#perfect bond cleaning

[jamespaul123456]

Making Moving Out Easy: End of Lease Cleaning in Brisbane

Moving out of a rental house can be a difficult affair. The process of packing your possessions, planning logistics, and ensuring everything is in order can rapidly become daunting. However, one critical issue that frequently necessitates thorough attention is end-of-lease cleaning. In Brisbane, this last clean is more than just tidying up; it's also about satisfying the standards set by landlords or property managers in order to receive your bond back. Let's look at the ins and outs of end of lease cleaning in Brisbane.

[takitori67]

Can you draw arjuna and junao with their outfits switched??🙏🏻

Sure!

[brightendofleasecleaning]

Steps to Make Perfect Bond Cleaning In Melbourne

Achieving a perfect bond cleaning in melbourne requires proper planning and attention. Start with the end of lease cleaning checklist so that no item should be left unclean. Divide the tasks into different parts to ensure a complete end of lease cleaning. Hire a professional end of lease cleaning in melbourne to get your bond back money.

[sohya]

btw souya's such a good bf he lets me practice nail designs on him n he'll double wear gloves at work so theres no chance of him accidentally ruining the designs even though i offer to take it off him after a few days

[almostempty]

Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that. 

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy? 

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic? 

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 1.5 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk  

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift. 

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him. 

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that. 

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories. 

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach. 

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there. 

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked. 

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right? 

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible. 

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway. 

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course! 

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life. 

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench. 

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is. 

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep. 

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? 

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything. 

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench. 

Still, no Joel, however. 

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls. 

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.   

The next moment is a blur. 

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone. 

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow. 

“What are you doing here?” he barks. 

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run. 

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster. 

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist. 

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.” 

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you. 

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face. 

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch. 

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon? 

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead. 

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal. 

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic. 

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?” 

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door. 

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it. 

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop. 

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face. 

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk. 

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans. 

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues. 

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately. 

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock. 

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts. 

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm. 

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now. 

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core. 

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock. 

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop. 

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess.  You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one. 

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin. 

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor. 

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you. 

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back. 

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer. 

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin. 

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours. 

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief. 

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point. 

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?” 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare. 

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.” 

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked. 

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.” 

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle. 

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat. 

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him. 

“You need more?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum. 

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon. 

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene. 

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision. 

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.” 

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. 

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move. 

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door. 

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose. 

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize. 

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display. 

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen: 

Joel

Attachment 1 image

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

[kaijutegu]

Beating the Heat while Fat: A Summer Survival Guide

Summer is (almost) here and it’s going to be hotter than ever. If you’re fat (like me), you know how much hot weather sucks. Specifically, we get to deal with fun issues like underboob sweat, chub rub, skin fold sunburn, and more. And while I like to take a body neutral approach to everything, this can be hard in summer thanks to exclusion and neglect.

The thing is that not a lot of people really... talk about these things, though, because that would interfere with our image of summer. Not a lot of companies are marketing their stuff as a solution to fat people’s problems, because that would be acknowledging that fat people might actually want to go outside during summer.

Having been fat for many a summer now, I want to share some of my resources for enjoying summer! These are all based on personal recommendations and things I have directly experienced. Please feel free to reblog and add on with your experiences and recommendations!

However, if your commentary is even remotely fatphobic, you will be blocked and your comments will be deleted. This post is not for you, and nobody is actually interested in what you have to say!

Back and Underboob Sweat

Two words: Gold Bond. Gold Bond fixes this. It comes in powder, stick, and spray form. I’ve used the powder in shoes, but not on my body. They’ve recently released an invisible form of the spray, which I’m very excited about.

Spray this under your breast tissue or other skin folds, or on flat areas of skin like your lower back that tend to sweat. Some of their powders have aloe in them, which is delightfully soothing for the skin.

Make sure that if you’re sensitive to scent, you buy one of the unscented versions. The “fresh” scent is nice, but it is a scent!

When you’re using this type of spray, do it clean but dry. Don’t do it right after a shower- give your skin a chance to dry off. Lift your breast or skin fold, spray underneath, and then hold it for a couple of seconds to let the spray dry down.

You can also use other types of powder, like body powder or baby powder. There’s mixed evidence about talc-containing powder and its link to cancer, but some people do find talcum powder more irritating than talc-free powder, so whether or not you use this is up to you.

Do keep in mind that this is NOT sunscreen! Apply your sunscreen first for areas of exposed skin.

Chub Rub

Dealing with the tops of your thighs rubbing together is extremely unfun. There are a couple of ways I like to deal with this!

Slip Shorts

I actually reviewed a bunch of these a few years ago. Slip shorts or bike shorts are perfect for wearing under dresses or loose-fitting rompers as a way to stop your thighs from rubbing. As a bonus, if you’re using bike shorts, sometimes they come with extra pockets to stash stuff in.

Friction Sticks

If you’re wearing a swimsuit and don’t want to wear shorts, or just don’t want to wear shorts, period, then a friction stick is another good way to avoid chub rub! I have a couple, Bodyglide and Gold Bond.

If you’re buying Bodyglide, they have one that’s just as good, Bodyglide Outdoor, that is sometimes cheaper. There’s a Bodyglide “For Her” which I’ve never tried, but that’s usually more expensive and let’s be real, do you really need to moisturize your inner thighs? I think not!

There’s also creams you can use but I find those messy and less effective than the sticks. You might like them, though! Experiment with products to find the one(s) that work for you.

Friction sticks can also stop foot blisters. Rub a little on your heel, toe, or wherever you get hot spots. 

Dealing With Sweat

I sweat, you sweat, we all sweat. Humans were meant to sweat. Sweating’s a good thing. But that doesn’t mean it’s fun, and frankly I hate being sweaty. Typically, fat people sweat more than thin people, for several reasons related to the way we thermoregulate.

Fortunately, there are lots of ways to make summer sweating less annoying. I’ve written about this before, so you can check out that post for some of my favorite tips for dealing with sweat. Here’s some of the highlights.

Evaporative Cooling

A bandanna or other wrap filled with water crystals can do AMAZING things. You can make this yourself really easily- if you can’t find water crystals, you can just use Orbeez. They sell little 99 cent packs of those in the checkout lines at some stores and at the dollar store, and you can make several cooling wraps with one packet.

You can also get evaporative cooling towels, like Frogg Toggs. I don’t like those as much because they tend to start smelling a little funny, but they’re great for larger area coverage.

Using these will help cool you down and will do the same thing that sweat does– without being sticky.

Hair

If you have long hair, get it off the back of your neck. I used to put it up in a bun with a bun former, but now I just use claw clips. They’re cuter and easier! Seriously, this will help you so much. Get the hair up and away from your skin, you’ll feel so much better.

Hand Fans

I always have a hand fan with me, but not one of the little battery operated ones. I’ve tried a lot of those! I even took one up a mountain once, and it was the only reason I survived. But they never provide the same level of breeze that my folding fan does.

I use this one because it’s cute, and you can get cute ones for a couple bucks on Amazon. I do prefer fabric to the stiff paper ones, just because they’re a bit more durable- I’ve had mine for years now. It’s good.

I’m also not a huge fan of those fans that go around your neck, but I’ve seen many people enjoying them. If they work for you, great!

Hydration and Electrolytes

Carry water with you when you go places, and if you’re gonna be out for a while doing anything strenuous, take some electrolyte tablets with you. I like Nuun because I think they taste good, but there’s lots of brands out there.

There’s no one mineral called electrolyte, just so you know. Electrolytes are a group of minerals that includes sodium, potassium, and chloride as the primary (or significant) electrolytes. Electrolytes are important because they have a natural positive or negative electrical charge when dissolved in water. This electricity is how your nerves transmit information and how your cells make your muscles contract, so low levels of electrolytes can cause some serious issues. Different electrolyte imbalances have different symptoms, but common symptoms include nausea, fatigue, confusion, tremors, muscle spasms (cramps), and dizziness.

