#and then to top it off the company is in flames rn with the whole selen thing

[sandersinabox]

Another night to feel lonely

[andypantsx3]

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.

[ash-etherwood]

Top 5: writing memories, songs, characters that are not blank rune, runes, food

♡

Linda I love you but are you trying to kill me … that’s so many Top 5’s! But alright, I’ll do my best! (Answers will probably switch between German and English RIP to every non-German-speaker who follows me and wants to read this for some reason I swear I’m normal)

WRITING MEMORIES

5.) The entire time I spent finishing my first (second?) longer writing project It was the year 2012 and it was a cyberpunk story about my friends’ and my edgy self inserts riding dinosaurs, fighting aliens and being badass. The plot twist in the end was that my character was secretly evil and wanted to kill everyone. (Things to show your therapist) The final boss fight made zero sense and also everything was incredibly weird and stupid. But sometimes I still think about those times when I sat in my grandma’s living room at night, eating chips and listening to Vocaloid covers while thinking this story was the coolest shit ever. Truly simpler times.

4.) Researching something about universities in Texas for OvF on a rainy Saturday afternoon I have no idea why this memory is still sticking with me to this day (I think it was around 2016 or something?), but I remember that it was just a really nice day and I felt really at peace at that moment?

3.) The entire writing process of Bathroom Blues It was such a spontaneous project and I still have no idea how I managed to power though it in just a little under two months! Also it was just incredibly fun seeing you getting excited over new drafts and I loved coming up with new plot points and Halloween costumes for everyone with you. :-D Truly a summer worth remembering.

2.) FINALLY uploading the prologue and intro chapter of WWBL Not really a writing memory, but that moment was … so sexy and magical. Seriously, you have no idea how long I had been waiting to finally start that story, waiting for the Steckbriefe to roll in and see people react to the prologue and generally the idea … I even made one of those countdown graphic thingies for the designated upload date! 8D At that point I had planned that story for about six months and just … yeah, that felt powerful to me.

1.) Writing the prologue for WWBL When I first started the draft for that prologue I was sitting at the window in my favourite hotel in Winterberg, Sauerland, wore my dark green flannel, had the window wide open breathing in the cool mountain air and allowed myself to listen to my WWBL playlist for the very first time. God, that felt so amazing. I even have a photo of it (which somehow makes it look like I have the biggest football shoulders in the universe) my sister took that night. God I miss Sauerland. )’:

- - - - -

SONGS

My apologies to every favourite song of mine that I forgot about, I have a whole playlist of them, but I think these are some of my oldest faves … (Honorable mentions for Don’t Mess With Me and Not That Big by Temposhark, Goodbye by Apparat, Me And The Devil by Soap&Skin, Heart Heart Head by Meg Myers, Pain and Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace, Beautiful Crime by Tamer, Gravity Of Love by Enigma, In Flames by Digital Daggers [thanks Phi u_u] and Murder Cries by Snow Ghosts AHHH FUCK IT I could’ve just made a playlist,,,)

5.) Vater Unser by E Nomine Starting off with some weird shit, won’t we? I’ve been in love with this song since fifth or sixth grade, when I was just starting to develop an actual music taste and although I have many favourite songs by E Nomine, this one has to be my absolute fave. Every time I can relate it to a character it makes me love said character even more. (Also I think about it every time my mom forces me to go to church for Christmas so … yay? I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even be able to remember the Vater Unser if it wasn’t for this song. 8D)

4.) Wires by The Neighbourhood I think this is the newest all-time fave on this list, I found it in … 2015? Thank you, Youtube AMVs. Yeah man, this one is just … on so many playlists it’s not even funny anymore.

3.) Heathens by Twenty One Pilots An edgelord classic but like … it’s on EVERY playlist of mine. Every single one. It’s just so good. The first time I heard it was on the radio tho, when I was having breakfast with Jessie and I forced her to shazam it because it immediately stuck with me,,,

2.) Imaginary by Evanescence My first Evanescence song ever and the first step towards becoming who I am today I think. This song has like … such a big history for me, man. It single-handedly turned me goth in 2008 and I have never really thanked it for that.

