with a fork. "Never wanted to leave?"

Shrugging, he said, "Thought about leaving, never needed to."

"Is that painting supposed to be the same girl?"

She pointed to the spontaneous mural partly done on the big red wall opposite to them. He looked at it, forming different opinions and thoughts on his work.

"No. Not entirely sure what that one is yet," he grunted. "Needed to paint something, but I can't quite figure it out yet."

"You should do a self-portrait," she suggested with a wide grin. "I'd love to see how you see yourself."

"Nah, if I did that, it'd just be a college-ruled notebook with a bunch'a scribbles in it."

She chuckled at his pessimism, gaining a confused look from him. "So? Maybe someone would see something between the scribbles."

"I don't like painting myself," he said firmly.

She couldn't care less about his seriousness; she saw his need for perfection and keeping busy with work. Seeing the distress on the average person's face wasn't unfamiliar to her; all she wanted to do was take it away.

"Your art is lovely, Joel," she spoke truthfully, "For what it's worth, I think you'd paint yourself beautifully."

He chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds, taking in her warm smile and gentle words.

"You're very kind," he admitted, "thank you."

The temptress walked and stood in front of the mural to admire the thick blobs of paint that were still tacky. She saw the vision but just as quickly saw the block.

"You seriously do nothing to help the creative blocks?"

With a slight frown, he shook his head to confirm. "Just try working on something else until I find my rhythm again."

"Why not? Why not music or movies or going outside for more than Chinese on a Thursday evening?"

Feeling a bit antagonized, Joel scowled at her. "I paint what's in my head, not around me."

"Maybe that's the problem." She sat close to him on the floor and nudged his shoulder with hers. "Maybe you've painted all you know, and you're stuck right now because there's nothing new inside that pretty little head a'yours."

"Flattery only gets you so far, sweetheart."

"It got me in your apartment, did it not?"

His scowl grew, and he felt no need to hide his annoyance from her.

"Just tryna help," she smirked.

"I don't need your help."

"Clearly not," she simpered; she pulled a bag of ground weed from her purse and held it up for him to see. "Maybe you need Mary's help."

"You're fucking joking."

"It helps me," she said softly. "When I don't smoke, I'm a very anxious and shy person."

Joel's eyes fell to her hands, which were beginning to work the weed into a paper very carefully, watching her roll it precisely. "Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Mock me all you want, Joel, but I must say that even a couple of hits can make you feel ten times better."

"Not interested," he quipped.

"Well... If weed isn't your speed, then maybe..." She licked the paper shut and placed it on the table, then reached in her purse again for a bag containing different colored pills. "...ecstasy would be more fitting."

"You expect me to take drugs from a stranger?" He asked.

She leaned her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "I'm no stranger, Joel. I'm your inspiration."

He found himself laughing at her choice of words, not paying her any mind as she climbed into his lap. She placed a pill between the rows of her teeth and bit down to break it in half, offering him whichever half was smaller.

"You don't have to if you really don't want to... But it will help."

Her voice was so enticing that Joel was sure he was already high from the affection she persisted in giving him.

"Help me paint?" He asked, still not entirely convinced.

"Help you create."

Joel thought about it: he had nothing left in his life to live for other than his talent for painting, and he even felt that it was being wasted on unproductive days and constant disappointments.

For months, all he wanted was to create one last masterpiece and to feel proud of it. If all it took was to give in to some strange form of peer pressure, then that's just what needed to be done.

Almost an hour later, however, his worries about art were set aside.

With his head lying in the pretty woman's lap, he tried remembering why he had been so angry before. He let her stroke the curly hairs on his head and trace his lips over and over again.

"You're doing good," she cooed gently.

"You're very, um," he swallowed between his heavy breaths, "nurturing."

He noticed the woman's eyebrow shift upwards, and an amused hum left her mouth. "Hm. No one's ever said that before."

"Really?" Joel began to realize how dry his throat became. "Well, it's a compliment."

"Thank you," she giggled. "Thirsty?"

"Mmhm," he moaned.

Reaching over to grab the water bottle on the floor, she took a long sip as she felt parched before holding his head up to help him drink some. He felt her sticky lip gloss around the rim and found himself latching even harder onto the plastic container.

