#Recent Cricket Matches

[eufezco]

THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.

[sportsnewsblogging]

Recent Match Report - Sri Lanka vs India 2nd ODI 2022/23

Recent Match Report – Sri Lanka vs India 2nd ODI 2022/23

Sri Lanka chose to bat in the second ODI, at Eden Gardens. Captain Dasun Shanaka said he expected the pitch to be good for batting, on top of which the ground favours teams setting scores. Sri Lanka must win this match to stay in the series. Rohit Sharma, however, said he “was in two minds” because although India won batting first in the last match, he felt this surface could favour the…

[biolumien]

but thankfully, the wind...

notes: do not ask me how much research i did for this. the answer is that while wikipedia is a helpful source, i wonder if i am missing out on the real info, trenches deep in a 39 page article about fertility and marriage in the heian period...

also this will be multichapter. peace and love on planet earth!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader reader throws hands. this is an arranged marriage fic word count: 1364

there was never any room for love in your life. you knew that much. your eventual arranged marriage—because it was never a choice, really, it was an inevitability—would always be for political reasons. 

your family wasn’t a particularly powerful one—you were the daughter of a dying clan with no male heir, so your father was desperate to find you a good match. to sell you off to the most desperate buyer, you’d say archly, glaring at him. at night, while you listened to the chirping of summer cicadas turn to fall crickets and then to the dull silence of winter, you wished that your father’s search for an appropriate marriage candidate would fail, that the matchmaker would find no one. 

eventually, however, your family would receive a marriage offer from the hoshina clan. 

the hoshina clan was a name that held great prestige—its sons were known for their swordsmanship, for a lineage of honorable and noble samurai. but recently, the name seemed to take on a more negative light—rumors of the eldest son, soichiro hoshina, running off to become a lawless ronin and forcing the second son, soshiro hoshina, to take on the mantle of heir. 

you’d watched as your father celebrated his good luck—his good luck at finding you a partner. the blight on the hoshina name aside, the prestige of a family of well-known and reputable samurai could be enough to pull your family out of its dying state. 

but your life, as far as you were concerned, was basically over. 

you wanted nothing to do with the prestige of anything. what did it matter, that the hoshina clan was of great renown? of course, you knew that you’d never marry for love—but even a caged bird dreams of the opportunity of getting to fly on its own, surely. you dreamed of a possibility of marrying for love—that you’d meet some nice man that would whisk you away to the countryside, where you could live out the rest of your life.

but you’d be forced to abandon that dream now. 

and so, while your family and the hoshina clan arranged meetings through the matchmaker, you mourned the end of your life. 

but for better or for worse, soshiro hoshina… was an interesting man. 

he was very quiet, or that’s what you thought for the most part, at least. he spoke softly, sharply towards his father, but would smile cautiously towards you—but in a way where you could tell it was a clear mask, all a part of the facade of the good son, the soon-to-be-wed husband following tradition. 

his hair was just long enough to be tied back into a small bun, and the kimono he wore was a stark black with the faintest hint of violet–the kind of dye saved only for royalty, the high nobility. his hakama was that same shade of violet,  a clear sign of wealth, in any case. 

when he deigned to look at you, you found his eyes were a bright scarlet. 

the first two meetings of your omiai were nothing much of note. soshiro was simply calm, watching you. even when you were given time alone with him, he never made any attempt to touch you, nor to speak. the first time he’d done it, you’d tried to fill the air with words, only for him to just watch you. your face flushed from embarrassment and something like anger, and you’d lifted up your sleeve to hide the wave of emotions crossing your face. 

you’d never asked to be married to this man. so why wouldn’t he speak to you? why did he have to look at you like he pitied you and was upset at this whole fraught affair?

the third meeting was always the one of most importance. it was an implicit agreement to marriage—and despite knowing there was no way your father would have let you say no to the third meeting, you faced it with a sort of irrational upset. it was like standing in front of a precipice that you couldn’t back away from—acknowledging the cliff but still being forced down it. 

this time, soshiro stood in front of you, his father absent. two katanas were sheathed at his side, their handles interwoven with fine black and golden cord. 

“my father suggested that the two of us take our time to be alone today,” soshiro says, looking at your father first, before turning to you. “shall we, then?”

“as if i could say no,” you say, your voice gentle and lilting. you remember your lessons—when you got married, you would be forced to hide your horns, so to speak—your shame and your anger, jealousy and desperation. the feelings that were utterly unbecoming for you—or so your father and mother would say. 

you guide soshiro through the halls of your home, guiding him towards the room your father had set aside for the omiai—it was beautiful, ornate, delicately furnished, of course, with a balcony leading out to a beautiful garden. 

as you folded your legs to sit down, soshiro remained standing.  

“i suppose it might shock you,” soshiro says. soshiro’s voice was soft. gentle. “the marriage offer, and the suddenness of it.” 

his eyes flit to the beautiful garden outside. you know the truth of it—it’s beautiful, but it’s a gilded thing, hiding the rot and abandonment underneath. your family’s legacy in a nutshell, you think bitterly. a collection of power plays and alliances in a desperate attempt to curry favor, to maintain the idea that there was still something good here. as if any of this was worth saving. 

“it doesn’t shock me at all,” you say, trying to keep the bitterness from rising in your voice. “we all have roles we must play. and mine was always destined to be this.” 

“i never wanted to be married,” soshiro says. “the role of a faithful husband and proper heir was always more emphasized for my brother.” 

you laugh archly, delicately, raising yourself to your feet. 

from within a pocket in your kimono’s sleeve, you unsheath a beautiful and ornate knife. the gift had been from the hoshina clan—when your father had opened the gift, he’d sounded extremely honored to have received it— something about the knife representing the hoshina clan’s hopes that you would bear for them a son that might become a sword prodigy as well. 

as you raise the knife to soshiro’s throat, you simply smile. you think it might be an expression unbecoming of a woman of your station—the soon-to-be bride of a samurai. soshiro’s eyes simply watch yours. he doesn’t even shake, his hands not even moving to the katana sheathed at his side. somehow, that irritates you. does he think so little of you that he wouldn’t even raise his sword against you? 

