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jamiewintons · 1 year

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Good Enough To Eat (OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji/F!Reader)

Summary: You and your boyfriend Sanji end up spending some time alone in the kitchen of Baratie.

Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY), public/semi public sex, praise kink, ‘good girl’ kink, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering.

A/N: Hey guys! My first non-Mat fic in literal years! This wasn’t meant to end up so long (not that 1400 words is that long) but I got a bit carried away. It’s really just all vibes. Please know that I’ve never seen the One Piece anime or read the manga, so this is based purely on the live action series. Hope you enjoy!! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated :)

Word Count: 1402

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~~~

"You look good enough to eat, darling," Sanji told you as he ran his hands up and down your legs, giving you that easy, confident smile that always made your heart melt. The feeling of his strong, talented hands against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs made you shudder, and Sanji’s smile only grew as he sensed your arousal.

You were seated on the counter in the kitchen of Baratie, with Sanji kneeling on the floor between your legs. You knew that the two of you shouldn’t have been doing this here — you couldn’t count the amount of times that you got told off by Zeff for making out in the pantry, and you weren’t exactly looking for a repeat of that — but once Sanji kissed you and ever so gently pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together and his hands holding your hips, you knew that there was no way you were going to say no.

And now here you were, a complete flustered mess, although Sanji had barely even touched you yet. He was just like that; he could drive you insane with desire with just a simple touch, or even a look, and the worst part was, he knew what he did to you. Sanji laughed quietly as he felt your body quiver while his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Oh, darling, you’re so needy," he teased, closing his eyes as he savoured the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. At a snail’s pace he moved further up your leg, until he was mere inches away from the place you needed him most. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

"Please," you sighed, and Sanji laughed once again, though this time it sounded more like a mere exhalation. "Sanji… please."

"Patience," he told you, before moving to your other thigh and repeating the same routine of peppering kisses all over it until you were whimpering beneath his ministrations. "Let me worship your beautiful body the way you deserve."

You closed your eyes, your entire body tingling as your arousal grew to levels you never knew you were even capable of feeling. Though you couldn’t see them, you just knew that beneath your dress your panties were already completely soaked through. You wanted Sanji to just get to the point and give you what you needed already, but you knew that he was right, and that the anticipation, the build-up would ensure the end result was even more wonderful. Just like with food, Sanji would tell you.

When you felt Sanji’s hands slip beneath the hem of your dress, that was when your eyes shot back open. He slowly pushed it up, revealing your cotton panties. "You’re absolutely soaked for me, darling." Even if you weren’t looking at him, you’d be able to tell that he was smirking by the tone in his voice - a mix of smugness and reverence. He brought his thumb to the front of your panties, gently teasing the wet patch on the fabric and making you whimper. "So sensitive, sweetheart. You must be really worked up."

"Well, you have been at this for at least an hour," you complained, trying to sound firm but your voice came out shaky and desperate. Sanji pressed a little harder, and you let out another soft noise.

"It’s not been quite that long, but I’ll forgive you. I’m sure you’re having a hard time concentrating," Sanji said with a self-satisfied grin, before hooking his fingers into the waist of your panties and slowly pulling them down your legs. Without the pesky fabric in the way, your arousal was even more obvious, and Sanji’s eyes lit up as he saw the physical proof of how much he affected you. "Remember when I said you looked good enough to eat?"

With that, Sanji pulled you a little closer to the edge of the counter you were perched on. He leaned in and ran his tongue between your swollen lower lips, a slow lick from your entrance up to your aching clit that made your entire body shudder. The sound that came out of your mouth was somewhere between a moan and a sigh of relief, and it made Sanji let out yet another breathless laugh.

He focused on your clit, alternating between quick licks with the tip of his tongue and slow, languid strokes using the entire organ. Your fingers came to rest on top of Sanji’s head as he pleasured you, threading through the soft blond strands and tugging lightly. This only encouraged him to double down his efforts, following your moans and whimpers to find the best way to please you.

"You taste incredible, darling. Better than anything I’ve ever tasted," Sanji whispered, his words sounding like warm honey, as he pulled his mouth away from your pussy. But he wasn’t idle for long, because only a few seconds later he grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders before diving back in to eat you out with even more enthusiasm.

"O-oh fuck, Sanji… feels so good," you gasped out, your thighs shaking as Sanji vigorously devoured you like he was a starved man and you were the first food he’d encountered in weeks. You’d never felt as good in your life as you did with Sanji, he was as much of a talented lover as he was a chef, and you thanked your lucky stars every day that you got to be with him.

"That’s it, good girl," Sanji praised gently, those simple words making your pleasure intensify and your hips buck against his face. You then felt his fingers teasing at your entrance, and let out a gasp as he pushed two inside your fluttering walls. "Just sit back and let me take care of you."

Your breathing was getting heavier, you quiet moans becoming louder and more desperate as Sanji worked magic on you with his tongue and fingers. He crooked his digits to stimulate your g-spot, and you knew that it wouldn’t be long until you fell apart for him. "S-Sanji, I’m… I’m close…"

Sanji would have known that you were on the brink, even if you hadn’t said anything, but fuck, did he love to hear you say it. To hear your voice so desperate for him, all because of him. Honestly, it turned him on more than anything possible could. His cock throbbed within his trousers with the thought of being inside of you again, but right now was about you, not about him, and he wanted to give you everything that you needed.

When he felt your pussy beginning to tighten around his fingers, he looked up at you, seeing your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. But more than anything, he wanted to see your eyes, to see how they widened as he brought you to complete ecstasy. "Look at me, darling. I want you to look at me when I make you cum," he told you in a tone that was both gentle and firm, one that you couldn’t help but listen to.

When you looked down at Sanji’s face, the sight of his blue-green eyes darkened with lust — along with how he massaged your sweet spot with his fingers and sucked on your swollen clit — was enough to push you over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm. You cried out his name, your hips bucking and your velvety walls contracting around his fingers. Sanji guided you through your high, not stopping until you went completely limp, and he made sure he was standing to catch you when you did.

"You did so well for me, darling," he praised, one of his hands threading though your hair as he pressed gentle kisses to your flushed face. Once he was sure you could keep yourself upright, he took the fingers of his other hand — the one that he had been using to pleasure you — into his mouth, licking off your essence and moaning as if he had just eaten a delicious meal. "Let’s go back to my room, sweetheart. I’m not quite finished enjoying you tonight."

You allowed Sanji to lead you out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, his hand firmly held in yours, feeling your heart fluttering with excitement. You already knew that you were going to struggle to walk tomorrow, and you couldn’t wait.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #opla imagine #opla fanfiction #mari's stuff #nsft text #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #I hope you guys like this 🙈

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kangals · 5 months

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what does the grooming process look like for stellina and kep?

my 'process" for grooming is very much what i would call 'poor man's dog training':

get a silicone lick-mat

apply peanut butter very generously

slap that bad boy onto the front of the fridge/kitchen appliances at dog eye-level

groom while they're distracted

i start this process day 1 as puppies and continue it through their whole lives. should i actually be putting in the effort to actually train them to stand still and quietly for grooming without the need for food distraction? yes. do i? no i'm lazy.

or if you're asking about like, what grooming i'm actually doing:

hair: i do an all-over brush at least once a week (should do twice but again, lazy and not needed). takes like 20-30 mins. my 'schedule' for brushing is basically this:

red areas (behind ears, arm/legpits) are high-friction and very prone to matting. these you have to brush out at least once a week, no exceptions, or you will get mats. this is also very sensitive skin so it's good to desensitize them to brushing as much as you can.

yellow areas should be brushed at least once weekly to comb out any tangles and debris, but are less prone to matting.

and then the rest of them i'll brush through but that's about it, that part pretty much never tangles.

i normally just use a pin brush and slicker brush, and a metal comb for the yellow/red areas. sometimes an undercoat rake if they're very sheddy.

collies are 'dry' dogs - they don't really drool, and they don't have the oily waterproof coat that breeds like a lab or hound does, so they're naturally low-odor without much of a 'doggy' smell. i'll bathe every 4-8 weeks depending on what the weather's like and if their skin seems like it's getting cruddy. 2-3 times a year i'll take them to a groomer to have them do a 'deshed' treatment where they really blow out the undercoat, because this makes a huge difference in keeping them comfortable in the heat, and in how much hair i have to vacuum.

for stellina i've also been getting an outline trim (shortening up the yellow areas on the pic with long feathering) in spring and fall, it just keeps things cleaner and it makes a huge difference in the amount of time i have to spend brushing.

feet: i dremel nails every week, same PB-mat method as with brushing. every week is probably overkill but i think it's good desensitization and also i hate long nails on dogs so i'm a bit anal about it. collies tend to get long hair on the feet/between the pads, some people like the 'grinch feet' look but personally i fucking hate it so every 4-6 weeks i just take round-tip scissors and clean them up.

other: the rest i do as needed, e.g. if i see any wax/debris in the ears i'll do a clean with OTC ear cleaner and a cotton ball. one of stellina's eyes tends to be teary, so about once a week i take a warm washcloth and wipe them down to prevent tear stains. and then i vacuum my house weekly, sometimes every 2 weeks if it's not too bad.

honestly i'm writing a lot but what i've listed here is way less than 1 hour a week on average, collies IMO are not particularly high-grooming needs dogs (compared to, say, a doodle or OES that needs daily brushing and regular professional grooming). i find the grooming and hair totally manageable. i honestly prefer dealing with long hair because it tends to clump together on the ground, rather than short hairs that fly and scatter into everything. people tend to see roughs and go 'oh no way too much hair' but like, it is super manageable as long as you've got half an hour at some point each week to brush your dog. i'm very obsessive about my pets being 'neat' and i do fine.

sorry for the incredibly overly-long answer to your very simple ask lmao

#long post

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

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73 Questions With The Barzals

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic (the vogue series)

warnings: mentions giving birth, reader and Mat slap each other’s ass, alludes to sex, and I think that’s all

You look at your appearance in your mirror strategically placed by the entrance. You fix your hair that’s in its familiar messy updo, your favorite silver hoop earrings on display.