If you’re feeling those as you’re moving around outside, get somewhere cool, drink some water, and either eat some food or add electrolyte tablets to your water. This will help stabilize you quickly!

Skin Fold Sunburn Prevention

Everybody should wear sunscreen, period. End of story.

But if you’re applying sunscreen by yourself and you have skin folds, it can be a pain to reach them! This is especially true for any folds that form on your upper back or around your upper arm.

These areas can burn and be very painful, especially if you’re in swimwear or a sleeveless top. It’s also VERY easy to forget that these areas need sunscreen!

If you don’t want or don’t have someone to help you apply those areas you can’t reach, spray sunscreen can be a way to get those areas. If you don’t like the spray or want heavier coverage with a cream, then use a lotion applicator!

If the stick style doesn’t work for you (like if you have shoulder mobility issues), the strap style asks for a different range of motion. If you can’t find one that works for you at a big box store, look at a pharmacy. These are often sold as disability aids or for elderly people with a reduced range of motion.

But honestly, one of the most important things about this is just knowing your body. Know where your skin folds are and think about how they move as you’re applying sunscreen. Get underneath them- as you move, those areas can be exposed to the sun, too.

So yeah, that’s my best advice for beating the heat while fat. If you’ve got other tips, feel free to share them!

[rubyekinc]

https://bit.ly/3K2yfEB Keep your cat entertained for hours with our automatic rolling ball! This fun and interactive toy features a built-in sensor that detects your cat's movement and automatically rolls the ball, encouraging your cat to play and stay active. Perfect for solo playtime or for bonding with your furry friend, our automatic rolling ball is the perfect addition to your cat's toy collection. Get yours today and give your cat the gift of endless fun! Automatic rolling ball, Pet toy, Interactive, Self-propelled, Electric, Rechargeable, Programmable, Remote control, LED light, Rolling speed control, Durable, Non-toxic, Easy to clean, Indoor/outdoor use, Suitable for cats and dogs.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭

Finders, Keepers.

16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates

Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 1185

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

The Roommate Collection.

Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.

It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.

He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.

He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.

You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.

"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"

Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.

"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."

You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.

You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.

Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.

"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"

"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."

"Waffles it is."

Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.

"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.

The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.

"Is that my shirt?"

You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."

"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."

You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.

"Are you... alright, Carmy?"

"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."

"... like what?"

"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."

He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.

He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.

"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.

"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."

You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.

Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.

He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.

As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.

"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."

You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.

"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?

You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.

"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."

You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.

"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.

"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.

"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"

[obsessivelullabies]

— being mafia!tf141's assistant.

warnings : possessive, yandere behavior. fem reader.

a/n : i've never written mafia before? i hope this makes sense?? i plan to write four different parts for each of them individually!

— in all honesty, your relations with the mafia were completely accidental. you were a naive young woman in search of work. being some rich guy's assistant sounded easy enough. you did find it a little funny how there was no traditional interview process, just a bunch of slightly sketchy paperwork sent your way. luckily for you, you got the job!

— you were told an address, so you showed up. it turned out to be a massive house, which was even more shady. as you stood outside the door, a little too frightened to knock, you realized how sketchy it all was.

as you were lost in thought, the door swung open, revealing a muscular, shirtless man. he was only adorned in a pair of black boxers, he looked slightly peeved.

"who the fuck are you?" he acknowledged you after eyeing you up and down.

your eyes gazed on his firm chest due to how he nearly towered over you with his height. "i'm the new assistant.." you practically squeaked back at him.

the man grinned suddenly, his demeanor changing. "come in," he stepped aside, allowing you inside their home.

— the place was slightly cluttered as he showed you around, he introduced himself as soap. you assumed, or rather, hoped, it was a nickname. soap was immediately very touchy feely with you, slinging his arm around your waist or shoulder, running his large hand down the small of your back, stopping at your hips.

— soap showed you what your jobs were, things such as cleaning, cooking and basically whatever one of the men needed at the moment. he told you about the three other men, gaz, ghost and price. from what you gathered; they ran some kind of business. every mention of it was vague, yet you picked up that price was the 'boss' of sorts.

— after a lot of chatter, soap left your side and allowed you to work. the next man you met was just coming home, he was dressed fancily, seeming to be in a rush. he was quiet and polite, taking the time to introduce himself. gaz. soap hadn't said much about him.

— gaz was a sweetheart to you, asking you questions about yourself, apologizing for the slight mess in their home. you were excited to work for the two; both seemed pleasant to be around.

— the first two weeks of your job went by smoothly, soap and gaz would often lounge in whatever room you were in, chatting mindlessly to you. you would even say you bonded with the two.

— soap adored how good of an assistant you were. he loved eating your cooking, how you always made sure he liked your efforts. you were so obedient. so perfect for him.

— gaz had grown attached to your pretty little voice. you were so polite. he found it so cute how naive you were, how you never questioned what he did for work. he had a petname for you, ‘gorgeous’. with how much he called you it, you wondered if he even knew your real name.

— when price and ghost returned from their ‘business’, they were both relived to finally have some help. they showed it in different ways.

— at the start, ghost basically ignored you. his skull mask frightened you anyway. he only spoke to you to give you commands, yet over time, your charm grew on him. still, he wasn’t very talkative. he’d request your silent company. something to make him feel less alone.

— price, the boss, was very dominating. he appreciated your hard work, which soap and gaz had told him about. price thought you were adorable as a small animal. something to be protected and pet. every morning when you first got to work, you would make his tea for him. these slowly became his favorite moments.

— the longer you worked for them, the more mysterious they all became. they were vague whenever you hinted at your curiosity. you decided not to pry.

— you were unaware how possessive they’d all became. how they vied for you and yours affections. when price practically demanded you work longer hours, you just assumed you were a super good assistant.

— the four men became obsessive over you after only a few months. your life had gotten.. complicated ever since. especially when you learned what they really did.

masterlist.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Yandere!JJK/HXH men when you take over domestic duties(NSFW)

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, implied Stockholm syndrome, yandere characters, nsfw in Gojo’s, Leorio’s and Geto’s, Illumi is the worst yandere to have, implications of reader being harmed in Illumi’s, reader is chubby

A/N: sorry if some of these are out of character, it’s been forever since I watched JJK and I’ve only seen season one!

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Geto, Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Illumi

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

JJK

Gojo

He’s ecstatic. Although Gojo is perfectly capable of keeping his own home clean and making his own food, he’s more than happy to watch you walk around in a sweater and jeans, tidying up the place and making a meal for the two of you to share. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”

He can’t help but coo and fawn over you, pulling you away from your work to smother you in kisses and right squeezes. He’s got a bad case of cuteness aggression, and can sometimes forget his own strength. It’s best you let this happen, he’s in a good mood, and you’d rather stay on his good side.

His reward is to stay between your plush thighs, making you cum on his tongue until you’re crying and begging him to stop. Because it’s a reward, he’ll listen this time. Gojo wants this to be good for you after all, since you have finally begun acting like you’re supposed to, like the perfect stay at home girlfriend and not the woman he keeps captive.

Nanami

Although his heart races with joy and love when he notices you’ve started taking over the cooking and cleaning, he still can’t stand to see his darling do all of the tasks around the house, so he used this an excuse to get you to love him bond with you more. He’ll roll up his sleeves after a hard day of work and come up behind you, hands taking away the spatula. “I’ve got this, you go relax.”

He’s determined to spoil you for the upcoming week, bringing home sweets from his favorite bakery to share with you and buying you those books you’ve been asking for. After all, it gets boring being trapped in his home every day. He might as well give you a reward for being such a good girl.

Choso

When he comes home to see you wearing an apron and cooking dinner, he nearly fucking LOSES it. He just stares at you from the doorway, mouth agape. When he took you, you cried and cried begging to go home every day, and now you were humming to a song on the radio as you made dinner for the two of you. “Princess, that smells amazing.”

He follows you around as you work, watching until you swat him away for making you nervous. Choso can’t help but swoon when you offer him a plate of food, face hot with embarrassment.