“i truly do apologize,” you murmur, venom in your voice. “it must be such an inconvenience for you, huh? to be married to the daughter of a dying clan, as the second, disgraced and unwanted son.” you press the knife further—not enough to draw blood, but the threat of it, you hoped, conveyed enough. 

“i didn’t have a say in any of this, though,” you say. “when your family’s offer came, all i was told was how honored i should be that the hoshina clan picked me. that my family could’ve picked any other clan, a worse and older samurai that would’ve wanted me for different reasons.” 

soshiro’s gaze fixates on the dagger pointed at his neck, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

you drop the dagger on the ground.

the blade slices into the tatami mats, embedding itself there. 

“but of course. i will sympathize with you, for solidarity’s sake. we’re both doing things we’d rather not be doing.”

you walk past him, moving for the door. 

you raise your hand, touching the corner of the folding screen. you try not to think about how it would feel to punch a hole through it.

“i’ll see you for the betrothal ceremony,” you say. you turn to him, and you think you must be the picture-perfect appearance of a vengeful, resentful spirit. “but don’t you dare ever sympathize with me again.”

[vicsy]

Daniel Ricciardo and tennis – a masterpost (of sorts).

To start things off, here is a video of Daniel playing tennis that I think about way too often, especially lately, with the recent paddle mania that took over the paddock.

A few things I could note here, apart from the fact that Daniel himself said that if it wasn't racing, he'd go pro in tennis:

old school-ish (european) one handed backhand which is actually rather solid! Daniel said many times that he is a big fan of Federer (a true goat) and Daniel's technique here is pretty much imitating Roger's smooth and satisfying backhand strokes.

it is just a couple of hits but ball placement court wise in not bad - all past the half court mark, down the line, then cross court and close to the baseline.

his movement on the court itself comes off a bit wonky in comparison to regular players but I do like how he attacks the short ball (even if he swings a bit too wide but it still works).

Some assortment of interesting facts:

Apart from his love for Roger Federer, Daniel was a big Andre Agassi fan.

In 2021 Daniel and Lando stayed up to watch British teenage tennis player Emma Raducanu (who is an avid F1 fan and her fave driver is Daniel) win the US Open, her maiden grand slam tournament. This was right before the win in Monza and McLaren 1-2.

In 2020, Daniel took inspiration for his "Equality" face mask from the four time grand slam winner Naomi Osaka and called her a "strong voice" (which she rightfully was). Lewis Hamilton also considered Naomi a great inspiration in raising awareness of several social issues.

When Daniel was a kid, he would smash his racquet if he lost (that's so real of him and i do that too):

Ricciardo is widely regarded as motorsport’s nice guy. But when does the mongrel come out? "I’m a born competitor. As a kid I was a sore loser. If it was a tennis match, I’d smash a racquet or something," he said, laughing. (source)

Once Daniel was playing with his cousin and apparent he got a little outplayed, so in retaliation Daniel hit his cousin point blank with a tennis ball (which hurts A LOT). His cousin cried and then Daniel's dad gave him "a clip across the ear". Daniel also talks about it in one of the Grill the Grid videos. (big thanks to @go-daniel for finding the article and the video to back this story up!)

Daniel is childhood friends with Marcus Stoinis (an Aussie cricketer) and they grew up together playing tennis, driving to Dunsborough south of Perth and they would play tennis together for the whole day, practically hogging the court. (via this post)

Now, to the photos!

Carlos and Daniel playing a tennis match in 2013. Daniel won 6-3 2-6 7-6. It's from Daniel's old twitter post.

Daniel and Jannik Sinner in Piatti Tennis Center in 2020. Jannik is an Italian darling and current world number 3 on the steady rise to the top (i love my carrot boy so much).

Daniel on court.

Daniel attending semifinals of Wimbledon 2021.

Daniel with Juan Martín del Potro during Miami 2023 Grand Prix. Del Potro, now retired, was a prominent tennis player from Argentina, a "gentle giant" and he is also a fan of Fernando Alonso.

Daniel with Matteo Berrettini (and Francesco Carrozzini in the middle), Italian tennis player, current world number 142, during Met Gala 2023 (the way i yelled when this photo dropped omg).

It is all I have managed to gather for now but I will update if I stumble upon something new.

[lynn-tged-posting]

i was recently thinking about how whenever the hoyoverse devs have created characters that are intended as duos, their color palettes are inversions of each other

zhongli and childe, alhaitham and kaveh, etc. (there's probably more but i can't recall off the top of my head)

and it's a little design detail that i've always been enamored with because like. damn! even your colors are paired together! intertwined in a way that goes even beyond the already matching accessories and personalities and story! that shits beautiful!

anyway yes i was thinking about that

and like a slot machine slipping into a jackpot, a lightning bolt finding the weathervane, a lawnmower finally revving to life, it hits me.

what if i invert lloyd and javier's colors.

DO THEY MATCH?

i race through my photo gallery, and grab a screenshot that has the two of them together. i run it through a color inverter website. i click invert, and,,,

OOOOH MY GOD IT'S REAL THEY'RE MATCHING TRULY THE DUO OF ALL TIME LLOJAVI WIN LLOJAVI WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE ARE YOU SEEING THIS

its even their clothes, lloyd's clothes when inverted ends up being blue too

javier's ends up yellow, which at first is like "hm that doesn't show up on lloyd" until you look at his goofy ass when he's dressed formally THIS BITCH!!! FUCKED UP MOLE CRICKET AND CRACKED ASS KNIGHT!!! SHAKING THEM

THERE RIGHT THERE ITS RIGHT THERE THEY'RE INVERSIONS they make me CRAZY!!! CRAZY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i know odds are that it's not intentional - the colors match but theyre not quite exact - but i will always be under the copium that it was and that javier's bright minty blue ass (/aff) was intentionally that color because of the inversion

in conclusion, llojavi real. the duo ever. their colors match. end post

[thefirelookout]

Dead silence

This post is an attempt to share or let out some of my complex feelings about the situation in Bangladesh.

We went to our city's protest yesterday. It was a silent, peaceful protest. The Bangladeshi student community here in Kingston stood in a human chain with placards. "Save Bangladesh student", yes grammatically wrong, yes, it assumes that young revolutionaries need saving, so on and so forth. The protest started and ended quietly. My non-Bangladeshi friends were a bit confused, since they're used to chanty protests for Palestine, or union picket lines with cars passing by, honking in support. There was more noise even for the Iranian protests, Zan Zendegi Azadi. The silence of a graveyard in this one, though.