1.) Eternal by Evanescence Might be my favourite song of all time. The number of dramatic RP scenes I have written with this in the background … man. Oh, also this song is the reason for one of my oldest internet nicknames, ‘eternala’, which subsequently shortened into Etschuh and then Tschuh, my main nickname until 2017, when I came out as trans and finally found an actual name for myself I was comfortable with!

- - - - -

NON BLANK RUNE CHARACTERS

I know this was probably supposed to be about fandom characters but I can literally not come up with a single character right now that I love with a special burning passion and that is not my or one of my friends’ OCs so you’re getting OCs now. u_u And boy do I have a lot of those.

5.) Jackson Tracey from atroCITY (mine) This little piece of shit kept me company for a pretty long time and is still very close to my heart for some reason, although I haven’t drawn him or really thought about him in detail for a while now. My favourite thing is how I only realized what a horrible person he was after I stopped regularly working with him but honestly good for me. 8D His storyline and personality is kinda convoluted and tbh I’m not really sure how much of it is canon anyway (atrc was always a little weird about canon rip) but yeah. He’s an obsessive stalker piece of shit who pities himself way too much and he is also a semi-immortal demigod who likes knives. I hate him but he also helped me a lot with some gender and sexuality stuff so thanks I guess.

4.) Mayoko Imai from Century Riders DXPrototype (Maus’ and mine) Mayoko is a magical girl protagonist with a cool cyborg arm prosthetic and her main character trait was that she was basically a reverse weeaboo, a Japanese girl who was obsessed with American media, culture and comic book heroes! I actually love her concept a lot and she also had a pretty cool character arc in her story (which Maus and I wrote together and actually finished btw!), although it could use a lot more … polishing from today’s point of view. But I love her anyway. She always wanted to do the right thing and be a hero and got broken pretty cruelly and her ending is kinda bittersweet I guess? Ahh there’s just so much nuance to it … anyways, CR3 also stuck with me for a very long time and I enjoyed the time with her a lot. :3 (Her name had a cameo in Another Incident btw heehee)

3.) Tessa *insert extremely long chain of unnecessary first names here* von Lean from Nobody Is Perfect and Infernal Temptation (belongs to one of my old school friends) Tessa is just … a hand full. I love to hate her. She is badly written and developed and just OOZES mentally ill teenage girl’s idealized self-insert power fantasy, but she just … man, she was a big part of one of my most drama-filled high school friendships which I love looking back at so much. Tessa has fucked so many of my characters … good for her tbh! There are actually two versions of her, one is just a ‘normal’ teenage girl and one can shapeshift into a cheetah, but both of them are very close to my heart. I should really adopt and redesign her some day.

2.) Judy Khayat from Original vs. Final (mine) Look, I love all my OvF-characters and every single one of them is special to me in their own way, but Judy is just … the most complex of them all I think? Man, she went through so much … she is actually one of my oldest (semi)-active characters (I created her in 2009) and her latest version is from 2016 but I should really, REALLY revise her again tbh. She has a very complicated backstory that I didn’t handle as carefully as I should have, and anger issues and religious conflict and depression and PTSD and then Vance of all people becomes obsessed with her for no reason and decides to traumatize her even more … yeah. God I really love her but I seriously need to work on her. A LOT. I should also finally rename her tbh … let’s just see where she takes me next.

1.) Okami (I don’t even remember if she has a proper last name rn lol) from Split Realm (mine) Yeah, that bitch is just my favourite OC. She’s also very old, probably from around 2009, and initially was a magical girl with fire powers who I played in an RP with my friend Flauch but boy did she grow up! Holy fuck. Okami is a horrible person but I love her so much. She is so violent and full of anger and pain and sadness and treats everyone around her like shit and she is in love and she is a demon but also apparently the personification of the concept of Chaos but she just wants to be a teenager again and run away with the love of her life and ahhh it’s all so hopeless for her … also she turned out gnc af with time passing and pretty much went through a gender/sexuality crisis in real time with me, her creator, which is always fun. :^D I haven’t drawn her in a while tbh. Should really do that.