Geto

He more or less expected you to get the hang of being his little wife eventually, so it’s less of a shock and more of pleasant surprise to see you with your hair pulled back as you dust the bookshelf in his office. “My, my, seems my little wife has gotten busy.”

Although this was expected of you, Geto still goes out to buy you a new apron and cleaning supplies, along with your comfort food to reward you for your good behavior. Maybe you’re finally coming around to the idea that you’re his wife, and will respect him as your husband! He’ll hold you in his lap, letting you cockwarm him as he keeps a hand on your plump hip. “There you go, that’s my sweet little wife. Taking me so well, you’re ready for a creampie aren’t you? You can take it, sit still and pretty and I’ll let you call your family this weekend.”

HXH

Kurapika

He had made the kitchen perfect for use, all the(hard plastic) utensils in your favorite color, and a fridge always full of fresh food. Kurapika hoped you would eventually come around to cooking and cleaning, but he certainly didn’t mind doing the work himself if it meant you would be happy and comfortable. When he saw you preparing a meal for him after seeing he’d been losing weight and skipping meals, he nearly cried from joy.

You were worried for him, you cared about his health! He wasn’t delusional, he knew he took you away from your friends and family and had a love for you that sometimes crossed into obsession, but it was obvious his efforts to make you happy and comfortable had worked. “Angel, I cannot explain how happy this makes me, thank you.”

He spends the rest of the night doting on you, wanting nothing more than to snuggle and hold you to him. Kurapika is just incredibly happy to know despite your tentative behavior towards him, you at least care about his health and well being. That’s the first step towards falling in love, and he’s determined to make sure he follows through each and every step.

Leorio

Honestly, with his busy schedule working at the hospital, he didn’t have much time to cook and clean. Thankfully, you eventually got fed up with eating takeout and living in a messy home, so you took over the cooking and cleaning for your own sanity. When Leorio came home from an especially brutal shift, he nearly cried when he saw the apartment clean and smelled dinner cooking. His little princess was cooking and cleaning, all for him! His guilt from kidnapping you faded away into mushy lovey dovey thoughts as he came up behind you. “Mmm, princess you look like the perfect little house wife right now…”

You can’t help but notice the bulge poking into your ass, his hands wandering around your body. Usually he’s not so touchy, preferring to respect your boundaries in an effort to get you to trust and love him, but it’s hard to resist you when you’re making him a meal and looking oh so cute! He can’t help but squish your chubby tummy and grab at your plush thighs, tugging down your pants to get to your plump pussy!

Chrollo

Honestly, he never expected to come home to a meal being set on the table and the small home they were currently staying in to be spotless. Chrollo eyed the various dishes, raising an eyebrow at you. “You made this?”

You looked up at him, looking a little shy but accomplished. “Yeah… I figured you… would be hungry after your… job.”

Although you sounded sincere, Chrollo wasn’t stupid. He made you try a bite of everything before sitting down to eat. After seeing your look of disappointment when he questioned if it was poisoned, he almost felt bad. This was a genuine attempt at making a meal and trying to live as normal as a life as possible, but he was too jaded to just accept that. “Sorry, dear. I haven’t even thanked you for preparing such a lovely meal. Thank you.”

Illumi

He’s another one that expected you to do all of the domestic duties from the get go. Although there are butlers that take care of most of the work, you as his victim wife was expected to take care of his every need. You were very resistant to this at first, being absolutely terrified of him, but with a little ‘gentle’ pushing in the right direction, you were able to become the perfect, reluctant little house wife.

Although you preformed your duties to your best ability, you had never been genuine or happy to do them. He noticed this in the way your eyes looked empty and humiliated when forced to clean up the blood he tracked into your bedroom.

But tonight was different. You were excitedly cooking away in the kitchen, Illumi almost looking… soft when you smiled at him. Were you finally coming around? It took a lot of hard work, but he had finally molded you into a happy, cute little housewife. “Ah… is this my favorite meal? Thank you, it looks delicious…”

He noticed how your face lit up with his praise, the dark haired assassin taking note to use that to his advantage in the future.

[wolviensabes]

SFW Alphabet: Wolverine

a/n: yayyy I am writing a new character finally. I've been wanting to do Wolverine for a while, I just got around to doing it. Especially after D&W, I can't help myself. So like my main, I will start off with the alphabet and gradually write more into him. My characterization will be mixed based on film, show, and comic so not one specific source. I have never written this character before so the way I write him may change as I continue. This is also unedited ignore mistakes <3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

Logan is a fairly affectionate dude, once you get past his gruff and rugged outer layer. He will pull you close to him and let you lay on him or snuggle up close. He's very warm and makes the perfect heater since he generally likes to keep his room cold to combat his body temperature.

He enjoys cuddling, though he won't outright say it. He likes feeling you lay close and seek him out for comfort and warmth regardless of the time of day or situation. He won't ever deny you that.

He likes to ruffle your hair and he will lightly nip at you and grin when you give him a surprised look.

He's all for hugs, he likes when you hug him and try to hug as tight as you can, he's completely unfazed. Sometimes he will grab you and lift you up, and laugh when you try to do the same. His adamantium skeleton weighs him down more than you thought. He's strong as hell to be able to move so much and you realize it the moment you try that.

When you lay close he will rub your back or idly rub another part of your body. Any kind of touch he can get. His fingers are so warm, it feels especially good if you're shirtless laying on him. He really enjoys skin to skin contact.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?):

He'd be a bit of a loner, but in the end he will always come through. He's hard to initially bond with, so be prepared for him disappearing a lot, hopefully you are a patient person.

At first he might not want to bond with anyone because his life is a roller coaster of shit, but persistence might wear him down enough to let you in his friend circle.

He's the type to drink with you, have a cigar and talk about whatever. He's down for brawling, he likes to mess around in that sense.

But Logan likes his alone time too, so balancing out social and private time is important. If you push too much I think he will back off a lot. He's had a shit life and if he cares a lot about you, he might not want it to be too obvious you are important to him. A specific mutant tends to kill off his close relationships.

*cough* Sabretooth *cough*

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?):

He does, he just won't admit it. I don't see Logan as a touchy feely guy with words, his actions mean a lot more than what he says.

Logan accepts cuddling basically anytime you want, just get close and snuggle up against him.

He might invite you to do so if he notices that you want to but are too unsure to initiate it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):

It's shown that Logan has settled down before. So he'd do it again with the right person.

He would rather be the type to support or provide rather than be the one to cook and clean, but he will lend a hand if necessary.

Compromise is possible. He might make a huge mess in the kitchen though.

I can see him working a grill pretty well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

Straightforward and to the point. He'd tell you about his past and how complicated his life is, and he doesn't want you caught up in the mess of it too.

Logan might try to break things off after they get serious, worrying about what could happen to you, but if you insist, he will stay. He just doesn't want you to get hurt.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

It would take a while before Logan would be ready for marriage. The life of an X-Man is complicated enough, and his especially is hard to handle. He wouldn't want to settle down for a long time.

But once you find that sweet spot, and have a long conversation and understand the concerns and dangers, he would be willing. You just have to be careful.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

Logan is naturally more rough than most, but he can be gentle when he wants to be or needs to be. He has a good heart, despite what he likes to portray himself as.

He's able to caress and hold you like a man who hasn't been through the worst Hell of his life, and he's able to understand and connect with you emotionally too. He does try his best for you, even if he isn't very good at first.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):

He does. He likes when you hug him. As mentioned before, he likes to lift you up and he chuckles as you try to lift him (and fail).

He throws you over his shoulder when he picks you up and he teases you as you try to squirm away.

A lot of the time your hugs turn into play fights.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?):

For Logan, saying that would take a long time. He'd be very reluctant to admit it or even begin a relationship in the first place so he doesn't want to endanger you by admitting he has such intense feelings for you.

When he does, he makes sure you two are alone and he whispers it to you either when you are being intimate together, or he admits it to you after something happens where he thought he lost you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

Logan doesn't necessarily get 'jealous' but I can see him being very possessive. He knows his partner wouldn't cheat and he is very comfortable and secure in his relationship with you, but sometimes he can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

He will come up to you and growl at the person he feels jealous of, possessively wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you closer to him, glaring daggers at the person.