She let him drink as much as he needed before closing the bottle and helping him stand up, urging him to paint something.

He felt a wave of heat envelope his body, the hairs along his arms and neck dancing along his skin. He wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny, so he tried to hold it in. He followed her around the room and watched the ends of her hair bend and curl around her arms. She opened a few paint bottles, squeezing some onto his stained palette and holding the brush out for him. She couldn't help but laugh at the elation in his wide eyes; he was definitely in a much better mood than before.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, not bothering with the meaningless utterance of words and just giving into his need to kiss her. She wasn't surprised by the gesture, inviting his tongue into her mouth for more. She tasted the cigar on his breath and lips, ignoring how bitter it seemed.

The paintbrush smeared itself against Joel's elbow, causing him to jolt back in shock, only to laugh when he realized the purple-coated paintbrush was bending on its own. He took it from her hand and approached the wall, immediately getting to work.

While he worked and ranted about how the piece was "basically painting itself," she undressed slowly while prancing around the room and humming to some tune that found its way into her head. Joel saw the colors blend and separate, waiting for the wall to respond with where his next brush stroke should be.

The woman found herself looking at that painting of the little girl again. She was unable to quiet her curiosity.

"Is she your daughter?"

Her voice broke the string tying him to his work, and he stumbled around a bit before turning around and facing her with an asking face. He let his tools go and followed the sound of the siren, looking deeply into her wide eyes.

"She was my daughter," he admitted freely, something he refused to do as often as possible.

"Where is she?"

He noted how concerned she seemed and took it as an invitation to confide in her.

“She uh… She died ‘bout ten years ago.”

Joel felt her fuzzy arms weave around him, encompassing him with a sense of comfort. It was the first time he could talk about the tragedy without bursting into tears. Her lips pressed warm kisses into his forehead and temples as she attempted to bathe him in consolation.

He removed his head from the crook of her neck to look at her face. Her eyes, although appearing a bit lopsided, were still wide and curious, like she was still waiting for something. He tried to focus on just her, but all he wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to pai-

A shriek broke him out of his trance: the woman seemed surprised about the splatter of paint that got on her bare chest and arms. Joel blinked rapidly and tried to decipher what had happened between talking about his daughter and... Now.

Had time managed to escape him? Was he too out of it to realize that? And who put on the jazz music?

The brown liquid dripped down her body and hid her nipples; he found the motion fascinating. How happy she seemed to be coated in the cold dispense helped him feel more at ease and join in laughing with her. Her hair, frizzier than before, somehow gave the illusion that she was underwater. It just flowed so freely.

"You are a mermaid in the most beautiful depths of the sea," Joel shouted dramatically.

"Wh-what?" She giggled before smearing a finger-lengths of paint onto his forehead.

His hand absentmindedly poked the paintbrush into her collarbone, tickling her in the process. "You are free... And kind... Did you turn the music on?"

And she's giggling again. God, he couldn't get enough of that sound. She was a siren, manipulating him with her songs of joy and laughter.

"You told me to," she answered; only Joel took a few minutes to process it. She covered her hand in yellow paint, cradled his cheek, and let the print of her hand stick to his face as if she were marking her territory. "I'm glad I met you tonight, Joel," she said quietly.

Instinctively, he beckoned for her to close the space between them. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

Her arms snaked around his neck as she looked at his aura and vented. "I was supposed to go on a date tonight with my ex-boyfriend. He wasn't the greatest guy. Abusive. Angry. But my parents love him, and they say he's changed, so... I wanted to try again."

Joel's drug-induced nosiness got the better of him. "Why didn't you?"

She sighed, a smirk daring to grow on her face. "I wanted to make him feel stupid."

He wrapped his arms around her waist at her wise words, holding her close as if she would blow away had he exhaled too hard.

"M'glad I met you too," he admitted. "Did I spill paint on you?"

"Just a bit, but it was my fault. You were in a daze," she admitted bashfully.

The pair took a few minutes to look at each other, feel their spirits, and soak up the serenity between the small gap in their lips.

"Do you wanna fuck?"

Those words would have left Joel speechless in any other scenario at any other time on any other day. But he was high out of his fucking mind, and once his brain had fully processed her question, he answered with a short and sweet "Yes."

