#as always let me know if there's a print you'd like to see that isn't in the gallery yet

[baihujun]

Just wanted to let y’all know I updated my INPRNT after one hundred years with several recent (and recent-ish) illustrations. More than pictured here. Plus, there's a promo today 👍

[devoutekuna]

Getting woken up by his child

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N- Toji's part is from my previous blog

Sukuna

"Get out" Gripping the poor boy by his shoulders, only making him kick and squeak for you even more. He was sick and tired of his son coming to wake you up in the middle of the night. Especially when it wasn't anything important. He treasured his alone time with you, anywhere away from his offspring who did nothing but terrorizing him.

"Get off!" Trying to slap and kick his father, taking the boy out of the shared bedroom, dropping him onto the ground before closing the door on him. The pink haired man walked back to your sleeping body, smirking at the sound of his son's pleas.

Nanami-

"Why do you need mummy?" Rolling over to fair the fair haired toddler, who was climbing onto the bed, trying to use his legs as a handle bar. A giant grin appearing on his face as he saw his parent. "Papa!" Hands sticking out as he wanted to get on the bed. "Upsies" picking up the kid as he sat him on his chest. Gently pinching his cheek as he waited for a response. "Me hungry" pointing to himself as he expected food to appear. Sighing as he knew that he had to tend to his son's needs but didn't want to leave his beautiful wife. Sitting up as he slipped on some slippers, latching the kid onto his hip.

Geto-

Hands wrapped around your waist as he held you close, his chest touching your back. Feeling the light taps of someone on his shoulders, glancing back to see who the culprit was. None other than his daughter. "Dad" tugging on his hair as it was the closest. "What is it sweetheart?" It had to be pretty important to disturb his sleep. "I wanna sleep in here." Not bothering to put up a fuss as he opened up the blanket towards her, quickly slipping under the covers with her toy. Letting out a puff of air as he felt the her body warmth rub against his back.

Gojo-

The feeling of hands slapping his face woke him up. The infamous grin of his son being the first sight to his day. "What the-" grabbing the child's hand as he inspected it, seeing the fresh colour of blue paint along his hand, knowing that it only meant that it was on his face. Sitting up as he grabbed the closest reflective item, seeing the blue paint adorning his face. His surroundings come to light as he scanned the room, hand prints falling upon nearly every surface he could reach. Knowing that you'd freak if you saw the mess he made. "Isn't blue your favourite colour daddy?" He knew exactly what he was doing with the teasing.

Toji-

The feeling of the duvet being pulled off him as he felt a light weight crawl onto his chest, opening his eyes to see the little black haired girl crawling onto his chest, he onesie somehow falling off her. Watching as she fell off onto the bed, slowly making her way over to you, she didn't even notice that he father was awake.

Standing up as she tried to keep her balance, falling over each time till she made her way to you. Hands falling onto your covered face. Growing annoyed as he saw how you slept so peacefully only to be woken up to your needy daughter, especially since you needed the rest because you always took care of her whilst he worked.

"Leave ya' mother alone" dragging the small baby off you. Much to her dismay as she felt her chubby clothed legs being dragged away. "Ma-ma" crying for you already as she felt his calloused hands grab her. Throwing her onto his chest, holding her legs down to make sure she didn't try to escape. "What do you want?" More like an order to respond, knowing that she probably couldn't say it since she was around 14 months old.

"Mama" pointing to your sleeping body, pouting her lips as she really wanted you. Sighing in defeat since he'd have to leave the comfort of his bed.

[a66-1]

starving.

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

Part 1 | ???

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen. (these tw are for the whole thing, im pretty sure this is gonna be a series)

a/n: hey. if you need help, dm me. ill talk to you if you need it :). (also i made my banners. if you want one dm me! i make them for free, just with credit :)) NOT PROOF READ

i hope your doing okay honey.

Stepping out of the shower, the towel around you just big enough to touch ends is slipped around yourself. Showering is getting harder. You can barely stand glancing at the mirror now.

You dry yourself off, and hand the towel back up. You can do it, just walk past the mirror to grab your clothes.

You take the steps past the mirror, and turn your back to the mirror to change. Slipping your bra on, and it squishes the skin on your back and you grimace.

Once your dressed, you turn back around. The nagging voices are just waiting to pounce. I mean, what? You used to be so skinny.

You used to be pretty.

You decided to let your hair air dry, and you walk into your bedroom. You had work today, but you really wish you didn't. It was a bad week, you'd skipped 3 meals in the last few days and you know what your therapist would say.

'The progress you've made, hun. You can't go back now.'

The bad days are getting too close to each other now. You used to have at least a week between them, but now it's barely 48 hours. Maybe being off medicine isn't working good anymore.

Maybe you're no good.

You throw in a big hoodie, one that covers you, and some sweat pants, glancing at the big mirror in your room.

You can't stop analyzing yourself.

There's not one good thing on you is it?

Fuck.

The rest of the day was spent at your stupid 9-5, with your stupid boss, in your stupid, lonely life. Christ, being off anti-depressants is really hitting you hard. Everyone at your job is stupid and today every customer who wants to blow you ear off about how you kids these days, by the end of the day, your so tense that your shoulders are aching.

You got about 30 minutes left at this off-brand kroger store, when a big, big ass man walks in, shoving a mask with a skull print on it on. You curse to yourself, you really don't want to have to call the police for a robbery, you just want to go home.

To be honest, if he had a gun, you'd be half tempted to let him shoot you-

"Ma'am?" A heavy British accent came from your right. You turn your head, and scan his few items. You don't bother with the how are you's and you sigh.

"It'll be 16.84." You drag your eyes to his, and he reaches to his pocket, pulling out..

A wallet. What else were you thinking?

He hands you a twenty, and you hand him his respective change. He bags his own items, because honestly, you seem like the only worker in the store. Your face is written with exhaustion, whether it be from this job or something else, and the guy notices.

"Have uh... A good day." He nods to you, and walks off.

You purse your lips, and sigh, closing your cashier, because fuck finishing today. You're too close to a breakdown, and you're not trying to let anyone see.

You drive home, your hands tight around the wheel. You know it's a bad idea to be driving this emotional, to the point you wonder what would happen if you swerve your car into a tree.

You won't do it though.

You need to get back out there. It's why you stopped taking your meds.

You promise yourself that tomorrow you'll go out, and at least get a one night stand, you want need, anything.

Once home and in bed, you scroll and scroll and scroll. Doom scrolling is too common on these longer nights. You have a pillow tucked into your arm, and your hand squeezes it every time that pang in your lower chest rings out. Loneliness, you think.

You always scroll through your old friends instagrams or snapchats, seeing their nice bodies and nice boyfriends. You've been so nice and kind and karma should be on your side, but it always failed.

Especially after your last boyfriend.

Your friends say to wait.

To wait.

To wait.

But waiting is getting harder. Days are getting longer, and your head seems to spin more when left to its own devices. Why do you have to wait?

Your looks.

Your personality.

Who'd wanna be seen with you?

You flip your phone over, and shove your face in the pillow, your breathing staggered.

You fell asleep late, that night. The tears brought you to exhaustion.

woah why did this take 2 tries to write.

be waiting for pt.2

TRUST FINALS ARE SOOM COMING TO AN END and summer i will be STEWING TRUST!!!

Taglist!

@i-am-hungry-24-7

thank you for all the support. drunk simon blew up and im crying bc i came back after a 2 year hiatus and i wasn't getting the same feedback as usual so to finally seeing people enjoy my work again makes me feel great. <3

sorry simon wasn't in this part much. you gotta know the reader first tho, right?

bye babes..

-a661

[ericshoney]

Perfect ~ Sturniolo triplets

Warnings: angst, eating disorders, crying, mental health, mentions of a broken home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been friends with the triplets since high school and you loved every second you spent with them. As you didn't have the best home life, you found comfort and protection in the Sturniolo home and once the guys moved to LA, you were close behind. You moved in with the trio, saying you'd help with their filming and any meetings.

However, after spending years in LA and now having your own social media fame, you couldn't help but feel bland and simple. You also couldn't ignore the comments on your posts about your weight. You had always struggled with your weight, it going up and down constantly.

But now, it was getting to your head. Your mind was telling you that you wasn't good enough and you were fat and ugly and that the guys only kept you around as you help edit or keep them on track of important meetings. Your mind telling you they didn't really like you.

It then resulted in you skipping out snacks, only eating three meals a day. Which then went downhill. You then cut out breakfast, before skipping lunch and slowly dinner as well. Your mind tells you that eating would just get you fat and nobody would like you.

Your weight then dropped drastically and the guys noticed. They noticed how sunken your eyes looked, how thin you were getting, how your clothes hung off your body and they were worried. They were scared to lose you.

Nick, Matt and Chris sat on the sofa as you were showering, the trio talking about your sudden weight loss. Concern written all over their faces.

"She's not eating." Matt mentioned.

"We need to talk to her." Chris said.

"Yes, but we need to be careful not to hurt her more than she already is." Nick said, agreeing but also thinking logically.

Matt and Chris nodded and when you walked out, the guys told you to sit as they wanted to talk. You nodded, taking a seat between Matt and Nick on the sofa.

"What's going on?" You asked.

"We've noticed your sudden weight loss." Chris blurted out, earning a slap from Nick.

"It's great isn't it. I'm now fitting the perfect LA image." You said, a fake smile printed on your face, which the guys knew was fake.

"Sweetheart, we're basically your brothers. Talk to us, you aren't eating which isn't healthy and we don't want to lose you." Nick softly said, taking your hand in his.

"Just not hungry." You mumbled.

"That's what your mind is telling you. But we know it's not true." Matt said.

"None of you really like me.....I'm only good for helping you work." You mumbled, tears ready to spill over.

