#essence of the south

[ryan-sometimes]

Everyone, this is the South Korean ambassador in Brazil. I don’t think this man is ever going back to Korea

[majestativa]

You who court danger, diving in the dark of night.

— Anonymous, The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1001 Nights, Vol. (1), transl by Malcolm C. Lyons & Ursula Lyons, (2008)

[wannabe-minion-of-chaos]

"Chaos theory is a lighthearted au" I say as I give Mysterion yet another existential crisis about the origins to his curse

[musiquesduciel]

Bajirao Mastani (2015)

[katherinebotten]

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

kenny

[emberoops]

so while I was gone I was doing an intense sort of planning/lobbying/whatever the word is session to get rid of homelessness. Proud to announce that there are now limitations on how long housing is allowed to be held vacant. right now they’re working with fines which isn’t ideal but they’re hefty fines so I’m willing to start there and finesse it as we go on.

we’ve also started to address food waste. I saw a ridiculous amount of food wasted from grocery stores and I am well aware of the existence of food deserts, so that’s the next thing we’re tackling. fines are less likely to work here, so we’re actually thinking of ways to incentivize giving the “sub prime” (read: ugly but entirely edible) food to agencies that work to feed impoverished folk.

it’s a lot of hard work but this is significantly easier on the mind than just doing nothing (and that period of running rescues)

[save-mohamed-family]

My campaign is verified and added to the Gaza Donations page with number 192.

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@sar-soor @heba-20

@el-shab-hussein

@90-ghost @soon-palestine

@ibtisams @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @northgazaupdates @fallahifag @fairuzfan

I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters, who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, I am facing a severe injury to my leg, which is at risk of amputation if I do not receive the necessary treatment. My wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, and my wife is also suffering from uterine cancer.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

To everyone with a compassionate heart,

To all who understand the essence of humanity,

This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.

We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.

My name is being repeatedly added to many public and private donation campaigns. Please, be a support for me in this difficult situation.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

@communistchilchuck 🫶🇵🇸

@nabulsi

@sayruq

@communistchilchuck @90-ghost @sar-soor @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @stil-lindigo @vakarian-shepard @northgazaupdates

@faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @three-croissants @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @marnota @northgazaupdates

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family

[bengallemon]

v close to muu shuwuu but since alice will only be 2 levels away i might just. grind till 40 and get alice for the boss. she'll have a force skill and I'm already gonna have to play around everyone else's weaknesses already

[pinky14353]

Pinky's Nails LLC

[cocomanuell]

Elizavecca - Hwa Yu Hong Flower Essence Lotion 🌷💜 - finally got to try this and I’d say I love it and my skin loves it. To see the ingredients and its benefits why my skin loves this, please see below, guys 💜 Benefits: An essence that is powered by the Purple Energy. With a blend of purple flowers and plants extracts, the formula moisturizes and revitalizes the skin for a vibrant complexion. Helps restore the water/oil balance while brightening dull skin tone. Can be steadily absorbed without leaving a sticky feeling. How to use: Apply a moderate amount to the skin and gently pat to aid absorption. About brand: Elizavecca @elizavecca 🤍🧸🌷 Major Ingredients Water, Coco-Caprylate/Caprate, Dipropylene Glycol, Glycerin, Caprylic/Capric Triglyceride, Niacinamide, Glyceryl Stearate, Butyrospermum Parkii (Shea) Butter, Cetearyl Alcohol, Ceteth-20, Dimethicone, PEG-100 Stearate, Caprylyl Glycol, Sorbitan Sesquioleate, Allantoin, Panthenol, Butylene Glycol, Carbomer, Fragrance, 1,2-Hexanediol, Caprylhydroxamic Acid, Adenosine, Tromethamine, Disodium EDTA, Chamomilla Recutita (Matricaria) Flower/Leaf Extract, Borago Officinalis Extract, Centaurea Cyanus Flower Extract, Hyacinthus Orientalis (Hyacinth) Extract, Lavandula Angustifolia (Lavender) Flower Water, Salvia Sclarea (Clary) Extract, Sodium Hyaluronate, Melia Azadirachta Flower Extract, Coccinia Indica Fruit Extract, Melia Azadirachta Leaf Extract, Solanum Melongena (Eggplant) Fruit Extract, Hydrolyzed Collagen, Aloe Barbadensis Flower Extract, Corallina Officinalis Extract, Curcuma Longa (Turmeric) Root Extract, Ocimum Sanctum Leaf Extract, Ethylhexylglycerin Related Tags #south korea #lotion #hwayuhongfloweressencelotion #essence #hwayuhong #elizavecca #facecream #Beauty #Skincare #Moisturizers https://www.instagram.com/p/CoZgcDRh93v/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[majestativa]