- - - - -

RUNES IN BLANK RUNE

I’m just gonna go with the arcs here, okay? Also this entire answer might look completely different if you asked me again tomorrow, you know how indecisive I am with Blank Rune shit ahha,,,

5.) Jera Look. I know I’m boring and stupid. But I just love Tave and Liam having their disgusting little foreshadowing talk, okay? I can read it over and over. I just love my horrible little shit crime boys. Also Rhy and Phillip are there. (’:

4.) Isa This one is here because it was the first arc I witnessed in real time which gives it a very special place in my heart and it also … hit pretty hard at the time. But having read Fehu it’s become even better now! It’s just such a wonderful, tragic romance between two horrible, ruthless boys and I … I’m not immune to Rhy, sadly. :-/ Just like Phillip.

3.) Wunjo We still haven’t seen everything that leads up to Wunjo yet, but we DO know more than we did initially (wow shocker) and it’s just always a fucking blast. Also, it has the first mention of Ash’s real name … the first Rhy POV (which what the fuck!! I always feel like we had one before but we didn’t!! Wild) and it has crazy blood-soaked murder Tave, my beloved. :///3

2.) Eiwaz You guys have heard me fanboy about Eiwaz so many times already. Eiwaz-OT3 (and Kain) my beloved!!! It’s just SUCH an amazing starting point and there are so, so many things that tie back to it and every time we find out about a new one my heart makes a little jump … und es beginnt von Neuem indeed.

1.) Gebo One of the most painful but also the most beautiful arcs yet in my opinion. It’s been hyped up for so long and boy did it deliver. God, my heart still hurts when I think about that last scene. Also all the dialogue … the golden lines we got … and it’s an arc without Rhy! Crazy!! :-D I just love the relationship between Ash, Astrid and Jakob so much. God fuck I want what they have. Just maybe without the murder suicide,,,

- - - - -

FOOD

5.) Diese Sonntagsbrötchen wo die Verpackung so plopp macht, wenn man die Folie abzieht Better than normale Brötchen for some reason. Most of the time. See 2.) Look man, I just really love a good breakfast …

4.) Chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese topping One of the first things from a certain baking book I tried when I was getting into baking back in 2019. God they are so tasty. I don’t make them often so I don’t get used to them too much and eating them still feels special but ahhhh I love them so much!

3.) Grünkohl mit Kartoffelbrei und Mettendchen One of my favourite things about autumn/winter and one of my biggest comfort foods. God I love this shit so much. I just put … mountains of Grünkohl and Kartoffelbrei on my plate every time and I will just warm it up for four days straight until there’s no more left. It turns me into a fucking caveman. I’m not even big on eating meat but … yeah. Everything is different when there’s Grünkohl.

2.) Normales Brötchen mit Butter und Scheibenkäse aber ich bin beim Frühstücksbuffet im Hotel Oddly specific but that’s just how it is. Sorry. Nichts geht über Brötchen mit Käse.

1.) Chilli-Knoblauch-Nudelauflauf My beloved. My comfort food. I eat it literally every second day. At least one hour in the kitchen every time. Fresh ingredients. My only vegetable intake. And I’ve been doing that for three years. I just love it so much, man. I cook it for everyone who visits me. Chilli-Knoblauch-Auflauf cured my depression.

[shutupimtryin2write]

My Weakness

Ivar x Reader

Warnings: All of the fluff, smut

Words: 1,300

It’s not often you get a sweet/giving Ivar fic to fantasize about so enjoy, my heathen army! *I got this idea from the movie Ever After and I highly recommend it.*

You were walking down the street back to your small house when you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. You grinned to yourself knowingly and looked down at Ivar. “No crutches today?” you asked. “I was trying to catch up with you and didn’t have time to grab them. I’m faster with my hands anyway,” he said. “What can I do for you Ivar?” you asked.

“I-I just wanted to see you,” he replied stuttering and your cheeks blushed.

You and Ivar had known each other since you were children, but haven’t become close until recently. “Come on in,” you said, smiling at him and opening the door. He crawled over to the nearest chair and took a seat. You went over to the fire, throwing in an extra log and prodding it around a little bit to make the flames grow. Winter was approaching and it was getting colder than usual.