"No, that's not true, kid. You are one of our best friends and as Nick said, basically our sister. We love you and care about you. If we didn't, we wouldn't be having this talk." Chris said, sitting in front of you on the floor.

You looked into his blue eyes, the tears now falling freely down your face. You looked at Nick and to Matt as well, all their faces showed worry. You mind now screaming at you for making them upset.

"I'm sorry." You cried.

"Don't be sorry. We're sorry for not seeing the signs first of all." Matt said, rubbing your back.

"We want to help you. Will you let us?" Nick asked softly.

You nodded laying your head on his shoulder. Chris laid his head on your knees as Matt continued to rub your back. In that moment you felt loved and supported and knew over time you would get better, with your friends help.

[muxshwriting]

the way i loved only you (pt. i)

Eloise Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: you never thought you'd find someone again, let alone find that someone in a girl from a past you'd left behind || warnings: mentions of childbirth, death, abandonment || word count: 1379 || masterlist

REQUESTED BY @baylegend6

Your mother's screams cut through the air and through your bones. They wouldn't let you into the room, pushing everyone away despite the fact that you were nearly seven and ten. Lady Danbury rushed past you, a worried expression on her face.

"Lady Danbury, is Mama alright?"

She was solemn. "I don't know my child. She is strong and a fighter, I'm sure she will give birth to a brother for you."

Your mother did birth a son, but not for you. Your father couldn't have been happier and her screams faded into the excitement. You weaved through the corners of the room, unnoticed in favour of the new male heir. You creeped into your mother's room, trying to see if she was alright. Instead you saw maids carrying bloodied cloths and hiding tears. Mama was dead, killed by the child she loved unconditionally.

Choosing your future above your father's reputation and not wanting to meet your mother's fate, you packed the necessary clothes and pin money and took off into the night.

Three years later, a lot had changed. At seventeen, you'd met a boy who you'd thought loved you more than life itself. As young lovers do, the consequences of your actions didn't occur to you until they were hitting you in the face. You gave birth to a beautiful young girl alone named Abigail and afraid after your lover abandoned you in the middle of the night. You had held that babe with such tenderness, whispering sweet nothings and promising that you would never let her have the life that you did. You promised you would be there, that you would protect her and hold her close as long as you were able.

Now your baby had grown into the most mischievous toddler you'd ever met. She would try and trick you and her favourite person in the world whenever she could, Theo. Theo had been there since Abigail was born, helping you care for her when you were working. The two of you had met when you got a job working as a shop assistant at the same printing shop. There was no doubt that Abigail adored Theo, she would run to him whenever she could. And on one occasion, Theo wasn't alone.

"T'eo!" Your daughter cried, running towards the boy. As she toddled closer, Theo bent down to take her in his arms and her tenderly. He had always been the best with Abigail. You chase after her, taking Abigail from his arms and turning to the girl he was talking with. She seemed only slightly younger than you but was dressed like aristocracy. There was no dirt on the hem of her dress, no scuffs on her shoes.

"I'm terribly sorry about her." You say to the girl, lowering your gaze slightly to look her over. She was pretty, blessed with brown locks and the kindest eyes as she looked at your daughter.

"No problem." She replied.

"What brings you so far from Mayfair?"

"Mayfair?" The girl says slowly. "Am I that obvious?"

You smile at her. "I happen to be an expert in noticing those who don't fit it. However, you are particularly obvious Miss...?"

"Bridgerton. Eloise Bridgerton." A Bridgerton, in these streets of London. Perhaps pigs were about to fly.

"Well Miss Eloise, it is an honour to welcome you into our corner of the world. I'm Y/n, this is Abigail, my daughter."

"Your daughter?" Eloise seemed surprised. "You two are married?"

Theo, who had been watching this conversation burst out with laughter. "No!" He cried, then steadied his emotions. "I'm not Abigail's father, nor am I married to Y/N."

"We're friends. He's helped me greatly. As for Abigail's father, he uh- he isn't around."

Eloise stared. "You are not married?"

"No..."

"But you have a daughter?"

You roll your eyes slightly, tired of this conversation. "Yes, yes. I'm a sinner, having a child out of wedlock. My soul is damned, my virtue is ruined. Please, spare me the lecture."

"No!" Eloise tried to defend herself. "I just mean to say that I didn't know that unmarried women had children."

"Ah." You understand what she means, and she means no insult. "You'll find there are plenty things Mayfair doesn't teach you."

"You speak as though you know."

"Because I do." Abigail fidgets in your arms and you say your goodbyes to Theo and Eloise as you try and calm her before she starts screaming. "Sorry, I really must put her down for her nap otherwise I won't be able to work. I hope I see you again Miss Eloise."

As it happened, you did see her again. She would visit and ask for Theo in the beginning but then she would ask for you and Abigail. Eloise could easily spend an afternoon sitting at your desk and entertaining Abigail whilst you poured over the printer's accounts. More often than not, Eloise would bring ribbons and small toys far too expensive for you to afford, all so that Abigail could be happy.

You found yourself growing closer to the girl, craving her visits and unable to hide your smile when she did. Eloise shared your smiles and the secrets the two of you held for each other only grew. Until one day, Eloise simply vanished. She didn't come and visit, she left no note, no hint of where she had gone or why she didn't visit.

Theo managed to find a copy of Whistledown that slandered Eloise for daring to enter the poorer areas of London and talking with commoners. But Eloise had completely cut off you and Theo and Abigail with no warning and no apology. Perhaps you should be the one apologising to her; she was a young girl, perhaps you had pulled into a part of your world she wasn't meant to see.

You had made a decision to walk away from the upper class and aristocracy. You couldn't try and relive some of your childhood by burdening Eloise Bridgerton. For the sae of your future, and your daughters future, you had to forget that Eloise Bridgerton ever existed and ever entered your life. She would never be yours to have and hold and love. It was better to move on now, so that you didn't convince yourself that something might happen.

But something did happen. A letter arrived, hand delivered by a man not dissimilar to Eloise. He was dressed in a spotless suit, awkwardly looking around with a letter clutched in his hand.

"Can I help you sir?"

He suddenly turns to you and seems glad to see a person who doesn't want to steal from him. "Yes, I'm looking for Y/N Y/L/N?"

"You've found her."

The man straightened his jacket and offered you the letter. "My name is Benedict Bridgerton, I believe you knew my sister? She wished for you to have this."

"Eloise-" You were stunned for a second. "Eloise wrote me a letter?"

"She also wanted me to apologise for it taking so long."

You practically snatched the letter from his hands, tearing it open and reading the words she wrote for you.

Dearest Y/N,

Words can't express how sorry I am because I am eternally sorry. But I cannot come to the shop to see you and Abigail. I don't think I'll ever be able to see you again and that is my greatest disappointment. My eldest brother intends for me to spend my summer fixing my reputation and then likely intends to find me a husband next season or perhaps the season after that.

The truth is, I want to see you and knowing that I can't only makes me want it more. I hope you write to me throughout the year because I will answer. If you chose not to write, I will not harass you any longer and I'll leave and Abigail alone. I hope Abigail knows how much I care. I'm sorry for abandoning you and her. I imagine that you're upset and angry and I don't blame you one bit.

I don't want you to blame yourself for this, it isn't your fault and it never will be. I just hope you can forgive me for all this. If you'll have me, I'll be yours, forever.

Eloise Bridgerton

part two (now here!)

so... it's been three weeks since my last upload. but this took me a while. i hope you like it xx

[ohbo-ohno]

Prompt requests: 1) Price x Reader - abandoned farm / waking up in a random room with no idea who/where/why/how you got there 2) Soap x Reader - forest / dealing with strange natural (or not-so-natural) phenomena 3) Ghost x Reader - the only other car in the abandoned parking lot / being followed

1k game here

i went ahead and just did one of these! i've got several requests in my inbox still, but i might come back and add another one you had later :)

1.7k of your ex-boyfriend ghost catching up with you. no smut!

The car's been tailing you since you left work.

It's a discreet car, and you probably wouldn't have even noticed it if you hadn't run several errands before starting to head home. The driver isn't even trying to be subtle - he never parks more than a spot away from you and he never lets another car get between you and him on the road.

You already know who he is. You hate to admit it to yourself, but you know.

Ghost always was possessive. It's not a leap to think he'd be pissed at the idea of anyone getting close to even your car.

Plus, he probably wants you to know he's following you. He always was a sadistic bastard, always liked the see the pain he was causing.

There's no one you can call for help. You didn't rat him out the first time you ran, and you're not going to now. There's no way you could get the police to keep you safe without telling them all about Ghost and his secrets, and you'd be better of just surrendering to Ghost's wrath at that point.

You take a deep breath and tighten your hands around the wheel.

You can't get help.

You can't run - he's tailing you too closely for that.

You can't fight - you don't keep your gun in your car, and you've never been a match for Simon hand-to-hand.

You pull into a dark parking lot, one that's almost entirely empty save for a few people waiting at the bus stop. You take a few deep breaths as you pull to a stop as far away from the bus stop as you can, trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable confrontation.

The car parks a spot away. Just seconds later, he's climbing out of the driver's side and striding towards you.

You knew it was him. He'd never send a henchman after you, even all these months later with so much distance between the two of you.

He's clothed entirely in black - like he always is on the job, apparently black hides bloodstains best - and comes to a stop right in front of your window, so your just staring into a wall of darkness.

You roll the window down, the awkward silence heavy.

The first thing you notice when he ducks down is that he's wearing the mask. Not the one sewn onto a balaclava, but one with the skull pattern printed onto the balaclava itself.

"Get out," he grunts. His first words to you in nearly a year and they're a command.

You scowl. This is exactly why you ran in the first place.