You smooth out your dark blue pullover (that was Mat’s) and adjust your light grey, cotton shorts. Your outfit is very simple and casual, probably too simple and casual for the video you’re about to film, but when you’ve just given birth not too long ago, comfort is what matters most.

The knock on your front door gathers your attention, you take deep breaths, mentally preparing for this vogue interview. You know your fans and Mat’s fans will be excited to hear your answers to some of the questions and get a tour of one of your homes.

Your face lights up in a smile upon opening your door, “hi!”

You’re leaned up against the doorframe, ultimately blocking the view inside of your home, but it gives the cameraman a perfect shot of some of your home’s exterior.

“Hi, y/n! Thank you so much for having me over,” Joe Sabia greets.

“Of course!”

“Can I just say that you have a beautiful home, and especially for it being your Italy home,” Joe gushes, looking around in awe.

“Thank you so much! That’s one of my favorite compliments because Mat and I have put so much into this place to make it our home away from home,” you can hear the warmth and appreciation in your voice.

“Can we go on in?”

“Yes, please come in,” you move to the side, allowing Vogue’s crew to come in.

“How does it feel to be added to the list of celebrities doing Vogue’s 73 questions?”

“I am excited and honored. I know Mat’s excited, too,” you answer and move to your kitchen.

“Why the color green for your kitchen?”

“Ugh I just love the color green. My kitchen in our first New York home was green, and it was my favorite, but then we moved into a bigger home and I decided to not have it green. That’s why this kitchen is extra special to me. Plus, this kitchen holds a lot of memories,” you smile, thinking about everything that’s happened in this kitchen.

“That’s sweet. What’s the first memory of this kitchen that pops in your head?”

“Earlier this week! I was in here, cutting up some fruit for the boys and they were supposed to be in the family room with Mat just playing with toys, but Angel walked to the kitchen. It was his first steps and I just remember calling out for Mat and Angel walking to him as well. We were crying messes,” you recall.

“Congratulations to your son, I know moments like those are the most special. Speaking of children and special moments, you just welcomed your third baby and first girl into the world about a month ago. Congratulations to you.”

“Yes, thank you. She’s my special girl and she’s so spoiled already, especially with Mat.” Your cheeks get rosy, feeling an overwhelming amount of love fill your heart at the thought of Mat being the best dad he is.

“What’s something you learned when you became a parent?”

“Responsibility. It’s easy to lose a handle on yourself and life when you’re solo, so when you have other humans to take care of, you learn more about what responsibility looks like.”

“Favorite summer drink?”

“A very cold glass of water or a cherry limeade,” you laugh at the random question.

“Mama!!” You grin when you hear Nolan’s shout, knowing he’s about to jump into your arms and cling to you.

When you see him running towards you, you prepare for his tiny impact and easily lift him up. You push his hair out of his face, but it’s no use as he hides in your neck.

“My big boy! Wanna say ‘hi’ to the camera?” You rub softly on his back, feeling him melt into your touch much like Mat does when you embrace him after a tough game or a long roadie.

“Hi,” he says shyly.

“I want daddy,” he adds in, hands on your cheeks. He gives you those big puppy eyes.

“Daddy?” Your youngest son, Angel waddles around, interest piqued at the mention of his father.

“Y’all want to see daddy? Well, I guess it’s time to take a detour outside,” you say to the camera before telling them to follow you to the back.

The camera captures you holding both your boys while also grabbing the baby monitor, so you can keep an ear out for Sloane as she’s napping. You walk with an effortless strut even though your feet haven’t touched a runway in months.

When you step onto the warm cobblestone of your back patio, the camera gets a view of your boys wiggling in your hold. They press quick kisses to your cheeks, something Mat taught them to do whenever they were leaving your presence, and beelined straight into Mat’s thick legs. He is pining clothes to dry, but the minute the pitter-patters reach his ears, he’s all focused on his babies.

You stand by, enjoying Mat as he’s shirtless in all his beautiful glory. Your eyes sparkle with love when you watch him pick up both boys with ease. Your eyes also glimmer with tones of want as you see the way his muscles flex and veins bulge out from underneath his skin.

The sweet giggles coming from Nolan and Angel pull you towards them. Mat’s tickling their stomach, simply unaware that there are cameras near.

He finally looks up, connecting eyes with you. You smile and tilt your head towards the cameras and he just nods, beckoning you closer to him.

“Mat, it’s nice to see you man,” the interviewer breaks the silence.

“Hey, guys. Welcome to our home,” Mat greets, handing Nolan into your arms so he can wrap his hand around your waist.

“Y/n, what’s your favorite thing about Mat becoming a dad?”

“He’s so gentle, not that he wasn’t ever gentle with me, he was, but he is such a big softie for his babies. He’s also really matured, it’s fascinating seeing him learn something new everyday,” you answer with sincerity and a loving gaze locked on his shy smile. Mat stays quiet, kissing Angel on his temple before reaching over to kiss you and Nolan.

“Mat, what’s your favorite thing about seeing y/n become a mom?”

“I get to witness the force of nature that is my wife. The way she takes care of all of us, and just struts her way through. She makes it look so easy, so I guess that’s why I love to see her in action because I know raising children isn’t easy.”

Your cheeks heat up and you make your way to Mat, hugging his body to yours.

Mat kisses your cheek, choosing to ignore the cameras capturing your pda, and whispers in your ear that he’s going to check on Sloane. Choosing to ignore the camera’s presence as well, you give him a chaste kiss on the lips and slap his ass as he goes upstairs.

“Sorry. I get so caught up in Mat sometimes everything else disappears,” you admit shyly, fingers lingering on your lips.

“It’s okay. The rawness is good. So, New York or Italy?”

“New York!”

“Favorite tattoo?”

“I have quite a few favorites. Firstly, my “angel” and “Nolan” tattoos are ones I adore. I also love the “13” I have for Mat. I also love my cherry tattoo, it’s my first one I ever got. Lastly, my “divine feminine” tattoo because Mat loves tracing that one all the time,” you explain.

“Oh! I almost forgot, I’m getting a tattoo for my daughter soon, so that’ll be another favorite,” you add.

“Biggest fear?”

“It used to be heights, but since becoming a wife and mother, my biggest fear is my husband or children getting hurt. However, I’m still scared of heights. Becoming a mom has made me much stronger, but I’m no superhero.”

“I beg to differ,” Mat chimes in, coming down the stairs with your newest bundle of joy nestled in his strong arms.

“Is that my precious baby girl?! It is,” you say before turning your attention to the camera. “This is the first glimpse that the public is getting of her and we’re excited!” You rub your nose against her baby smooth cheek, inhaling her scent.

“Everyone, this is Sloane Augustine Barzal,” Mat introduces Sloane. The camera zooms in on her sweet face. She’s barely awake, but her grasp on Mat’s finger doesn’t let up.

“She’s adorable, guys,” the man compliments.

“Thank you. I think she looks just like barzy,” you say.

“Why the name Sloane?”

“Mat is actually the one who chose the name. We both made a list of S names and he chose Sloane,” you explain.

You guide everyone back outside to sit on the outside furniture. You and Mat are on a couch in front of the camera, Nolan and Angel sitting next to you playing with some toys while Sloane stays tucked in Mat’s arms.

“Mat, what are you looking forward to in the future?”

Mat looks up, pondering his answer before saying, “seeing how tall Nolan gets!” Mat jokes which make you giggle and card your fingers through Nolan’s hair. He’s getting so big and you can’t stop time. “No I look forward to the little mundane things. For example, Y/n and I taking our kids on vacation, or just even having pregame naps in our bed. I sound like a sap, but ever since becoming a father, they’re the only ones I think about when I think of my future,” Mat finishes, making you look at him with a loving look.

“What’s your favorite photo shoot?”