He waited patiently as the vixen undressed him, and she took her precious time; her knuckles grazing the wiry hair along his pelvis sent hot shivers across his abdomen before his jeans pooled around his ankles. Lifting his arms to aid in the removal of his shirt, he flinched and giggled childishly when she placed a kiss or two along his collarbone.

She gasped at the nails digging into her sides, his hands begging for more because his voice was too weak to. The desperation grew in his eyes, and he wanted to feel close to her. To feel all of her depths and shallows and curves and grooves. Her essence rendered him helpless. The smell of her perfume was even more sickly than he recalled, but all the much more sweet.

Their bodies danced onto the floor, bending and curling around each other like snakes.

"I was always afraid of this," he spoke as she worked her hand around him, not that he needed it. "Feeling close with someone. After my last... You know."

She smiled at his words, telling him with her eyes: I know.

"I was so scared to feel close to someone..." She admitted. "After him, I wanted to be left alone. Untouched."

"What changed that- oh, fuck," Joel moaned, feeling her wetness encapsulate him.

"Someone found me, ha-ah, hmm... And took care a'me, just like I'm doing for you."

Joel clawed at her back, reaching for her hair, but his arms were too heavy, with the quick rushes of euphoria soaring through his veins. Her moans and pretty little sounds coaxing him into blindness. He couldn't see her face, covered in the universe of her bangs littered with stars and planets, until she leveled her happy face with his. The shimmer in her glossy eyes let him know she enjoyed this just as much as him.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, ever s-seen," he moaned.

Finally able to lift his arms, he used them to hold her face gently. He admired her refreshing beauty. She moaned something about how sweet he was, though it went unregistered to him.

All he could feel was her thighs flexing against his hips every time she rode down, and he felt his cock brush that sensitive sponge deep inside of her. Her hands pressed painfully into his ribcage, but he didn't mind. He loved that she needed him so much that it hurt.

She laid her body down on his chest, bringing her lips to his chin; he whimpered at the softness of her lips, his warm breath hitting her nose and making her body shudder. His mouth parted to stick his tongue out for her to lick and suck, which she did graciously.

He never knew his tongue could feel so ticklish or that having it licked would feel so damn good. It made his cock throb against her walls, forcing a moan out of the both of them. Her nails scratched his scalp tenderly, hips rocking back and forth, creating the perfect rhythm.

Her breasts dragged against the hairs on his chest, making some of the dried brown paint flake onto him; her nippled peaked, vulnerable from the friction.

Joel wrapped his forearms around the base of her spine and rolled over as carefully as his intoxicated body would allow. With hair splayed out, she looked so ethereal, like a walking painting herself.

Then, he noticed a bucket of paint sitting nearby and dipped two of his long fingers inside, dragging the white liquid down the valley of her breasts until he reached the peak of her belly. He noticed how her body reacted: all of the little shakes and shudders signs of appreciation made his heart swell.

His hand reached around her hip to grip her ass as he rested his body weight on her and enveloped her in more kisses. His hips rocked gently and slowly, careful not to hurt her. He wanted to feel her cum and hear her beg him to keep going.

To her, it felt like he pushed deeper with each thrust, begging her body to swallow him whole and allow him the grace of becoming one with her. Her eyes were so low, yet she was seeing more clearly than ever. Seeing his aura radiate off of his broad shoulders and tousled hair - it was a haze of blue and purple. But hers were shades of reds and oranges in his eyes, a fiery tyrant that bullied him with praise and adoration.

His nose tickled her chin while his lips made their way up to plant another kiss on her sweet, sweet mouth. The alcohol in her perfume singed the hairs along his face and nostrils, pilling the hairs on his arms.

"Harder, ngh- please," she murmured.

He saw her blown pupils roll gently beneath her eyelids as beads of sweat formed along her hairline. Her breathing was shallow and short. She was close.

Licking his reddened lips, he pushed her knees back until they were flush with her jawline and shifted his body weight from his knees to his toes, then changed the force of his hips without changing the rhythm.

She loved that he listened to her: harder did not mean faster, and he fucking perfected it. Almost like he knew just how hard to go.