Who cares about little old Bangladesh? I sometimes wonder. We're not in the eye of the middle eastern storm like Syria, Lebanon or Palestine are. We're not strategically important, we don't even have many natural resources like Sudan or Congo do. The Prime Minister visited China recently to ask for an aid or a loan, and came back pretty much empty handed. China isn't very interested in us. India has gotten what it needed to get, and can milk more out of us, but they can do the same with Nepal or Bhutan too. We're never in the headlines, the US or the West in general isn't interested in us at all. And Pakistan denies that the 1971 genocide ever happened.

Which is why, the world isn't missing our voices due to the internet blackout.

The voices were all over my Facebook newsfeed. Aunties and apus on Facebook live selling sarees, jewelry, crafts, elderly boomers sharing gardening tips, quick fixes or herbal remedies that they swear by, people sharing posts about cricket or which cricketer's wife wore what, food bloggers calling every possible dish juicy (be it a burger or the meat in biriyani), celebrity drama, political drama to the extent of what was allowed back home. That sort of thing.

Now, again, there's the silence of a graveyard over here. And I feel like screaming till I snap my vocal cords. Can you all please come back? Please? The silence is unbearable! Please! I won't judge you if you sell your wares! Please! I won't judge if you think turmeric water can act as a miracle detox! Please, please I won't say a word if your post about your stupid cricket match! Just something, please say something! I haven't seen a single one of you online. Please don't die, please stay safe. When the internet comes back, please, post about your vacations and your pets. Not the dead, please, don't post about the bodies. I can take a bit of silence but not more bodies please!

Speaking of bodies. There was an armoured vehicle, painted navy blue in the colours of the police (fuck them). And there was a body on top of it. Dead, obviously, very dead, because it flopped down with the slightest nudge, and was left on the streets. Before that happened, the vehicle drove about as if parading its spoils of war, with the body on top. Sending a message. This will happen to you if you raise your voice.

That image has been haunting me for two nights now. So yeah, I'm not man enough to get some incisive political analysis out. I have no either or predictions for what happens if the regime falls or doesn't fall. My body feels numb, I've been binge eating because I still have food in the house and I won't be gunned down if I go out to get groceries now. My non-Bangladeshi friends, bless their first world hearts, have never had to live under fascism. Bless their hearts, have never had to stifle their voices to the extent that we've had to. Bless their beautiful hearts, could hardly pronounce Bangladesh. But they still showed up to that docile little protest because they care about my spouse and I. I can't even begin to thank them.

My insides are tearing up. I'm sitting with a poker face typing all this word vomit, but my insides are nothing but a scream. No clever realpolitik comes out of a heart that's screaming, because our mouths are sewn shut.

[sommerflue-22]

Cherish You Forever | Kyojuro Rengoku x f!Reader

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Content Warning: Mention of night terrors, Kyojuro survives but he retired yay, Kyojuro being a loving husband T^T

Word Count: 1.3k

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You awoke upon hearing a loud crash coming from outside your room and sat up immediately. The lamp was turned off and it was still dark outside. The sound of crickets signaled that it was still the middle of the night—or, at the very least, early morning before the sun rose.

You touched the space next to you to wake up your husband, fearing that it was a burglar. Your husband, however, was not in your shared futon. You instantly realized what had occurred: your husband was awake and probably made that sound.

You left your warm futon and made your way out to look for your husband, worried. You tried hard not to make any noise with your steps, worried of startling your husband. It was not difficult to find him because the kitchen door was wide open.

When you peeked inside, you saw your husband kneeling and scooping something up from the floor. His cane was resting against the counter.

"Kyojuro-sama?" You called out his name softly as you turned on the light switch.

Kyojuro glared over his shoulder, a dark circle beneath his eye apparent. He stopped picking up the shattered porcelain cup he had dropped on the floor.

You snatched a rag from the kitchen counter and crouched next to him, helping him in picking up the fragments of the cup.

"Another night terror, dear?" You asked calmly as you wrapped the pieces and tossed them into the trash bin. You took his hands in yours and lifted him up, gave him his walking stick. Kyojuro kept his gaze fixed on the ground and did not respond to the question you asked. "Why don't you wait in the dining room, hm? I'll make you a cup of tea, yeah?"

You let go of his hands and went to make the tea, filling one of the kettles and boiling it on the the stove. A strong arm wrapped around your shoulder as you switched on the the stove. Kyojuro sighed and leaned his chin against on top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out, "It was your favorite cup, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah but they still sell it in town. It doesn't matter, dear." You turned around, staring up at your beautiful husband.

Kyojuro kept his eye on you while his hand placed yours on his left cheek, near his eyepatch. Your lips tugged up in a small smile.

When you first met Kyojuro, you were curious about what had happened to his left eye. However, you did not dare to ask him about it. You had only recently met. You didn't want to be impolite, especially with your parents, his father, and Senjuro in the room. After all, you'd be marrying the man in a year. You had plenty of opportunity to get to know him.

Kyojuro only told you about his left eye incident on your first night as newlyweds. He let you open his yukata and his eyepatch. You uncovered what was beneath the patch after a year together. Deep scars sewn over his blind eye, as well as a massive scar on his abdomen. Kyojuro kept his gaze fixed on you as you stroked your gentle finger over his battle scars.

Then he told you about what happened while he was a Hashira. He was almost killed by an 'Upper Rank Demon,' but he was lucky since dawn was approaching and the demon fled. He had to go through numerous treatments to heal his wounds. Kyojuro's recovery was challenging, especially when he began having night terrors regarding his near-death experience. The ease with which the demon's hand pushed into his abdomen, the pain he felt when he was carried back in a stretcher, the moment he saw his late mother and realized he was about to join her in the afterlife. Kyojuro, who was half-blind and forced to walk with a walking stick, had no choice but to retire from the corps. That's when his father came up with the proposal of matching him with you, a daughter of an old acquaintance.

Nothing had ever prepared Kyojuro for the moment you told him he was strong and beautiful despite his wounds. He still got flustered now, even with the fact that you've been married for two years.

