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#he truly doesn’t stop working does he
nicoscheer · 21 days
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Miles Kane, What It's Like to Play as a 'One Man Band'
We met Miles Kane as a founding member of important bands such as the Last Shadow Puppets with Alex Turner of the Arctic Monkeys and the Rascals. In the last several years, the Liverpudlian has been on a solitary path, as the name of his recent release suggests. We spoke with him shortly before his long-awaited return to Athens, at "Arch Club", on Friday 5/17.
How has your tour been going so far?
The concerts so far are incredible. I'm excited to play by myself, so I'm very happy. I think people are relating and connecting with the songs on my new record and it's taking me to places I haven't seen in a long time. And Greece is one of those places.
Can you tell us a few words about how you wrote "One Man Band", your most chart-topping album to date?
The album was created in Liverpool. We worked on it with my cousin James Skelly, who used to be a member of The Coral. We went back home and that gave birth to the desire to make a completely straight album. Writing songs is what I do best, not thinking too much, just talking about my feelings, my worries and how I want to be better. I guess life in general is what "One Man Band" is all about, stomping on some rock'n'roll, surf music. We had a clear idea of ​​what the album and its sound should be and we followed it to the end. This is also the reason why it is my favorite work of all that I have released so far. I feel very proud!
You started a great career by participating in various bands, such as Last Shadow Puppets. What motivated you to follow a more solitary path in recent years?
I've been doing solo stuff since I was 22 and I'm 38 now. I learned so much from the bands I was in, the Rascals and the Little Flames. Being on my own and free to work with whoever I want and do whatever I want – even if it sounds selfish – I think suits me best.
And what's the biggest lesson you've learned from playing as a "One Man Band"?
Not playing with a band is completely different for me. It's a huge challenge and not many could pull it off to be honest. It has made me improve my performance as a guitarist, as a singer and as a performer.
What is the most important experience from this journey?
It may sound cliche but I really had a lot of good times in my career. But I feel that who I am today as a person in life and on stage gives me new meaning and life. At all these smaller concerts where I meet new fans, I realize that the younger generation brings a whole different energy to it all. I feel that the phase I am in now is the happiest of my life. I feel more connected and hope to stay on this "path".
Are you excited to be back in Athens ("Arch Club", 5/17)?
Yes! I think I can't remember the last time I visited Greece because it's been so many years. I hope people come because I plan to give you the best night of your life.
What constitutes a successful live?
A great outfit, some "golden" dance moves and an audience! I need to feel like people want to be involved as much as I want to be. This is the only way we can go to the next level.
What are your plans for the future?
I'm trying to write something new and prepare a new album, but I'm having a hard time doing it right now. I don't want to stop the flow of things. I'm quite a simple person and I know what I like in life... Music. Maybe next year I'll be ready for a new release.
Is there another side project in the works?
We're not working on anything with Alex. [Turner], like Last Shadow Puppets. But I have this new little side project going on called The Evils and it's an instrumental surf idea. We'll see how this goes... [s.s. In the time between the interview and its publication, Kane along with Oscar Sholto Robertson and Dave Bardon released the E.P. "Miles Kane & The Evils".]
Miles Kane's albums in his own words
"Colour of the Trap" (2011)
"The beginning of the adventure, when I was still searching for who I am. This album opened the way for me. You can hear all the different sides of me in it."
"Don't Forget Who You Are" (2013)
"Probably one of the best songs I've ever written [inc. the title]. Something keeps me coming back to it. It's like coming home to the roots for me. Sometimes in life you can get sidetracked and forget who you are. This song defined me as an artist and as a person."
"Coup de Grace" (2018)
"An intense rock'n'roll, punk period! Coming out with such an aggressive album is not as easy as you think."
"Change the Show" (2022)
"My chance to show my love for Northern Soul and Motown...Growing up I listened to everything from Diana Ross and the Four Tops to whatever was on the radio."