Ivar looked around your house and noticed the numerous books placed on tables and shelves. “Who would have thought the fiercest handmaiden in all of Kattegat is just a simple book worm,” he said, shaking his head. “Being a handmaiden only pays the bills. I much rather be home reading,” you said. Ivar furrowed his brow and looked at you as if you were nuts.

“I don’t get it. Why do you surround yourself with them? What do these books contain that is better than war or raiding?” he asked. “Science, philosophy, history, adventure… romance,” you answered, saying the last word only above a whisper. He simply looked at you and shrugged his shoulders.

“I would say all of that is better than coming home everyday covered in blood. Plus, one could never find anything like that in a place like this,” you added, taking a seat next to Ivar and handing him a cup of mead.

You both continued to talk for a while longer, about numerous topics. You enjoyed each other’s company, exchanging shy glances and smiles. “I’ll be right back,” Ivar said, moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I told you, I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and watched him leave.

****

About an hour passed and you were questioning if he was ever coming back. Perhaps you bored him with the talk of books and he lost interest in you, you frowned at the thought. You paced around your room with your arms crossed, like a child not getting what they wanted. Eventually there was a knock at the door and you couldn’t help but chuckle. You were so head over heels for Ivar, you knew you were in too deep.

You opened the door to see Ivar and his chariot right behind him. This time he had his crutches and he towered over you. “I have something for you,” he said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He motioned towards the chariot and you walked over with him. You saw a stack of books and ancient scrolls and your jaw dropped at the sight.

“Ivar.. this is amazing,” you said, hugging him tightly. “I can’t accept these,” you added. “Of course you can,” he replied, sincerely, looking deep into your eyes.

****

All of the books Ivar had given you were scattered across the floor and you both laid beside each other on a pile of blankets, while he watched you flip through the pages. You couldn’t believe that he did this for you, there was a huge smile plastered on your face the whole time.

“Where did you even find these?” you asked. “My father had collected them over his years of raiding. I’m happy to see them going to someone more than deserving,” he said, giving you a genuine smile.

“It’s not fair..” you said, looking away from the books to him. “What’s not?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“You’ve found my weakness, but I have yet to find yours,” you told him.

“I thought it would be quite obvious..” he said, looking deep into your eyes and letting out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding. He looked down shyly when you didn’t reply. Your heartbeat quickened and your cheeks turned hot. After a moment he regained the courage to look back up at you. Ivar cupped your face in one hand and slowly leaned forward to kiss you. You met him in the middle and your whole body lit up in flames when your lips touched his.

He gently pushed you on your back and pressed his chest against yours, deepening the kiss. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you gladly complied. Your tongues twirled around each other’s, fighting for dominance. You tugged at his shirt, finding the fabric to be an annoying hindrance keeping you from his body. He chuckled at your aggravated face and sat up for you to take his shirt off. You bit your lip when you saw his toned chest and eyed his body.

Ivar leaned in to kiss you again, but you stopped him and he gave you a confused look in return. You scooted closer to him and straddled his lap. You carefully brought your hand to his hair and pulled the band off. Then you slowly ran your fingers from his scalp to the ends of his long hair, undoing his braids.

“I like when your hair is down,” you said quietly, running your hands through his hair once again. He groaned softly and leaned into your touch. Ivar slid the zipper down your dress, pulling it slowly over your head and unclasping your bra. He smirked at the sight of you and leaned back dragging you on top of him, reaching your lips in another passionate kiss. You felt a surge of excitement flow through you when you felt him harden beneath you.

He slid hand in-between your legs, feeling how wet you for him and proceeded to tear your panties off. His hand found your clit and made slow circles with his fingers.

“Fuck..” you moaned. You moved to undo his pants and he stiffened, looking down at his legs. When he was with other women he could care less, but with you it was different, he valued your opinion of him and couldn’t handle rejection from you.

“Ivar, there’s no need to be self-conscious, nothing about you will ever scare me away. I want you so bad,” you reassured. He thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. You took his pants off and you were sure you would never see a better sight in the world.