You caressed his cheek and drew him in closer, kissing the tip of his nose softly. Kyojuro's brow furrowed, and his nose pricked. You laughed and lightly slapped his chest.

"Go wait in the dining room, dear. I'll bring you tea."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The water was quickly brought to a boil. You put some tea leaves in a teapot and filled it with hot water. You carried the teapot and two cups to your dining room on a tray.

Kyojuro sat on the tatami floor, his legs hidden beneath the warm kotatsu table. He appeared to be feeling better, with a faint smile on his lips as he watched you sit down next to him and place the tray on the table.

"So," you started, "how are you feeling?"

"Much better, now you're here." Kyojuro answered. He got back to his usual cheerful tone, though not as loud. Understandable, since the two of you just woke up in the middle of the night.

You sighed and hugged his torso from the side. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Of course I didn't want to disturb you." Kyojuro kissed the top of your head. "Besides, this is something I've grown accustomed to."

"I know, but I still want to be there for you, I want to help you."

"(Y/N), dear, you're already helping me. I lost my career, I had no idea where to go, what to do. You gave me a reason to keep living."

You looked up to your husband, waiting if he wanted to continue talking.

"You were supportive when I said I wanted to study history, hoping that I can be a teacher someday. You always take care of me when I'm sick, or helping me when I'm struggling to do something... even if I say I can do it on my own. You befriend my ex colleagues. Tengen and his wives, Sanemi and Giyuu, even young Kamado. You were so patient whenever I had my night terrors, holding me in your arms until I calmed down. You do it every time, for two years until it got better lately. You've done a lot of things to help me already, (Y/N)."

You hummed, not really knowing how to respond to Kyojuro.

"I used to feel pathetic, defeated, useless. All because of these," Kyojuro waved his hand, motioning to his body, "But now I see it as a blessing. Because without these injuries, I wouldn't have marry you, the best partner I could ever asked for."

"Kyojuro... sama..."

"I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm going to cherish you forever, even in the afterlife, even in our next life." Kyojuro lifted up your chin and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

You slowly took off Kyojuro's eyepatch and kissed his left eye, before you kissed his nose again. He giggled and pecked your forehead.

"I don't know where you learn to speak like that." You covered your face out of embarrassment.

"Ah... Tengen, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," you patted his cheek and turned to the teapot. "Come on, let's drink our tea and get back to bed."

"I'm not sleepy yet, though."

"We can talk until we fall asleep."

Kyojuro grinned from ear to ear, "I would love that."

You poured the tea into each of your cups and the two of you drank in silence. It was comfortable, it felt right.

"Oh, by the way..."

Kyojuro turned to you and raised an eyebrow.

"I love you too, Kyojuro-sama. Always will."

────────────────────────────────────────── I wrote this at one am bcs i'm under the weather and i miss Kyojuro T^T

Thank you for reading! Find me on Ao3 and Twitter

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Sickfic

Words: 984 🥲

@wolfstarmicrofic

TW for non graphic mentions of vomiting and covid

***

The Marauders had booked a cottage by the sea for a fortnight. Lily and James hadn’t been away since their honeymoon and Pete needed a break after his recent breakup with Sybil. (She told him she didn’t see a future with him, it was brutal.)

The plan was for Remus and Sirius to drive down on Friday, do a big food shop, and wait for the others to show up on Monday. Sirius had been thanking whatever gods arranged cricket matches for Pete and James’ team having one organised for the Sunday afternoon.

Since Remus had moved into his own place the previous year, Sirius had realised a couple of things. The first being that he couldn’t cook, at all. Remus was by no means a chef, but he understood what flavours went together somehow and how to know when things were cooked. The second was that he was absolutely head over heels in love with his best friend and had been for a long time.

There had been a very confusing drunken conversation with James where he was baffled to learn that James didn’t also want to lick Remus’ neck every time he reached for a mug in the top cabinet. He had peer-reviewed this data by asking Pete, Gideon, Fabian, Dorcas, Marlene, Mary, Lily, and Benjy Fenwick the same thing. None of them saw ‘neck licking’ as a platonic activity and among them, only Benjy was also interested in licking Remus’ neck, which, honestly, only made Sirius want to invite him to hang out with them all less.

But he’d figured it out eventually and now he was excited for a weekend of domestic bliss with his Moony before the others arrived. Just like old times.

Things started to go wonky on the drive down. Remus had developed a splitting headache somewhere around Bristol and Sirius took over driving. By the time they reached Plymouth, Remus was asleep.

They hadn’t made it halfway across Cornwall before Remus declared that Sirius needed to pull over immediately. He flung himself from the car and almost instantly vomited into the hedge. After five minutes of Remus propping himself against the hedge while his body heaved, he stumbled back to the car. Sirius handed him a bottle of water, some mints, and a plastic bag.

“Just in case.” He said, giving Remus’ hand a squeeze. “Are you ok to keep going now, or do you want to find a cafe and take a break?”

“It’s less than half an hour now, might as well keep going,” Remus said, hoarsely.

“Alright, let me know if you change your mind. It’s not a big deal, even if we’re only five minutes away, ok?”

They made it to St Ives with only one further stop where Remus threw up the water. They checked into the cottage and Sirius got their bags in before going to park the car. When he got back, Remus was lying on the sofa under his coat. Sirius dragged him upstairs and got him settled in the master bedroom in a nest of pillows and blankets. Then he put the kettle on and made them both a cup of tea, knowing Remus would probably be asleep by the time it was drinking temperature. He went into the bathroom, sat down on the edge of the bath, and fired off a text to the group chat.

Pads

Moony is sick. He had a headache a few hours ago and he threw up and now he’s burning up and sleeping. Trying not to panic.

James

You’re just worried your Flat 6 throwback weekend might not happen lol

Pads

Fuck off

I’m genuinely worried about him

Pete

So, I also felt really ill today and I think I know what’s wrong with him

Lily

Fuck.

Are you ok Pete? Do you need anything?

James

No way 😭 oh shit is that why I’m so achy?

Lily

Fuuuuuuuuuck

Pads

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!

Ok, nobody panic.

James

You’re the only one panicking

Pads

Yeah well, I meant me.

Ok, cool, so we both have covid probably. How do I get a test? I don’t even have a mask to go and get one.