Excitement takes over your features, your body sits up straighter and your eyes light up.

“The one I did for Rolling Stone! I got to dress up in super fun outfits! And most importantly, Mat joined me on that one and it was just a sexy time,” you peer up at Mat, hand finding its place on the back of his neck, and you smirk at him while the flashbacks of that day pop in your head. He matches your smirk and rests his arm around the tops of your shoulders.

“That was a fun time. A time when I truly understood how much fun it can be to change your wardrobe or hairstyle,” Mat says.

“Don’t go getting any ideas about another haircut,” you tease, resulting in him pinching you lightly.

“Can I just compliment your relationship? I can see how genuine the love is and the bond between your family. It’s really refreshing,” the interviewer says sincerely.

“Thank you so much. That means a lot,” you reply and Mat agrees.

“What’s something you wouldn’t change about the past?”

“The way Mat and I communicated in the early stages of our relationship. It really helped us grow as people and as partners. I know there are people who wish they were more communicative, but I appreciate the time and effort we both took to learn how to properly talk with each other. No one really knows that we had a communication issue in our relationship, so I won’t get into great detail,” you rant a little.

“We were good at feeling a lot of emotions, but bad at expressing them verbally with each other. I’m so glad that she was willing to have patience with me in the beginning of our relationship,” Mat adds in, shining the tiniest bit of light on a major relationship issue you’ve had in the past.

“I like that answer. Thank you for being honest.”

You nod your head and give an appreciative smile.

“Favorite memory of Italy?”

The way both Mat’s and your face light up is all telling about how in tune you are with each other.

“The first time we came to Italy together. It’s cliche, but I just knew Mat was my person.” You reach out to caress Mat’s cheek, falling more in love when he nuzzles into the warmth of your palm.

“It’s true! Italy is a place that will always feel like home, and bringing Y/n was allowing her to build a home in my heart. It was such a fun trip. We got to learn about each other more while experiencing new things together. I will never forget that feeling of intense love. It’s even more special that we get to bring our kids here and have a home here.”

You start to tear up, immediately pulling Angel into your lap so you can hide your face in his soft hair. You make sure to give him multiple kisses. This, however, makes Nolan just a tad jealous, so he moves to wrap his arms around your shoulders and gives you kisses on the cheek.

“We feel left out,” Mat breaks you out of your kiss attack, leaning towards you to kiss you on the lips. For the sake of the cameras you keep it soft and quick, but it’s also quick so you can give kisses to Sloane.

“We’re nearing the end of this interview. It’s been a lovely one. I will be the first to say I don’t want this to end.”

“Aww thank you for being an incredible interviewer and for picking my brain. This has been a delight.”

“Okay! Favorite material thing?”

“My wedding rings. Hands down. It’s so special to me, especially because Mat designed it himself. Little fun fact: my wedding band has the initials of each kid engraved on the inside,” you gush.

“Mat, please do tell us the story of why you designed her ring the way you did.”

Mat’s face goes red in a flush, getting shy at the world finding out how sentimental he really is.

“It wasn’t hard. Two diamonds being joined together: toi et moi (you and me) and I love the concept. Plus, I know Y/n loves rings, so I had to make sure the diamonds were Y/n’s favorite shapes. The wedding band itself is simple. Although I had Nolan’s initial engraved already, the other two were just added at later times. As for the other band of smaller diamonds, I picked out for our first wedding anniversary, symbolizing the many moments that will forever be on the forefront of my brain and heart,” you want to squeal and lunge yourself into Mat’s arms. He is such a sweetie. You love him so much.

“That’s really sweet.”

“He’s a sap and I love him for it,” you muse, knowing Mat will roll his eyes even though he’ll blush more.

“This is our final question, so I’ll make it an easy one. What is your favorite room in this house?”

“Easy? That’s a hard question! Oh… I don’t know. I love my babies’ rooms, but my closet is the first thing to come to mind. I do love my kitchen so much, but I already talked about that, so I’ll say my closet,” you claim.

“She loves spending hours in there,” Mat chimes in, throwing you a teasing wink.

“I am grateful for everything I own, so that means I admire all my items. I’m a material girl at heart, so yes I do love spending hours in my closet to organize or just to simply admire. You spend a while in your closet, too, hotshot,” you tease back.

“I love the harmless banter. Guys, this has been incredible. Your home is lovely as well as you all. Thank you for having us in your home and for being so welcoming,” the interview closes the interview.

“Thank you for having us. It’s an honor to do this interview. I had a good time. I hope there will be more Vogue interviews in my future,” you say back, smiling your signature smile.

It’s around 30 minutes after you bid your goodbyes to the cameras that they’re turned off, and you’re once again biding your goodbyes.

When the house is calm and just your family, Mat pulls you into a deep kiss, making sure to dip his tongue into your waiting mouth.

“I have been wanting to do that the whole time,” he whispers against your lips.

“So why didn’t you?” You tease, nipping at his bottom lip and pulling a groan from him.

“I wouldn’t have been able to stop,” he says surely.

“It would’ve been a whole different kind of video,” you muse, smirking up at him while your arms are resting over his shoulders.

“No doubt and that content is for our eyes only.”

You decide against saying anything back, just leaning up to kiss him again. Sloane has other plans, though. Her cries ring throughout the house, bouncing off the walls.

“That’s your daughter,” you playfully chide.

“Your daughter.”

“She’s the result of you not knowing how to keep your hands off me,” you bite back.

“No. More like the other way around,” Mat replies, tickling you on your stomach.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, hotshot,” you whisper against his lips, not kissing him and running to get Sloane, but not before he sends you with a smack on your ass.

a/n: FINALLY! The first part of the vogue series is here, and I hope you all enjoy it.

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal angst #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses #vogue series

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the-purity-pen · 1 year

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Lights Out

Santiago Garcia x AFAB!Reader (no y/n)

rating: EXPLICIT (NO MINORS)

warnings: oral (afab receiving), fluff and feels (be warned)

words: 2.9k

a/n: this comes from a request from my lovely bestie @flightlessangelwings. it uh... well it got away from me a bit and therefore is a full fic. talk about coming back to tumblr fanfic writing with a vengence. sorry not sorry.

The storm outside was loud. So loud that every boom of thunder felt like it was shaking your entire house. You held your cat on your lap while on the couch, curled up with your favorite blanket, and the television turned on to the romance movie you had started earlier in the week. The plus side to working for the small town bar was that your boss, your best friend, didn’t force you to come in during storms.

The unexpected night off meant you got comfy in a large oversized t-shirt and soft cotton sleep shorts. Which was the call for the blanket as the temperature outside cooled down more than you were expecting. Your calico Ellie also helped keep you warm as she purred on your lap.

The lights flickered, but nothing else seemed affected, so you ignored it and returned to watching the movie. After months of built-up flirting, the male protagonist had just gotten the nerve to kiss the female protagonist. His hand on her chin made goosebumps rise along your skin. You were hopelessly romantic and loved all those movies and seeing the characters kiss for the first time. It was electric, and you always dreamed of having that for yourself.

The lights flickered three more times in rapid succession before everything went dark. Even though your heart rate elevated with anxiety, you managed a breath before muttering, “Damn it,” and getting up from your comfortable spot. Ellie gave a soft chirping meow to let you know that she didn’t like being moved, but she managed to get to the other end of the couch and curl back up to sleep. You shook your head at her before heading to the kitchen. In one of the drawers, you dug through the piles of receipts and take-out menus, rubber bands, and scotch tape until you found the little purple sparkly flashlight.

Just as you pull it out to turn it on, a loud knock at your door makes you jump—your heart races as you try to steady your breathing. You get the flashlight turned on just before you reach your front door. You peeked out the top window from your tiptoes just enough to see the top of a head covered in onyx-colored curls. You opened the door to find Santiago, your neighbor, soaked to the bone and panting.

“Santi,” you sighed as you lowered the flashlight and stepped back to allow him inside. His head is lowered as he steps in but remains on the indoor welcome mat, seemingly trying not to drip water all over your hardwood floor. You closed the door, rushed to the oven to grab the hand towel, and handed it to him. He offered a soft “thanks” while drying his face and arms.

“Well, I see you’re out of power too,” Santi mentions as he stands up straighter and looks around your living room with a soft chuckle, then back to you.

“Just lost it. Interrupted my movie too,” you offer with a soft laugh; turning off the flashlight as the moon glows from outside is enough to see Santi as you converse.

After an awkward silence, Santi hands the now-damp towel back to you, and you put it on the counter beside you.

“Didn’t know if you and Ellie needed anything,” he finally spoke after clearing his throat. His brows lifted as he looked at you. Even in the dark, there was no denying how handsome Santi was. Add in how wonderful of a neighbor he had been over the last year since you moved in, and he was pretty accurately the perfect man.