You stroked him a few times, earning a couple of groans out of him. “Ride me, baby,” he said in a tone that made you shiver. You slowly slid yourself onto him and threw your head back in pleasure, he filled you perfectly. Your eyes connected as you started to roll your hips against his and you watched his mouth fall open in ecstasy. His hands moved from your hair, down your back, and eventually grabbed your ass, to set a pace for you. “Oh my gods..I-Ivar.. please..” you begged for nothing in particular.

When his name and pleads for him fell from your lips it flipped a switch in him. He growled and thrust his hips up to meet yours. You gasped in pleasure, he was hitting all the right spots.

“Please don’t stop! Ivar!” you screamed out, as he began to move faster. “Fuck..Y/N” he barely uttered.

You both came undone together and you rode out your orgasm, making sure it lasted as long as possible. You fell into each other’s arms and you grabbed a nearby blanket, covering your naked bodies. You wrapped your leg around Ivar’s torso, snuggling close to him and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s you Y/N. You are my weakness.”

Phew I am so fuckin’ turned on rn. Hope you all liked this! Please comment and let me know what you thought. Your comments literally give me life lmao.

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

Ask D'Mine: Quick Carbs, and Can Accutane Cause Diabetes?

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/ask-dmine-quick-carbs-and-can-accutane-cause-diabetes/

Ask D'Mine: Quick Carbs, and Can Accutane Cause Diabetes?

Hey everyone! Happy Saturday! Welcome once again to our weekly advice column, Ask D'Mine, with your host Wil Dubois veteran type 1, author and clinical diabetes educator. Today Wil's tackling sources of quick-acting carbs in case of lows, and whether a certain (acne!) medication is connected to causing diabetes. Great questions, all!

Need help navigating life with diabetes? Email your questions to AskDMine@diabetesmine.com

Larry, type 3 from Virginia, writes: My type 1 daughter is 14 years old and an excellent tennis player. Yesterday she was in a very strenuous match which lasted over 2 hours. In anticipation of the match, one hour before she reduced her basal 50% and consumed some complex carbs. Thirty minutes before she suspended her basal completely. She started the match with BG at 185 but it quickly dived into the low 60's. This was a USTA match, so the changeovers are timed and she has to check her blood and consume as many carbs that she can in a very limited amount of time. During the match, she consumed 4 bottles of Gatorade and about 12 tabs of glucose which amounted to approximately 160 grams of carbs. Her BG's stayed in the 60 — 75 area throughout the match. Toward the end she felt bloated by the amount of Gatorade that she had consumed and it certainly impacted her play in the last game. Any comments about managing BG in athletic events would be appreciated, but my specific question revolves around what would be a better source for a high amount of carbs which could be consumed quickly and easily during changeovers?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: Short answer to a long question: Dex4 fluid. Why? Because it has 16 grams of very, very, very fast-acting sugar in only two ounces of liquid. Gatorade, by comparison, has less than 2 carbs per ounce. So for getting a lot of sugar into her young hide with a minimum of bloating, the Dex would be the way to go. (Now of course, some Gatorade for the electrolytes is probably a good idea, but not four bottles worth.)

As for how you handled her pump and complex carbs, I think you did great, so I've got nothing to add to that.

Now, I'm feeling the need for a bit of a disclaimer here because I've recommended Dex stuff before.Once or twice.But, I'm not on their payroll. I'm not a stock holder. In fact, I think the damn stuff is a little pricey. I spend way too much of my limited disposable income on Dex4 products each month as my frickin' insurance company won't cover glucose products. Apparently, it's not a necessary medical expense.

But I love the stuff. It works and it's saved my ass more times than I can count. It's portable, fast, and effective. And most importantly, it keeps me from overdoing it. If I were using some tasty candy I'd eat five times too much, have a rebound excursion, plus all the unneeded calories would make me fat. (Frequent lows can = bigger waistline.)

Oh. One little tip before the first serve: Make sure you have the little Dex4 bottles open for your daughter in advance. Otherwise getting the tricky seals off the top of the bottle will use up her whole changeover!