Come, death, and visit me, for life is vile.

— Anonymous, The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1001 Nights, Vol. (1), transl by Malcolm C. Lyons & Ursula Lyons, (2008)

[creative-crybaby]

Trifle

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

GENRE: crack? crack. | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia (?), cum eating, squirting

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: Two things can be true at the same time. Does Gojo make you want to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, should his Infinity allow it? Yes. Does he also know how to make your ovaries explode with his fingers alone? Also yes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Heeeeyyyy~ yes it's been several months without a fic and this comes out under 2k words buuuuuutttt~ u get bitchass!Gojo (we love him)

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

You’re going to kill him. 

He’s a walking, talking headache. Questioning your teaching methods for your students, eating your sweets even though you’ve labelled them (it’s right there!), swooping into your missions like he’s saving the day. Those are just a few of the many examples, but he does it all on purpose, you’re sure of it. 

So to be sitting between his long legs with his slender fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt feels like a blow to your integrity and pride. 

Especially since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So,” Gojo drawls, pausing his ministrations between your trembling thighs, “how many orgasms was that?”

Your face is boiling. From rage or embarrassment, you can’t decide. “Fuck you.”

The sorcerer hums at your crude remark before slipping his digits out of your pussy, holding his hand a foot away from your face to catch your essence blanketing his skin. 

“Patience, patience.” His easy-going tone makes you want to jab your elbow into his stomach. “Jeez, someone’s eager. You finally warming up to me, Princess?”

And that damn nickname. Either Gojo genuinely doesn’t know how much you hate it, or he’s just trying to push your buttons some more. With the clueless grins he’d offer as he’d call you that, you’d assume the former. But with his explanation for calling you that being that you always stick your nose up at him, you don’t think he deserves any benefit of the doubt. 

You hate that nickname, yet you find yourself clenching around nothing just from hearing those familiar syllables. 

His first question came out like he was asking for the time, yet with the number of times he’s made you see galaxies, you ought to be grateful that his tone holds no cockiness. No, actually, you might prefer that instead—how dare he handle this victory with grace and nonchalance?

“This doesn’t even make us friends,” you manage to stammer through gritted teeth. Your glare remains on his hand, still drenched before you, though your frustration lies more down south than anywhere else. 

You can hear the taunting frown in the sorcerer’s voice. “Guess you won’t care for this anymore, then.”

His arm, responsible for putting you in your puddle-like state, slowly retracts, and you can feel the sorcerer take his time raising from his seated position. 

Now he’s finally giving you the space you always wanted from him, yet you surprise yourself by grabbing him by the wrist. You let go as soon as you recognize your action, but the deed has already been done. 

An overly enthusiastic gasp. “You do like me!”

“Oh, my God—If I say yes, will you just finish the job already?” you groan. 

Gojo plops back to his seating position behind you, nestling his chin onto your shoulder as he teases his hand to return between your thighs. His warm breath fans your cheek while his lips graze your earlobe. Miniscule actions that have your body heating up. Intentional on his part, most likely, though you refuse to give him any more ammo against you. 