He had helped change the spark plugs in your car, repaired the front gutter, helped build your back deck, and replaced the upstairs bath’s faucet. All for free. He never asked for anything in return except for some free pastries when he’d stop by your bakery. You couldn’t say no. His sweet tooth was like no other, and for the rugged man he appeared to be, knowing he had a soft spot for your cupcakes and brownies made you just that little bit mushier.

“It’s fine. We’ve survived worse,” you commented, a wry laugh being pulled from you. The words and meanings were heavier than you intended them to be. Santi seemed to catch on as he stared after you, watching you move further into the kitchen.

“Did you want some water?” you offered as you reached into the cupboard for two glasses. The fridge, thankfully, still worked for a few minutes after a power outage. You knew it would eventually run out of the reserved energy to keep things cold, but at least you had the water jug in there.

“Sure,” Santi answered, wiping his feet before venturing toward you over at the sink. But as he waited, he did so very close to the side of the fridge. You turned after filling the first glass and bumped into him with your elbow, causing the cold water to splash onto you, eliciting a shriek.

“Oh! Shit, I’m so sorry,” Santi started apologizing and immediately grabbed the towel from the counter you had let him use. He started patting you down with it, but the dampness of the towel from his usage and the cold water already absorbing into your shirt caused you to shiver and shake your head. You set the glass on the counter by the fridge and mumbled to him that you were okay. He handed you the towel but stood dumbfounded as he watched you.

“Are you sure? Can I get you something else? Where are your other towels?” he asked rapidly before hurrying around the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets to find something else to dry you off.

“Santi,” you said with a laugh. “I’m good. Let me get changed. Help yourself to the water, though. I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared around the corner and down the hall. Stripping off the T-shirt once in your bedroom, you opened your wardrobe to find... nothing else in the comfort level to be worn. Your dirty laundry was still in the washer in the basement, and you hadn’t switched it over to the dryer before the storm. You mentally and physically facepalmed. “Great,” you muttered before closing the drawer and moving to your closet. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but it would have to do.

Walking back out toward the kitchen, fiddling with the buttons on your ex’s dress shirt, you didn’t notice Santi had moved, and you ran head-first into his solid chest. “Whoa,” he laughed, his arms coming out to steady your shoulders. His hands were warm on your cold skin, even through the shirt's material.

You swallowed thickly as you looked up at him. The moment was fleeting, but it was there, and you swore you saw the sparkle in his deep brown eyes. But perhaps that was just the lights flickering back on. You heard all the machines in your kitchen turn on, and it must have cleared Santi’s mind because he, too, backed away and cleared his throat.

“Well, look at that,” he said and nodded slowly, looking around to see everything turn back on - including the television. The movie must have paused when the power went out because it picked right back up where it had left off. The two main characters were getting into their kissing, and the music was swelling, indicating which direction things were going in.

“Oh!” you shouted as the moans from the actors started to fill the room and romantic close-ups of their bodies began to show on the screen. You practically fumbled and ran from Santi to find the remote. The moaning and panting got louder, and you swore the remote was on the couch. You bent in strange ways, trying to see it, lifting the blanket from where it had crumpled, and felt your heart racing faster and faster with each passing moment.

Santi looked on, bemused, a smirk on his lips, taking a mental note of what kind of movies you enjoyed. Was it because he wanted to know you a bit better? Yes. Was it also because the noises from the tv sounded erotic and affected him? Also yes. And how you bent over at one certain angle, perhaps giving him the slightest hint of the bottom of your backside? Absolutely yes.

He walked over after you seemed to be failing at locating the remote. “Can I help?” he asked, standing closer to the tv, the actors getting into the steamy sex scene now. You could barely hear him over the thumping in your ears from your heart. Where the fuck did that little remote go, and why was there so much moaning on the television now?

You turned and saw Santi watching the tv as the sex scene played. It was rather raunchy for being a romance film, but it was steamy and sexy, and you swallowed thickly. You cleared your throat, staring at how Santi watched the scene play out.

“What movie is this?” he asked before facing you and noticing you staring at him.

Caught off guard, you stumbled through an answer. “Oh, uh, it’s just some romance movie based on a book series.” Vague, yes. Keep it vague.

Santi’s smirk took over, and your knees would buckle if it were a romance movie like the one on your screen. He was so ruggedly handsome, and you were brought back to just a few minutes before when his hands were on you. The feeling had this moment of staring at each other, turning you into a puddle. Especially as Santi moved away from the tv and toward you, his head cocked to one side, seemingly studying you.

“Do you like romance novels? And movies?”

There was no judgment, no mocking in his tone. He was genuinely asking. You quickly ran through the scenarios of what a yes answer and a denying no answer could look like. You opted for honesty. After all, other than your crush on him, your neighborly friendship with him had always been honest and straightforward.

You nodded as he moved closer and now stood directly before you. His nod was much slower than yours, thoughtful, and you noticed all of the stubble along his jaw. That hadn’t been there the last time you had seen him. But it suited him. His hand gently came up in front of your chest but paused, his eyes searching yours. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and back as your head gently nodded.

His rough, calloused hand ghosted in front of your chest and to your jawline. The contrast of the feel of his hand against your jaw and your skin caused both of you to take shuddering breaths in. “So you enjoy the idea of being kissed… softly?” Santi asked, his soft, graveling tone sending a shiver down your body.

Your heart felt like it had jumped into your throat, making words hard to come out. Instead, you nodded and breathed in, holding it. Your gaze on Santi was soft but begging him to move even closer. You had wanted to feel his kiss for so long, but you didn’t know that he even had an inkling of romantic feelings toward you.

“May I?”

The question surprised you. Santi didn’t seem the type to ask. You had seen him with women at the neighborhood picnics and gatherings. He always seemed so in control and cocky. The first time you officially introduced yourself to him, his smirk nearly made you hate him because he looked so full of himself.

But it was becoming more apparent that that was a facade, and with that, you nodded and mumbled a soft “please” in answer. His look was pure contentment as he leaned in, his hand sliding over to hold your chin and lifting it ever so slightly. He leaned in, his lips nearly at yours before he spoke, causing you to whimper.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for six months.”

You blinked and looked up at him. Your face did a slight double take, blinking harder.

“What?”

“I came over to help you fix more stuff because I had this ridiculous fantasy of coming over sometime and finding you half-dressed. I’d take you on the couch and devour you, tasting all of you. Like some romance movie,” he admitted, and your entire body became alight with lust. You couldn’t even stop your hands as they lifted to his fitted t-shirt and gripped the front of it, pulling him to you so that his lips had no choice but to land on yours.

The groans he let out let you know that you had done something right in taking the first move. His free hand slid down the side of your body to your hip, where his rough fingertips dug into your flesh, crumpling the shirt. You took a step back, tugging him with you until your knees buckled at the couch, and you both landed, Santi’s knee on the left side of you on the sofa.

Your hands moved up to his face, cupping his scruffed jaw. His lips chased yours, but you had other plans as you held his face and moved your lips along his cheek and to the soft spot behind his ear. Your tongue played against it, licking him before moving to his jugular. His hand on your chin slid down to cup your breast through the shirt, and you moaned, arching your back into his touch.

“Oh, that’s what you like, hm?” he breathed out, moving his face down to echo the licking and nibbling at your neck that you had just done to him. His smirk could be felt against your skin as you mewled in pleasure.

Hands moved all over; mouths continued to explore the upper parts of your bodies until they were reunited again in a heavier, hotter, more passionate kiss. Santi’s hand trailed down your body to between your legs, where he found your moist center. He groaned, his thumb pressing gently against the sensitive button that had your hips wildly thrusting toward him. His hand continued to move but in such a teasing manner that it was starting to frustrate you. Just having his body on yours was better than anything, but having his hand at your most needed part was already better than all your nights with your toys.

His mouth ventured down, suckling at your breast through the shirt, moistening it before moving down until he was on his knees on the floor in front of the couch and you. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing the oversized shirt out of his way. He leaned in, kissing up one thigh, then, when he barely reached your apex, his mouth moved to the other, starting the trail north.

“God, Santi, please,” you murmured, a mumble. Your brain was working on overdrive that this man would do this to live out the fantasy he had admitted to you.

His hands worked down your shorts and panties in one fell swoop. A master at undressing you already. Either that, or you were just that needy and desperate. He leaned in the moment he saw the glistening of your sex. His tongue swiping along your slit, bottom to top, your hands nestled into his curls.

“Santi.” You breathed out his name in pants and moans, and he was done for. His mouth closed over your warm cunt, lapping at you before stiffening his tongue and pressing into you. The curl of the muscle of his tongue pushing into you had your breath catching in your throat. His mouth was magic, and you were sure to come undone quickly.

But just as your peak nearly hit, your hips pressing up against his face, he pulled back, his hands pushing your hips back down. “Oh, baby. Not yet. I want to see you crumble and hear you scream, but I want to keep tastin’ you. I want to know that I’m making you shudder and shiver from pleasure. Okay?”