"No." You try to infuse as much confidence into your voice as possible, but you know you fail.

He huffs. "Love, c'mon, I'm not playing games. Get out of the car."

You shake your head, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white.

"No! I don't have to listen to you - especially when you've been stalking me all day-"

He sighs loudly, and before you can complain he's reaching through the window and opening the door for himself, quickly ducking into your car.

"Hey, stop!" You try, batting away his hands when he unbuckles your seatbelt, pulling you up by the waist until your standing unsteadily against him. "You have no right-!"

"Baby. Shut up." He growls, reaching around you to tug the key out of the ignition, the hand around your waist affording you no wiggle room.

"Don't you tell me to shut up!" You complain, pushing against his chest as he starts to nudge you in front of him. "I haven't had to deal with you in nearly a year and the first things you think to say to me are an order and shut up? Fuck you, asshole!"

There's a low chuckle at your back, and he turns you around to pin you to the car. Your breath hitches as he presses your chests together, ducking low enough that you can't look anywhere but his eyes.

"I missed you," he says, low and secretive.

God, you wish you could hate him. Everything would be so much easier if you hated him.

"Let me go," you say, forcing sternness into your voice.

"No."

"I'm serious," you try, pushing at the center of his chest. He only uses the pressure as an excuse to lean closer, draping himself over you.

"I'm serious too, love. You're never leaving my line of sight again."

You shut your eyes against the wave of longing that brings. He used to talk like that all the time, back before you realized how deep he was in his life of crime.

Gonna keep you forever, love.

Might chain you to the bed. Keep you safe at home, make sure I always know where you are. Little fuckdoll waiting at home for me, hm?

Never letting you leave me. Never.

I can't stand to be apart from you, love. It feels like I'm missing a limb.

You can't leave - you know that, don't you? I'll hunt you down, baby. This isn't a relationship you can get away from.

Simon was always a little possessive, a little controlling. Sometimes it got you off, and sometimes it scared you. In the weeks leading up to your escape, it did a lot more of the latter.

"We're broken up," you say on an exhale, looking back up at him. He's tugged the mask up to his nose, and his warm breath ghosts over your face. "I left you. We're not together anymore, Ghost."

He nearly flinches at that name, stiffening against you. "Don't call me that."

You don't correct yourself, and one of his hands comes up to collar your throat.

"I'm not joking. You don't call me that, understood?"

He applies just the slightest bit of pressure on either side of your neck and you fold like wet cardboard. Nodding quickly and taking a big deep breath in when he stop squeezing.

"What do you call me?" He bites, leaning closer until you're almost brushing noses. You try to flinch back but can't make it very far. "Say it. What do you call me?"

"Simon," you blurt out, nearly a plea. You haven't been near his intensity in so long, it's hard to handle now. You drop your eyes shamefully, unable to look at him.

"Good girl," he purrs, hand moving upwards to cup your chin and tilt it up. You can't help but meet his eyes, and the softness there nearly breaks your heart. "I'm never Ghost for you, only Simon. You got that?"

"You hunted me down like a dog."

He smiles at that, leans close enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. "I got you back. You're the one who ran away, love. It's a scary world out there, I can't leave you all alone."

"I don't need you to help me."

"You will. You'll need me again. Everything will go back to just how it was, and you'll see how good it is again. I'll take care of you."

That makes your heart beat a little faster, makes your breath quicken.

The first few months with Simon were... well, not heavenly but certainly good. Things were at their best when you first moved in - when he was still eager to dodge work for you, and when you didn't realize how violent "work" really was. Things only started getting bad when you started putting the pieces together.

"You can't protect me from your world, Simon," you whisper, tilting your head towards him just enough to bump your foreheads together. That's the whole reason you had run in the first place - nearly getting kidnapped and having a gun held to your head had been more than enough to scare you out of his world.

"I can," he growls, pressing closer to you. "You just have to let me. You didn't know before, but now you do. Now I can make sure you know how to keep yourself safe when I'm not there."

"But I shouldn't have to!" You exclaim, tears welling in your eyes. Why can't he just understand? "I don't want to always be looking over my shoulder, always waiting for someone to hurt me, or to hurt you-"

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that!" You explode, shoving at his chest as he tears slip past your waterline.

"I do," he snarls, the first hints of anger painting his words. "I can keep my woman safe. I can keep what's mine safe."

You sniffle as you look up at him, bottom lip quivering.

You're not even sure what to say at this point. What else is there?

He seems to realize you've run out of words and deflates against you, curling both of his arms around your waist and holding you as close as he can while resting his chin on top of your head.

"It'll be okay, love," he comforts, swaying side to side. "I get why you ran, alright? I know you were scared, and that's my fault. It won't happen again. But it's time to stop running and to come home. You know that's where you're meant to be."

You sniffle against him, blinking into the dark fabric of his shirt.

"You scare me," you confess quietly, safe without his eyes boring into yours.

He only stiffens for a moment, then goes soft against you again. "I know."

One hand moves up to pet over your hair, stroking across your head in the exact way that always makes you feel a little loose limbed. It works now, and you give him a bit more of your weight.

"You're scared because you're smart. I'd be worried if you weren't scared. I shoulda known before that I couldn't keep my job from you, and that's on me. If I had told you, you might not have run."

"I would have."

He snorts, tugs a lock of your hair. "Shush. I promise, things will be different this time. Better. All cards on the table."

Your hands tentatively wrap around him, linking at the small of his back. You've always loved how big he is compared to you, how protected you feel in his shadow.

Even now, knowing what you know, you still feel that way.

It's that thought that has you finally breaking down, leaning into his hold and squeezing him tight to you.

"Oh, love," he sighs, squeezing you as tightly as he can without hurting you. "It's alright, you're okay. Just get it all out. Everything's going to be alright."

As much as you hate it, you think he might be right.

[adickaboutspoons]

Happy sexual Sunday. In honor of Rhys announcing his upcoming substack by pointing at hand-written bulletpoints on a chalkboard with a screwdriver, I want to share the OnlyFans Stede idea that has been in my plot bunny pen for ages, but prolly isn't going to go anywhere. Stede's OF account was set up for him by Lucius, and is completely neutral content of him demonstrating basic auto maintenance and, like, how to tie a fishing lure, and a bunch of other Dad things, and he's completely oblivious to how unintentionally suggestive he's being. Like, he's filming himself working in the garden when it's super hot out, makes a "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" dad joke, strips off his shirt and uses it to mop his brow. He's on his hands and knees, pulling up weeds, and when he manages to pull up a particularly stubborn one, roots and all, kind-of-whispery/grunting-to-himself, "Aww, yeah. That's what you want, baby." Then he sits back and takes a deep drink from his water bottle, and accidentally holds it near his crotch while encouraging his watchers to stay hydrated. Ed is one of his subscribers and finds the whole thing just brain-meltingly hot. Eventually, they accidentally meet IRL, and Ed is trying to be SO COOL and not let it be known that he knows this guy and where from. And then they keep running into one another (by total coincidence - Ed hasn't become a convert to going to the farmer's market instead of just picking shit up from the grocery store on the off (likely) chance of running into Stede while he's there. Not at ALL.), and start becoming friendly. It's during one of these meetings Ed accidentally slips that he's a subscriber. He's mortified. For a moment he thinks Stede is going to get all weirded out. But Stede is just like "Oh! You like the feed? Why didn't you say so?! Always glad to meet my Only Fan!" (Stede has a v. healthy subscribership, but he thinks making the Only Fan joke is Hilarious) Stede asks for his username, and when he tells him, Stede is all "Oh! I know YOU! I can't tell you how much your feedback means to me. Always leaves me feeling all glowy for days!" Ed is all blushy and stammery and, "Uh... yeah, man. Me too." He offers Ed a hug, and Ed is internally combusting. Stede is all "If you've got any ideas for the feed, I'm always open to suggestions. Is there anything you'd like to see me doing?" There are MANY things Ed would like to see him doing. None of which are appropriate to give voice to in a crowded open-air market. Eventually eventually, after many instances where Ed is going crazy trying to figure out if it's a date or just a hang, there would be a v. thorough railing wherein Stede whispers all the tender, affirmational things Ed could ever have wished to hear. So! here's the only bit of it I've actually bothered to write:

The man on the screen smeared a little grease around the tight little hole, then inserted the cylinder into the gap in one smooth, gratifying motion. "There we are," he said, his voice a low, self-satisfied hum, "A nice, tight fit. And doesn't it feel good to do it yourself?"

Ed's breathing picked up pace a little.

"And that's how you replace a spark plug. Nothing shocking about it." He smiled a charming, little shit-eating grin and winked at the camera.

Ed's breath caught in his throat.

"So that's it for this one! Thanks, as always to my subscribers, and a special tip of the hat to this week's new friends," he looked away from the camera and put on a pair of gold wire-rimmed glasses. Ed swooned a little as he read out the names from an actual printed page.

At the end of it, he took off the glasses and looked directly into the camera again, his eyes soft and his smile genuine and kind. "Thank you for sharing this time with me. Lots of love!"

There was nothing explicitly sexual about the CapriSun_Erotica OnlyFans page. In fact, the most shocking thing about it was how roundly wholesome the content was. Just a man and his phone camera and a world of practical advice and dad jokes. An intensely hot man in the tiniest shorts or tightest jeans Ed had ever seen, who seemed allergic to doing up the top three buttons on his shirts, and that radiated so much DILF energy Ed was a little astonished the videos didn't just melt his phone screen. It was the most intensely arousing thing Ed had ever seen.

He eased himself out of his boxers and hit the replay button.