Joel drove into her deep enough to make her cunt squelch and clench around his thick cock. He felt clumsy inside of her like he was tripping up over his own orgasm. He felt all of her ridges and curves, the smooth and the rough; everything intensified in a way that could only be described by the God he didn't believe in.

But she had him questioning that in the back of his mind. He would have believed that she was God herself if he wasn't aware of how high he was. She looked celestial, her mouth forming an 'o', and her hair sprawled around her shimmering face. Even with her mascara flaking and running slightly, she seemed so content, so pleased.

Joel's desperation to come inside of her was almost primal, instinctive... If her nails weren't digging so sharply into his forearms, he wasn't sure whether or not he would have been able to hold back.

He didn't ease up on her throughout her orgasm. Honestly, he didn't think too much about it. He never wanted right now to end. With a sense of ecstasy coursing through his veins, he managed to turn into something he tried so hard not to be. He craved her body, her kisses.

He pulled her into his lap before resting his cheek on her breast. He inhaled the musk of her sweat deeply, cherishing the divine woman she was. She felt as beautiful as she looked. She fucked just as sweet as she smelled.

His clammy hand ran over her flexed calve as she bounced on him. Her movements were sloppy from his tight grip, not that either of them cared. She was sure not to go too high or come down too hard, allowing her pussy to drip white remnants of her orgasm onto his balls. He licked and kissed and bit her tits as a submissive thank you.

She kissed the top of his hair, strumming her fingers along his scalp. "Joel," she moaned, "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he grunted almost instantly.

Raising his head to look back at her blissed out face, he pulled her even closer. His chin dug into her clavicle, but his neediness only made her laugh softly.

Joel's face twitched as his body proposed its orgasm, his dick throbbed roughly against her sensitive walls. She gasped, taking it as a sign to fuck him faster despite the burning in her legs. He winced at her arms weighing heavier into his collarbones but just clawed at her ass to power through the pain.

She placed a hand over his heart and pushed gently, forcing him to feel the thumping against his chest. He felt so much of his anger and pain dissipate beneath her touch, instilling love and peace in place of it.

"You're so precious," he whispered. A lovely smile rose onto her face, one that drove him crazy. He looked at her with big puppy eyes that threatened to fill with tears. She licked along her teeth and bit her bottom lip. "I love y-you..." He knew he didn't mean it and that she didn't either, but he missed being able to say those words. "Tell m- oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Tell me you love me," he pleaded. "Tell me you love me 'til I cum, baby."

"I love you, Joel.”

His eyes screwed shut, face falling into the curve of her neck.

“I love you, baby. I want you to cum for me,” she moaned, breathless from exhaustion.

His nails dug deeper into her flesh, he was clinging onto his climax as much as possible, wanting to wait long enough for it to destroy him.

“Oh, Joel, fuck!” She yelped. “I love you, I love you!”

And he broke.

His nails scratched lines up her back whilst he screamed into her chest. Her pussy throbbed against his sensitive cock from the arrival of her second orgasm, heightening his sensitivity.

A few tears shed his eyes at the closeness; Joel felt like he was falling into the Earth. He was so dizzy and confused, cornered by the affection clouding his judgment.

“I love you,” she whispered into his scalp, placing one last kiss before climbing off of his lap.

He hissed at the last stroke of her cunt but helped her lay down, using his t-shirt to prop her head up.

“I love you,” he said before kissing her head.

“You should drink some water.”

As soon as she said that, he felt the itchiness in his dry throat. He grabbed water from the table a few feet away and chugged as much as his stomach could handle.

“Will you bring me the joint and a lighter?”

Joel fulfilled her request and sat the water next to her, immediately looking back at his work in progress while she got herself situated.

A few moments passed before she spoke again. “Are you coming down?”

Confused, he looked down at her but saw that the colors weren’t so loud anymore. “Think so…”

“Take a few hits. It’ll help.”

He hesitated but sat down and did as she told him. 

“Thank you,” he said after briefly coughing and handing the joint back to her. “I think whatever that… Pill was actually helped.”

“If it wasn't the pill, it must’ve been the sex,” she teased, earning a laugh from him. She tapped his shoulder and pointed her head towards his mural.

ᝰ

A rough pounding woke Joel up from his slumber. He groaned, pressing the meat of his palm to his forehead and slowly sitting up before remembering the girl was still next to him.