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Full Greek article
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binders-and-beanies · 19 days
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#sry I need to vent more abt my tattoo pain bc I physically cannot do anything productive rn im completely and totally incapacitated#can’t read anything beyond short posts or texts. can’t eat or move at all#tried to sleep through it so it would at least Be Tomorrow so I can get medical help. but the jolts of pain make me like Jump#hence me being sent home from work early today like it’s not even that I was complaining I was just flinching involuntarily so much#and was unable to work or function at all. thank god I don’t work retail rn I remember the pain of tattoo infections in that context#it’s so Abrupt it feels like I’m being stabbed or repeatedly bitten#literally trying not to scream bc I have a roommate. but he almost certainly hears me crying and saying ouch#which sucks bc I barely know the guy lol he has no context. At least on my drive home I could scream as much as I needed#literally would go to the ER if I could afford it and that sounds so dramatic bc it is#it doesn’t feel like it can wait. genuinely don’t know how I’m gonna get through the night#I haven’t slept in like 60 hours and I doubt I will tonight. but it hurts too much to even tell if I’m tired#and I don’t have time for this!! I have so much I need to be doing. I hate that the only way I can have Time is to be Extra Disabled#in a way that leaves me completely unable to do the things I normally can fight through despite burnout#and I was just at health services yesterday asking them to do insurance paperwork that they couldn’t do#it’s embarrassing having to be like hey I was just there but can I come back#I have Another tattoo infection but I pinky promise I take such good care of them#and my artist is like the best of the best too. it’s like it doesn’t matter what either of us does to keep me safe#and I know if anyone responds to this it will be to tell me to stop getting tattoos#but that’s literally like telling me not to get top surgery if I’m immunocompromised n might have recovery complications#both are equally important gender affirming medical procedures to me I’m not joking#and I hate always having to justify this whilst in agonizing pain. I hate answering the same things every time bc still no one believes me#I say this as someone who lives every moment in baseline pain that would have your average person writhing on the floor and I ignore it#this is truly unbearable if I hadn’t been through it a million times I would think it was life threatening#just needed to get it out ig. bc it’s all I can physically do. until health services opens in 12 hours#PLEASE let them have availability tomorrow bc i have literally no option on weekends#this is just. so upsetting and embarrassing. I don’t have time or emotional capacity for this#personal#mine#vent post
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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Possessive
how the overlords would put a claim on you
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Carmilla Carmine ⁎⁺˳✧༚
As much as she loves spending her mornings in bed with you, wishfully thinking she could stay there all day, she can only give you 3 more minutes at best. Being an Overlord and a CEO keeps her rather busy. You’re grown, you can handle yourself (you have to in this world) she’s not keeping tabs on your whereabouts. Carmilla isn’t itching for a fight like these new “up and comers”. Giving you something to protect you when she’s not around simultaneously puts a target on your back. A simple ring with her name inscribed would suffice, satisfying any possessive vices she may or may not have
˚✧₊⁎ Zestial ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Abhorrent is jealousy, driving the younger generations to filth like, ugh, hickeys. Although, on a certain level he does understand. Being in Hell for as long as he has and alone the same amount, he knows all too well the primal need to claim what other’s might steal. One must leave their mark as a warning sign for others. Zestial’s exceptionally charming when he wants something, notably not asking when he presents you with the crisply wrapped gifts. There’s no less than twenty. Boxes upon boxes of accessories and clothes that suit you but hold his color palette, spider and web details to boot. He’s utterly thrilled when you wear them, showering you in compliments and declaring himself the luckiest soul in Hell
˚✧₊⁎ Rosie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Goodness, have you seen how sinners nowadays go about the whole ordeal? What happened to romance!? Call her old fashioned, but Rosie likes a smidge of glamour in her techniques! She’ll walk shoulder to shoulder with you, holding her parasail over the both of you. She’ll accidentally press her painted lips on your cheek and forget, quickly getting swept up into conversation with someone or the other. It’s fine, no one would question her! Not if they wanted to live anyways. Butterflies swarm her stomach when she notices you haven’t wiped her imprint away, a proud smile spreading across her face. It becomes purposeful as the days go on
˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚
While happy to broadcast newsworthy exploits, sharing his private affairs with the world is out of the question. Of course the appeal of it all isn’t lost on him, he merely doesn’t see the point. Why broaden your horizons of potential dangers by claiming you publicly? To calm that unruly, covetous alien in the pit of his chest? He’s not that selfish! Besides, nothing less than something permanent could truly satisfy him anyhow
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
If he doesn’t have eyes on you, he’s working. Those measley hours apart won’t stop him from reminding all of Hell you still belong to him. He doesn’t trust anyone down here. He’ll convince you it’s for your safety that he tightens the collar around your neck. With a hum of approval, Val’s long and slender fingers twist the tag with his name on it. Heart shaped, of course, he loves you after all!