Michelle, type 3 from Massachusetts, writes: I appreciate your weekly column and look forward to learning more each time I read. I've been with my fiancé for 3-1/2 years now (we will be getting married next year) and he is a very "keep to himself T1" so it's hard for me to ask him questions and get anything more than a rushed answer or just have the subject changed. He was diagnosed his senior year of high school and blames Accutane for getting diabetes. Since we've started dating I've done a lot of research, but really only found one article that briefly mentioned that Accutane could impact blood sugar. Do you think that Accutane could be to blame, or could there be more to the story? Thanks again.

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: Not to blame, no way. Part of the story? Perhaps. But no more than a brief prologue or maybe a foreword from an outsider. But just so everyone's in the loop, Accutane is an acne drug. Well not just any acne drug. Sort of a drug of last resort when all else has failed. It's powerful stuff with a host of side effects.

According to the prescribing information sheet there's a "high risk" that the med can cause miscarriage, still-birth, or birth defects. It can mess with your head, causing depression or psychosis in some people. And suicidal behavior. It can dry out your eyes and rob you of night vision. It can make your skin hyper-sensitive to the sun. Make you more prone to scarring. It can screw up your bones, sometimes making them weak, and other times making them abnormally thick. It can cause nosebleeds, change the color of your skin, slow down healing of wounds, raise your triglycerides, and create unwanted hair growth. It can trigger pancreatitis. Frankly, it's one hell of a scary-sounding drug. No wonder your guy blames his diabetes on it.

And hidden in practically the last line of this long litany of terrifying side effects is the off-hand comment that "some patients receiving Accutane have experienced problems in the control of their blood sugar. In addition, new cases of diabetes have been diagnosed during Accutane therapy, although no causal relationship has been established."

So there you have it. Straight from the Accutane horse's mouth. It can cause blood sugar problems. And it has been associated with new diagnoses of diabetes. But does that mean it caused his diabetes?

That's the 64-million-dollar question, isn't it?

First, consider that Accutane has been prescribed to over 13 million people (the name brand, made by Roche, was pulled from the U.S. market in 2009 under the weight of over 5,000 personal injury lawsuits, but generics still remain available). And there's what? Around 3 million type 1s? If Accutane were a primary cause of type 1 diabetes, I'd expect there'd be a hell of a lot more of us!

Given the wide-ranging side effects of this med, one has to wonder if there's anything that it doesn't cause. But the key thing to consider here is that we really have no clue what causes type 1 in the first place. So that makes it kind of hard to know with any degree of certainty what hand Accutane did, or didn't, have in your guy's diagnosis.

Here's all we really know for sure: in those of us with type 1, the body's immune system goes bonkers and attacks the home team. Our immune system gobbles up our insulin-producing beta cells like they were M&Ms.

And that's about all we know. Period.

Why does it happen? What's the trigger? No one knows. Some people think a virus. Some people think environmental pollution. At least one guy believes it's the Accutane he took for his acne in high school. But it could just as easily be contamination from aluminum in TV dinner trays, preservatives in foods, holes in the ozone layer, global warming, or sunspots. Who the hell knows? I spent almost 30 years working in photographic darkrooms and laboratories and have sometimes wondered if all those toxic chemicals we carelessly dipped our hands into played a part in my health destiny.

But I know a lot of ex-lab people (no more labs, everything went digital) and none of them have diabetes. Still... did the photo chemicals play a role? Even for just a few people like me? Maybe.

But so what?

I'm sure I'll get flamed for this, but I believe that for individuals the cause of our diabetes is meaningless. Hey. We got it now. Time to put on our big boy and big girl pants and deal with it. Now, for the greater good of all the yet-to-get-it folks, I do think science needs to figure this out so we can prevent future cases. The fifth generation to survive since the discovery of insulin is developing type 1 every day. It would be nice if there wasn't a sixth generation.

But for me, figuring out if there is one cause of type 1 or 100,000 causes—and figuring out what caused mine—really doesn't matter. It won't reset the clock. It won't change what happened to me. I think that spending too much time on "why did this happen" is unhealthy. It's counter-productive. An energy suck. Best to move on.

Controlling... well, ha! Trying to control my diabetes takes all the energy I've got to spare. Worrying about how I got here?

I don't have the oomph for that.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

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