┌ I tried to save myself, but myself keeps slipping away. ┘ Restauranteur. Dark. Dom. I’d like to find others to write with. OC | Mature Themes | 21+ RT?

Can't beat it !!!!! 🔥🔥

#ReadThis

I don’t have the motivation to write tonight. I’ll be fucking off in DMs if anyone wants to plot or bullshit.

It’ll be a long night. I can already feel it.

#NewProfilePic

Getting back into the swing of things and I’d love to find someone to write with. [AU | 21+] @PimpinNinaW

Getting back into the swing of things and I’d love to find someone to write with. [AU | 21+] @Pimps4U

[Blows the dust and cobwebs away.] There. That’s better.

— into an exhausted sleep, body and mind both in need of a reprieve no matter how much I appreciate the circumstances of my existence.]

— I’ve refused. Something about getting up like the rest of world and earning my keep is humbling. The shop gives me a way to keep my hands busy doing something that I love. There are worse fates than mine. That thought is the last to run through my mind before I slip —

— our tribe is told through my direct lineage. My best friend is a vampire. But I still have to pay the bills like a regular human. The Cullens, mostly @InsideHisVolvo, have offered to help me establish a source of income that’s more hands off and more under the table. But —

— mattress with a muted thud. I’ll be lucky to squeeze in three hours of sleep. A rumble of disproval emanates from underneath the blanket I’ve lazily pulled over my nude form. Isn’t it ironic? I can turn into a wolf at will. I’m the Alpha of our pack. The very history of —

— my way through the small house towards the room at the back that’s mine. Even though I’m the only one living here now, I still consider the small room of my childhood my own. Flipping the knot of the towel as I walk through the doorway, my oversized frame falls against the —

— few hours to open the shop up. The prospect of being awake on so little sleep seems more manageable knowing that the coffee maker will be brewing me a cup as I’m waking up. Once the coffee pot is set up and programmed to start around the time I’ll be awake, I weave —

— warmth in favor of the kitchen. Dishes from last nights dinner still linger in the sink. Due to my heightened sense of smell, there’s a hint of steak and cilantro lime rice still in the air. Ignoring it, I make a beeline for the coffee pot. I’ll have to be awake in just a —

— sore in its own way. Going from man to beast and back again isn’t an easy feat. If I linger much longer in the bathroom, the steam obscuring the mirror will fade and the chill of the fall air will seep in. Knotting the towel tightly around my waist, I leave the embrace of —

— energy of doing something against the laws of nature clings to every fiber of my being. The heat of the water feeds into that feeling while simultaneously giving relief from it. Each jolt of near scalding water washes away the dirt of the forest and soothes my body that is —

[Droplets of water cling to my ebony locks while the steam clouds up the mirror. You’d think with a body temperature of one hundred and eight that I’d want a cold shower for the contrast. You couldn’t be more wrong. After shifting, the feel of my skin is so electric. The —

It’s too early.