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Only the insecure need to put a claim on their person. That’s not Vox, no way! You’re never really out of his sights anyways, what with today’s power of technology and all! The need to brand you goes a different route. He wants everyone to know you’re spoken for, pulling you on camera every chance he gets. He wants them to stare in awe and envy but cast their eyes down when you walk by in public. A slight on you would be a slight on him personally and no one messes with The Vees
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
Truthfully, there isn’t much she wouldn’t do. You’re all over her Sinstagram and that says it all. Every runway show, every red carpet walk, every paparazzi shot you’re always beside her. Vel dresses you left and right to match her OOTD somehow. She snaps a pic every single day (sometimes more) to show her followers their favorite couple is thriving and stylish as always! The description never fails to scream how your all hers
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izukuszn · 5 months
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“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin. 
“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder. 
“You know you’re beautiful, right?” 
“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half-breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin. 
“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims that he wants to fully see you as best as he can. 
Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last? 
“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child. 
He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?” 
You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers. 
“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”
“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.
He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again. 
“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.” 
You sigh, “Will you now?”
You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go. 
“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”
You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.  
“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!” 
He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you that I think you’re beautiful.” 
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jujutsusimp · 11 days
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More than a weapon
🌸Gojo notices some change in his body due to his domesticated life with you and you love it.
Truly this is just a some self indulging fluff and cheesy romance but I needed it.
Content: Gojo x fem!reader, fluff, Gojo being insecure
“I really let myself go huh?”
You peek your head out of the book you are reading on the bed, watching Satoru look himself in the bedroom mirror, pinching a tiny bit of belly fat on his lower abdomen. This man is still carved like a Greek god, but finally, he has something more than muscles and skin.
“I will need to work on that,"  he muses absentmindedly, which makes you frown and answer instinctively: “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He raises an amused eyebrow at your intense declaration, looking at you with a teasing smile. “You like this, Babe?”, he demands with a chuckle while you let go of your book, getting up to embrace him. He doesn’t resist when you wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.
"Yes, I do”, you state firmly with a pout, tightening your grip almost protectively.
“Yeah?”, he insists with a smile in his voice while he gently pets your hair.
“Yes…”, you assert, inhaling his scent, his odor is still discernible despite the flowery perfume of your soap. He always washes with your soap, and you love that. “I am working very hard for this, you know...”
He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrating against your face. “Are you trying to fatten me, my love?”, he says with a teasing voice.
“Not particularly”, you answer softly, feeling some kind of happy melancholia, “but this little belly, it’s proof of all the time you stayed hugging me on the bed instead of exercising...”, you start, peppering his rock hard abs with kisses. “… of all the time you stayed watching a movie with me instead of babysitting the whole sorcery world…” In your eyes, his body being slightly more relaxed is proof of your years of domesticated life together, and you cherish it.
You breathe deeply, digging a bit more your fingers in his back, noticing his hands had stopped petting you. In fact, he is really quiet, which is abnormal for him, and you raise your head to look at him. He appears so vulnerable right now that you feel your heart drop.
“I am allowed?”, his voice is barely a whisper, carrying so much emotions. So much fragility. You wished you had the strength to hug him harder. You wish you weren’t so small and you could shield him in your arms like he does with you. “Yes, yes you are, my love, of course you are. You are allowed to live for yourself… to let yourself go”, you affirm, echoing his first words.
“There are a lot of people counting on me, you know…”
You pout at his protestation, finally letting go of his torso to grab his cheeks. “I know, I am not telling you to stop saving the world, just that your whole life doesn’t have to revolve around your work.”
He seems deep in thought, hesitant, and you cut all further protestation by getting on your toes to plant a kiss on his face, until he is the one lifting you so he can kiss you back, loosing himself on your lips with a tranquil passion. There is no hurry in this kiss, just prolonged contact and devoted tenderness until he withdraws his head to contemplate you, his hands still grabbing you by the waist and upper thighs. There is so much love in those blue eyes, but also some doubts lingering.
“What are you worrying about, love?”, you ask softly, knowing he is still tormented. He looks confused, mumbling a bit as he thinks about it seriously for a moment. You don’t press him, caressing his hair gently in a soothing motion. Only an indecent amount of patience and love can make a man like him voice his insecurities.
“Useless… I don’t want to become useless.”, he finally admits lifting you a bit higher so he can bury his face on your chest and hide how troubled he looks right now.
He didn’t say powerless, or weak. He said “useless”. You contemplate his words for a second before kissing the top of his head affectionately. You still have a lot of work to do.
“You are not a weapon Satoru Gojo, you are a person, my lover, an incredible teacher, and a funny and passionate man. You don’t have to be useful, you have so much more to bring to the world than muscles and powers.”
You feel his grip tightening a bit on your body, almost painfully, but you don’t mind, closing your eyes while you dig your fingers into his hair.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me yet, I will just repeat it until you know you are enough, you are wanted, you are loved strongest or not.” You hammered with an unwavering voice, holding all your stubborness for things that truly matter.