When he had cleaned himself up, he tapped out a quick reply. "Hey DaddyStede, great vid as usual. Really got my motor running. 😘"

[ddejavvu]

mei!! congrats on 20k!! 'i just don't want anyone to know i've fallen for you.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :) bradley bradshaw being so starstruck of his newborn caroline :)) him always staring at the baby being all :]] and every time she cries he stops whatever he drops and stops whatever he's doing immediately and be all D: and him being such a good house husband taking care of his wife after giving birth

join my 20K celebration!

'i just don't want anyone to know i've fallen for you.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

--

Bradley isn't easily broken away from Guys' Night. This week it's online, over headsets while he stations himself in front of the television with a controller in his hand. He's not the biggest fan of video games, but Hangman's challenged him, so he has to be the best.

You're happy to let him have time to himself, because it isn't easy to get that with a newborn baby. Bradley's gone above and beyond what you'd ever expected of him, volunteering for every feeding and scooping little Caroline up each time she cries. He'll always hand her over to you if you ask, but he's stuck to her like a magnet, so you're happy that he's getting a break to do something a little more fun than washing dirty onesies.

You're putting her in a fresh one now, the soiled one in the laundry pile. She doesn't like that she's not being coddled, already spoiled by her dad's insistence on holding her, and she starts to fuss while you're picking out her new outfit.

"Honey, it's okay," You croon, your wrist bent at an awkward angle as you rifle through a drawer of her onesies. You're looking for a specific print, but if she doesn't calm, you might have to go with the first one you can grab.

"It's alright," You promise her, watching her little face screw up, "No, honey, no tears, c'mon. You're okay, Mommy's here, you're-"

"Honey?" Bradley makes a rather unexpected appearance, headset still over his ears and mic angled downwards as he surveys the situation. Apparently he's heard her cries, and come running like a puppy on a leash.

"She's okay, Brad." You promise, finally finding the soft texture of the onesie you're searching for and dragging it out of the drawer, "Just fussy. You can go back to your game, sorry she scared you."

"S'okay," He shakes his head, taking the headset off and discarding it haphazardly on the dresser as he crosses the room to pick her up, "Daddy missed you, y'know? Holding a video game controller is so much worse than holding a baby. 'Specially when she's so cute," He gushes, leaning down to rub his nose to hers, which soothes her cries in an instant, "Huh, angel? Cutest baby in the world."

"That makes sense, though," Bradley hums, cradling her to his chest and angling his body towards you so that she looks the same way, "'Cause your mama's so beautiful, doesn't surprise me you are, too. Yeah," He sends you a dopey grin, turning back to Caroline to kiss her forehead, unphased as she drags a fistful of his shirt into her mouth. You hear a faint slew of sounds coming from Bradley's headset, and you reach for it, tentatively holding one of the pads to your ear. You're worried about what you might hear, considering all you've heard about video game talk among men, but all that greets you is whiny grown men.

"-fair! Rooster just gets to dip whenever he's dying, and go hold a baby?"

"I'd ditch this round, too, if I were him," Hangman drawls, "He knew he couldn't catch up with me."

"I dunno, Hangman. I'd rather go see my gorgeous wife and kid than beat your score," Payback quips, and you let out a fond chuckle for the man.

"Thanks, Reuben," You hum into the mic, and Bradley shares an amused grin with you over their antics.

"Hey, there she is! How's the baby?" Fanboy pipes up, and you wish you could show him her sleepy little face as she curls into Bradley's embrace.

"She's good! She's tired," You laugh, "Bradley might be occupied for a little while longer."

"All good," Javy promises, and you can hear the adoring grin in his voice, "And how's the mama?"

"I'm tired, too," You laugh, "Maybe I'll leave Caroline with Bradley and go take a nap myself."

"Go ahead, baby," Bradley nods, speaking at a low enough level that it doesn't bother Caroline where she's beginning to doze off on his chest, "I'll put the port-a-crib in the living room, 'n watch over her while I play. I'm sure she'll nap for a bit, she's probably tired since she missed her 10 o'clock nap."

"You sure?" You raise a concerned brow, "I was just teasing, Brad, I can take her."

"I'm sure," He waves off your worry, "Go nap, honey, you deserve it. I can handle her, I promise."

"I know you can," You smile at his insistence, "I just don't want to mess up Guys' Night."

"No, she could never mess it up," Bradley kisses Caroline's smooth forehead, "She'll just make it better, baby. I'll teach her to play."

"She'll eat your controller," You giggle, passing Bradley's headset back over to him and kissing your sleepy baby's chubby cheek, "Be good for Dada, okay? And go easy on Hangman, jellybean, I don't think he can handle being beaten by a baby."

[emilybeemartin]

I have three more designs to go with Boromir's "The Captain's Kit" design! Behold:

The King's Kit

Aragorn's design features Anduril, the Evenstar jewel, the Elessar elfstone (just to pull the books in), the ring of Barahir, the crown of Gondor, and his ranger's gloves and pipe, surrounded by athelas flowers (props to @erynalasse for suggesting athelas!). I know his crown isn't really part of his "kit," but like I said in my previous post, he's basically just Dirty Wild Man with Boromir's Vambraces until he gets Anduril.

The Marshal's Kit

Eomer's design features his helmet, shoulder guard, breastplate, decorative buckle, and sword, surrounded by simbelmyne flowers. Side note: Eomer's armor is THE prettiest of anybody's by far, it's sooooo gorgeous.

The Prince's Kit

Legolas' design features his bone-handled knives, soft boots, bow and quiver, and a seagull feather, surrounded by forest leaves. I kept wanting to add symbolism that I've developed over the years in fic (I always associate Legolas with mountain laurel leaves and flowers, as a woodland evergreen re: "greenleaf," and I often give him antler-bone jewelry and a seal ring) but I made myself stick to book/movie imagery.

You can get these, and Boromir's design, on t-shirts, journals, pillows, transparent stickers, and as prints. If you'd like to see them on other merch, just let me know. Also let me know if there are issues with various items; I'm still not entirely sure how Redbubble handles it's clothing categories, so if you want it on a specific type of shirt and it's not showing up, I'll try to fix it.

Emily B. Martin on Redbubble>

[vi-for-vendetta]

Anonymous asked:

if youre still taking requests, id love to see something written about some smug rich girl being turned into a milky cow

This isn't much to go off, so I'm gonna do my best lol. I wrote kinda bitchy wlw hucow transformation. Again, I wrote this in second person, I am sorry lol:

She wasn't always this way. When the two of you were younger, she had no desire to shove her closet the size of your house, or the designer purses, or the sports cars in your face. But the second you two went to college, she became a whole new person. Her whole personality revolved around her wealth. You assumed it was just because she wanted attention, but you always felt that it was the wrong kind of attention.

You hadn't spoken to her since orientation, now you were entering your senior year and you two managed to get stuck in a class together. Unfortunately, this was one of those seminar classes where you're made to work on the same project for the whole year with the same partner.

You've heard from some of the other people in your major that she's a notorious slacker, the kind of person who always just skates by, a real "C's get degrees" kind of gal. Normally, you wouldn't care about this, but because you're grade is on the line here, too, you were fuming at the thought of her just making you do the whole assignment by yourself.

You were going to set her straight. One way or another, she was going to pull her weight in this project.

You decided to invite her back to your dorm to brainstorm ideas, but you already had one. You just needed to wait for the inevitable.

The two of you sat down at your too small kitchen table and stared at your laptop screens.

You both affixed your gaze on a blank Google Doc simply titled "Ideas."

Well, you did. She just had it open and was instead focused on her phone. Now was your chance:

"So, any ideas you think could be interesting for the-"

She raises a finger to you, "I'm gonna stop you there. I know you're, like, way smarter than me, so you can just do it and I'll, like, make the PowerPoint pretty in the end. Okay? Just do whatever you want, we can, like, meet up for 15, or like 20 minutes every couple of days to make it look like we're working, but beyond that I don't care."

"Okay, but why do you have to look like you're working? It's not like we're being checked on."

"You might not be, but I am. These stupid professors have me on academic probation, so they need to know where I am all the time," she groaned.

"Got it." You knew the answer already, of course. Gossip is common throughout the school about the pretty little rich girl who always manages to come out on top.

"Yeah, so just do whatever you want," she said with a dismissing wave.

You nodded, covering your mouth with your hand, hiding a grin that cartoon supervillains would be jealous of. You clicked open a new tab with a fully set up paper outline and data collection page. This was going to be the perfect paper. You called it, "Creating a Hucow: How Lactation Supplements and Subliminal Messaging Can Turn Anyone into a Ditzy Cow."

Of course you needed IRB approval for this, but based on your partner's nonchalance and overall dismissive nature, you could surely get her to sign all the papers you needed without her ever noticing what she was agreeing to.

So, off you went. For months, you slowly dosed her up with lactation supplements, offering to pick up her Starbucks and spiking it before each 20 minute meeting. You'd talk to her about how gorgeous she'd look in cow print, how soft her skin looked. After a month, she was letting you give her hand and shoulder massages. After two months, you were able to comment to her about how heavy her breasts looked, how tight her clothes had gotten, and how the cow print would help to hide it well. She started to let you grope her under the guise of "just holding them up to help her back." Each time she let you do this, you slowly introduced nipple stimulation. Then the day came.

It was month three and she was practically putty in your hands. But there was still work to do, and you knew just how to get the next phase started:

"Hey, you know, during some of my research for this stupid paper, I found that breast pumping, like the stuff new moms do, can really help ease the pain in your tits."

"Really? I never, like, ever heard that before."

"No, it's true! Here, I knew you were having a rough time, and I don't wanna see you suffer, so I bought you one," you say presenting the best pump to her, "Wanna try it out? I can get it hooked up for you."

She looked at you, puzzled, maybe moreso tentative. There was a long pause as she examined the device, "Okay. What not."

Success.