I can totally see him unsheathing his claws and asking you how they look, he claims he 'polished them' and wants you to see, but it's just a way for him to further intimidate the person in front of you.

It always works.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

Naturally, he's a bit messy. He likes kisses that leave you breathless, but are pretty passionate and demanding. He will kiss you until you are pulling back to breathe, and he lets you take a few breaths before diving back in for more.

He bites your lip, his tongue explores your mouth, the works. His hands are gripping onto you and holding you flush against him, his dominance fully showing when he is kissing you and you cannot complain.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?):

Logan doesn't really like being around kids, but he's surprisingly good with them. he's not mean to the kids obviously, he just prefers not to be around them. He doesn't like 'babysitting,' even though he's been forced to do so multiple times.

He has a natural instinct to protect, and he's proven time and time again that despite his attitude towards the children around the mansion, he's protected the entire mansion and the children inside with ferocity.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):

Grumpier than normal, if that's even possible. He hates mornings. He'd much rather wake up on his own and have the time to slowly wake up fully and start his day than awake to an alarm.

He has trouble sleeping at night because of nightmares, so by the time morning comes, he's fallen asleep. He wakes up late morning to mid afternoon on a good day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?):

Logan is more active at night due to his nightmares. He doesn't sleep well and rarely gets a good night's rest. When you came along, he asked if you could sleep in another room since he woke up swinging a lot. But gradually your presence helped and you were there for him when he woke from his nightmares.

Now, he can sleep without waking up and worrying about hurting you. Nightmares still plague him, but they're much quieter when you sleep beside him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):

Logan has to be open with certain things, just for your safety. You learn things with him about his past and himself, he does try to keep some of the things he's done to himself just to prevent any possible arguments from you asking too many questions. Logan doesn't like to sit and explain why he did things he had to do, especially if it's generally something considered to be bad.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):

To a degree, he's...somewhat patient. He can snap quickly, but he is verbal about his irritation before he acts on it.

But this can also depend on the person annoying him. Some people just make him act before he can even get the words out.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

He has a very good memory, I mean he remembers things from decades ago, so he can remember something simple like your favorite song or color.

He remembers little things. Your favorite things, how you enjoy specific scents or tastes, and all the meaningful stuff that warms your heart that he remembers.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):

I don't think he has one specific thing he enjoys the most. I would say maybe the first time he could actually sleep without worry of hurting you and he woke up feeling pleasantly rested, because you were by his side and he didn't have any nightmares.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

Congratulations, you have an insane attack animal on your hands.

Logan is insanely protective over you. He can't help himself. You are his, and he needs to keep you safe at all times.

It's in his nature, and sometimes he can't turn it off. He's always hovering over you, watching the people around you and making sure no one is looking at you for too long.

He's very vigilant by nature, so his head is almost constantly on a swivel despite his cool appearance.

Logan wouldn't hesitate to fuck someone up if you asked him to, or defend you at any time. He'd break someone's nose for talking bad about you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):

He would try as much as you liked him to, I think for him, getting you flowers or treats that you like is his default until he recognizes what means the most to you and he begins to do that.

As for planning things, he mostly leaves that for you unless you want him to plan something. He's very open to doing whatever you want, as long as you're happy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):

At the beginning of your relationship, he disappears a lot and his communication is shit. It makes you think that he isn't very reliable, and it causes some drifts in your relationship early on. He also doesn't explain a whole lot at first, but once you progress further he gets better at communication.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

Logan is a very rugged man, he doesn't spend too much on his looks, but he does enough not to be considered unhygienic. Otherwise his concern for his appearance isn't very strong. Unless you had a problem with it, he wouldn't put any more effort into his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

Once you get to the bonded stage, he doesn't want to be apart from you. He cares a lot about you and once he admits to loving you, he is fully committed. Nothing could keep him from you and he'd tear a rift in the world to get to you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):

Play fighting is one of his love languages. He loves to play fight. He can win, every time, you know that. But he still likes to wrestle around and let you think you're winning...then he pins you down within seconds.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Anyone who would try to boss him around in an annoying way or try to change him. He doesn't want a partner who tries to change who he is. He wants to be accepted, he wants to be able to be himself. Playful bossing around is different, but if you genuinely try to make him do every single thing you say, you two will butt heads and you won't be compatible.

If you nag too much that would annoy him. He drinks, he smokes cigars, you either have to deal with it or say nothing. He will continue to do it regardless of your personal opinion about it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?):

Logan tries to get as much sleep as he can, but he has chronic nightmares so sometimes it's very difficult for him to sleep fully during the night. Having you with him helps, and gradually as you sleep beside him, his nightmares calm enough for him to sleep through the night without waking up swinging or trying to stab the closest thing near him.

He generally sleeps late at night to late morning or early afternoon, he doesn't keep normal sleeping hours.

He likes having you by his side when he does sleep, he feels more secure with you tucked under his arms and snuggled into his chest. Your presence, your scent...everything, it helps relax him enough to fall asleep.

He always sleeps closest to the door so he can jump up and protect you if necessary.

Thanks for reading.

*SNIKT*

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[latenightdaydreams]

https://twitter.com/adultvide/status/1789610054754378177?t=-uye80G6jPXsyPbYaGE5KQ&s=19

Can you please write about divorced!Konig with babysitter!reader. He has a three years old son and he has to go on a deployment so he hired a babysitter, allow her to stay in his house because she's still in university. After months he comes back from his deployment. When he opens the main door and sees the babysitter is playing with his son. That scene is so warm for him 😩

The link has been removed BUT I did get to watch it before.

(It was a guy thigh f-ing his baby sitter before accidently slipping in)

The Nanny (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, thigh fucking, age gap

1.8k word count

🍷

.

.

König turns his key in the lock, opening the door. Once inside, he kicks off his boots, dropping his bags. In the distance, he can hear Jakob giggling, followed by the little pitter patter of his feet. He walks forward into the home more to see you hiding behind one of the chairs while Jakob runs around looking for you.

Your beautiful eyes meet König’s, putting your finger over your lips as if asking him to not give you away. A beautiful smile on your full lips as the sound of Jakob calling him draws his attention away.

“Were Momo at?” Jakob put his arms up in confusion.

“Momo?” König seemed confused until he realized that was what he was calling you. “Oh, I don’t know where Momo is.” 

Jakob looks around the room before walking the opposite direction of you. König watches as you crouch, sneaking up behind Jakob, wrapping your arms around him and spinning him around. Loud laughter emanates from the both of you. He can’t help but to chuckle to himself as he watches how the two of you have bonded. 

His eyes drift down to how your ass looks in your gray leggings before thinking about how perfect your stomach would look round with his child. You’ve already proven yourself as being a capable mother. He snaps out of it once he hears your voice.

“I was going to tuck him in if you wanted to say goodnight now.”

“Ja, Danke. Come here.” He wraps his arms around Jakob and kisses his face all over. “Have a goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Ich liebe dich.” Jakob kisses him back.

“I love you too.” 

You grab Jakob's hand and walk him upstairs to his bedroom. He jumps into his bed as you grab his favorite book. Snuggling on the bed with him, you open to the first page and read. While reading, you can hear König moving around downstairs. As Jakob falls asleep, you close the book and kiss his forehead. 

“Good night, Jakie.”

As Jakob sleeps on the bed, you quietly make your way out of his bedroom door. You make your way downstairs to clean up the mess left behind from the wild day of playing. Yet, once downstairs, you see everything is cleaned up already. 

“Would you like a glass, Hase?” König holds up a glass of wine to you as he takes a sip from his own.

“Oh,” you look from the glass in his hands to his eyes. “No, thank you.” You politely reject. 

“Come on, you’re old enough, no?” 

“I am…” You blush and slowly accept the glass of wine. 

König watches your lips apart and takes a small sip as he smirks. He takes a sip of his own and walks to the couch in the living room, leaning back, and stretches out his long legs on the coffee table. He pats the spot on the couch next to him.