You whine, but if the last few minutes were any indication, Santi had no plans to leave the space between your legs soon. His tongue gently licked at you, to which you shuddered from sensitivity. His hands worked in slow circles on your thighs, and when his mouth wasn’t against you, his eyes were studying his fingers played gently against your clit, watching the way you would tense and clench around nothing.

And you were right. Three orgasms from his lips and mouth alone later, Santi finally comes up for air, his scruff glistening with your wetness. You reach out for him and pull his head up to you so that you can lean forward and capture his lips against yours. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and in his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

When you broke the kiss, Santi leaned his forehead against yours to catch his breath. “I.. am not done with you,” he grinned as he kissed you chastely and pulled back. Showing you the wicked grin on his lips and the devilish glint in his dark eyes. You laughed and shook your head.

“You really shouldn’t wait six months to kiss me next time,” you quipped. His chuckle seemed to rumble deep into his chest.

“Oh, so you’re sassy too, huh?” he laughed as his hands gently tickled your sides before sliding one up to hold your chin again to you could look directly into his eyes.

“I’m never waiting to kiss you ever again. Ever,” he told you sternly, the laughter dying off as his lips retook yours in a soft, gentle, but firm kiss.

#santiago garcia #santi garcia x reader #santiago garcia fic #santiago pope garcia #pope garcia #santiago garcia smut #pope garcia smut #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #afab!read #triple frontier #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #the purity pen

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souldagger · 3 months

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can you talk about how you made the costume please 🙏🙏🙏

:D sure!!! putting it under cut bc it's a lot lol

when i got the idea i had absolutely No clue as to how people even go abt cosplays like this, so step 0 was obviously One Billion Youtube Tutorials (this one - it's in polish but has eng subtitles - was my best friend <3 but there's really sooo many for every little aspect of making armor cosplay i owe them my life)

anyway. proceeding. assume every step takes a fuckton of trial and error and at least 3 failed attempts

REFERENCES:

collected all the covers where u can see mb's suit well, some fanarts that interpreted it in ways i liked, the 2 previous mb cosplays i found

PLANNING:

little to no planning (bad idea. btw.)

MATERIALS:

regular long-sleeved shirt+pants+cycling gloves+fanny pack. (sorry murderbot. but the armor piece over its crotch literally looks like a fanny pack)

the armor's made out of smth called EVA foam (similar to yoga mat in terms of texture/stiffness), had to order it from a cosplay-specific online shop

heat gun (i was lucky bc my dad's an amateur handyman and turned out to already have one) bc EVA foam's much easier to form+less absorbent when heated

contact glue (also known as contact cement) for glueing the armor pieces whole, superglue for details here and there

straps (the kind u use in backpacks etc)+plastic buckles+velcro. so much velcro. i'm never hand-sewing thru velcro again

wood glue+smth called glossy universal lacquer (p sure it's just car paint.) for painting

transparent plastic mask + rit dye for dyeing it (bc i couldn't find one that was already dark 😔)

tape+cling wrap for patterns

MAKING PATTERNS FOR ARMOR:

okay so. you wrap [Given Body Part] in cling wrap (yeah just regular kitchen cling wrap). put tape (i used duct tape at first but switched to masking tape bc it's cheaper) all over. draw, roughly, the shape you want the armor piece to be. cut urself out, cut away the excess edges, bam! pattern. like these:

(the chest piece was the tough part. i wanted the characteristic rounded shape so i didn't use cling wrap there, it was a lot of trial-and-error with cutting shapes out of paper, putting them against my chest, adjusting things, rinse&repeat.)

(also, the helmet - for the face shield i got these v cheap plastic masks that were advertised as lawn mowing masks (???), then tried to dye them black with Rit Dye for synthetics. that was a Whole Ordeal & my best try still turned out too see-through & more orange-tinted than i liked, but i was out of time so (shrug emoji). & for the pattern, i put on the mask + a beanie before wrapping my head in cling wrap dkjfgn)

i cut the patterns into shapes that could be flattened & copied them onto paper (to be able to transfer them onto foam more easily):

ACTUALLY MAKING THE PIECES:

the annoying part: outlining all patterns on the foam and cutting them out with a box cutter. This Sucks. then, shaping them with the heat gun. This Doesn't Work As Well As It's Supposed To. then, glueing the pieces together with contact glue. This Takes Ages.

(& it's like. near-impossible glueing them so the seams don't look terribly obvious 😭 i'm sure there's a way to cover it up well, but the method i tried (foam clay) worked Eh at best)

oh right also the. thingy around the neck. that's just a tube made out of some leggings i was gonna throw out. filled with a bunch of cotton i stole from a pillow. improvise adapt overcome

ATTACHING IT ALL:

That's Velcro, Baby 👍 it's either glued onto the foam or sewed onto the straps Everywhere. it's how the forearm & thigh & lower leg pieces close, how the chest & back pieces connect, how the face shield's made removable. Velcro All The Way Down.

the 2 exceptions: the thigh pieces are attached to a belt with some straps bc they kept sliding off; & the tiny armor pieces on my feet have a loop of string glued on the inside that i just pulled my shoelaces through

PAINTING:

the issue with EVA foam is that it absorbs stuff v easily, so before painting it i had to prime it (aka cover it in 2-4 protective layers of wood glue). then for actual painting, i sprayed all the pieces with 2 layers of universal lacquer (outside on some cardboard ofc). here it is all drying in the garage (bc it stank 💀):

and that's it!!!! done!!!! a bit over a month of work in total :]

#thank u for asking! hope it all makes sense (and if it doesnt i'd be happy to answer more questions)#going to bed now tho gn

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cosmorugs · 6 months

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COSMORUGS Hand Woven Cotton Kitchen Mats

Non-Slip Hand Woven Cotton Kitchen Mats!

Introducing the Cosmorugs Hand Woven Cotton Kitchen Mats, the perfect addition to any kitchen. These mats are made from 100% cotton and are hand woven to ensure the highest quality.

Soft and absorbent, these mats are perfect for keeping your floors dry and clean while you cook.

Available in a variety of colors and patterns, these mats are sure to add a touch of style to your kitchen decor.

#Kitchen Mats #Cotton Kitchen Mats #Non-Slip Mats #Cosmorugs

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waklman · 1 year

Text

Of Course He Loves Me

summary: your past comes back to haunt you, and your roomate jake is there to witness it.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: hurt/comfort. talks of past exploitive experiences, bad treatment of women, negative self talk, and allusions to sex. 18+ blog.

a/n: inspired by rhiannon mcgavin qoute shown above bc it reminds me of jake :)

word count: 3.6k.

“Do we want chocolate chips in our pancakes?” Jake asks, solemnly, waiting for you to make the executive decision.

“I think we do,” you confirm, matching his serious tone—twisting your middle to grab the said bag of sweets. The plastic crinkles when he takes it from you, with a pleased hum.

Jake sets it down, then quickly scans the spread in front of him. His eyebrows pinch together, realizing he’s missing just one item. “Pancake mix..” he lowly mutters to himself.

You scoot forward, aiming to hop off the counter to fetch it, but Jake stops you–pinning the hem of your sleep shirt down against the countertop with his hand, wordlessly telling you to stay put with a shake of his head. He doesn’t spare you a second to object–already guiding himself across the kitchen in search of the box of dry ingredients himself.

A defeated sigh slips your lips, looking ahead as he trudges off with heavy footsteps.

The towhead blond has yet to tame his bed head–there’s two pieces of hair sticking out each side of his head resembling ears, making him look like a newborn kitten.

While he slowly sifts through the cabinets, the sunlight filtering through the apartment reflects off something on his finger, drawing your attention away from the state of his hair. You softly smile to yourself, seeing the ring you had on last night, now sitting safely on his pinky finger. It was a drunken habit of yours—you somehow always lost track of your personal belongings on nights out. Knowing this, Jake made sure to keep your things under his care when you had too much to drink.

Your chest tightens in appreciation for him, there was no one who looked out for you the way he did.

“Whoever gets to marry you, has to be the luckiest girl in the world,” you announce quietly, looking down at your legs, bringing them to a slow stop–no longer unconsciously swinging them. You blink in recognition, seeing that at some point last night–he pulled a pair of fluffy socks onto your feet. You wiggle your toes, as all the events—previously muddled by alcohol, start to come back to you.

“Marriage? Darling, I thought we’d be roommates for life,” he quips with a light laugh, carrying the acquired box back over to join you and the rest of the ingredients.

“I’m serious, not everyone is lucky enough to have someone like you,” you try to laugh, but it falls short—now aware of the reason why you drank so much in the first place. Fuck.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you look past your own feet, searching for something to steady yourself on–and your eyes land right onto Jake’s feet. He has on a pair of your fluffy socks too, but they’re an older set, with matted tufts of cotton and elastic fibers scutching in on itself.

Jake sets down the box, putting a pause on breakfast for now, troubled by your abrupt silence. He can see from the corner of his eye that you’re just vacantly staring at the floor. Something about the shift in demeanor ticks off a warning signal in his head.