A heavy sigh. The feigned disappointment in his tone has your brows furrowing so intensely that you worry you might pop a vein. 

“No gratitude for the hand that feeds you, huh?” The special-grade sorcerer nuzzles into your neck, his woe-is-me attitude soon replaced with a blinding grin and boyish giggle. “Oh, but you know I can’t be mad at you for long!”

Long and slender fingers bury themselves in your weeping cunt before you process his mood swings. A trembling moan slips from your mouth as his skilled ministrations resume, your sweet spot welcoming the familiar touch. His speed and rhythm return as if he never paused, further turning your brain to mush as your thighs tremble. Gojo chuckles childishly once more, the charming melody syncing with the embarrassingly loud squelching of your soaking pussy. 

Multiple orgasms later, and you ask for more. The heat from the situation must be melting your sense of reason because you can’t tell if you’re greedy or just plain stupid. 

“You crying?” Gojo’s voice carries its usual teasing lilt, the one he has specifically for you. You don’t even realize how the fresh tears glaze your vision—as if he didn’t already have enough fuel for the fire.

But you bite your tongue. You bite your tongue because there’s no convincing anyone that he’s crazy and seeing things and the last thing you need is for him to stall some more when you’re already sososo close to the edge.

A slight change in angle. It does the trick, his fingers still bullying that one spot while his palm brushes against your throbbing clit with just as much vigour. Your body tenses, a choked sob escaping your glossy lips as your orgasm hits you like a tsunami. Warm liquid follows soon after, the blue-eyed sorcerer’s movements refusing to halt and making lewd splashing sounds in the process. 

Even once everything simmers down, the impact decides to remain a bit longer. With a heaving chest and stuttering hips, the room stops spinning, slowly but surely.

A low whistle. “If you had to pee, you could have just said so.”

“Why are you like this?”

Gojo hums before slipping his fingers out of your pussy, earning him a slightly pained whimper from you. He stands back up as you wipe away the evidence of your crying, peering up at him when his shadow blankets you. His towering frame never fails to catch you off-guard, but what currently has your attention is the Special Grade sorcerer sucking his digits clean of your juices, a satisfied mewl coming straight from his throat.

“Welp,” he stretches his arms above his head, “we still have a bit of time left before we have that meeting with good ol’ Principal Yaga, so,” the sound of a zipper reaches your ears, and it's only a few seconds later that he pulls out his cock—long, stiff and painfully ready, “why not return the favour?” 

You’re too fucked out to argue against him. That’s the reasoning you’d think of using should he confront you about your willingness to comply. You can’t help it if you’re losing the staring contest against his cock, saliva pooling on your tongue as he taps his vermillion tip against your cheek.

Your lips part as your eyes flutter closed, unable to bear to look at the Special Grade sorcerer as you take him down your throat, inch by inch. The gagging sound that erupts from your throat halfway through makes your brows furrow, and you can only hope the man above you doesn’t comment. With clenched fists sitting on your lap, you further shield your sight with screwed-shut lids as you push yourself to take more, using your tongue for good measure.

A shuddered sigh leaves Gojo’s soft lips when you tease one of his veins. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan in response, feeling bold enough to create a steady pace to bob your head. Whatever you couldn’t reach, your hand took care of, a part of your brain urging you to squeeze him just a bit harder. His responses only grow louder, his groaning and panting setting your face on fire.

“You’re so good at this,” he rasps, his large hand finding the top of your head. Despite his gentle touch, you furrow your brows at the contact. “Too good…” You don’t expect him to slip himself out of your mouth, holding his base away from your mouth and making you finally look up at him. Gojo tilts his head to the side. “You’ve done this before?”

You'd have thought he was teasing if it weren’t for the pout on his lips. You look at him for a moment with an incredulous expression.