He watched her sleep soundly, mouth slightly parted and a gentle snore creaking from her throat. The memories of last night flooded his mind, and while they were somewhat fuzzy, he remembered clear as day how it felt.

He felt most of his questions had been answered by something more complex than communication. It was frightening yet calming at the same time.

Her body stirring regained his focus, and he knew she must have been feeling the same tension headache as he was when she groaned before her eyes fluttered open. She squirmed from the cold air and looked up at the hungover man, smiling as she remembered the night before.

“Morning, Joel,” she said with a playful tilt.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said. “Your head hurtin’?”

“Yep,” she grunted while sitting up. “Ever been to that café on thirty-fourth street?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll take you there for some coffee and breakfast. My treat,” she told him.

Her eyes landed on the big, dull wall that had been taunting Joel for weeks, only to find it was a brightened, complete piece of art.

She admired the woman's beauty and asked him without looking away, “S’that me?”

Joel smirked and reached for his boxers, standing to put them on.

“She’s beautiful, ain’t she?” Joel kissed her head and walked away, leaving the woman alone to admire his masterpiece…

Her.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #joel tlou #tlou #tortured artist!joel

[wlhelp]

Plan..?

So I've never planned out a meal or day or whatever before so I want to try it

This is for tomorrow and I hope I can stick to it🤞

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Breakfast:

Coffee: 0 cals

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Lunch:

Hopefully nothing but limit would be 150-200 cals, and ONLY eat something if it's offered to you, so I can't my own lunch basically

After school:

Coffee: 0 cals

Light Cheese Stick (only if needed): 50 cals

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Dinner:

Coconut yogurt: 150 cals

Strawberries: 20-25 cals

Cucumber: 15-20 cals

Half Graham cracker: 65 cals

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Rules!

If I am really really hungry I'll allow one or two snacks, BUT the snack limit is 100-150 cals

Gum does NOT count as cals

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

So the total amount of cals can very but it's around 550-660 cals or less

I'm hoping I can stick to this 🙏😭

#ed not sheeren #@n0r3xia #i want to ⭐️ve #tw ana diary #@na #ana bllog #ana tricks #tw disordered eating #tw restrictive ed #an@rexi@ #ana meal #ed meals #low calorie meals #mealspo #mealsp0 #mealspø #low cal meal #low cal restriction #low cal diet #anatumblr #@n@ tips #@n@ diary #3dtumblr #ed disorder #tw ed diet

[hikarry]

Aziraphale is a boba bitch send tweet

Can you imagine?

"This does not look like tea at all, Crowley."

"It is tea! Just-" He waves his cup around. "Ya know, new type of tea. Try it up."

Aziraphale looks down at the cup on his hand again. The orangy liquid looks back at him, expecting. Will you drink me, will you drink me not?

"What are the balls for?"

"Ah." Crowley was already drinking his tea, bursting one of the apple bobas with his back teeth. "You eat them. They are like...grapes, but made of tapioca. Really sweet. You'll love it. I chose orange for you. Beginners flavour and whatnot."

Again, the angel looks down at his drink. The orange little balls don't look apetizing at all.

"So...while you're drinking your tea, little balls just get sucked along with it into your mouth and you're supposed to pop them?"

"Yup." Crowley pops another one. "Give it a try. If you don't like it, I'll drink it myself. No waste of food and all that nonesense. Cmon." He nudges the angel with his shoulder. "Trust me on this one, yeah?"

Aziraphale looked up at the demon, trying to analyse his expression for any sign of malice, but found nothing. Just a joyful smile and a slightly raised eyebrow over his ever present sunglasses. Then, he looked down at the tea between his hands again and took a deep breath. There was a reason why he stood with the classics. He didn't like change and this bizarre beverage was changing his favorite drink into...into something mundane.

But, alas, he gave in. Took the straw on his mouth and sucked. The tea was good, he had to admit, but, even though he was expecting the little balls to make an appearence sooner rather than later, he still recoilled when 3 of them invaded his mouth without permission.

"Use your teeth to pop them."