Then, it clicks. You got wasted last night, throwing back shots like it was nothing. When he tried to probe, you drunkenly told him you just wanted to try something new. And a part of Jake found it off-putting—you had an affinity for sweet drinks, so why the need for change?

A knowing concern coats his thoughts immediately.

“Did he text you again?” He asks, face unafraid. But deep in his gut, Jake feels the anxiety anchoring him down from where he stands, locking his knees in place. He wills himself to look away from the box mix in front of him, finally lifting his head up to look at you.

From your peripheral, you can see Jake’s eyes set on the side of your face, patiently waiting for a response. In no way does he rush you, but you feel hurried to give him an answer. Yet you can’t. The walls of your throat have already swelled thick, pressing together at the center, preventing you from speaking.

Jake swallows grimly, eyes dropping down to see you gripping onto the granite counter for dear life, knuckles tight and veins about to burst from excessive strain. After a beat of silence, he calmly moves around you, flipping on the sink beside you.

The panic that takes hold of you doesn’t allow you to see him test the temperature of the water, nor does it let you feel the way he carefully pries your hand from the counter, easing each finger off the cold ledge. You’re brought back once you feel a warm liquid run over your hand. It slips through your fingers and soothingly traces the skin of your wrist, that’s held by him–you can feel everything again.

Jake slowly takes in a breath, allowing you to mimic him. His eyes are still locked on you, and a brush of relief briefly sweeps his heart when he notices you taking languid breaths with him. Though, your gaze is still lowered, eyes focused on the lining of his socks.

After a few more steady exhales, you attempt to reply to Jake’s question again–but embarrassment enters your system, holding you back. You chose to slowly nod instead, knowing he’ll understand. “Okay, I see,” Jake answers cautiously, keeping his voice low.

He’s still holding your hand under the running water, with both of you acutely aware of the deja vu that washes over this familiar exchange of words. It’s almost a pitiful routine that you two fall into every year–all starting with a text from your ex-boyfriend each time.

It’s as though you could never get rid of him—the older guy you met working part time back in highschool always made yearly appearances in your life again, like it’s some twisted occasion he must attend to.

He’d tie you down, under the false promise that “he’s changed”—convincing you to meet up with him. And you’d go, fully expecting to receive an apology—chasing that closure you deserved. But everytime, without fail, your old wound would be mercissley torn right open by him, raw and bloody for the world to see—for him to see.

And it was ruthless, the way he’d ripped you apart, belittling you, reminding you how gullible and worthless you are—throwing it in your face for his own sadistic pleasure. No one will ever love you if you’re this pathetic, crawlin’ back to me like some fucking puppy. It made him satisfied with himself, knowing you’d always be there for him to gain a sense of control again. He chased that high each year, renewing himself with it—tossing you aside like garbage, after he got what he wanted, until he needed you again next time.

And everytime, Jake was there for you after shit hit the fan—holding back his anger, while he consoled you–trying his hardest to sweetly smile at you while you weakly combat your heartache. Jake hated how useless he felt—his efforts were always futile. Because, truly there was nothing he could do to stop the hurt that laid inside of you.

But there was one thing Jake could do, and that was making sure to never express his disdain for your decision to see your ex, because he knew how you felt when everyone else in your life did. It made you feel small and stupid—the two things Jake never wanted you to feel about yourself. To him, you were nothing but forgiving and sweet, just stuck in a harmful cycle. This was not your fault, it never was.

Back when you two were teenagers, Jake had been somewhat alarmed by your relationship with the guy, because what did a man of his age want with you? But Jake held his tongue and trusted you, holding back his concerns when you told him about your new boyfriend, because you glowed like you never had before. So, seventeen year old Jake did what he thought was best—he kept his mouth shut—because what kind of best friend would he be if he stood in the way of your happiness?

But, if he knew then, what he knew now, Jake would have done anything in his power to stop you from ever meeting him. Because that jerk shouldn’t have ever been interested in someone so much younger than he was, in the first place. It took Jake years of maturing, reaching his very age today to come to that realization because now you two are no longer kids.

“And he wants to see you again?” he asks, jaw clenched, already knowing the answer.

You swallow. “I’m seeing him next week.”

“Jake?”

“Yes?” Jake answers before he can even think, already peeking over the back of the couch in search of you.

He looks in the direction of the wall by the end of the hallway, patiently waiting for your footsteps to finally reach there.

You come out, holding up the front of your dress and Jake doesn’t know what to feel. “Can you help me zip this up?” you ask, embarrassed you couldn’t get your dress on fully. Your hands had been trembling all day, knowing who you’ll be seeing tonight.

Jake immediately rushes to get up at your request—not letting you take another step towards him. You lightly smile, not surprised by his behavior at all. He’d been like this since you met, programmed to never let you take the extra mile to reach him.

“I shared my location with you,” you whisper, back facing towards him now. You shiver, feeling his knuckle brush against the exposed skin there, gently holding the small zipper between his fingers.

“Why? I trust you.” He pretends to be unaware of the situation, trying to convince himself that his gut feeling isn’t true—that you’re not seeing him tonight.

“I’m seeing him in a bit, and I just—I want you to have my location.” Jake finally zips up your dress, feeling like he sealed your fate—you’re destined for a dreadful night, and he can’t do anything about it.

He reaches for your waist, but doesn’t have to do much to get you to turn around, because you’re already spinning around to face him.

Jake swallows hard. You look almost unreal under him—too pretty for his brain to even comprehend. And a part of Jake hates that he won’t be the only one who gets to see you like this, especially not tonight.

“Okay,” he stares down at you, expression unreadable.

You look up at him, wanting him to give you a reason to stay instead—but he doesn’t see the thought begging to be seen in your head, too distracted by the sick feeling pooling in his stomach.

“Be safe, and remember to text me, please,” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead—as if he’s implanting his reminder there.

The light pressure of his lips makes your heart melt in your chest. With his hands still on your waist, Jake lightly pulls you into him, not sure if it’s to comfort you—or himself. He just knows that he needs to hold you. You instinctively lean into his touch as he begins to wrap his arms around you securely. “Will you come pick me up after?” you mumble, against his shirt.

“I’ll be there the moment you tell me to.” He assures you, meaning it fully.

Jake feels restless, swerving into the acceleration lane, slamming his foot on the gas. The rain harshly slamming down against his windows just spurs him on even further, bringing him past the speed limit.

It’s already well past midnight, and you called him not long ago, barely able to get out a word, too choked up even speak—having to hang up and text him instead.

Leading up to this, Jake had been shamelessly checking your location. With every second that passed with no update from you, his leg bounced harder against the wooden floor, prompting the downstairs neighbor to smack their ceiling, warning him to knock it off for the fifth time. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Jake had practically lunged at his phone when you finally called, heart sinking when he painfully listened to you whimper–the only coherent word that left your mouth was his name.

He already knew your location, rushing to meet you there now. It’s a ten minute drive from here, Jake made sure to check—but he’s already nearing you in under three minutes.

It’s not long until he spots you in the empty parking lot. He practically throws himself out the car, ignoring the fact that his door is still slung open.

The sight of you sitting on the wet pavement, knees protectively pulled against your chest, and face buried into your hands makes him sick to his stomach. It takes everything in him to maintain his composure, finally reaching you as he lowers himself to your level.

All the weight of his worries pit against him now, making it hard to breathe—it’s suffocating almost.

With careful hands, he wraps his fingers around your cold ankles, attempting to regulate your body temperature, sweetly swiping the skin there. Jake swallows unsurely, feeling you shake like a leaf under him.

In the palms of your hands, you’re biting back the viscous cry threatening to spill over. Jake’s chest caves in, weak from seeing like this. “It’s okay, let it out.” he permits, leaning in to whisper the words against your ear–drowning out the sound of the rain completely.

It’s okay, let it out. Those five words mean more to you than you could take, especially coming from Jake.

Before you can even realize it, the honeyed reassurance opens the flood gates to everything you’ve been suppressing. The horrible insults you pathetically took in the past hour, the sickly feeling of his hands on you from earlier, and the stabbing memories from years ago all bubble to the surface. And you finally break.

You lamely fall forward, with Jake catching you immediately, in his arms–as the sound of your cry finally echoes into the air. It hurts–the way it thrashes against the walls of your throat, and mercilessly sears through your lungs. It hurts so much, but you can’t hold it in anymore–instead, you force yourself to take on the painful feeling as the cry empties out of you.

Jake screws his eyes shut at the withering sound, promising to himself that this is the last time he’ll have to hear you like this. He will never let you feel this way again.

Trying to keep his voice from trembling, Jake forces himself to smile, sweetly whispering to you, once again. “Let’s head home, Darling.”

You haven't said a word since you two got back, too ashamed to speak of tonight’s events.

But Jake doesn’t show you any sign of judgment, as he pulls out your skincare bottles from the drawer with pursed lips. He came into the bathroom, after waiting outside for you to finish your shower, helping you prep for bed now.

“Toner pads first,” he declares softly, screwing open the container.