Lily

You know Remus will have packed masks just in case. He has an emergency supply of everything I swear.

Pads

Ooh, good call.

I don’t want to wake him up but I’m not going to go through his bags.

Dilemma!

Moony

I can hear you pacing in the bathroom

I have masks

backpack front pocket

Lily

Re!

Are you ok?

Moony

No

Goodnight

Sirius went back into the bedroom and found Remus sitting up against the pillows.

“I’m dizzy when I lie down. It’s like being drunk.”

“That’s the worst.” Sirius knelt down and found the masks in Remus’ backpack. “I’m gonna go to Boots, get some tests and some cold and flu stuff. Will you be ok for ten minutes?”

“I’m sick, not an infant.” Remus rolled his eyes. “Thanks, sweetheart, you’re the best.”

As Remus snuggled back under the duvet, Sirius let himself out and headed across the road to Boots, trying not to implode at being called sweetheart, willing his hands to stop shaking.

He woke Remus up to swab his nose twenty minutes later and within seconds of putting the liquid on the test, it was positive.

“You’ve got covid, moons,” Sirius said quietly.

“I think you mean we’ve got covid. Let’s be real.” Remus groaned, “I wanted to go to the beach.”

“We’re here for two weeks, we’ll be able to go to the beach at some point.” Sirius perched next to him on the bed and pushed his hair back off his clammy forehead. “This time next week, we’ll be fine.”

Remus scoffed, “Speak for yourself.”

“Nah you’ll be fine. You’ve got me to look after you.” Remus smiled up at him sleepily and Sirius’s stomach did a flip. Oh, this was bad.

[tiredly101]

New Neighbor part 8

Pairing: Wally Darling x Writer!Male reader

New Neighbor Masterlist

Illustrated Au, here's your human knocking out the eight part of this fic! Did not think it would get so much love or I would write so many part but here we are! Anyways, picture was made by @qep0ermint!

The dinner at Gepeto's was a success, Wally enjoyed seeing M/n enjoy himself and admittedly he got a tad jealous at M/n's close friendship with Gepeto but it didn't stop him from enjoying the simple and cozy dinner with him.

M/n carefully grabbed Wally's hand and guided him outside of the restaurant after Gepeto insisted that it was on the house.

"Gepeto and you are really close, huh?," Said Wally trying to sound indifferent but he was failing because M/n could see the light crease in his eyebrow and how he tighten his hold just a tad on his hand. M/n chuckles softly while squeezing Wally's hand back for reassurance.

"He is like a brother to me, the way we met was kinda comical, almost as if it was scripted," M/n said picking Wally's interest, he looked at M/n as a sign for him to carry on while he basked in how beautiful M/n looked under the moonlight.

"I was running around this town, script's and rough drafts for some novels in hand until I crashed into him making all the paper fly around the air. He helped me up and I realized how nervous he looked, I of course asked why and he just spilled everything from how he got divorced recently to how he couldn't afford to buy the restaurant you and I were in a minute ago," M/n said while, with his hand still holding Wally's, moving his hands in motions that represented some part fo the story. Wally blushed at how handsome M/n was, mostly with how the moon was making his eyes sparkle in a almost perfect way.

"What happened then?," Asked Wally curious now looking at the sky, it was beautiful the colors that were being mixed. He should paint it, he should paint M/n with the sky so he could call it his masterpiece.

"After a year of friendship was stablish I decided that it was time to make Gepeto's a reality and bought the restaurant for him with my savings! He cried and has never let me pay a meal since then, not even after I told him that it was fine if he didn't pay," M/n said now looking at Wally's eyes while smiling softly. The sight made Wally swallow harshly as he seemed to get lost in a trance, he could paint him and it will still not be a match to the actual god like beauty that M/n, his date, possessed.

"I did promise you a dance so, would you care for a dance my darling?," Asked M/n while his eyes flickered from Wally's to his lips and then back to his eyes. Wally blushed at the action and smiled while shyly nodding a yes, M/n started humming a song and the sound of M/n's voice mixing with the soft whistle of the wind and the crickets had become the perfect white noise for Wally if he tried to sleep. They swayed from one side to the other, occasional twists and dips happened and small laughs were shared between the two of them. It was a perfect moment.

Wally sighted happily while now cuddling next to M/n on the grass against a maple tree. M/n smiled and looked at Wally gaining his attention when he pushed a strand of his blue hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear, he blushed while M/n cupped his cheek with care which made Wally melt. Wally slowly started going closer to M/n and the opposite closed the gap between them with a soft kiss. When M/n pulled apart from Wally he had a brush and he kissed Wally once again which made Wally giggle against M/n's lips, they both were thinking the same thing when they looked at each other's eyes with dopey smiles.

"Best date ever..."

Do you guys want the aftermath of the date 👀? Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so I can tag you!

Tag list:

@farleyis @whynot5243 @fluffyart5000 @blueberricowboi @bonesbonesbonesuponbones @who-let-me-write-this @pr5is1ng @just-random-post @ghosteezofvispast @nettaw @sleepyscxry @theorchardcollective @thelostboys11 @darling-w @ametistacollinsworld @vampyrefay @cloudeecheer @lacunaanonymoused @waywardstardustcollector @welcome-home-puppets @redjeanjacket @fried-lotud @waywardstardustcollector @frindtheshapeshifter405 @lotusflowerexe @sleepyscxry @the-gayest-toad @mythjustiice @backyard-bear

[ratsoh-writes]

Ratsoh's weekly newsletter!

Characters in relationships:

Honey

Salt

Sparks

Mal

Cash

Pop

Rhythm

Pluto

Jupiter

Lilac

Coffee

Pretty much all the mafias except tempest

Moose

Peaches

Alden

Cricket

Compass

Pitch

Ram

Jasper

Artemis

Lush

Rust

Special exceptions

Red/oak: are soulbonded together but if someone’s brave enough to try and seduce both of them it could happen

Current kids in play:

Leo: lush and kei

Rosie Fran Bruno: rust and Ann

Theo Berlin: butch darlin snipe

Winnie: sugar

The quadruplets: kovu

Lacey: Marcelo and the harem lol

Swing: pop E

Akira: katana sparks

Ollie: Nicky honey salt

Current issues/drama

Recently butch has run into a skeleton monster who eerily reminds him of … well himself. He thinks he might have found another hidden child of roulette. Word has spread to the rest of the family now and don and madame are attempting to track the possible family down.