“Alright, alright”, he finally relents, his emotions vibrating in his voice but coated with sweetness. You look down at him, watching him lift his eyes out of your chest. “I believe you”
You smile proudly, borrowing his signature cocky smirk, which makes him smile fondly in return. Still holding you with one hand, he removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you with love. “I guess as long as I am strong enough to do that, it’s okay.”
You lift an eyebrow at his mischievous grin forming behind the tenderness. “Do what?”
Before you finish your sentence, he is making you twirl in the air into his arms, and you gasp, clinging at his hair to not fall with a delighted chuckle he soon echoes.
Yes, it was more than enough.
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tojisun · 8 months
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not even lying but i couldn’t stop thinking about biker!simon ever since 😭
just imagine biker!simon at the bar with his friends, lounging, waiting for the time to run because after this little after-work drinks, he’s going to drive home to your place. his attention is split between his phone and the chatter of his friends, laughing in bursts at whatever embarrassing thing mactavish is recounting, before turning back to reading the message you sent.
> wearin ur shirt tonight <33
his lips curl in a smile and his heart flutters at how cute you truly are. he types out a response, licking the back of his teeth at the thought of coming home to see you in his shirt, when the chatter dies down in the group.
he catalogues the change, swiftly shutting his phone off before tipping his head up to assess what caused the shift in the mood, only for his eyes to land on a small group of women hovering by their table.
“uh, how can we help you lasses?” johnny, ever the gentleman, asks.
while one of them does respond to johnny, another slides into the empty space beside simon with a giggle.
“hey,” she trills, batting her lashes at him.
simon’s hand tightens around his bourbon, the quiet satisfaction that filled him up throughout the night dissipating. he nods in acknowledgment before turning back to his phone, seeing that there was no immediate danger for him to focus on.
ignoring his obvious lack of interest, she wraps her hand around his wrist and tugs hard enough that simon has to turn his attention back to her. he does so with a sigh.
“it’s so stuffy here,” she says, fanning herself, her eyes drawn onto the helmet he stupidly brought with him inside the bar. she presses close, rubbing her tits along his inked arm. “wanna take me out for a ride?”
simon snatches his arm from her hold, his face pinching in irate. “no, not interested.”
she pouts, cheeks flushing and simon wonders how much of it was because of the alcohol and how much of it was because of shame. he flicks his eyes up to the rest of the group, narrowing his eyes at the unabashed glee in johnny’s face at seeing simon be cornered by someone who can’t take a fucking clue, before shooting a betrayed glare at price and garrick who are choosing to ignore him.
the girl’s friends are now left sitting awkwardly, watching as their friend flounders for simon’s attention – something he’d never give, anyway.
“c’mon, big boy,” said friend croons, twirling her hair. “don’t wanna take a sweetheart for a drive?”
simon sighs, done for the night. “again, not interested," he replies. "'sides, i’ve got the sweetest darling waiting for me at home. i don’t want you, miss.”
and with that, he stands up, snatching his helmet from the table and nodding his goodbyes to his friends. he doesn’t stay long enough to hear her sputter or watch her storm off because simon’s already out the door and walking to the parking lot.
he wears his helmet and slides his gloves on, before fishing for his phone to finally send you that text that he had been wanting to send.
See you soon, sweetheart. <
pocketing his phone, simon finally hefts himself up onto his bike and kickstarts the engine, the machine purring underneath him. he adjusts his helmet, zips up his jacket, before caressing the embroidered letters on his gloves. he traces the initials of your name, feeling his heart fluttering, and brings his gloved knuckles to brush his lips against them.
snapping the visor down, simon revs up the engine and drives off, his thoughts full of nothing but you.
(ext02.) (ext.03) // mlist!
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shaguro · 26 days
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synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡
angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡
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“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”
nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”
“oh, heh. my bad.”
nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.
it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.
unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“
“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”
“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”
“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”
satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“
without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.
truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.
both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 
kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.
“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”
nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.
your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”
“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”
anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”
“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”
anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”
“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”
“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”
that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.
“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”
you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.
there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.
in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 
“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”
“hmm . . . most of it.”
“the onlyfans part too?”
nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”
you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”
“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”
“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”
“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.
you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”
pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 
“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”
you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”
“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”
you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”
nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”
you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”
nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”
nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.
fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”
you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.
you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”
nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.
                                 kento nanami
                            chief operating officer
               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.
                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx
now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.
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tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy
© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.