He looked up at the demon sitting next to him, uncertain. Crowley's only response was taking his own straw on his mouth and suck the rest of his own tea and the couple of bobas that were left in the plastic cup. Defeated, Aziraphale used his tongue to position one of the small balls between his back teeth and, without giving it much time for thought, bit into it. There was a sudden explosion of orange flavour in his mouth and, surprised, he looked up at Crowley again, eyes big in awe.

"Good, hm?"

He didn't anwer. Instead, he poped the other two balls and went back to sucking on his straw.

"Wow, wow, wow! Slow down, angel!" Crowley held Aziraphale's wrist and pulled the cup away from his face, slipping the straw out of his mouth. "You are going end up chocking like that."

"I'm sorry, dear boy. But you were correct. This is delicious!" One, two boba popped inside his mouth. "By heavens, humans are so imaginative! Whatever shall they come up with next? Ice cream made of yogurt?"

"That already-" The demon took a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, before getting up from his seat. "C'mon. We can drink while we walk."

"But...what if I want more?"

"We can pass by the store and buy the ingredients. Boba tea it's not hard to make." He looked down at his (ridiculous) watch. "We're getting late to watch Macbeth at the Domnar Warehouse. You bought these tickets 3 months in advance. I'm sure you don't want to miss it?"

"Ah, yes!" Aziraphale finally gets up, hooking his arm on Crowley's and lowkey dragging him out of the store, boba tea still in hand. "The cast is magnificent! I've heard wonderful things about the actor playing Macbeth!"

"Uhum." Now arriving at where they had parked the Bentley, Crowley opened the door for Aziraphale. "I'm sure. Dinner on me after the show?"

Aziraphale, half inside the car half out, smiles up at him.

"If we stop by somewhere to buy the little balls for the tea first."

Crowley smiled back, rolling his eyes. No one was supposed to know he was rolling his eyes, but Aziraphale knew him well enough, and slapped his arm.

"Yes, yes. In you go, angel. I don't want to have you whining over getting late to the show again."

"You would never allow such a thing, my dear." The angel leaned slightly closer, laying a chaste and quick kiss on Crowley's lips, before fully entering the Bentley and closing the door himself.

Right. Yeah. Crowley would make him all the boba tea he ever desired for the rest of eternity if the angel kept kissing him like that.

#good omens imagine #good omens #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #asks #anon

[topaz-witch-tea]

So I just want to say I love your work so far but also random request, Yanqing’s first word. I can just imagine the bets going on for his first word and when he says it no one knows who he’s talking about like AUJSBUENJSNUBD

Aww! Thank you!

I love this request. I actually have a Psych degree so I read a bit on the science behind first words to prepare an answer for this ask.

Barring sounds babies make naturally (mama, dada, baba), Yanqing's first word is Cat.

For a group of well-educated and fairly competitive men, they could not settle for words that were "close enough". Babies made noise that sounded close enough to "mama" and parents took it as their baby recognizing their mom even if the baby said it to a potted plant.

Yanqing babbled but babbling did not denote "words" according to Yingxing. "Any baby can babble. I want a clear word." Jing Yuan did note that the request was "a bit excessive. Don't you think those standards are too high for such a baby?"

"Nonsense, Yanqing will obviously say Baba and know that it is me. I want a victory no one can dispute." Yingxing had bet his most recent creation.

Dan Feng was quite offended at the idea his son would say "Baba over Ba". Citing that it was an illogical thing to bet on before promising a rare set of Vidyadhara armor to the winner.

Jing Yuan had actually betted on "Mimi". "A-die is such a hard thing for babies to say on their first try. Mimi is much easier and Yanqing adores her very much." The item on the line was a rare manuscript from his family's archives.

JIngliu found the whole thing ridiculous but placed her support behind Dan Feng. "If a baby can say 'Baba', it is obvious it would be able to say Ba first." She put a fine bottle of wine that was made and bottled before the rise of Lan.

Baiheng, of course, threw her hat behind Yingxing. Besides being very close to each other, she cited "Yanqing like saying Baba a lot, even if he says it to the soda and the tree. He's bound to recognize that it means Yingxing one day." She had placed a prized starskiff on the line, a vintage, racing starskiff she had repaired.

In the hope of encouraging his first word, they had put in a lot of effort to read aloud to Yanqing. During one of these story times, there was a fluffy, white cat on the cover of the novel. "This is a cat, Yanqing. They're quite cute and are all over the Luofu." Jing Yuan said as he pointed at the animal.