You peeled off her shirt, and hooked her up to the little pump. After only a few seconds, milk started to leak from her nipples into the machine.

"Oh my god! What the hell? Why am I-"

You shush her, cutting her off, "Don't worry, it's normal. Sometimes this just happens to girls with big tits like yours. It's the price to pay for beauty like that. But don't worry, I'm here to help."

"Okay, if you say so," her voice trailed off, it's the most concerned she's sounded throughout this whole process. You'd be sure to note that down. "But okay, I trust you. Thank you for helping me."

"Any time."

With that, you convinced her to come over more often, twice a day for an hour each session. Each time you'd pump her, you'd touch her breasts, rub her thighs. She moaned at the mear sight of your hands now.

By month four, she would come to your dorm and stop down to nothing but a micro cow-print bikini, which she now wore under her ensemble of cow-print clothes each day, and her cow bell collar. She'd then let you rip off her top and pump her. You'd run your pussy and your own breasts as you touched her, and she would beg for your touch all the time now.

It was month five now, and the semester was drawing to a close. She was a wet, milky mess the second she laid eyes on you. She would walk around on all fours, pumping her tits as she slurped up your wetness. Her favorite activity was rubbing your tits together.

She was the prettiest little experiment you ever saw.

And today was the day you'd tell her what you'd done to her. In front of the whole seminar class.

Your class' collective jaw dropped the second you walked in with her on a leash, walking on all fours in her micro bikini, leaking milk down her swollen tits.

You began your presentation:

"This semester, I turned my partner, with her consent, of course, into a hucow. Here's how I did it."

You spent your presentation detailing every step in your manipulative process, and not once did her face drop that ditzy smile it had. All she did was nod, smile and beg to be touched by you throughout your presentation.

As your presentation drew to a close, now was the time to ask your coveted question: "Alright, cow, here's my final question for this study, okay?"

She nodded fast.

"Knowing what you do now about what I did to you and how, are you mad, and do you regret what you've become?"

Without missing a beat, she chirps, "Absolutely not! I'm so happy being your dumb cow! I just wanna be your little milky toy forever! Please may I be your toy?"

You look at your classmates and smile, "Why yes, yes you can."

She jumps up from the floor and kisses you, groping your tits in front of the class.

You had made the perfect bimbo cow and proved that it was a more than satisfactory existence. This was the life.

[guppygiggles]

Let's Get Physical!

What: Tickle fluff with a dash of mild hurt/comfort.

Word count: ~2.3k

Universe: Sea & Sky AU

Who: Avery, Casper, Finnegan.

Description: Avery gives Finnegan a physical. Emotional bonding and cuddling between the three of them. Just a little oneshot with a bit of tickling for everyone!

Friday afternoon couldn't have come soon enough.

As I made the short trek home from the bank, my eyes trained on the lighthouse as it stood tall against the afternoon sky. After glaring at my computer screen and paperwork for eight hours, it was a relief to stare at something beautiful and distant. I rolled my tired shoulders, wincing in pain as I did. Maybe I could talk Avery into giving me one of his expert massages… Not that I deserved it, I thought, after how neglectful I’d been him and Finn all week. I frowned, remembering how many times I'd fallen asleep watching TV with them -- I definitely needed to make up for lost time this weekend. I shuffled up the stone steps and turned the lighthouse’s antique doorknob, wiping my feet on the strawberry-print mat as I entered.

“Caspeheher! Hehehehelp!”

No sooner had I walked through the door – key still in-hand – than my arms were full of triton as Finn crashed into me, nearly knocking us both over. He squeezed me as if he hadn't seen me in weeks, giggling as he nuzzled his face into my neck. With some effort, I deposited my keys and wallet into the plastic tray and shuffled out of my shoes, just in time to watch Avery appear in the foyer. He was grinning in that characteristic, long-suffering way of his as he shook his head.

“What are you doing to this fish?” I asked, chuckling as Finn scrambled out of my arms and hid behind me.

“Well, I was just trying to give him a routine physical,” Avery replied, “but as you can see, it isn't going well.”

“He’s lying!” Finn protested, laughter riding beneath his words. “He was tickling me!”

I quirked an eyebrow at Avery, who rolled his eyes upward, offering a sheepish grin-and-shrug combo that told me everything I needed to know. For the first time that day, I giggled.

“Do you need an assistant to help with this patient, Dr. Nimbus?” I asked playfully, reaching back to pinch Finn's side without taking my eyes off the cloudman, eliciting a ticklish squeal.

“Why, yes! Thank you for offering, I believe that would be quite helpful!”

“What?! You traitor!” Before I could snatch him, Finnegan darted past me and was scampering back up the stairs with a gleeful laugh. I wondered why Avery didn't stop him… until the elemental floated gracefully over to me, pulling me into a deep and comprehensive embrace. I sighed with relief, my eyes automatically closing as I laid my head on his chest, listening to the quiet storm inside his body. Bergamot and old paper wrapped around my olfactory nerve like a warm blanket – I was finally home.

“Hi, dewdrop.”

“Hey, peach.”

“How was your day?”

“Tiring… This audit is wearing me out. I'm really sorry I haven't been much fun to be around this week… I promise I'll make it up to you and Finny.”

“You know you don't have to apologize for that, sweetheart. We're both so proud of how hard you work, and we understand when you're tired.” Avery's large, soft hand stroked my upper back. As it did, I felt his fingers get curious around my shoulders, pressing and palpating my achy muscles. I flinched through a cocktail of ticklishness and pain. “Oh, oh… Sorry, did that hurt? My goodness, you are tense. You've been hunching over your desk again, haven't you?”

I blushed a little. No matter how many times Avery tried to correct my posture, I always fell back into old habits as soon as work got too stressful.

“Aheh… Maybe a little… Sorry.”

“Oh, Casper… Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he chided, his touch turning softer and playing around my shoulders and neck, making me laugh and squirm.

“Ehehe~! Okay, I'll- ahaha! I'll w-work on ihihhihit!”

“You'd better, or you'll be in for a much more serious tickling than this!” Avery teased, continuing to tickle a bit more before stopping, his eyes tender as he looked at me. “Really, though… I'll give you a nice massage later, okay? I don't want you to be in pain.”

I felt my ears flush as I turned my attention to the foyer wall, my mind wandering to Avery's cool, pillowy doctor's hands coated in massage oil, squeezing and kneading my bare shoulders…

I cleared my throat, meeting his eyes only briefly, as if staring too long would allow him to read my mind.

“Don't we have a fish to torment?”

“Ah, yes! I'm sure he's up there getting impatient… which makes me worry for the state of our home. Shall we?”

He gestured to the stairwell. I took a step forward, then halted, eyeing him warily.

“... After you.”

Avery grinned. “No, really. I insist.”

“You’re a doctor; such a title affords you the right to go first, don't you think? Please permit me to offer this token of my respect.”

I watched him try not to laugh. So was I, but I was better at it.

“...You flatter me. Very well, I'll lead on.”

I let Avery believe I wasn't going to do anything. I was certain that by the time we’d passed the halfway point, I'd convinced him of my innocence. Surely if I'd planned on doing something, I would've by then. Right?

Right…?

Wrong. With about ten steps in the winding staircase to go, I reached up and gave the elemental a quick scribbling along both of his sides. Avery gasped in surprise, followed by a flurry of defeated, yet joyful laughter.

“Oh, you cheeky little-”

Just like Finnegan had done to me earlier, I ducked under Avery's hands as he reached back to snatch me, clambering to pass him on the staircase. Unlike Finn, though… dodging Avery's hands didn't guarantee my safety, as a forceful gust of wind knocked me backwards and right into his arms. I screeched with laughter as he lifted and tossed me like a sack of potatoes over his soft shoulder, my legs kicking as he easily carried me the rest of the way.

“Oh, no you don't,” he admonished, reaching up to tweak the crease at the top of my thigh with his thumb and forefinger. Panicked laughter filled the living room we now stood in as I thrashed, but none of my wriggling did any good; he was simply too strong. Avery chuckled as he gently pinched, forcing a torrent of squealing, frantic laughter from me, until he deposited me carefully on the couch.

“Did you know I was going to do that?” I asked, still giggling.

“I had a suspicion… but I will concede that you lulled me into a false sense of security.”

“Yessss!” I cheered, earning another lighthearted glare as he reached down with both hands, quickly wiggling his fingers along my sides and belly. I curled into a ball on the couch, filling the room with my hysterical squawking as he tickled any spot he could reach.

“You might be a systems admin, but you moonlight as a troublemaker, don't you?”

“NOHOHOHOOO!”

“I think you doooo~” He lilted, worming his fingers under my arms, between my neck and shoulder, and any other ticklish creases I created with my defensive posture. I was still screeching as Finn appeared in the doorway.

“Don't worry, Casper, I'll save you!” His bare, webbed feet made a sound like a duck running as he charged Avery, who whirled on him before Finnegan had a chance to try anything, easily scooping the triton into his arms and nuzzling into him.

“EEEEEHEhehehee!” Finn laughed, his fingers squishing Avery’s soft head as the cloudman kissed his neck.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Avery tittered, taking a seat on the sofa beside me, Finn still in his arms. “Will you please let me finish your physical, brave warrior? I'm almost done, I promise... I just need to check your belly, now.”

Finn sighed dramatically, then sprawled across Avery's lap, adjusting his body such that his head rested on my thigh. I grinned down at him.

“Hi, Finny-Finn-Finn.” I swept his hair back and leaned down to kiss his forehead. The warmth of his scales was always a bit of a surprise, especially compared to Avery's chilly skin.