There’s been strange activity around the caverns of Ridgeside. Some claim to hear a strange humming some nights as well as the ground shaking! Some of the guard were previously sent to investigate and have discovered a secret MASSIVE nest of magical locusts. the outbreak has been contained, as the effect would have been devastating for farmers all over ebott if the nest had been allowed to grow and take flight. There are talks over what to do with the bugs now.

Two monsters and a mage were recently arrested for attempted robbery and murder. It was discovered they were part of a plot designed by another bitter drake monster to take out business rivals from her own au. The mastermind has since been apprehended although her identity is being kept secret from the public.

A publication by one of the royal scientists has monsters taking sides as it was discovered that monster lines who dont have human blood within a certain amount of generations magic will slowly dwindle causing the fertility problems that most aus struggle with. Racial tensions are high between monsters and humans as many deny the papers as a political move while others claim the papers invalidate the beliefs of the first.

charm has been practically in hiding these days as the recent papers published quoted his own studies from his scientist days several times. Thankfully he sugar and winnie were allowed to stay with lush and his family for the time being until all the attention on him dies down.

Positive news:

The venue for the freedom festival has taken tips from the previous golden festival and will once again take place in Portland to make it more hadal accessible. Due to some injuries last year, the official freedom matches will only allow professional dualists allowed. as this will shorten the matches by quite a lot, several different combat based competitions like wrestling, fencing, boxing and some agility courses will also be available to the public.

baby Lior, the child of the royals Asgore and Toriel will be making his first public appearance this freedom festival. security this year is said will be tighter than ever.

In light of the publications made about human and monster relationships, the royal Empress recently came out as having soulbonded to her human husband, ambassador Louis Du Hamel- now Louis Dreemur. It is the first recorded instance of a human being named a royal consort or taking on any sort of royl related role in history.

Baby ozzy is now a walking toddler! he's a bit clumsy but is loving the freedom of toddling around. adorable, simply adorable.

[blairaptor]

This year for my bestie @gadzooksgalore's birthday, I drew her sweet little rat girl OC Cricket! I've been enjoying the daffodils blooming recently, so I thought Cricket would be cute holding a fresh daffodil that matches her shirt. Happy Birthday!

[cricketnationrise]

hiii cricket been eating up your recent fics (and literally all the ones before that, too)

here’s a fic ask!!

8:30 pm, the brownstone

hen and alex

“and you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me, and at every table i’ll save you a seat, lover” 💕

rating: M or E

thanks sm cricket ❤️❤️❤️

oooh very nice prompt. i'll admit this could have gone in a few different directions and then i thought of the joke at the beginning and it, er, devolved from there. anyway its definitely E so enjoy! 💜🦗

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

8:30pm, the brownstone

“…then the donor said something about riding ‘requiring the right equipment,’” Henry giggles, warm from the bottle of wine they’re splitting.

“Oh my god,” Alex sniggers. 

“And it truly took every ounce of self control not to say ‘if homegrown isn’t available, store bought is just fine.’”

They both lose it completely as Henry chokes the words out. His cheeks hurt from grinning all evening, and now his stomach is cramping and he can barely breathe. Alex is clearly in the same boat if the tears in the corners of his eyes are any indication.

It’s a perfect evening. Alex got a fantastic mark on a paper and Henry submitted his manuscript ahead of the deadline. They don’t have anywhere to be until Monday and the reality of a free weekend, just the two of them, spools out tantalizingly in front of them. A flurry of exclamation marks and unhinged GIFs bounced between their phones all day as they planned this long-delayed night in. It’s everything Henry has been missing the past few weeks; their shared wine, dinner, and laughter a balm to his soul.

Alex gets a hold of himself first, barely.

“Holy shit, baby, that’s incredible,” he wheezes. “A dick joke slash sex toy meme spin, I’m so fucking proud.”

“You’re a demonic influence, of course you’re proud.”

“Hey, you were at least sixty percent of the way there before me, Mr. Oxford-Slut-Phase.”

“That’s Prince Oxford-Slut-Phase to you.”

“Of course, my mistake, Your Majesty.” Alex beams at him and Henry, as always, melts a little. He’s trying to convince his legs to maintain their structural integrity when Alex speaks again.

“We could mix and match tonight, if you wanted.” Henry tips his head to the side in confusion. The heat building in Alex’s gaze makes him want to be pinned to the couch cushions. Or do the pinning, he’s not feeling particularly picky about how he gets his hands on Alex this evening.

“We have both homegrown and store-bought equipment available,” Alex says pointedly. “Wanna use both in me tonight?”

A flash of heat runs down Henry’s spine. “Bedroom. Now.”

A mad dash up the stairs, a flurry of clothes tossed every which way, a reverent kiss to Alex’s wrists—just above the leather cuffs Henry buckled him into and attached to their headboard—and Henry is straddling Alex’s thighs.

“So gorgeous like this, love.”

“Henry, fuck just touch me, please.”

“Begging already? Interesting.”

Alex’s retort is cut off with a pleased gasp when Henry gets his mouth on Alex without so much as a warning. Henry practically worships Alex with his lips and tongue and—occasionally, delicately—teeth. He moves from Alex’s cock to his rim, before practically burying his face is Alex’s arse. It’s been so long since they’ve had time for more than hurried hand jobs in the shower and Henry has missed this. Missed how worked up Alex gets, how desperate he is when he’s not allowed to touch while Henry fucks him with his tongue.

Henry gets his fingers slicked up without moving his mouth, and then slips two into Alex alongside his tongue. Alex shouts when Henry crooks his fingers, begging a multitude of saints and Henry—always Henry—to make him come, to take pity, for more.

“How can I resist when you beg so nicely?” Henry says as he sits up, reaching for their favorite toy with the hand not knuckle-deep in Alex. They picked it out together, browsing the site Pez recommended to Henry back when they were still in uni. It’s a deep purple, about Henry’s size, but with a wicked curve that never fails to make a mess of them both. Alex whimpers when Henry adds a third finger and spreads them out, but he does his best to work his hips and take more and Henry knows he’s ready. He covers the dildo with lube and rests the head on Alex’s rim.