A month after the wager was made, Yanqing shouted his first word in the middle of a family dinner. The family was gathered around the table and Yanqing was seated in his high chair munching on yogurt bites. Mimi moved to poke Yanqing's nose with her cold nose, causing him to pull his feet back and laugh.

"CAT!" Yanqing shouted out, reaching his hand out to pet Mimi's mane. The word was met with a shocked silence before the dinner table descended into chaos.

"What did you say Yanqing?" Jing Yuan picked his son out of the high chair. "Cat! Cat!" Yanqing kept reaching for Mimi, who had started eating the yogurt bites Yanqing left on the table.

Dan Feng's face was a mixture of ecstatic joy and slight disappointment. Yingxing was still frozen in shock before bursting into laughter when Yanqing pointed at Baiheng's ear and shouted "Cat!" Jingliu found the whole thing incredibly amusing and had the bottle of wine opened in celebration of Yanqing's first word.

This development led Yanqing to start calling anything fluffy, white, and/or pointed-eared "CAT!"

Jing Yuan? Cat.

Tingyun's little foxes? Cat.

Yukong, Tinyun, and Qingni? Cat.

Many, many things in Yanqing's little world were called "Cat" which may have been for the best considering what items were on the line.

#yanqing #yanqing’s happy family au #honkai star rail #jing yuan #yingxing #dan feng #hsr #yanqing's happy family au asks #baiheng #jingliu #mimi

[live-laugh-lenney]

Can you do a hesdcannon of like george as a husband because I feel like boyfriend george and husband george would be very different?

oh the idea of husband george is a killer. we can definitely dwell more on this...

-> he becomes a lot more mature.

-> breakfast in bed. -> a few days of the week, his days usually start a little earlier than hers because he tries to squeeze in a session at the gym before he's away from home for the day so he'll make her a bowl of granola and yogurt with lots of fruit and leave it in the fridge to she can eat it as soon as she's up. -> on special occasions, he'll surprise her with a cooked breakfast. pancakes and strawberries with egg and beans on toast on another plate, freshly squeezed orange juice and an iced coffee. -> and it goes the other way, of course. -> sometimes, she'll wake up earlier than him and surprise him with french toast or a pile of pancakes or a full english breakfast if he has a long travel day ahead of him.

-> he always makes time for her. -> "just because we're married, it doesn't mean i don't want to spend time with you." -> when her days are long and she's rushed off her feet with work, he'll put together a special at-home dinner date where he pulls out all the stops - everything they eat is homemade, the candles are lit, the table is set, he has an expensive bottle of white wine on ice and he has soft and gentle music playing as opposed to his usual playlist and it makes her feel instantly relaxed. -> they always go out on dates. sometimes it'll just be drinks at a pub. sometimes it'll be something fun like bowling or mini-golf. but most of the time, they'll take turns finding a restaurant and they treat the other to a lovely night. -> "i still appreciate you and everything you do for me."

-> he's much more helpful. -> if she's away, he'll clean up after himself as opposed to leaving it all for her to come back to. -> there are times when he joins her in a spring clean - reaching all the high spots where she struggles to reach, doing the washing for her so she can do other things around the house, helping her reorganise their home to open the space up a bit more. -> and he definitely dabbles in a little DIY. -> putting up shelves, hanging photos up on the wall, building all the new furniture that she buys and having his say in where different bits should go.

-> he's a lot more seen, too. -> where they finally live together, and where he works from home most of the time, she knows he'll be there when she arrives home from her work... unless he's away for a shoot or for a brand deal or for a lads trip away to the slopes. -> and when he is away, he's making her feel like she's there. calling her all the time, face-timing her when she's on a break, texting her and sending her photos so she can feel somewhat included in what he's up to. -> there's just something that makes yn feel warm on the inside when she remembers he's there to give her a cuddle when she walks through the front door. even more so when she's had a rough day and needs some kind of solace to help her forget everything that had gone on. xx

#george clarkey #george clarkey imagines #george clarkey fics #george clarkey headcannons #george clarkey blurbs #george clarke #george clarke fics #geoge clarke headcannons #george clarke blurbs #george clarke imagines