You sit next to him, keeping a small space between the two of you. You’ve never been this close to him before, or really spent any time at all with him other than when he hired you. 

“Thank you, for everything you do. Caring for Jakob, the house, my plants. I’d be lost without your help.” His Austrian accent is as smooth as butter.

“It’s no problem, really. Thank you for giving me a place to stay.” A nervous giggle in your voice.

“Not an issue at all, Hase.” He gently moves his hand to your knee and strokes the soft fabric of your leggings. “How are your classes going?”

“They’re all going well.” You look down at his hand on your knee before you take a bigger drink from your wine glass.

“Gut, I’m glad to hear that.” His thumb rubs back and forth, sliding his hand up to your thigh ever so slightly. 

There is a lull in the conversation, causing you to turn your attention to your wine. König takes a moment to let his eyes drift over your body, taking in the way your body curves as you sit.

“Are you talking to any boys? I know Austrian men would love a woman like you.” His eyes drift from your breasts to your eyes.

“Uh, no boys.” Your nervous laughter only gets worse so you cover it up by drinking more.

“No? A beautiful young woman like yourself with no boyfriend?” His hand gently squeezes your thigh. He notices how you finish your wine quickly. “Are you wanting a refile, Hase?”

“No, I should get to bed. Jakob still likes to wake up before the sun rises.” I smile.

“Here, I’ll take your glass for you.”

“Thanks.” You hand it to him, standing up. “Good night, Herr. König.”

“Just König is fine, good night.” 

He stands to walk to the kitchen, his eyes following you as you go upstairs. The way your hips sway is hypnotic. Continuing on, he lets out a sigh and leans against the counter. It’s been decades since he was single so he has no idea how to flirt with women anymore, let alone one as beautiful and young as you are.

In your room, you take off your leggings and shirt, tossing them into the laundry basket. You reach behind you to unhook your bra, placing it on the back of your desk chair. Since it was a warm night, you slip on a night gown. Just as you are about to get into bed you hear a knock on the door.

König waits for you to answer the door, his arm up and resting against the door frame. Once you open, his eyes instantly drop down to your breasts. Your nipples are hard and he can see them clearly. The dress barely reaches your mid-thigh, you look absolutely divine. He has forgotten everything he was going to say before seeing you. 

The hand resting by his side comes up and cups your face, “You…are so…beautiful.” The words leave his lips slowly as if he is trying to be cautious with them. After all, you’re his son's Nanny and he doesn’t want to chase you away. He pulls you towards him as he leans in and kisses you deeply. His other arm comes down and wraps around your waist and lifts you up into his arms, your legs wrap around his waist causing your dress to come up even more.

As he walks into your room, he kicks the door closed with one of his feet. His mouth opens against yours, nipping at your bottom lips so you open your mouth. You do, and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He swirls it around, taking in the way you taste as he groans.

König gently lays you on the bed, his heavy body pressing you into the mattress. Your hands caress his muscular arm as his hands pull up your nightgown, he is desperate to see what you look like underneath it all. 

Once your dress is up enough, he breaks the kiss to pull it off of your body. Gently, he touches every inch of you as he drinks you in. His fingers run gently over your nipples. He leans in and begins to flick his tongue over one while rubbing circles over the other. 

“You’re stunning, Hase.” He whispers into your tender flesh before he continues. Slowly, he undresses himself. Lips occasionally coming back up to kiss yours.

You stop him once he reaches for your panties, “I’m not on birth control.”

“Oh… I don’t have condoms.” König whispers, thinking for a moment. “I won’t fuck you tonight.”

König quickly gets back into kissing your down your neck, down your stomach, and to your thighs. He pulls down your underwear to expose your beautiful pussy. A groan escapes his lips once he sees you fully nude. It’s like a dream. Without realizing he began to play with his cock, he’s never seen such a beautiful woman before.

Small moans escape your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch his lips make their way to your pussy. After every sloppy kiss he gives you a small bite that makes you tremble every time. Once his mouth reaches between your legs, he wastes no time. He quickly wraps his lips around your clit and begins to suck.

You jerk forward as you begin to moan, his bright eyes looking up at you. Letting go he laps his fat tongue over your clip rapidly. He grabs your legs and folds them back, knees by your head, and begins to swirl his tongue around your tight asshole. You’ve never had this done before; a gasp escapes you as you watch him.  

His eyes flicker from your pussy in front of him to your surprised face. He smirks and moves one of his hands to your clit and begins to rub it. Your face begins to turn into one of pleasure, his cock twitches wishing to be inside of you.

König lowers you again, moving his face to kiss your side and stomach as he slips two of his fingers into your pussy. His fingers are so big they feel better than your toy. Your moans get slightly louder so you grab the blanket to bite on to. A wet trail of kisses trails back down to your pussy, his tongue moving in circles around your clit. 

“König! Too much!” You try to push his head away but he shakes it.

“Not until you cum.” He feels your fingers pull his hair as your moans slowly escalate. Your hips begin to rock into his tongue so he holds it still for you as his fingers curl up and rub back and forth on your g spot. 

You close your eyes as a strong wave of ecstasy crashes over you, feeling the wetness of your orgasm on your thighs. The blanket in your mouth doing little to silence your moans as you cry out for König. He moves his face away, withdrawing his fingers and rubbing them on your wet thighs. 

“Lay down on your stomach with your legs closed together.” 

You do as he says without question, looking over your shoulder as he moves his body over yours. He slips his sensitive cock between his thighs, using your cum as his lube. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he thrust himself between your thick thighs. Your legs twitch when the tip of his cock rubs past your clit.

“Fuck you’re so soft.” He moans. He watches your ass jiggle with every movement, driving him wild. There is no way he will last very long. 

“I’m going to cum.” König whimpers. Getting lost in the sensation of you, he begins to fuck your thighs in a quicker pace. His cock accidently slips into your tight little cunt, instantly wrapping around him as he thrust almost all the way in. 

“Oh fuck!” You cry out from feeling your cunt stretched out suddenly. König’s cock throbs deeply inside of you. He doesn’t pull out, what’s done is done. Instead, with his knees he spreads your legs apart, grabbing you by your hips and pulls you to him.

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 4

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

ANGST, very bad self image, some sort of non graphic self-harm (if you squint), Rhys is kinda an asshole, vomiting

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

There wasn’t so much as a scratch on his son. 

Not a hair on his head was harmed. 

Nothing. 

Feyre cleaned him with shaky hands, running a rag wet with warm water over his skin. Nyx was babbling in response, shaken but clearly…alright. 

Nyx. His son. 

The sudden weight that was lifted off Rhys' shoulders, as he crossed the room in three long strides...it felt like he could breathe again…as he pressed a kiss to Nyx’s head breathing in that scent that was unmistakenly his and then doing the same with Feyre. 

Her scent was thick with misery, shaking against him…Lilac and Pears, usually so perfect...

“Eira’s blood is all over him,” Feyre whispered. “I’ll wipe it off and I just find more.” 

Elain was sitting across from them, silently drinking tea, eyes concentrating on something far away. He wondered if she saw anything…any vision at all? But she didn't say anything. 

Feyre hung onto his hand and he cast out his mind, feeling Madja’s determination, as she…she tried to…

Save her. 

Save her from dying because she had thrown her own body between death and his son. 

For years, Rhys had believed the second-born Archeron sister to be... 

She had just been there. 

Existed in his periphery. 

She had been the only one who had at least tried to make Feyre’s life easier, the one who had cooked and cleaned and hacked up wood and washed the blood out of Feyre’s clothing and mended it when she had taken a tumble…Eira had at least tried. He still didn’t think that it had been enough but she had that going for her. 

Privately, Rhys had thought that the only thing that was fierce about Eira Archeron was her ability to love. 

The one and only time she had outright argued with any of them… had been about her sister… about Nesta and their intervention. 

She had argued harshly and fiercely about how they had no right to do this, about how it wasn’t fair…about how she would pay back that money if it meant that they would leave Nesta in peace. 