You tiredly look through him, unable to tear the sad expression off your face. But he softly smiles at you anyway, carefully swiping the cotton pads against your skin.

It’s like this for the next few minutes—with you lost in your thoughts, sitting on the sink while Jake does his best to correctly go through each step of your routine.

“I’m so naive,” you weakly profess out of nowhere, starting to sniffle.

Jake stills, putting down your moisturizer, remaining quiet to let you continue.

“I was—I am, so stupid Jake,” you correct yourself. “I can’t even be mad that everyone looks at me like I’m—like I'm dumb,” you spit out. “I deserve to feel like an idiot, because I just am.” Your voice begins to tremble, but you keep going anyway. “Of course, I had to throw myself at the first person who gave me an ounce of attention, because I knew no one else would, but look where that got me.” You pause, harshly wiping away the rogue tear that slips down your cheek. “He’s right Jake, I’m damaged goods, no one can love me when I’m like this.” Jake breathes heavily, dissecting the way you talk about yourself. You couldn’t be more wrong.

“Stop it.” he says sternly, no longer smiling.

His tone catches you by surprise, and you’re scared to keep looking at him. He looks so tired of you—so done with you. Anyone else would’ve given up on you by now, it comes as no surprise that he’s taken the chance to do so.

You lock your eyes on the limp hands in your lap instead, ready for him to admit defeat, like he should. Instead, Jake catches your discernment and reaches out to grab your hands.

“Look at me,” he says more softly this time.

Tentatively, you lift your head to look at him again, ignoring the tears blurring your vision.

He takes a deep breath, before speaking again.

“You’re not naive. You're not stupid. You're not dumb. You’re not an idiot. You’re not damaged goods,” he says firmly, addressing all the hurtful terms you called yourself. “And you’re not incapable of being loved.” You feel your bottom lip quiver at the final statement.

“If any of that was true, I wouldn’t be able to care for you so much, but I do. I care about you so fucking much,” he says, face contorted in pain, seeing the disbelieving look on your face. “You’re everything he’s not. Every bad thing he says to you, is not about you at all. It’s about him. He’s naive, he’s stupid, he’s dumb, he’s the idiot, and he's the damaged one.” You finally allow the tears to drip down to your neck—completely soaking the neckline of your shirt.

Your eyes snap shut, shaking your head at him, denying what he says. “I mean everything I said.” Jake affirms again, gently swiping away your salty tears. You still don't believe him.

“How do—how do you not hate me, as much as I hate myself?” The choked out sentence punches him right in the heart. This hurts Jake most of all.

You turn your head away from him, eyes still screwed shut. But he’s already pulling his hands from your lap, to cradle your head in his hands instead.

“I can never hate you,” he says, voice strung in hurt. He doesn’t know what was the worst part of your question. How could you possibly hate yourself? How could he possibly hate you? And how can you possibly hate something, he loved so dearly.

You open your eyes, ready to spit out something—anything that’s hurtful enough to get rid of him. He doesn’t deserve to deal with you anymore. But the words die on your tongue, because he’s looking at you with so much concern, with so much love.

And it’s as if your body has a mind of its own, because now you lurch forward, capturing his lips in a kiss.

Your head spins when kisses you back in an instant, purposefully slotting his lips against yours, like he has the ability to suck out the hurt living inside you. But it feels like he does, because it's healing, the way he kisses you.

Your heart bursts under your ribs, feeling him slowly drop his hands to your waist, thumbs swiping over the fabric of your shirt, with no urge to take it off you. Yet he’s still able to pull a noise from you, swallowing it down his throat as it leaves you.

His tongue slips into your open mouth next, curling against your own wet muscle—its almost euphoric. The entire room blurs around you, your mind can’t process anything—but him.

Yet, you pull away first, shocked by the unfamiliar feeling that started brewing in your tummy. You blink shyly at him, he’s fully pressed against you now. “I can never hate you,” he whispers the affirmation again, planting a kiss on your forehead. He stamps the declaration there, hoping it never leaves your mind.

“I know,” you answer him, believing him this time. Jake swallows, seeing you stare up at him, trusting him fully.

Without a thought, Jake leans back down to peck your lips, drawn in by the way it’s wet with his saliva. It’s meant to be short, because his lips are already drifting from yours—but you chase after the feeling in your stomach again, feeling it growing stronger. Jake hands trail down to your hips, squeezing them in surprise, kissing you back.

He feels your hands already reaching for his pajama pants, fingers digging into the band, and he stops you, moving his hands to coax yours away from there.

You retract your mouth from his, feeling regretful. “Shit, I’m sorry Jake I—”

“It's not that.” He assures you. Your brows furrow at his reply, until you understand the apologetic look he’s now giving you—and you know exactly what it means. I love you, but not tonight.

You nod.

Jake kisses the corner of your mouth, withdrawing his hands to dig out something from his pocket. You smile at what he pulls out from there. It’s a pair of mismatched fluffy socks, one blue and one pink.

You both look down at his own feet, and he lets out an embarrassed laugh. He’s wearing the matching pair for each sock in his hand. His left foot has a blue sock on it while the other has the pink sock.

A warm feeling pins you down—Jake is wearing your socks.

note: this one is very special to me, so thank you for reading. as always, reblogs are very greatly appreciated!

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greyskyflowers · 2 years

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✨🌙 Magic AU ideas for fun ✨🌙

~ Please credit me if you use any of these.

🕸️ Ink spiders

Spider like creatures that tend to live in places with lots of ink (think libraries, book stores, antique shops, etc).

Most people think the black spindling legs are the creature and it's made of ink (hence the name), but the spiders are actually made of the spaces between words, the black ink is the shadow. They're very thin and you have to get close and look sideways at them to faintly see their actual bodies, which almost look like very thin glass threads. More of a distortion in the air than an actual image. Leave ink splatters when startled and make little clinking noises like tea cups when they get curious enough to climb something you've left close enough to the page.

**Think that photo of camels in desert where people think shadows are the camels

🚪Little shops in between the books on shelves in antique and bookstore.

They look like little miniature houses/apartments but they aren't fond of people lingering so if you look away they'll shut the doors and windows by the time you look again.

Some even take their welcome mats back inside.

🌌 Planetary rings can be bought for an unbelievable price but only the best magic users have them. They make amazing engagement and/or wedding rings.

🐠 If you find the right crosswalk in the rain, you will loo down between the painted line over a mirror image of the city, see fish swimming, leaves floating, etc. Stepping on the blocks gets you across but stepping in the water spins you around and you end up in the city. If you look up you'll see the blocks in the sky and fish swimming high above like clouds. You can watch people walking across the street above you.

This is the only way to find certain magic market places and it can be hard to find the right crosswalk. People usually end jumping in lots of puddles trying to find the right one.

**You leave the same way

🌧️ Kitchen clouds that rain spices

🌊 The most expensive and rare lace is foam from the sea pulled off at high tide under a full moon. White with the gentlest hints of blue, perfectly imperfect in it's details. They say it smells of salt and feels cool against the skin.

**Sold by mermaids, sirens, ocean nymphs. If you buy if from someone else it's probably fake

💡Sting lights that fly off the string when not in use and flicker on and off around the room. When you ask for light or turn it on, they all come floating in to sit on the string at their spots.

**Like lightning bugs but just little puffs of light

🌱 Rooms where grass grows on the floor or up between floorboards. Wildflowers and clover joining it. Sometimes sunflowers pop up to keep depressed or sick people company, common in hospitals

🛁 Night bath bombs: Black ones that turn the water black and silver dust forms accurate constellations in the water.

Cloud bath bombs: White ones that cover the top of the water in rolling puffs that look like cotton but dissipate like fog when you wave your hand through it.

Ocean bath bombs: Blue ones that foam and make small waves, sea salt scent and the grit of sand at the bottom of the tub.

Rain bath bombs: Grey ones that smell like rain and look like puddles, the occasional leaf or two floating by, and the perfect warm summer rain feel and smell.

🎨 Colorful butterflies like paint chips travel together and always form beautiful murals when they land. They usually stay for awhile before getting up to move their artwork to somewhere else.

🐙 Upside down flowers that move like octopus, the petals like little legs they scurry around on. They sometimes produce pollen puffs when startled or angry.

🦷 Dentists that do teeth whitening for vampires

👗 Dresses with flower edges, the skirt made of stems all going up to form the waist with leaves occasionally helping to cover and the flowers all at the bottom. Living dresses.

Along the same thought, flowers that weave in your hair and stay, Ivy, lavender, gardenia, etc.

🥪 Swamp houses on giant lilly pads with monsters that lives in the muddy waters, ancient beings that adore grilled cheese and will accept it as an offering of friendship.

🐾 Veterinarians that can speak multiple animal languages and can ask animals what's wrong as well as follow up on any neglect or abuse claims

⚓ Tattoos that move and change as the person does. Flowers that go through blooming and wilting. Words that change fonts. Animals that wonder around the body. Anchors that sink down to the feet. Watercolor that leaves the skin damp

🛒 Groceries that pop into your kitchen as you order them.