“Baby, c’mon, I need it,” Alex pants—and who is Henry to deny him anything? 

“Remember to breathe,” is all he says before pulling his fingers out and swiftly pushing the toy into Alex all the way to the hilt in one movement. Alex moans, low and long and the inevitable spike of pride that Henry is the one making Alex feel so good hits Henry like lightning. He fucks the toy in and out of Alex a few times—delighting in the sweat gathering at Alex’s temples and hairline—before thrusting it all the way and holding it there.

“You’re going to be good and keep this inside.”

It’s not a question, but Alex answers anyway. “Yeah, fuck, I want it—”

“Because if it slips out of you, I’ll stop.” Henry gives it a twist, so the curved end hits Alex’s prostate, with a devious smirk.

Alex makes a noise like he’s been punched in the stomach, but he nods, eyes wide. “I’ll be good, promise.”

“Excellent. Now open that pretty mouth for me.”

Alex does, gaze eager, as Henry shuffles up the bed and settles close, his cock brushing Alex’s bottom lip. Henry’s the one to groan this time as he pushes his cock into Alex’s mouth. He’s got one hand on the headboard and the other cradling the back of Alex’s head, threaded through his curls. He can’t look away from the sight of Alex’s lips stretching obscenely around him, from the flutter of Alex’s—

“Fucking eyelashes.”

Alex hums around him and Henry’s gone, tugging Alex off his cock by the hair so he can come across his mouth and neck, his release coating stubble and chain alike.

“H, Hen—can I—need to come.” Alex’s voice is utterly wrecked and if Henry hadn’t just come he would be now. 

“Just a moment.” Henry clambers off Alex, and stretches out at his side. He reaches a hand down and grasps the base of the dildo once again. “Alright,” he says, thrusting the toy, “Come for me.”

And Alex does.

[jujutsustraycats]

ISH DID YOU WATCH THE CRICKET MATCH

NOOOO BUT HOW DID IT GO (OR HOW IS IT GOING)

Haven't been able to watch the recent matches help 😭😭😭

[goroaix]

In the leftover image of you that I cannot erase, you are my vivid dream

Sohn Hyunwoo x fem reader

Lumberjack/historical sort of au

16k

Graphic depictions of injuries. Very slight hint of an ED/controlling parents. Also it's a little bit of traditional gender roles but nothing egregious, I promise.

『 To know that the generations before him had tilled these lands, planted each seed, tended to each crop - it was enough for Hyunwoo. The simple life of a lumberjack was all he needed to feel fulfilled. Yet, he, alone, could not eat every fruit from his ancestor's trees. 』

Today was a night like any other. The outside was quiet, only the sounds of crickets and nocturnal animals disturbing the tranquil blanket of the moon and stars. The air was still and Hyunwoo had tucked everything away in preparation for the morning - where he would spend a good majority of his day chopping up wood of trees that he had felled.

He had just managed to close his eyes, about to relax into the softness of his bed and newly bought pillow, when he heard something odd.

It was unlike anything else he had ever heard from the forest. It sounded like weeping, wailing of some sort that picked up and died down within seconds of the other. Normally, he would have thought of it as something that the wind carried as it blew through a hollow but it was too… alive for that.

Hyunwoo frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he got up on one elbow, scratching his ear with his free hand. For a moment, there was silence.

Then it started again and he thought to ignore it and continue with his plans for an early night - chopping wood did take lots of energy after all and he needed every last wink. Yet he He couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that it wasn’t something to let fade into the background. Hyunwoo wasn’t the kind of man to have things that irked him be left unattended.

So, with a half sigh and half grunt, he swung his legs out from his bed and sat up, his lips pursed before he pulled on his slippers and left his bedroom. This was where the sound became louder, no longer hindered by the wooden door and instead it wafted in through the slightly ajar windows, pausing again before picking up.

He wouldn’t say that he was someone that was easily spooked, and he wasn’t really scared but he did feel a little uneasy. This was worth investigating; he’d sleep well knowing it was nothing in the end.

Grabbing an oil lantern, he lit a match and turned it on, stepping out of the back door that was situated directly on a path to the forest. During the day it was beautiful, a vast expanse of greenery that spoke volumes on the wonder of nature and its intricacies. It stood tall against the azure of the sky, dwarfing his cottage that stood alone on the outskirts, and that difference was only more stark at night where the trees turned to gnarled limbs that swayed in tune with the wind, the shadows twisting into something more evil than delicate.

But Hyunwoo paid no mind to that. Honestly, it hardly bothered him anymore. Everything in the forest was easily recognised and he knew it inside out from his years of exploring both with his parents and unaccompanied.

Rubbing his eyes, he closed the door behind him and began making his way down the path, entering the forest’s domain. Here, the sound was the loudest and it seemed to echo around him, bouncing off the barks of various trees and travelling around him. The lamp’s light was bright, having recently been filled with more oil, and he was able to use it to efficiently navigate the darker routes.

With every step he took he got closer to the source and the sounds seemed more alive, like something was weeping from pain. A pang of concern rushed through him and he went closer, pushing throughthe bushes before he reached the area where it was coming from.

It was hard to see from this distance but it seemed to be something white that had curled up into a ball.

Hyunwoo held out the lamp, letting it illuminate the creature - only to have the shock of his life.

For it was no animal, but a human woman that was crying, her face hidden by her hands before she looked up upon the shine of his lamp, confusion clear in her eyes.

Oh. This was… definitely not normal.

"Are you okay?" He asked, not knowing what else to say in this situation. Animals were more his area of expertise. "Are you hurt?"

Her lips pursed and she looked down at her feet, the fabric of her rather intricate dress covering them up. Then, with great care and trembling hands, she moved the material to reveal the true cause of her pain.

A wolf trap.

"Oh no," he uttered to himself, eyebrows furrowed. Who had left this inhumane device behind? It certainly wasn't him! He never hunted the predator animals that passed by.

Blood seeped from the puncture marks, the sharp, metal teeth buried in the soft flesh of her ankle and rendering her immobile. Purple inflamed skin surrounded the broken tissue, bruising forming around the fresh wound and he spied the cuts on her crimson coated fingers - likely from trying to pry it open.