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Text
This episode really highlighted how close Marcille, Laios, and Chilchuck actually are.
The viewer is used to seeing our main characters behave like coworkers up to this point—even friends—and they express normal, understandable levels of concern and fear when their other party members are in danger. But when the nightmare attacked Marcille, it brought out sides of Laios and Chilchuck that the viewer hadn’t seen before.
Laios immediately notices when something is wrong with Marcille, and he tells the others as soon as he’s sure of the problem. Chilchuck and Senshi then follow Laios’ lead as it becomes clear that he intends to make her get some rest.
We see Chilchuck’s hands lay out the bedroll and Senshi’s hands set up the pillow, working in almost perfect tandem as Laios physically wrangles Marcille into bed.
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Senshi is in a similar perspective as the viewer, and mostly sits and watches the ordeal unfold. He doesn’t have a shared history, like these three do, so he helps in little ways, but mostly waits on standby for direction.
From here on out, it’s mostly Laios and Chilchuck who take over in planning how to help her.
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It’s uncommon for Chilchuck to openly show such distress and worry for one of his party members. He’s used to Marcille being able to defend herself; he’s used to her being capable and strong. He immediately defers to Laios for instruction, (rightly) assuming he will know what to do.
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This actually produces a reaction close to real fear from Chilchuck, who outright SMACKS her in a panic to wake her up before getting any further information.
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Laios has to quickly stop him, explaining that he could truly hurt her if he interrupts the attack this way. He tells them how he’s going to wake her, and he doesn’t hesitate. He jumps straight in, explaining what he’s doing for the others so that they (Chilchuck) won’t be afraid.
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Chilchuck doesn’t question him once. He just does what he can to hurry along the process. He tucks Laios in with his blanket as soon as he lays onto Marcille—an unnecessary action that betrays how much he cares for both of them.
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And Laios succeeds in helping Marcille out of the nightmare’s grasp. While trapped in her mind, he reassures her, protects her, tells her how much she’s valued and appreciated. He isn’t embarrassed or sheepish about it, either; he openly declares these things like it’s the most normal and obvious thing in the world.
He gets her out, he saves her. He did the exact thing he set out to do, even though he’d never done it before, and only had Falin’s secondhand information to work with.
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Once he wakes, Chilchuck immediately checks on him to see if he’s alright. Chilchuck is clearly still rattled, displeased with having to wait while both of his close friends were unconscious, fighting a battle neither he nor Senshi could see or help with.
Marcille wakes up shortly after Laios, but Chilchuck is still on edge, worrying that she’ll fall back asleep. Laios, too, has a moment of alarm when he makes sure she won’t close her eyes again.
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Once he takes the subdued nightmares out of Marcille’s pillow, only then do Laios and Chilchuck relax.
Laios, for his part, remained calm and collected almost the entire time. He did not show panic or fear when it became clear that Marcille was being attacked, nor when he told the rest of the party what he’d be doing to help her. And once the nightmares had been collected from her bedroll, he gently explained what happened, to everyone else’s horror.
Seeing this, it’s not a huge surprise that the Touden party is so successful. We’ve seen Laios handle danger with a level head; we know he’s capable.
But it’s an entirely different kind of talent to face a threat that’s targeting one of your closest friends—which can make even the most competent fighter sloppy out of fear of losing them—one that requires a high-risk, specific rescue style that none of you have ever tried before. And then pull it off flawlessly. Like damn, these guys are lucky to have him.
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empresskylo · 10 months
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cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?
i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.
Ghost
♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.
♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"
♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.
♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.
♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.
Price
♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.
♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.
♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.
♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…
♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.
♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.
♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.
Alejandro
♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.
♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.
♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.
♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.
♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”
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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months
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omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!
Talkative- C. Sturniolo
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pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris
classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons
inspiration: request^^
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship
summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!
Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)
Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)
☆ SFW
You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.
☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”
☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.
☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.
☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”
☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.
☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”
☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.
☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”
☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.
☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.
☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.
☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.
☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.
☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.
☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.
☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.
☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”
☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”
☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.
☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.
☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.
☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”
☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.
☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.
☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.
☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.
☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.
☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”
☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.
☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.
☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.
☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.
☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.
☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.
☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.
☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.
☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.
☆ NSFW
☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.
☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.
☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.
☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”
☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.
☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.
☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”
☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.
☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.
☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”
☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.
☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.
☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.
☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.
MASTERLIST
A/n:
Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)
Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!
Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋
Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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satoruxx · 5 months
Text
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.2k words summary: shoko-centric, as in it’s written from her pov, based on yesterday’s leaks bc i finally have some hope, simple bittersweet angst to fluff !! he’s coming back trust <3
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shoko’s eyes are focused as she works, but they can’t help but drift towards you, taking in your expression—half hopeful and half terrified as you watch her hands critically.
your teeth are digging into your bottom lip— worrying the flesh with bites and nips that are sure to eventually draw blood.
she wants to click her tongue and rub your shoulder in the hopes that you’ll stop looking so stressed. but she understands—after all, her hands are occupied with the most important thing in your world.
satoru’s body has begun regenerating on its own—as shoko had expected when he was brought back to her. her body had clicked into autopilot when that blue haired kid handed him off to her, her brain choosing to ignoring the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over her when she saw him pulled away from that death field.
so she could only imagine your feelings in this moment—scared, angry, and yet so hopeful.
because that’s what gojo satoru was to everyone—an embodiment of hope. he had been as such for so many years. she has no doubt that even in death he would be the same.
but despite all that, she wants the blue eyed idiot to wake up already—wants to see his lopsided grin and your relieved face when the two of you look at each other. so all she does is continue to work, because that’s what she’s good at—what she’s always been good at.
working in the shadows.
you don’t say anything to her—you’ve known her long enough not to. shoko thinks back to the thousands of times she’s healed you up after missions, thinks of your sheepish grin when she scolded you for being careless out there. you’ve always been careless about yourself.
she thinks you’ve only ever been truly concerned when satoru was the one who was in trouble.
the two of you were idiots—because while the two of you may not give a shit about your own safety, shoko constantly worried about you both.
so she inhales through her nose, keeping her eyes trained on satoru’s body. “he’ll be fine,” she says, voice steadily echoing around the room. she can feel your eyes on her, feel the studying gaze of them, and oddly enough she relaxes under it.
something so familiar about this all.
she hears you sigh, a nod to her statement, and shoko takes it as a sign of agreement.
it has always been this way with the three of you—too many words unnecessary. at one point in time, it used to be that way among the four of you too.
shoko doesn’t know how much time passes. all she can focus on is the energy flowing from her hands to satoru’s battered body and your rapidly steadying breaths. the silence is not unwelcoming—an odd comfort in the midst of the chaos raging not so far away.
something tilts on its axis when his eyes finally open.
shoko feels like her breath has gone cold, settling low in her chest as she watches him sit up. there’s a brief moment of confusion in his face—eyes hazy as he looks at her. she gives him a pointed stare, not trying to betray her emotions, but the expression is enough for satoru to understand that he wasn’t supposed to be here. the haziness in his eyes clear, and shoko thinks she might be hallucinating because he looks almost apologetic.
and then, his gaze travels past her, to the back corner, and when they land on you shoko can see the puzzle pieces click together. his pupils dilate, lips parting in a sharp inhale as everything finally comes back to him.
you choke back a sob—a sound so pained and shoko almost feels as though it’s cut through her flesh. satoru’s eyes are wild, arms reaching for you before his brain can even catch up. he pulls you against him with reckless abandon, your body folding into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
which, shoko understands, it is.
your arms are tight around satoru’s midsection, head buried into his chest—as though if you let him go he’ll slip away all over again. shoko doesn’t blame you—she doesn’t take her eyes off of him for the exact same reason.
satoru’s fingers remain tangled in your hair—a tremor to them that only the most observant eyes can pick up.
your shoulders shake with the effort of holding back a plethora of emotions that shoko both understands and doesn’t. satoru’s hands smooth down your hair, chest heaving as he shuts his eyes and presses his nose to your temple.
it’s an embrace that shoko is almost proud to see—a reunion that she’s grateful to be privy to.
satoru pulls back a little, hands cupping your face as his eyes dart over your features—wild and bright with life.
“‘m sorry—” he’s saying, voice oddly steady for the way his fingertips are trembling against your skin. “i didn’t—i thought—fuck, ‘m so sorry, sweets—”
“you came back.” you’re whispering, voice unsteady and thick with unfiltered longing. you pull him back into a hug. “thank god. you came back.”
satoru’s arms tighten around you imperceptibly. a featherlight kiss dusts your forehead—barely a touch but there all the same.
shoko smothers an amused huff. it’s about time.
your voice is shaking even with your cheek pressed against his chest. “i thought that you—”
satoru nods against your temple. “i did,” he answers, licking at his dry lips. “i mean—”
a sharp inhale. you pull back to study his face. satoru’s voice becomes imperceptibly softer. “i saw…”
shoko doesn’t need to ask what he saw—she knows it automatically. you seem to know it too.