It had not only surprised him but also Amren and even Feyre…and even when they hadn’t listened to her…

It didn’t matter what Nesta threw at her head, her sister was still there every week, waiting for him to bring her up to the House of Wind. 

Every week. Like a clockwork, she had been there. 

Rhys easily admitted that he hadn’t been particularly understanding to her at that time.

And now, that ability to love had been…it was going to be the one thing killing her, wouldn’t it?

He hadn’t said it. He had only said that it looked bad…but he could feel how Madja was slowly reaching the limits of what she could do for her. 

Everything that was…

Eira Archeron, the one cauldron-born sister with no great ability. The one that had seemingly adapted well enough to being fae…never complained, never said anything. If she had suffered, she had done so silently. 

The quiet one, the one that liked the background…the one that had pined away silently over his brother, when her twin sister had been the object of his desires. 

Rhys had half expected that to end in a brawl, but once again…Eira hadn’t…nothing had been said. She had been willing to silently pine away.  

And then the mating bond had snapped for Az and that had been…

Quite frankly, the last fucking thing Rhys had expected. 

Every…every other female would have somehow made more sense in his mind. 

“Where’s she?” Nesta stormed into the room, Cassian hot on her heels. 

“Upstairs,“ Feyre answered. “Nesta, let Madja work,” his mate tried but Nesta fixed her with one look. 

“She’s our sister. If she dies, I am not letting her die alone!” Nesta snapped out, stomping upstairs. 

And that was that. 

Nobody tried to stop her. 

“She won’t die. It’s Eira,” Elain said, her voice strangely detached. Like that was written in stone, with all the trust in the world and Rhys wished, he had some of her confidence. Nobody else had it. 

Mor sat on one chair, knees hugged to her chest. His normally always so bright, colourful cousin curled together in one miserable ball. Feyre shook next to him and he reached out for her hand, gently squeezing it, before he let her go. 

He could feel the very foundations of his brother's mental shields wobble. 

His eyes snapped to Azriel.

To Azriel who stood there, hands still covered in Eira‘s blood, red streaks on scarred skin. 

Outwardly there was only a flurry of shadows trailing around him, worriedly. No other signs. 

But his eyes…his stare was empty. 

*Cassian. Don’t let him leave your sight,* he told his other brother sharply, mind to mind. *And try and get him to clean his hands,* he added as an afterthought. Maybe that…Maybe that would help…maybe…

*Rhys,* Caddian whispered into his mind. *If she dies…I don’t know if we’ll be enough.* Cassian didn’t say anything that Rhys wasn’t thinking. Nothing that he wasn’t dreading. *You know how he…he spent centuries waiting. He never talks about it but we both know how much he wanted a mate. How much he just wants to be loved…and…*

And the mating bond had just snapped. And if Rhys hadn’t pushed for Azriel to wait, they wouldn't even be in this fucking situation. 

Azriel’s mate’s blood…Feyre’s sister’s blood…Eira’s blood…it was on his hands. On Rhys’ hands. 

*I know.*

*If she dies, I don’t know what he’ll do.*

Neither did Rhys. 

“Madja is the best. If anybody can save her it will be her,” Cassian said aloud, probably for Azriel’s benefit, crossing over to Az, gently reaching out to touch their brother’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ll get you cleaned up,” he said quietly, gently pushing Azriel from the room, probably in search of a bathroom. 

Rhys pressed a kiss to Nyx's head, who was looking around the room wide-eyed, not understanding a thing what was going on. There seemed to be no sign of their son being exhausted from the magic he had expelled. Nothing. 

A problem for another day maybe. As long as he seemed fine... 

 “Mor?” he said quietly as he kneeled at his cousin’s side, reaching out for her, hand hovering…Mor looked at him, brown eyes wide and tearful. 

His cousin. He had killed Keir with nary a thought. 

“I never thought he would…do this,” Mor whispered, reaching out for his hand. “I thought…”

There was a tiny part of Mor that still believed that her family could change…that had still loved her parents…hadn’t wanted them dead. And he had taken that from her. 

“I know,” he whispered and she squeezed his hand in response. 

*I am sorry…* he said nonetheless in her mind and he could feel her surprise and then her acceptance. Mor wasn’t angry. Even when she had every right to it...Right to hate him for killing her father, even when Rhys had every right to do that as well. Hate could fester easily under such circumstances. 

*I am not,* Mor disagreed. *He got what he had coming…* A pause. Then she pushed a memory at him…Eira’s still body…the grey pallor of her usually pale skin…the way she had been limb and cold in Mor’s grasped as she had winnowed them to the River House and then fetched Madja…all in the span of seconds.

The blood…the dagger to the heart she had taken…Azriel’s magic pulsing around her, the shadows that hovered…all of it…it looked like the scene out of a nightmare. 

*It’s not looking good, Rhys,* Mor whispered. *Az doesn’t deserve this.* No, he didn’t. But neither did the female laying up there and fighting for her fucking life. 

All of it just because of…

He had pulled it all out of Keir’s head before he had killed him. The whole hare-brained plan, if one could call it like that. 

Nyx’s wings an obvious sign of his “half-breed” status…and with that, not something that Keir could stomach the thought of bowing to one day. Kill the heir, destablise the whole Night Court…Hope that Rhys could be baited. And then Keir would have made his move and the Night Court would be reunited under the glorious reign of Keir. 

And because of that, of the obsession of one male…his son had nearly died. 

He looked up sharply as he heard the steps. “Madja.” 

“I removed the knife. I stopped the bleeding,” Madja said, the dress she wore blood-flecked. “I did all I could.” 

He didn’t doubt that. The question was just if that was going to be enough. 

“She’s alive. For the moment,” Madja cautioned them quietly. “She’s…She’s fighting. The poison they dunked that knife in was…particularly nasty. It stops the blood from clotting…makes the pain feel much worse than it is.” 

She didn’t need to spell it out. It was torture. “Is…Is there an antidote?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. 

“None that her body would be able to absorb without killing her right now,” Madja said carefully. “She’s…magically exhausted. She expelled…most, if not all of her magic.” 

“She never had much in the first place,” Mor choked out. “She probably tried to winnow and…”

And that hadn’t worked. It had failed. 

“What…what can we do?” Feyre asked, her voice shaking. 

“We wait,” Madja answered calmly. “I gave her every potion I could…I healed as much as I could… If she pulls through the night…I would be cautiously optimistic,” she told Feyre, her voice gentle. “Infection has already set in. She’s feverish. Lady Nesta is with her.“

And Rhys didn’t doubt for one moment that Nesta would stay right at her side…she was stubborn like that. 

“Is she…is she in pain?” Feyre asked, her hands tightening on Nyx, who was sucking on his thumb. 

Madja hummed softly. “She will be for days, High Lady,” she told Feyre, not unkindly. 

*Rhys…Could you…Please, I don’t want her to be in pain. Even if she doesn’t…even if she dies, Eira shouldn’t be in pain.* 

No, she shouldn’t be. 

*Of course, Feyre Darling,* he agreed quietly. As much pain as he could take from her, he would. 

“Mor?” he said aloud, and his cousin looked up, unfurling from her little ball. 

“I’ll deal with the fallout,“ she said, her voice only shaking around the edges. “Amren and I will manage." 

“She should be back soon,” he said aloud.  *She’s dealing with…the carnage,* he said into Mor’s mind and his cousin just nodded. It was better that…most people didn’t know what had happened...they didn't need to deal with the bodies…especially when they themselves didn’t even know how it had happened yet. 

Instead, he pressed another kiss to Nyx’s head and then, even when he didn’t want to leave him…he walked up the stairs to Eira’s bedroom. 

She had taken over a room on the third level of the house…away from both the master bedroom and also the room Elain had chosen, overlooking the garden. 

Eira’s room overlooked the River. It wasn’t the biggest bedroom either, with sloped ceilings that made it look smaller than it was…and the usual furniture that Feyre had picked for every room in the house. 

He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but maybe he had expected the room to have gotten a little bit more personality in the over 2 years that Eira now lived there. Something. Anything. 