No wonder she was crying, he thought, these traps were made to capture large, wild animals. She would be lucky if she didn't have any sort of permanent scar.

"I'll get you out," he reassured, setting the lamp down and inspecting the trap. It was an older model that was triggered by the slightest touch, the spring recoil made to be harsh and powerful to stop the animal there and then. Such a thing would only spell disaster for a delicate human ankle. Had it been a bear trap then the only mode of removal would have been to sever her foot from her leg.

Hyunwoo kneeled beside her, mindful of the fact that she was likely scared and exhausted. His hands, while calloused and hardened from manual labour, were gentle as they touched swollen skin. It was tilted to the left to allow him a clearer view of the mechanism but she hissed in pain despite clearly trying her hardest to contain her exclamations. "Oh, I'm sorry," he mumbled, thumb rubbing the uninjured skin in apology.

The lamp was pulled closer, eyes narrowed to get a better view and he saw that there was a small button within. It had a faded symbol that had rusted over, making it illegible.

His left hand pushed into the small gap, fingers patting around the confined space to reach it when his index finger brushed over it. The placement was purposefully inconvenient, not intended to be undone by the animal or until the owner was sure that their kill had parted ways with this world. He wasn’t an advocate for these types of traps simply because of how inhumane they were, making the animal suffer until its last moments or it was desperate enough to bite off its own leg in order to escape.

He pursed his lips in concentration, pressing down harder on the button despite the awkward angle and the way the edge of the metal dug into his skin. Then, a few seconds later, it popped open and she sighed in relief. The damage was done and it was worse than he had initially thought, the teeth of it having torn almost all the way through the meat and into the muscle with blood dribbling from the now exposed wounds. Honestly, he wondered how she hadn’t passed out from shock.

“Thank you,” she murmured, voice shaking and thick with congestion. Hyunwoo simply nodded, trying to give her a comforting smile despite wondering what on earth he could do now. There was no feasible way for her to walk on that ankle and he would never leave anyone to die in the woods.

“Is it okay if I take you home? It’s down there, the cottage by the road.” He pointed in the general direction but it was dark and the only light was that of his lamp. This woman had no choice but to trust him and he wouldn’t dare to betray it.

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Lifting her wouldn’t be a problem for him; Hyunwoo would easily lift upwards of 200kg with the work he did. No, it was the fact that he had to be incredibly mindful of her ankle and any other injuries that she might have sustained.

“Please tell me if this is uncomfortable.” With his voice barely above a murmur, he reached around her back and under her knees, lifting her as though she were a doll. The lamp was cradled in her arms, held for them both and her leg dangled uselessly. “I’ll walk us back now.”

She nodded and said nothing else, body tense in his hold though he couldn’t blame her. It was with great care that he made his way to his cottage again, feeling guilt ebb through him when her leg grazed against his side and she tried her hardest to contain the gasps of agony.

It did confuse him in the moments that he could think about something other than this woman’s safety and injury, that someone wearing such expensive and silken clothing would be out in the middle of the forest. The fabric intertwined with his fingers was made with care and quality - the kind of thing that he would only buy after saving for years upon years.

But Hyunwoo had more important things to worry about than this, and he continued on the path home.

Read the rest on AO3

[the-busy-ghost]

Irregular bit of cricket-posting for the two and a half mutuals interested on this website, none of them likely to be online at the moment, and also on the offchance I convert a bored dash-scroller.

The first test match ever staged in Northern Ireland is being played at the moment. Northern Ireland is largely represented at a test level by an Cricket Ireland, so this is an all-Ireland team involving players from both the Republic and the North. They are currently playing Zimbabwe at Stormont in Belfast.

Although I have recently become a big TMS fan and therefore have England vs the West Indies blaring on the radio, I know that it's possible to follow the score on the BBC here. But if anyone knows any local radio that's covering it, would love to know.

[megumi-fm]

16th - 20th October || 86 to 90 days of 100 150dop

hi besties! it's been a while since i updated on here properly. there was kind of an infestation issue but now it's all flushed out and I'm back! i've decided to upgrade my days of productivity challenge to 150 total days because i have 40 days of uni remaining (as well as additional exam days) and I wanted to note all of them down and wrap it up in this challenge itself. I'm also gonna start adding memes and random non-productivity updates, just so I feel more motivated to actually post stuff, instead of procrastinating and clubbing too many days at once.

🎶: Hayloft II by Mother Mother 🔉: MAG053 The Crusader

💌: today I am grateful for music! i've been in a funk recently, but my playlists has really been helping me through it <3

my main focus for the past few days and especially today (20th Oct) has been to complete an assignment on 3D bioprinting and it's relevance in drug testing. I've done a lot of research and learnt a lot of interesting things, but my interest has also led me to getting too distracted and not actually wrapping up the project. I really hope I finish it by tonight, I like how it's looking so far.

i spent yesterday (19th Oct) with my cousins and my sister, I took them to this gaming arcade and babysat them for the day. they seemed to have a good time, I enjoyed a day out of the house as well. we spent so much time there, I managed to upgrade the game card to a gold tier :P we also had taco bell for lunch <3

the day before that (18th Oct) I spent a couple hours on my week3 neuroscience lectures. the concepts are comparatively challenging to understand, so i sat through them many times, I'm yet to make notes for them

on Tuesday (17th Oct) I had extra classes (booo it was the most boring time ever) and a dentist appointment after, so I couldn't really get much done. the dental clinic was just a kilometer or two away from home, so I just walked back, taking pictures of the greenery on the way

i didn't have uni on Monday (16th Oct) so I ended up waking up late but i did clean my room and chart out a work plan the weeks until this semester ends. I've been trying to follow it best I can but oh well, things keep popping up from time to time

in the midst of this I'm in the midst of massive nationwide cricket fever (the world cup is going on and we're doing really well! we've won every match we played so far!) It's also festival time here so I have holidays this week (we don't celebrate at home but my friends call me home and I get to partake with them so it's really nice). And this is coupled with my insane levels of consumption of The Magnus Archives Podcast 24/7 xD. Additionally, I have quite a chunk of AI-ML work to get done by this week (SGD and XBoost model development) and I don't know the first thing about it or where to even start so I'm kind of avoiding it for the moment. Hoping to start that once I'm done with this 3d bioprinting presentation. Fingers crossed!