“it’s fine.” he’s shaking his head, lips quirking upward—his thumb brushes over the slope of your cheek with the utmost care. “it doesn’t matter.”
you give him a rueful smile, eyes uncharacteristically dewy, and shoko thanks her lucky stars that the expression seems to bother satoru just as much as it bothers her. she watches him cup your face, leaning his forehead against yours with an oddly somber sigh. your fingers come up to press against his knuckles, and satoru smiles, eyes fluttering at the touch.
shoko sees the color slowly start seeping back into his skin, an all familiar flush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at you, and her shoulders drop—a weight lifting.
she takes a step back.
satoru makes eyes contact with her over your head. there’s something there, deep within cerulean blue, that has shoko’s body finally relaxing. he studies her, eyes wide and open, and for the first time in a long time, she sees the message in them clearly.
his lips curl upward at her, an expression so nostalgic it makes shoko think she can hear the sound of teenage laughter—a gentle voice whispering about the good and bad of their lives. she shuts her eyes—helpless.
satoru watches her expression, somehow understanding, and he smiles to himself. his chin tips down at her, an acknowledgment of sorts, that has her feeling oddly emotional.
shoko shoves her hands in her pockets, and for the first time in a while, she allows herself to smile.
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wildemaven · 2 months
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Joel is someone who spends too much time in his own head— too many thoughts at all times. But especially when it’s his first time with you.
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He likes you. A lot. There’s no denying how much so either, based purely on how much he enjoys spending time with you and how much Sarah likes you. he truly connects with you, deciding you both want to keeping exploring where things go.
Things progress slowly, a mutual worry about rushing to quickly before either of you is ready. Over the course of a few months, many dates have been shared. Each one solidifying the growing desire between the two of you. Making out in his truck, on the couch, tucked away from prying eyes in his laundry room after a summer barbecue.
His nerves are shot the night you both decide to take things further when Sarah is away at a friend’s place for the weekend.
Needing everything to be perfect— for you. Worrying how great he’ll even be since it’s been quite some time since he’s been with someone .
Expect it’s everything but perfect.
It’s awkwardness and concern. Even more so, Joel’s mind is riddled with anxiety about his performance.
Are you enjoying yourself? Do you feel okay? Is your body liking the things he’s doing? Does he still turn you on now that things have moved into this territory? Should he be doing those things that he’s seen in the porn he’s watched?
You sense the fear right away. A waterfall of apologies cascading from his mouth left and right. When he slips out of you mid thrust. When his nose knocks into your eye. When he mistakes your zealous whine for shrilled pain. When he feels like things are taking longer than they should.
He stills when you look up at him with a smile. Your hand coming up to caress his flushed cheek and he can’t help but smile back at you.
You tell him there’s no rush to finish and all the things you’re enjoying. That you’re more than happy to take your time and figure out what works and what doesn’t. You tell him that you like all of him and he doesn’t need to be anyone but himself.
He relaxes into your touch, grateful you’re not running out the door and hightailing out of the driveway, never wanting to see him again.
His kisses are driven with more confidence. His touch deliberate but sweet. Praise and guidance exclaimed with elated satisfaction. It’s perfectly imperfect.
The room is bathed in a sheen of moonlight. He tells you how beautiful you are. His favorite thing about you. The things he can’t stop thinking about when you’re apart. He tells you how he hasn’t felt this way about someone in a long time and he thinks he might be falling for you.
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makyurini · 1 year
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Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨
when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)
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cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?
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König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver
But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride
That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over
“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”
Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body
König, König, König
Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night
“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you
Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”
His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”
“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”
And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?
As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you
It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping
“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”
Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me
“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”
It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child
“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”
“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”
And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true
“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging
“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”
Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you
Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead
“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”
He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand
“What if I’m not pregnant though?”
The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”
You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.
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Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡
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dekariosclan · 5 months
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Allow me to rave for just a minute about Gale’s kiss scene in the epilogue.
First, there’s Gale’s gentle teasing of Tav, which we can all universally agree is magnificent, outstanding, exceptional, top-notch.
Then there’s The Boop™️. Something so perfect you could show it to an alien life form with absolutely zero understanding of human emotions or love, and it would still say, '…that’s the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.’
But the part that I truly love the most (and that I don’t see mentioned often) is this right here:
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I love that after Gale’s tease, Tav leans in for what they think will be a quick little kiss, but the minute their lips touch Gale’s, he’s so completely love-drunk he’s pulling them in for a makeout session.