The only thing that made it obvious that it was her room, was a box of thread spilling over her desk. 

Eira was on her bed and Nesta was sitting at her side, glaring at him as he opened the door. “Out!” Nesta snapped. “I do not want you to see her like that.” 

“See her like what?” Rhys asked, eyebrows climbing into his hairline. Half dead? Her skin was still grey, breath raspy…as he stepped closer to the bed, he could see the sweat beading at her hairline…

Nesta glared at him as she tugged a sheet around her, covering her.  

“In a state of undress,” she told him sharply. 

He blinked twice. 

He really couldn’t care less about it. Besides, she was still wearing a dress, even when Madja had cut it open to make it easier for her to reach the wound on her ribcage. And he had seen her in less…when she had been thrown into that cauldron and spat out again, the white cotton of her nightgown had become translucent. 

He hadn’t cared, because the only female he even wanted to look at anymore was Feyre, and her sisters were his now…

“I really don’t care about that,” he assured Nesta, who just glared at him. 

“She would,” Nesta spat out. “Eira would care, Rhysand.  She saved your son at the expense of her own life. The least you could give her is some fucking respect and her modesty.”

Right. 

“Is there ever going to come a day where you don’t expect the worst of me?” he asked with a sigh, moving to her desk to pick up the chair and bring it over to her side. 

He watched with surprise as shadows started to cover her body…becoming nearly solid in places, obscuring her torso from view, only leaving out her face and her limbs. 

Nesta stared at them for a moment but then seemed to think that they couldn’t possibly make it any worse. 

“Why are you here?” Nesta demanded from him. 

“I am a daemati,” he gave back drily as he sat down in the chair, mustering Eira’s prone form. Fine-boned, pale skin with a smattering of freckles just like Feyre. Not fragile, but…delicate.

“You are not poking around in her head,” Nesta seethed. 

“Even if it would take away her pain?” he offered lightly. Nesta harrumphed.  

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

 Rhys took that as the only agreement he was going to get.

He reached out with his mind, expecting to carefully brush up against Eira’s mental shields…It seemed to be the only magical thing that she had easily caught on to. 

He had always left her mind alone, no reason why he should delve any deeper than surface sweeps he did on instincts…not when Eira’s mind had always been…soft in a sense. More worried about how other people felt than herself…

Now…unconscious. Ravaged by fever…there were no shields. Her mind bloomed under his touch, suddenly, harshly... She dragged him inside and he tumbled right into her memories. 

One quick snapshot after another. So quickly…too quickly. 

***

Wooden Ruler to her knuckles. Pain biting. Hard. Crying. Do not lie to me. 

She hadn’t lied. She hadn’t. The letters had truly changed places in front of her. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t…

***

A hand grasping underneath her chin, so tightly that it hurt. Steel grey eyes. Her eyes. She inherited them. 

Your resemblance to a mole rat is rather unfortunate. But don’t worry. I am sure you’ll make a proper wife someday. To a farmer maybe. 

That was alright. She could be a wife. She wanted to be a wife. Even to a farmer…she…She wanted to be a wife. She wanted to have children…a baby…

***

Molten ore being poured into her veins. Humanity burned away. Fury. So much fury poured over her body. Your sister stole from me… And she paid the price. In blood and pain and drowning. 

Heat and Cold and burning alive and freezing…

She hit the floor, her whole body not her own…not anymore. 

Not her body. Never her body. Never again. 

***

Again. And Again. And Again. 

Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth…

A quiet moan as she pulled at her ears, too long, too pointy, not hers, not hers, she never wanted these, but they were there sprouting from her head and they heard too much and she saw too much and she…

Back and Forth and Back and Forth…Iron taste in her mouth, too sharp teeth biting into her lip. 

She didn’t care. 

Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth and maybe she would fall asleep and she wouldn’t hear heartbeats and she wouldn’t hear voices and she wouldn’t be heard, sat in that closet, in that tight and dark little place, because everything else felt too much. 

Back and Forth and Back and Forth and Back and Forth…

***

Peace. For the first time…in a long time. Peace. Just her hands, stitching on that button, one after another…the notes building in her throat. A children’s lullaby. Feyre had loved it. 

Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.

Said the scary one. 

The words stuck in her throat. 

She didn’t do it again. Not where anybody could hear it. 

She should make no noises. She wasn’t allowed to make any noises. Not allowed to take up any space. 

***

Screams muffled by pillows, shaking and crying and weeping and she didn’t know how she could stand it…Griefing and crying and she wanted to shout and scream and she couldn’t…she couldn’t…she couldn’t…

***

She was a failure. She always was a failure. Never enough. It didn’t matter what she did. She was dumb, she was stupid, she wasn’t good enough. 

As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.

So pretty. So beautiful…so blonde, with golden hair. So powerful. Everything she wasn’t. 

Everything she shouldn’t be.

Laughter. 

It was the truth. She was useless. 

She couldn’t do what came so easily to everybody else. No winnowing. No anything. Not good enough. Regardless of how hard she tried. 

***

Please. Please. Please. Just once…Just one time…

Garden. Wrought Iron table and chairs…broad wings sunning in the sun…a quiet conversation…a male’s laugh. So beautiful…so handsome…so kind. 

Her sister turned…he smiled. 

So beautiful.  So handsome. So kind. Hazel green eyes…dark curly hair. 

She wanted him. 

But he didn’t want her. 

So in love. With Elain. 

Not with her. Never with her. Never would be. 

Nobody would ever want her. He wouldn’t ever want her. 

***

Her sister. Her sister. Regardless of anything. 

Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.

She wouldn’t. Her tears didn’t matter. To anybody. She would deal with them herself. It was her own fault. She didn’t listen. 

She couldn’t listen. Her sister. Her sister. 

Her fault. 

She should know better. 

***

Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?

Silver embroidery floss, red silk. 

Black thread. 

Little hands painstakingly stitching, only for the dress to be just as painstakingly wrapped up and put in the chest at the bottom of her bed, never to be seen again. It was better that way. 

Never would be worn by a bride on her wedding day…or a Valkyrie on the day of her mating ceremony. 

Ugly Dresses. Not pretty enough. Not good enough. Never good enough. Not for Nesta. Not for anybody. 

***

Her own fault. Shouldn’t eavesdrop. They never heard anything good about themselves. 

We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.

Nobody needed her. Better if she didn’t bother anybody. Elain was prettier. Always was. Always would be. She was the ugly one. She wasn’t needed. She was worth nothing. 

***

Delicate tea. Ginger Cookies. Her sister’s favourite. Sun outside in the garden, dancing on the wooden floor…

Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do. 

Of course. She was a bother. She shouldn’t. She should know better. Others were more important. Shouldn’t bother. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. 

***

Quiet. Don’t bother anybody. Make yourself useful. 

Nyx. 

So beautiful. 

Just like Feyre. 

Sing. Softly. So nobody could hear. 

So nobody… just Nyx. Hers and not hers. Feyre’s. 

Envy. So much envy, because she wished she had what her sister had. She wished she had a husband and a baby and somebody that loved her. 

Somebody who didn’t hate her. But she didn’t. 

So she sang. Another human lullaby for the future High Lord. 

Again and Again and again and her broken heart broke even more. 

***

Blue velvet box. Winter solstice. 

Pearl Earrings. Beautiful. So beautiful. 

But for her…for her useless. Her ears weren’t pierced. 

He hadn’t even noticed that. It hurt worse than even his smiles at her sister. 

He had brought her a gift…but it wasn’t a gift that she could use, no gift that…no gift that was special to her…no thought behind it… just an item on a list to be checked off. 

Something for Eira. Beautiful and Impersonal and…

No attention paid to her. 

She didn’t deserve his attention. Never. 

But she wanted it. Just once…

Please, Please, Please, Please…

***

She wanted to help. She always wanted to help. 

At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!

Her sister. Her sister. Her sister. 

She wished to cease existing. She didn’t care anymore. 

She could disappear and she would do them all a favour. 

Especially him. 

***

Fledgeling happiness shattered like a glass bottle on a stone floor. 

Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.

Her feelings. An inconvenience. Should get over them. Now. Before they make trouble. 

Even when she never told anybody. Kept that secret close to her heart….

Of course. She would never tell him. 

She would never say a word. She would close her eyes and wish herself far, far away. 

Better that way. 

Wasn’t good enough. Useless. Stupid to think that she had a chance. She didn’t. Ugly. Not Enough. Worthless. Do not take up space. Melt into the background. Cease to exist. 

***

Rhys snapped himself from her brain, and then promptly wretched, vomiting onto the floor. 

[anastasiabowe]

Heyyy

Do you think you could write something inspired by B.A.S. from Megan's new album with Toji? I was just reading the lyrics, especially the guy part, and was thinking this was perfect for Toji. If not, that's totally fine.

BIG BUTT NEED YOU TO CURVE IT!

♡ Backshots with Toji ♡

note: in Megan we trust🫡

content warnings: Backshots, piv, cursing, unprotected sex.

"Arch that shit." He pressed on your back as you gripped the messy bedsheets for dear life. He only pressed you further into the mattress. You squealed and tried pulling yourself up off the mean arch but that only caused him to let out a bark of laughter.

"Aw doll, don't run from it," He smiled, as he leaned himself over you, grabbing your hands and putting them behind your back as he hit it harder from the back. "You know you like it."

What once was supposed to be a relaxing night with you and your boyfriend, a night full of rest and bonding, turned into the nastiest fuck of your life all because you chose to where that tiny tank top with no bra. You should have known, he's a sucker for titties, but he's even more of a sucker for your little ass you like to flaunt for him when you also wore those tiny shorts.

"B-b-babyyy!" You squealed as you kicked your feet in between his legs as he chuckled. God, all he did was laugh when you tried to handle the intensity and stimulation of his thrusts. All that's going through his mind is your ass, tears, and arch. He kneeled straighter as he adjusted his hold on your wrists so he could use one hand, as the other grabbed your hair. You were a mess, a cute, pretty, mess. He could only smile as he saw your once clean and dainty makeup a ruined mess. Lip gloss far from your lips, mascara smudged just below your eyes. Your tears washed away that cute blush he liked, and all that remained were your furrowed eyebrows which you only brushed to look even.

"You're such a pretty girl, baby, so, so pretty." His tone sounded mean and mocking, but he meant every word. You were so pretty like this, all weepy and dumb on his cock. You pushed out your bottom lip in a pout as you closed your eyes. His pace never lent up, and that fucking arch was killing you, but it felt so good. He was so fucking deep. He kissed your pretty swollen lips as he continued to provide you with sharp, hard thrusts.

He finally let you lay back down, and released your wrists so his large hands could grip the fat of your ass as he stared at it. It was so squishy, so yummy to look at. He just wanted to bite it. He continued to smack, squish, and spread you ass. He marveled at how it returned to its original shape when he took his hands off for a second.

"This cute fuckin' ass does wonders to me, you don't even know." He quietly said. He was so lost in your current form. Not just your ass, but everything about you. Your moans, the noises you made, your pussy made. The way your hair looked, the way your face was, and your pretty eyes. Your parted lips, and cute nose. No matter how much you hated any of your features, he loved them so much. He loved your body, your arch. He loved your pretty painted toes and hands. God those toes and hands that brought him so many orgasms.

He felt his pace stutter. Fuck. He can't cum before you, he just can't. He snaked his long slender fingers to your count, and pressed on your nub, causing you to spasms and let out another squeal.

"Too muc- T-Toji too much!" You tried to push him away, hand to his stomach, but you were too weak. He continued his ministrations, talking you through it.

"Cum for me, baby, come for me."

"It'll feel so good baby, so, so, good.

"Make me happy baby, that's it, just let go."

"good fuckin' girl, makin' me so proud."

"Cum for me, baby, come for me."

"Make me happy baby, that's it, just let go."

"It'll feel so good baby, so, so, good.'

"good fuckin' girl, makin' me so proud."

Every word of encouragement, the names he called you did wonders for your body. You soon let out a mewl and came hard on his cock. He smiled and soon pinched his thick black brows together and let out a groan and...whimper? He whimpered as he came inside you, laying on top of you to kiss your tear stained cheek. God he loved you, he loved you so fucking much.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." He said in your ear as you both caught your breath. He turned you both over so you could both lay with each other for a tiny bit, him inside, before he'd give you the best aftercare like he always did.

♡

[liorae]

Midnight Snacks ୨୧ 𝓟ark 𝓙ongseong

pair: chef!jay x fem!reader | genre: fluff, established relationship | warning(s): none | wc: 757 | synopsis: you and your boyfriend crave a midnight snack

The city lights cast a soft glow over your small, shared apartment, their gentle luminance creeping in through the gaps in the curtains. It’s around 2 AM when you wake up to the sound of your stomach growling. Beside you, Jay stirs, his eyes fluttering open as he feels you shift in bed.

"Can't sleep?" Jay murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hungry," you whisper back, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Midnight snack?"

Jay chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Lead the way."

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to disturb the peaceful night. The cool floor greets your bare feet as you tiptoe to the kitchen. The city outside is quiet, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a tranquil stillness. You pause to take it in, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. The faint hum of distant traffic and the occasional flicker of headlights create a serene backdrop.

In the kitchen, you rummage through the fridge and cupboards, pulling out ingredients to make something delicious. Jay finds a carton of eggs, some leftover vegetables, and a loaf of bread. You grab a block of cheese and some fresh herbs from the windowsill planter. The kitchen is small but cozy, with warm wooden cabinets and a mosaic-tiled backsplash that catches the light in a comforting way.

"How about omelettes?" Jay suggests, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Perfect," you agree, tying your hair back and rolling up your sleeves. You move around each other with practiced ease, the small space making your movements feel intimate and synchronized. The scent of fresh herbs and sautéing vegetables fills the air, mingling with the comforting smell of home.

Jay turns on the radio, searching for the right station. A soft, romantic tune fills the air, adding a magical atmosphere to your midnight adventure. The melody is gentle, the kind that makes you want to close your eyes and just sway. As you cook, you exchange playful banter and laughter, the quiet kitchen coming alive with your energy.

"Here, taste this," Jay says, holding out a spoonful of the vegetable mixture for you. You lean in, taking a bite and grinning at the burst of flavor.

"Delicious," you reply, grabbing a piece of cheese and offering it to Jay. He takes it with a mischievous smile, your fingers brushing briefly. His touch is warm, sending a small thrill up your spine.

With the omelettes nearly done, Jay reaches for your hand and pulls you into a slow dance. The soft music envelops you, and you sway together, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. You rest your head on Jay's shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. The room seems to shrink around you, the outside world fading away as you lose yourselves in the moment.

"You know," Jay whispers, his breath warm against your ear, "these are the moments I cherish the most."

You look up at him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. His gaze is tender, filled with a love that makes your heart swell. "Me too," you reply softly, your voice filled with emotion.

You dance for a while longer, savoring the closeness and the simplicity of the moment. When the omelettes are ready, you plate them up and carry them to the kitchen window. The cityscape stretches out before you, a tapestry of lights and shadows, the high-rise buildings standing like silent guardians over the sleeping city.

You sit together, sharing the food and exchanging stories about your day. Each bite is a testament to your love and the joy you find in each other's company. The omelettes are fluffy and savory, perfectly complemented by the herbs and cheese. The midnight snack turns into a quiet celebration of your bond, a moment of pure connection in the stillness of the night.

Once you’re finished, you clean up the kitchen together, your movements synchronized in a comfortable rhythm. You tiptoe back to bed, snuggling close under the covers. The radio continues to play softly in the background, its gentle melodies lulling you to sleep. The sheets are cool and crisp, a comforting cocoon that wraps around you as you relax into Jay's embrace.

As you drift off, you feel a deep sense of contentment. The city lights continue to cast their soft glow, and the peaceful night wraps around you like a warm embrace. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, your heart full, knowing you have created a memory to cherish forever.