I was expecting Avery to go in for the kill, but as I watched him methodically inspect Finn's abdomen, I realized he was conducting a legitimate physical. He gently pressed and palpated the softer scales of his belly as he used his free arm to keep the merman’s squirmy legs still. Finn giggled, and I couldn't blame him; I'd been on the receiving end of plenty of physicals from Avery, too, and I knew those fingers tickled no matter how professional he tried to be. In the back of my mind, I knew it was likely a conflict of interest for Avery to treat us… but since he was the only doctor in Port Oleander – and more importantly, one of the few on land who could treat merfolk – I supposed an exception had been permitted.

“Does any of this hurt, Finn? Has your belly been hurting at all, lately?”

“N-no, it's not hurting. Uhm… my belly hurt last night, after dinner, though…” He admitted.

I frowned, unable to recall him saying anything about a stomach ache. Last night had been my turn to cook. I wasn't a great cook to begin with, and admittedly… it was difficult to prepare meals that both Finnegan and Avery could eat; the elemental couldn't digest any food that was too dry, and Finn’s rainbow trout biology was primarily carnivorous. Soups, stews, and curries were common in our house – dinner last night had been red curry with chicken.

“What kind of hurt? Was it stabbing, dull, hot, achy…?” Avery asked, concerned.

“Hot, especially when I was laying down in bed.” Finn looked away from me. Avery and I exchanged a glance.

“I'm sorry, Finn… I probably made it too spicy. I won't make that again. Why didn't you say anything? I would've gotten you some medicine to help you feel better.” I stroked Finn's hair back again, my face etched with guilt. Now that I was thinking back to the previous night, he had seemed more quiet than usual… but I had been too tired to comment on it, chalking it up to him being tired, too. I kicked myself; Finn was never tired. The only time the triton lacked energy was in the five – maybe ten – minutes wherein he would go from bouncing off the walls to being dead asleep. Had I been more observant, I would've realized that.

Finnegan's eyes were serious as he looked back at me, an expression that seemed foreign on his gamine face. He looked away again, though, as he started to speak.

“It's just… you've been working so hard this week, Caspy, and I didn't want to hurt your feelings or make you worry about me.”

I couldn't bring myself to meet Avery's eyes again as an arrow of regret pierced my heart. I really had been disconnected from them all week.

“Finn… nothing is more important to me than you and Avery, okay? I’m sorry I've been so busy this week, I should've paid more attention to how you were feeling. Please don't suffer in silence again, okay? If your tummy hurts – or anything hurts – please promise you'll tell us from now on.”

Finn's tail swished uncomfortably… but he managed a smile, looking up at me again.

“Okay, I'll tell you from now on… I promise.” He shifted his gaze to Avery, whose hands were still resting on his scaly belly. “Am I done, now?”

It occured to me then that the part of the physical Finnegan disliked wasn't the tickling, it was staying still. Avery's concerned expression relaxed; a rainbow after a storm.

“Yes! You're a very healthy fish, Finn. Just keep remembering to soak in the tub at least once a day when you can't go swimming, so your gills stay healthy and your scales don't dry out.”

“Okay!” He was already off the couch, stretching his arms over his head and swishing his tail, as if laying across our laps for ten minutes had made him stiff. I shook my head, grinning. “I'll go for a swim right now, actually! Love you, Caspy! Love you, Avery! Bye, bye, bye, bye!” Each ‘bye’ grew progressively quieter as he descended the stairs, tail thumping clumsily the whole way down.

Once he was out of earshot, I looked down at my hands.

“I feel so bad… he got sick because of me, and he didn't even say anything.”

Avery shifted, pulling me into his arms again. I rested against his soft, cool body.

“He got a bit of a tummy ache from eating something too spicy, not an incurable disease, hehe. You won't make that dish again, and he'll tell you next time something doesn't agree with him. No need to worry yourself sick, okay? Life is unpredictable and stressful, sometimes… but we're your family, Casper. We understand.”

I snuggled against Avery's side as he held me, my throat constricting as he said the last few words. He looked down at me, and then I felt my favorite little tickle under my chin, coaxing me to look at him.

“Now… I believe I need to tend to my other patient, hm? Why don't we start your weekend with a little physical therapy on those shoulders? I swear, you're wound up tighter than an eight day clock.” He brought me up with him as he stood, strong arms carrying me bridal-style in the direction of the bedroom, giving me no room to protest.

Not that I would have. My fingertips fiddled with the collar of his shirt, the ghost of a coy smile dancing across my lips.

“Alright, doctor… but you'll have to let me return the favor, afterwards. After all, I've got a whole week's worth of lost time to make up for. Think you can handle that much…?”

The shade of cerulean that rose in his cheeks told me he caught my meaning, and I watched his wisp of surprise turn into a bashful giggle.

“Can't wait, dewdrop.”

[sapphicforsarahh]

best hands i've ever seen

ship: loubbie x fem!reader

word count: 800+

warnings: dom!loubbie x sub!reader, no smut (yet), dom and sub themes, sexting

synopsis: debbie and lou are looking for a new crew mate for the newest heist plan, that's when you catch their eye.

A/N: let me know what you think of this and whether you'd like a second part!

"Deb, I'm telling you, this girl has some of the best hands I've seen," she whispers to her wife. Both of them watch as you perform magic tricks to people who are stupid enough to fall for them. "Look, watch this," Lou leans forwards from her chair and watches you attentively. Your hands cleverly moved to show the participants correct cards. As they looked at their friends in shock and awe, you confidently slip the gold engagement ring, decorated with a diamond, off this woman's finger and secretively slip it into your pocket, without a single one of them realising.

"Not too bad," Debbie agrees and Lou smirks in return. "A pretty girl too," Lou adds, Debbie hums in agreement. After the bystanders had walked off, it was just you left with Debbie and Lou in the distance. "What do you say Deb?", Lou tries to convince Debbie to consider you, knowing their could be other benefits of having you on the team. "Sure," Debbie says a bit more easily than Lou would've thought. Without another word, Debbie stands up, Lou quick to follow her and the couple begin to approach you.

You're sitting on your bucket, counting your previously 'earned' dollars when you hear an Australian voice grab your attention. "Hey, can I hel-", you look up to see the older couple. Jesus, were they beautiful. All the thoughts in your head disappeared and you somehow managed to mumble out, "is there anything I can do for you ladies?". Debbie chuckles out, "we've got a charmer here."

One of the women stood with a dark, grey trench coat that pretty much hid her entirely black outfit, but still managed for her stiletto heels to stick out. The other, a blonde, stood taller with a sophisticated yet sexy leopard print coat. The dark, green lapels of her blazer were peeking through and you noticed her chest and hands were complimented by stacks of jewellery, most likely 24 carat gold.

"Me and my wife here noticed how skillful you are with your hands," Debbie started, taking off her shades and looking down at you with alluring deep, brown eyes. "We were wondering, if you could help us with something?" Lou added, also taking off her sunglasses, her eyes juxtaposed with her wife, as she met your gaze with light, blue ones.

You clear your throat with anxiousness, wondering what these women had proposed to you. "Uh, what is it?", you finally plucked up the courage to ask. "Come with us sweetheart, we'll explain everything," Lou said, placing her fingertips on your chin, making the power dynamic even greater.

You nod obediently, not wanting to upset these clearly powerful women. Debbie and Lou stand to the side whilst they watch you collect your things. "She's obedient isn't she," Lou chuckled, grabbing onto the lower of her wife's back. "Always a good thing, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Debbie looks at her wife with a raised brow, knowing her full intentions with this girl. As Lou was going to answer, you walked over with your bag on your back and ready to follow these women to wherever they were taking you.

"Let's get going, I bet you're eager to find out what we want, aren't you sweet girl?", Lou teases, walking forward and placing her hand on your back. "Yeah," you managed to squeak out, before the the two women pushed you into the taxi. Debbie sat in the front, whilst Lou got in the back with you. You tried to distract yourself by looking outside the window but you just couldn't concentrate on anything else apart from the insanely good-looking blonde next to you. Finally, you decide to stare at your feet and choose that as the safest option. The sound of Lou's ruffling coat caught your attention but you didn't look up. She took her phone from her pocket and looked at the notification from Debbie.

| Debbie: finish what you were going to say earlier love x.

You silently watch Lou smirk and quickly text back:

| Lou: i was going to say she’d be a good toy x.

she listened to every word we said without questioning it, we could break her in no time x.

Your eyes widened in shock at how these two women were talking about you. I mean would you really want that? Maybe you would!

| Debbie: good call baby, we'll discuss when we're back home x speaking of, i need you to take care of me once we're back i need you so badly honey x

You really try hard to hold back any reaction to the obvious sexting that's occurring in the back of this taxi, and it must've worked because all you hear is a small groan from Lou before she put her phone away.

-------

Taglist: @mllkw33ds @isle-of-earle @chillinftladygaga @cordeliaswife @angelick1sses @gmtsu @thenazwife @ladysc @midnightlove30 @blanchettlovebot

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 15

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Your alarm wakes you at the usual time. You're still achy but functioning. At first, you're disoriented, still unused to your new, albeit, temporary home. You rub your hips and stand, groaning as you find the muscles in your back looser than usual.

You sift through the bag of clothes Lloyd got for you and pull on the thin blue robe with white lilies. The hallway is silent as you listen through the door, unsure what to do next. You need to start your day, you can't miss any more work.

You emerge quietly and tiptoe downstairs. You make your way to the kitchen, its high ceiling making it feel even larger. You near the silver coffee machine on the sleek white counter and examine the many buttons

You find a bag of coffee in the cupboards and measure out the overpriced grinds. You'll have to do some shopping on your way home, you'd hate to take what isn't yours. It won't hurt to keep a list of what you owe.

You set the machine to grind and leave it. The coffee will be enough to get you out the door. You go back upstairs and find an outfit to wear to work; a pair of burgundy capris and a fluttery sleeved tee shirt with a watermelon print.