“What are you talking about?” You swat his hand out of your hair. “You seriously think being with anyone outside our line of work would be easy?” The male sorcerer’s gaze carries hope at your words, a noticeable shine in those cerulean blues that make your heart stutter. Unsure of what to do next, you continue the lost momentum by pumping his pulsing cock in your hand. “I’m stuck with you, Gojo.”

You figure his shuddered gasp is from your returning touch, especially with the combination of pinched brows, quivering lips and heavy blush on his cheeks and ears. But his large hand on top of yours–the one doing all the work–tells another story.

“You really do like me, Princess!” The sorcerer exclaims, his voice wavering halfway. 

At this point, you don’t care to dissect whether or not he’s pushing your buttons. Even at a time like this….

“I meant I’m settling for you,” you grumble, ignoring how his hand practically devours yours. You manage to retract your hold from his. “Don’t make me bite you.”

Gojo giggles at your threat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth when you plop his dick back in your mouth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Without warning, you graze his shaft with your teeth the more you take him in your mouth. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message, if your irritated expression wasn’t already doing the job. 

Although, you suppose it is your fault for not taking him seriously either. Your actions earn you a whimper from the Special Grade sorcerer. Not a second later, he has his head thrown back as he pours his load down your throat. Your eyes widen at the overpowering taste, doing what you can to swallow every drop without choking. Even through his orgasm, you find yourself thinking about how he ought to cut down on the sweets. 

You’re quick to pull back for air once Gojo comes down from his high, sputtering in your hand as he sighs happily. 

“Told ya,” he muses, tucking himself back in. You wipe your mouth, glaring at him from your spot on the floor. 

“Whatever,” you grunt, putting your clothes back on before attempting to stand. If he notices your legs still wobbling, he thankfully doesn’t comment. “Let’s just hurry and get to that meeting before Yaga gets mad.”

Gojo hums with a tilt of his head as he watches you dusting off your pants.

“Oh, yeah!” He drops his fist into his palm. You throw a wary look his way when he grins. “We’ve been late this whole time, actually.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[gloomwitchwrites]

Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

[adviceformefromme]

There is a difference between a man that goes along with your flow and a man that chooses you. 

A man that goes along with your flow will be following your lead, he might be in a relationship with you because you gave him an ulitmatum, he might respond to your messages because you initiate them, he might travel to see you because he knows secs is on the table… But the problem here is he’s not actively choosing you which is a reflection of you not actually choosing you, and you’ll feel it. You’ll feel something is off, something you can’t put your finger on and it will be the gut feeling that you’re over invested in your relationship to the point where the energy is imbalanced. He is now in the feminine role, and you are now in the masculine role of pursing. You are carrying the relationship, and with that - he goes along with your flow. Not his flow...

Because a man that chooses you allows you to lean back into your feminine energy. He is intentional about you, his actions say clearly 'I want you, I am choosing you'. He adds to your life and not subtracts, he supports you in your dreams, encourages you, works around your schedule - because you have a life that does not revolve around him. He goes out of his way to make effort with you, he allows you to feel safe and secure in the relationship, he admires and respects you for who you truly are. There is no trying to impress a man that chooses you, because he is in awe of your essence. The you without trying, the you, who is enough simply existing.

So if you find yourself in a situation where he's following your lead, he's taken on the feminine role of receiving..It's time to flip the script. And this is where you be about your business. Becoming a woman who's about her business is about walking in your purpose and if you don't know what that is, that becomes your focus. You're de-centering him because you know the harms of putting a man on a pedestal. You're leaning into your feminine flow, into the feeling energy, you're signing up for the dance class, doing the morning runs, you're working through your New Years resolution list that got sidelined when you became overly focused on him. You're remembering that you wanted to travel to South America and you're saving up to book the flights. You're deepening your connection with God, you're journaling more and creating a more wholesome loving relationship with self. You are about your business. Not him, not others. About you, and with this you become the magnetic pole. You attract. You're in your goddess energy. You feel more at peace, and if he falls away from the you who is choosing you, he was never meant for you. So do your self a favour, be about your business, and let him choose you.