**They keep putting the milk in the wrong place and at this point you think it's just to fuck with you.

🪞 Store changing rooms have two types of rooms available, with mirrors that flatter and support, or mirrors that are brutally honest and occasionally hurtful.

💉 Werewolves that need to stay up to date on their rabies/disease shots instead of their flu shots.

💰 The best thieves and scammers are fae because they're amazing at getting information, names, numbers, etc. Also kitsune because of their remarkable cuunning and playfulness.

💧 Depression medicine that shoos away the rain clouds over your head

Calming tinctures that literally stop your head from spilling

Warming spells that start at you toes and roll up your body like sinking into warm water

Cooling spells that run down from the top of your head like a cool shower

💀 Classroom skeletons that teach their own classes and love dad jokes. Real ones that tell stories from their lives, or died very recently but it was in the middle of the semester and they still have shit to do. Fake skeletons that like to pretend they were famous/fictional people and spread completely ridiculous and often hilarious rumors.

��️ Ghost towns/neighborhoods like spirited away. Quiet and empty during the day but bustling streets and shops as the sun goes down. They aren't on maps for a reason - tip your hat or nod your head and remember your manners while quickly passing through

🌫️ Spells that hide your home from those with ill intentions. Sometimes they can't see your house or it looks abandoned. Sometimes it switches the roads around so none ever lead to you. Those with good intentions will always find their way to you, even if they get lost.

**Think irish proverb about the road rising up to meet you vibes

🗑️ The creature that lives in the break room trashcan always has the latest gossip and will gladly trade you some in return for some old coffee or a snack from the vending machine.

🐌 Sea slugs as street cleaners, make their way through the streets at night in slow wiggles like how they clean the bottom of the ocean.

**Often cause traffic delays if they get behind and can stay out til morning, so listen to the local morning radio to make sure to avoid any road closures due to slug

👁️ Seers make the best personal assistants, front desk, nurses, etc. Catch things right as they fall, will call and reschedule appointments before people know they need to, can make sure messages get where they need to go exactly when needed.

**Fake seers will sometimes try to pose as weathermen or similar to get some fame and money. They usually get booted quickly.

🌿 Eucalyptus that grows in the shower and greets you in the morning with happy waves and wishes you good night in the evening. Moss that grows on the floor like a rug and sprouts like flowers when it thinks you need some cheering up.

⌛ Time delays are a thing, however they must be approved by the time equality agency. You can request to change the hours in your day. For example, a student might request to have more time to study before their 7am final. If approved, they might have say 5am last 4 hours before time resumes as normal. However they'll have 4 hours removed at the end of their day.

**Kind of like daylight savings where the clock jumps forward and backwards

Usually this is reserved for very special situations as there's a lot of paperwork and requirements involved.

🚀 Spaceships gets stars stuck on the side, like boats get barnacles stuck to them, and they have to be scrapped off and throw back up into the sky

**Stars also go too low sometimes and get stuck in tree branches and gutters

🍄 Giant mushrooms used at part of the structure and/roof in forest homes. Living homes.

🌳 Willow trees are incredibly protective. If someone gets a willow whip mark (snapped a branch at them like a towel) it usually means they were somewhere they shouldn't have been.

🦋 Some butterflies have extra pollen on their wings that gets shaken off. This can be gathered and used in magic makeup - doesn't harm the butterfly as they shake it off themselves when it gets too heavy.

🐉 Fire flowers that burn blue at the base and end in flickering flames. Little embers in the middle like pollen. Very small dragons take the embers and soot like bees.

Please note that it's illegal to take anything from a dragon, including fire honey, but sometimes if you befriend them they'll trade you. Maybe a shell of honey for something shiney. They're fond of things like tinsel and shiney confetti, it's easy to carry and they sometimes wrap it around them like little scarves.

🗺️ Physical maps that direct you like Google maps but also refuse to ask for directions if they themselves get lost. Sometimes they fold on the sides like little arms on their hips when they're mad.

**Map: don't you dare pull over, take the turn in .5 miles.

Driver: There is no turn!

Map: Take the turn!

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artsofrajasthanindia · 7 months

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Handmade Indian Cotton kilim rug weaved on Indian looms stamped with natural vegetable-dyes using hand-made wooden blocks achieving the perfection of block printing art of Jaipur. This is best suitable for your home office entrance, bedroom, living room, kids room, dinning room, kitchen and outdoor patio, terrace, beach and garden.

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stardustndreamsofsilver · 2 years

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Hand To Hold

Sammy x Reader (f)

Warnings: none

“Dada dada dada da!” You hear your daughter call through the baby monitor.

Rolling over, you’re met with the warm brown eyes of your partner. Smiling you say, “It sounds like someone’s calling for you honey.”

With a yawn and a stretch, Sam calls out, “I hear you baby love. I’m comin’. I’m comin’.”

Throwing back the covers, he slowly gets out of bed and pads out of the room and down the hall to her room. You hear him open her door and say, “Good morning my sweet honey bee!” Watching through the monitor, you see him pick her up out of her crib. Putting her on his hip, he bounces from side to side garnering a laugh out of your little one.

“So what are we thinking princess? Diaper change then breakfast?” Sam says before tickling her tummy. She squeals with laughter. Chuckling, Sam says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

While he’s changing her diaper, you get out of bed and go to the kitchen to warm a kettle for tea. While the kettle is heating up, you make a sippy cup with half whole milk and half formula for Hazel. As you finish mixing up the contents of the cup, Sam walks in carrying your sweet baby girl.

“Look at what Mama has for your Hazy, can you say milk?” He says as he signs the word for milk. Hazel studies his hand and slowly starts to copy the movements. “Good job baby! You are so smart!” He exclaims.

You smile and clap for her as you walk around the counter handing her the sippy cup. When she takes it from you, you take her from Sam and carry her over to her high chair. “There you go honey.” You say as you place her in the seat. Locking the tray into place, you walk over to the counter and grab the kettle and two mugs. Sam pushes Hazel’s high chair over to the side of the counter and goes behind you to grab the loose leaf tea tin and tea strainers. You sit the kettle on a trivet and let Sam finish making the tea.

“Okay Hazy girl, I’m thinking waffles and strawberries. What do you think?” You ask your little one. She smiles and claps her little hands. “Waffles it is then.” You say with a grin.

You crouch down and grab the waffle iron from under the counter. Sitting it down and plugging it in you go to the pantry to grab the waffle mix. Bringing it back out with you, you pour the mix in a bowl along with the water, vegetable oil and egg substitute. Mixing it up, you carry the bowl and whisk over the Hazel.

“Do you want to help Mama mix it baby?” You ask as you place the bowl in front of her. A huge cheesy grin spreads across her face and she excitedly grabs the whisk and starts haphazardly stirring. You smile and softly chuckle. “Good job my love!” You say leaning over and kissing the top of her head. “Okay Hazy, I think it’s ready! Let’s make some waffles!”

You make the waffles while Sam cuts the strawberries. When he’s done, he put a few chunks on her tray before popping one into his mouth. Hazel looks down and excitedly grabs a piece and eats it. She smiles and says “Mmm. Mmm!”

“Is that tasty baby?” Sam chuckles.

You smile as you watch the two of them interact with one another. Looking down, you finish plating up Hazel’s waffle. Carrying it over to her, you slide the plate and onto her tray.

“There you go, eat up!” You say.

“These are so good, babe.” Sam says from behind you.

“I’m glad you like them!” You smile as you turn to face him.

Grabbing a couple of waffles off the stack, you grab your tea and take a seat closest to Hazel and enjoy your breakfast. After everyone has finished up, you take Hazel out of her high chair and go to change her clothes while Sam washes the dishes. Carrying her to her room, you sit her on her play mat and hand her a couple of toys to entertain her while you pick out her outfit. Grabbing two different cotton sundresses, you lay them out infront of her and ask which one she’d like to wear. It takes a minute, but she ultimately reaches for the forest green one with a little daisy embroidered on it.

You smile and say, “Good choice baby, I like this one too.” Putting the dress on her and putting a headband with a daisy patterned bow on her head, you smile at your gorgeous girl.

Sam walks in soon after and says, “Oh my beautiful Hazy girl! You just take my breath away! Look how sweet you look!”

He picks her up and does a little spin. Kissing her cheek, he puts her down. But Hazel has something else in mind. Clutching onto his legs, she stands up and reaches for his hands. When he bends down and lets her grab his fingers, she turns and starts to try walking toward the door. Both of you gasp and are wide eyed. She’d never tried walking before, she always just crawled wherever she wanted to go.

“Oh you’re doing so good! Look at you go!” Sam exclaims. She toddles a few steps more before she tries to let go of his hands. She gets a little nervous and turns to grab his hands once again. Chuckling, Sam says, “Don’t worry Hazy, I’ll always be a hand to hold onto.”

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