Words aren’t necessary. Gale doesn’t feel like he has to ask or flatter or charm Tav first; he knows he can just reach out and his love will be reciprocated.
This is the result of Gale finally having a partner that lets his needs and his wants and his desires be met. He’s confident and secure enough in Tav’s love to know that he can just kiss them with a defenseless, honest passion, and he’ll get the same in return, because they love him for him.
Plus, the little sway/dance he does while kissing Tav!? He’s bursting with so much happiness he can’t contain himself.
I just. Love it. SO much.
And I am 100% sure this happens ALL THE TIME.
Professor Dekarios is late for his morning class again? He hasn’t even left his home yet, he’s still kissing his spouse goodbye.
Gale’s spending an evening with his friends at the Yawning Portal and suddenly they’re wondering where he went? He spotted Tav doing some shopping nearby and left to give his love a “quick peck on the cheek.” It’s been 40 minutes.
Elminster himself stops by to meet Gale to go to lunch? He finds Tara waiting for him, tail swishing in annoyance as she says, “Please do sit down and get comfortable. Gale will be awhile.”
Elminster just laughs. Is Gale caught up working on a spell? Got his nose in a book? He’s used to waiting on the boy, he’ll probably just be a few minutes more.
Tara: “He’s saying goodbye to Tav.”
Elminster: Sighs, takes off his hat, sits down.
And one final observation that sets my heart ablaze: remember when Gale told Tav at the Netherbrain battle, “I hope that wasn’t our last kiss. I’d take a thousand more if I could.” Just look at Gale pulling Tav in for those extra kisses; he’s already started counting. ❤️
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munson-blurbs · 4 months
Note
Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe
Us? Projecting? Never.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)
WC: 1.3k
Divider credit to @saradika
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Stupid D20. 
Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table. 
Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club. 
“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”
Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now. 
When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can. 
“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door. 
The only people left in the room are you and Eddie. 
Of course. 
“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face. 
“You’re my ride.”
Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”
You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts. 
“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again. 
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To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does. 
You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—
“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”
“N-No, ma’am.”
She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake. 
Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover. 
Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson. 
Crisis averted. 
Except…is it?
Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…
He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers. 
“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention. 
Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel. 
“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. 
“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”
His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge. 
“Yeah?”
Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway. 
“Eds? You okay?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing. 
You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”
“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself. 
The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong. 
And then you see it. 
Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact. 
It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name. 
“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”
He only nods in response. 
“What were you thinking about?”
Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it. 
You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention. 
Apparently, it very much had. 
“You liked it?” 
“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle. 
Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”
With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest. 
“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”
You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”
He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”
“You can cum on them, Eds.”
And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop. 
He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts. 
“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it. 
You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can. 
“Dinner and a movie?”
“I’ll wear that shirt.”
--
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ghxstmxchine · 11 months
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ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ
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All the little ways they show love...
ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ will stop in his tracks all the time whenever you have to stop to tie your shoes, it doesn't matter how far ahead the rest of your friends are. He doesn’t mind, always telling you that you both can catch up pretty quick and to take your time. If you need, he’ll tie them for you, promising that he’ll make sure they won’t come undone again, but he’ll always wait for you if they do. He’s got nothing better to do than be with you
Her interactions with Miles may make her seem oblivious, but ɢᴡᴇɴ is quick to notice everything when it comes to you. She’s always fixing your appearance, the strand of hair that’s sticking out weird she’s already carefully smoothing down. She’ll adjust any of your jewelry for you and swipe away marks from your cheeks with a giggle, but she’s never prompted. She’s always just doing it without second thought
Nothing is really sacred to ʜᴏʙɪᴇ, especially not any of his accessories. When you point out a patch of his you really like, you’ll find it stuck on your backpack. When you compliment his rings, he’s already sliding one onto your finger and kissing the back of your hand. Whenever you ask him why he does it he just replies with a shrug and sly smirk, why would he keep it when it looks better on you
ᴘᴀᴠɪᴛʀ shares everything with you, he saves you the other half of his orange and always leaves a portion of his drink for you. He shares his bed when you’re too tired to go home and it’s late and lets you sleep under his favorite handmade blanket. He leaves one hand free while carrying things just so he can still hold your hand. He shares truly everything, his secrets, his belongings and even himself
It’s easy to feel almost forgotten with ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ, he’s always getting lost in his work making you feel less than top priority. But the flowers on the counter he brings home are always replaced once they start to wilt and the coffee is always in the pot when you wake up in the morning. He may not be there in person all the time to show you how much you mean to him, but he embeds his love in every inch of your house
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more visually accessible version here
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