You take your time in the bathroom cleaning up. The odds and ends Lloyd gathered for you don't really help much, you at least have a tooth brush and your comb. You finish up and wonder if you might not be able to barter a few more things from Johnny. Just the thought of seeing him makes you nervous. Maybe not, probably best to just start over.

You still can't believe it's over. There's a gnawing in your chest that says it doesn't have to be. That sore spot in your cheek quickly chases it away. No, he hit you. You always said you wouldn't stay with any man who would do that.

You return to the kitchen, the aroma of coffee luring you back. Lloyd surprises you as he stands at the counter, pouring a cup as a satin robe hangs from his shoulders. He turns and you gasp at the open front. He's shamelessly half-hard as he faces you and takes a deep gulp.

"Uh, morning," you keep your eyes on his face.

"Mmm, good coffee," he grits through his dry throat.

"Good to hear," you chime and cross to the counter, taking down a mug of your own and filling it. "I'll buy you more to make up for what I used--"

"Don't bother," he grumbles as he rubs his eye socket, "we have our arrangement."

You hesitate and wet your mouth with a taste of the coffee. You look across the kitchen rather than at him. You swallow, "is that... I don't know if--"

"Look around, hot stuff, I don't need money or an extra bag off coffee," he scoffs, "and what I want, you can give me."

"Mm," you clamp your lips together, "well, I'm just going to finish this and go to work," you lift your mug, "I'll have to figure out how long the commute is so I can get back into it."

"Right. So responsible," he sneers, "I somehow respect it and despise it."

You look at him as he turns to you. His robe ripples as you see him bobbing at the bottom of your vision. You put your mug down and grab his robe, closing it and tying the belt snugly.

"Chilly in here," you say.

"Really?" He arches a brow.

"Like I said, work."

"What time?"

"Should be there for eight--"

"No, what time are you getting back?"

"I... probably five or--"

"Right, you walk in and I want you naked before you get to your room."

"Hmm?" You blanch.

"I'm gonna be carrying around these blue balls all day waiting so don't fuck around," he points at you, "now say 'thank you.'"

"Thank you? For?"

"For not bending you over right now," he says as if it's obvious, "I'm not a patient man, but damn if the pussy isn't worth the wait."

You squint and step back, picking your cup up again, "do you always have to be so... crass?"

"Well, honey cunt, that's who I am. The double L is for Long and loud. I'm sure you can confirm the veracity of that," he winks.

You have to keep from letting out a disgusted noise, instead draining half your cup. You are entirely unprepared for any of this, most of all him. Somehow, you know the day isn't going to go any faster knowing he's waiting on you to get back.

🍑

The normalcy of work welcomes you back. The little problems of the kids and the demands of finicky parents at drop-off keeps you on your toes. It's almost enough to make you forget all the turmoil of your after hours existence.

You sit with the kids for pick up and see them off one by one. Carol helps tidy up the play area as you go through the closing list. Naptime and the end of the day are the only quiet moments you get in this place.

You say goodbye to your coworkers and break off from Nina as you go to your own car. You throw your bagbin the passenger's seat and start the engine, reversing out and slowly pulling onto the street. You steer out onto the adjoining avenue but have to keep from taking your usual route.

You grab your phone and look at your trip to work and hit reverse. You still need the extra help finding your way. You ignore the notifications from the unknown number in your inbox. Not hard to guess who.

You turn onto the next street and hear a woop as a siren flashes red in your rearview. Shit.

You pull over and stare in the side mirror. You know it's him before he even steps out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do you do? You see a few parents walking with wagons and kids on foot… witnesses.

You hit your messages and cringe at the sight that pop up with the first chat. Lloyd's recognizable even with his head out of frame. Alright, that's the last thing you're thinking of.

You hit the little phone icon in the corner and let it dial as you lock the screen. You drop it on the seat and roll down your window as Johnny approaches. You reach over to find your insurance and license.

"You know why I pulled you over?" He bends to sneer above the window.

"N-no, officer," you murmur and hold out your license.

He wraps his hand around yours and squeezes until you whimper. You try to pull away but he clings to you, "this isn't fucking over."

You gulp, fighting to wriggle free. He's too strong. You whine, "please, Johnny–"

"That's Officer Storm," he snarls as he lets you go, "saw you on your phone. That's a fine." He checks out your license and insurance, "let me run this."

"You know you don't have to do that–"

"Shut the fuck up," he barks and puts his hand on the handle of his nightstick, "don't start resisting. That's obstruction."

You snap your mouth shut and sit back, "okay, sir."

You lower your head as he struts away with a laugh. You cautiously tilt your phone a light up the screen, you see the call time ticking. You hope Lloyd is listening, and if he is, you pray he'll do something.

[roleplay-evil]

Ada Wong Starters

Requested by anon. From Resident Evil 2 (1998/2019), Resident Evil 4 (2005/2023), Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles, Resident Evil: The Darkside Chronicles, Resident Evil: Damnation, and Resident Evil 6.

"Hey, [name]... trust me?"

"That's my problem, not yours."

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I really wanted to escape with you... escape from everything... Goodbye..."

"I really hoped it wouldn't end up like this."

"You'll be in danger if you decide to stay with me."

"This is getting old... saving your ass—that's twice."

"Time to save the day again. Poor little [name]. How the monsters love to chase you."

"Didn't realize we were keeping score."

"That's no way to finish a dance."

"I had a feeling our partnership would last a little while longer."

"By the way... when are we going to carry on from where we left off that night?"

"I know I'm not capable of caring about anyone, but... I don't want to lose you."

"You're losing a lot of blood. Don't move, I gotta remove the bullet."

"I'll only slow you down with these injuries. Go... Save yourself."

"[name], it's over. Just let me go."

"[name], look at me... I'm a liability now."

"Don't push it, rookie."

"I see you've been doing your homework."

"Hate to break it to you, but you're nothing but a cheap knockoff at best."

"[name]... I'm sorry, but I can't be seen with you."

"I'm working. Don't worry about it."

"Look, I'm just doing my job."

"A job, huh? Sure, my schedule just cleared."

"I'm just here to lend them a hand."

"I'm just here to find out what you're up to."

"Sorry, [name]. Hand it over."

"[name] has information regarding this crisis."

"It's just me, so you can put that thing away."

"It's secret weapon time."

"Chainsaw, huh? How elegant."

"Wouldn't mind one of those for myself."

"Looks like we have the upper hand here."

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of it."

"I'll leave that to your imagination."

"Alright. We'll do this your way. For now."

"This may be a one way ride, so be prepared, [name]."

"There are some things in the world better off not knowing. This is one of them."

"This city needs to fix its streets."

"Nothing dies down here."

"Stay sharp. God only knows what's down here."

"Think about where you are before you shoot. I mean, really."

"Look, this isn't a game!"

"Easier said than done."

"Can't say I didn't warn you."

"I know the day I stop being useful is the day I am disposed of."

"You don't understand, the situation's worse than I thought."

"I didn't expect to get into this place so easily."

"Let's just get out of here. The sooner, the better."

"So... you're caught up in this too. Hope you have the stomach for it."

"Need a ride, handsome?"

"Don't die, [name]. I owe you."

"Well, that was a pain in the ass."

"Don't tell me you're still crying. They're trying to kill you."

"Do yourself a favor: stop asking questions and get the hell out of here."

"I told you to get out here. You wouldn't want to end up like [name], would you?"

"Maybe you forgot, [name]. I don't always play by your rules."

"Always been good at running, [name]. I'll give you that."

"Enough with this cat-and-mouse game!"

"Here's a thought, how about you show yourself and ask me to my face?"

"I suppose I could go introduce myself, but I don't want to fall behind schedule."

"Quick, but predictable."

"You never did have taste."

"Yep, still gross."

"You're a strange one."

"Don't think too hard, handsome."

"I'm just a [gender identity] who fell in love with you. Nothing more."

"It's strange. I barely know you, but I knew you'd say that..."

"I know I've only known you for a short period, but I really enjoy being with you."

"You're angry with me, aren't you? Suits you."

"You've got my prints on file? You're not playing around, are you?"

"I have no intention of paying for crimes I'm not guilty of."

"Bravo... Gonna burn me alive now?"

"Can't you leave a girl alone?"

"If that doesn't stop you, what will?"

[totowlff]

a thirsty tuesday

➝ producing content for mercedes' social media is always a challenge, especially given the demand. however, having a desired boss is always a good asset.

➝ word count: 1,8k

➝ warnings: implied sexual acts, a lot of second-hand embarassment, boss-employee dynamics

➝ author’s note: well, it's been a long time since i was last here. unfortunately, i didn't have more time to dedicate myself the way i would like to my stories. however, i feel stronger and safer to come back here and continue writing. i hope you still want to read it.

— Y/N, this is completely ridiculous — Toto said, looking up from the sheet in his hand towards your face. His expression was serious, skepticism written in the way he raised his eyebrows at you.

You gave a smile, feeling a little embarrassed to be presenting that content idea to him. After recording a video analyzing the most striking images of the ten years he was at the head of the team, the idea was that he would react to some tweets that the marketing team had selected.

In this case, you.

— That's what our audience cares about, Toto.

— Are you serious? They want to see me reading — he hesitated, looking down at the paper again — Thirsty tweets?

— Sure, why do you think I would suggest that?

Toto sighed. He was definitely upset.

— I could fire you, you know? — the team principal murmured, the shadow of a smile on his face.

— You would never do that — you replied, full of confidence.

 — How can you be so sure?

— Because, without me, you only speak bullshit.