[lawchwan]

let my pierced tongue move you (law)

summary: your boyfriend got a tongue-piercing and you went feral requested by: @toges-cough-syrup reader: fem!reader disclaimer: cunnilingus, law being a tease (also please remember to not kiss/give oral after you got your tongue pierced and allow it to heal in the process. This is fictional, so it is fine, but please be safe when dealing with sensitive piercings like your tongue. Infections are not fun), overstimulation genre: smut a/n: not me making this in the middle of a gathering 💀 no beta out here, just raw dogged the shit out of this piece (like how i wish law would do to me ☺️🫶)

crossposted on ao3

You sat in your bed in full nude as you spread your legs your heavily tattooed and pierced boyfriend commanded you to do, and there was a reason why you were in this position.

Just a few weeks ago, Law came back after an appointment, an appointment you assumed was for another tattoo he planned to get. He did discuss with you that he’ll either get a new tattoo or piercing but he never specified what type he’ll be getting precisely.

When he walked in, he seemed tight-lipped, and a slight wince appeared. You beamed as you saw your boyfriend as you approached him.

“Hey, baby, how did your appointment go?” You inquired, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tiptoed and reached for his lips to peck him. He remained as he winced once again followed by a quick moan, seemingly in pain.

You pulled away, concern drawn on your face, “Law, are you okay?”

He just nodded as he quickly stuck out his tongue, and there he showed you the metal ball stuck in the wet flesh of his tongue. Your eyes widened in wonder, as the glimmer in your eyes sparkled, which made him smirk with his tongue out before putting it back in.

He walked away after he held onto you and his touch lingered on you, going on as if that sight of him smirking with his tongue piercing out wasn’t going to inhabit your brain for the next few weeks.

For the next few weeks, each time you attempt to kiss him or make out with him, he will not proceed further.

“baby, I can’t or else, it’ll get infected,” Law says with a slight lisp, due to his swollen tongue—a a temporary habit you grew fond of. Despite that, however, you’re irked by your cautious boyfriend, even though he had a point—getting an infection is not a fun thing to deal.

And fast forward a few weeks later, after a lack of physical affections and kisses, there you were splayed naked in your bed as Law placed himself on top of you, his inked hand wrapped itself around your throat as the other holds onto your leg. You finally had contact with the metal ball on his tongue after his tongue was fully healed. Law starts to push his tongue onto yours, and you sucked his metal tongue as he moans into a kiss.

He smirked during the kiss as the hand on your leg started to travel south, his finger softly grazing your skin, caressing lovingly.

“Aww, I know that’s what you’ve been wanting, babe… let me take care of you,” Law cooed as he started kissing down your neck, to your chest, giving love to each and every one of your breasts. The ball circles around the bud of your nipples, adding a pleasurable buzz within your body, making you moan blissfully.

“L-law~”

Law got off the bed and he pulled you by your ankles, placing you by the edge of the bed as he got on his knees. He spreads your legs further, one leg on his shoulder and the other pushed back by his hand, and there he began teasingly licking around your clit before he flat out started to make out with your cunt.

You started to whimper at the metallic ball, making your hole drip more of the sweet essence oozing out of you, making him slurp in the process as he moaned at the delightful taste.

“Fuck, you taste so good…” Law grumbled as he pulled away for a split second before he went back in, the metallic ball brushes up against the clit, making you create more sounds as you felt yourself getting closer.

Law gave a few more licks, and with the licks speeding up and going more fervently, you started to reach your orgasm, making you start whining and yelping as your back arched and your body shake.

“Law! Mm—Fuck!” You yelped as you closed your legs around his head. He pushed your legs apart, as he still carried on with his licking, making you overstimulate.

He pulled away as he gave you a carnal look with a smirk, climbing and leaning on top of you.

“I’m not done with you… I will make sure, you’ll leave this room shaking…”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.