He laughed. That was an indisputable fact: without you by his side, Toto simply lost his filters, especially in front of the microphones. The images of you elbowing the team principal in the arm when he started a sentence that would probably generate thousands of clicks on specialized sites, as well as rude responses from other team bosses.

— Okay, you got a good point — Toto said, crossing his arms. Your eyes flickered for a few seconds to the veins that were prominent over his skin, before looking into his brown eyes again.

— So, let’s do it?

— Yeah. But if you have any bullshit…

— Toto, anything that isn't business or lap times is classified as bullshit for you.

— Well, bigger bullshit. I don't want my kids to see this and think I'm weird.

— It's easier for them to think the people who wrote these stuff weird — you muttered, as you took the sheet from his hand. Toto raised a suspicious eyebrow.

— Now I'm really worried about doing this, Y/N.

— It's going to be alright, now, sit there and just be a lovely person.

— I'm always a lovely person.

— Yeah, Christian Horner agrees with you — you said, laughing, as you walked to Stephen's side, who looked less than pleased with the camera angle. After requesting changes and having Toto sit on a bench so that half of his head wasn't cut off in the image, you handed over the sheets of printed tweets, asking him not to peek at the tweets.

— What if I peek?

— You’ll ruin everyone's recording day — you replied.

— That would be a shame — he muttered, giving her a mischievous little smile.

— Indeed. But I'm sure you'll be a good boy.

You had the impression that Toto had blushed, but you didn't have time to point that out before Stephen asked you to leave the set to start filming. After a few more instructions, he signaled that he was recording.

— Hi, I'm Toto Wolff and today, I'm going to read… What is it again?

— Thirsty tweets — you said, rolling your eyes.

— Oh yeah, thirsty tweets — he said, grinning at the camera. The image caused something strange to spread inside your chest.

After repeating the take twice more, Toto finally caught the first tweet, reading it silently for a few seconds, eyes widening.

— Out loud, Toto.

— I'm not going to read this, Y/N.

— You will — you yelled, from behind the camera.

— But it's ridiculous — he exclaimed.

— You said you'd read it, you'll read it.

Sighing, the team principal paused for a few seconds before reading what was on the sheet.

— "I don't even know how, but I want to suck Toto Wolff's arms".

— What do you think?

— Well, ridiculous.

— People like your arms — you said — Doesn't it make you happy?

— They’re arms.

— But they are pretty arms.

He blinked.

— Do you think my arms are pretty? — Toto questioned.

Your face heated up. You definitely weren't ready for that question.

— Doesn't matter, go to the next one.

He chuckled before looking down at the sheet in his hands.

— “Toto Wolff could come up to me, punch me in the face for any reason and, honestly, I would probably apologize to him” — Toto read, looking up at you — Well, I would never hit anyone, so I'm really sorry.

— Not even if they asked? — you asked in a teasing tone.

— I'm too polite a man for that.

— Too bad — you laughed — Next.

— “I would call Toto Wolff daddy in front of my own dad”. I just hope my kids never do this, it must be extremely embarrassing.

You couldn't hold back a laugh at that comment.

— I thought you didn't want them to watch this video.

— And they won't watch it, I'm sure of it — Toto replied, laughing — Imagine them watching their father reading things like “I'd let Toto break my back like a glowstick”?

— I would think it's cool. In fact, I'm thinking it's cool.

— Of course you do, you chose these tweets.

— Could you go on? — you asked, making him move on to the next sheet.

— “Me: I watch Drive To Survive for the content. The content: Toto Wolff”. We can't deny that I bring content to this series, can we?

— So much content that I spent almost a month listening to people asking me to change my car if I had a problem with it.

— Did Checo say it was fucked? — he asked with a mischievous smile.

— I think I'm going to have to speak to my drivers about that — you replied, chuckling — Go on to the next one.

— “I want my juice box to be Toto Wolff's new pillow” — he read, raising an eyebrow — But what's a juice box?

— Vagina — Stephen muttered, before realizing everyone was staring at him, Toto with a particularly shocked expression — What? I lived in the States, they say that, is a slang.

— Okay, I really didn't expect that — the team principal muttered — Did you know that, Y/N?

— No — you replied, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Of course you knew what it meant, you weren't an idiot. Besides, you knew it was going to surprise him. You just didn't expect him to look so shocked — But, are you surprised?

— I didn't expect something so — Toto hesitated for a few seconds — Explicit.

— Then you'll love the next ones.

Passing the sheet, you noticed the team principal's face turn red.

— Y/N, I can't say that.

— You can, I checked with our legal team.

— Y/N…

— Read it now.

— “I want Toto Wolff to destroy my insides” — he said, before looking up at you — This is awful.

— Well, it's what you do to them.

Toto stared at the sheet for a few seconds.

— I'm feeling flattered right now — he said, in a sort of sarcastic way.

The film crew erupted in laughter as the team boss looked at you, who shook your head.

— Well, let's go on — he said, moving on to the next page — "Toto Wolff is so hot, I want to have his babies”. Unfortunately it won't be possible, I stopped at the second one. But if I may say so, both my children are very beautiful so I take great pride in that.

— Actually, Rosi is adorable.

— Thanks to her mom's genes — Toto answered you, before moving on to the next tweet — “My sexuality is Toto Wolff”. I'm pretty sure there's no TW in the LGBTQIA+ acronym, but…

— Maybe it's been updated? — you suggested.

— I need to talk to the Racing Pride people about this — he said, smiling — Well, I think that's the last one, “The best part of working at Mercedes is saying 'yes, sir' to Toto. I will not elaborate”.

You couldn't help but smile when he looked up at you.

— I believe there are other advantages to working at Mercedes, but I pride myself on being a good boss — Toto said, before ending the video with one of those smiles that made your chest warm.

While the crew set up the studio for the recording with Lewis, which would take place in half an hour, you and Toto headed back to his office. The team leader had already removed the microphone that was attached to his shirt and was reading something intently on the phone before handing it to you. Inside the room, he walked around the pale wood table and stopped beside the chair.

— It was kind of fun recording — Toto said, bringing his hands to his chest and undoing the top button of his shirt — I thought this thirsty tweets thing was going to be a lot worse.

Your eyes dropped to his fingers, which deftly parted the shirt, revealing the firm muscles beneath.

— Well, I'm glad you like it — you managed to reply, your mouth dry as the fabric slid down his arms. You had seen him topless before, but the feeling was always the same. The heat in your face, the tingling in your belly, the heavier heartbeat in your chest.

— But, I have a question about a thing — he continued, grabbing the baby blue shirt he was wearing before the shoot and putting it on — That last tweet…

— Yeah?

— Did you write it?

You swallowed hard.

— All tweets were posted by real users, Toto…

— But the last one is yours.

— Of course not…

— Y/N, you know I follow you, right?

You blinked, staring at the team leader in disbelief.

— You don’t have…

— Yes I do. I use it to observe things, see what people are saying, these things — Toto replied, while closing the last buttons of his shirt — I follow Lewis, George, Mick, Jonathan from engineering, Kawka and I followed your account recently. I recognized the profile picture even though it was blurry on the printed sheet.

— I apologize profusely about this, Toto…

He laughed.

— No problem, Y/N…

— It's completely inappropriate to say that kind of thing on the internet, and what's more, considering you read…

— Y/N, it's okay — he cut her off as he put on his blazer — You seem like a lot of fun outside the office.

— You think so?

  I do. Although I have a question about that tweet.

— What would it be?

— Would you mind elaborating on why that's the best part of your job?

You felt your cheeks heat up.

— Is like I’ve said, I won't elaborate, Toto.

— Not even at dinner this Friday?

Your mind short-circuited, your mouth opening slightly.

You were sure this was a hallucination.

— Are you asking me out?

— Yeah — he replied, his voice full of confidence — What do you think?

“Yes, say yes, yes!”, someone screamed in the back of your mind, while you stared at him.

— With a condition.

— Which is?

— No pizza — you said — Every time we have dinner, you insist on having pizza and still complain about my order.

— Of course, you like that atrocity with pineapple…

— Just don't eat.

— It's still disgusting, Y/N — he said — But, okay, no pizza. Do you accept?

— Yeah, sure — you answered, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

[peri-peri-sauce]

The way you're saying he hasn't put an effort and hasn't given us anything gives me the icks. 😬 As a person who's been 15+ of his gigs within the latest year I can say I've never left from a single gig unsatisfied. Completely the opposite, he's always made me happy. He gives his all on the gigs and makes sure people are having a great time. You can never predict what kind of gig you can expect, they're all unique.

What comes to his music he's released 4 new songs within a year and the 5th one is coming. And there has been promo videos already, more is propably coming.

And about the album; he's been extremely overworked since the ESC. He's been doing a huge amount of gigs. He needs to have a little holiday in between so he won't burn himself out.

Then there's the content behind the paywall. This is his work, his career. He needs to make money of it. Nobody is forced to buy anything. And what's wrong with all the content he's giving us for free? Many artists don't even do that.

Besides, do you think he's personally designing his merch, ad campaingns or anything extra going around him? No, his job is to focus giving us entertaining shows and good music. And he's succeeded perfectly in that. 💚

Thank you for sharing your opinion on this, it's really helpful for me to see other perspectives and hear other people's thoughts. I just want to comment on a few things.

It's true that he gives his all at the gigs and makes them special and unique, but something that has been bothering me is hearing the same 15 songs all the time. Don't get me wrong, I always have a blast at his gigs, but I wouldn't mind if he added a few older songs to the setlist or songs he hasn't performed many times.

That said, I also wanted to mention that I was a bit confused about why he hasn't been performing Sex = Money on the Eurotour, like he did with Huhhahhei last year. However, at the Cologne gig yesterday someone asked him about this and he said that his label isn't letting him perform it before it's released because people film it and upload it on YouTube. Honestly, I hadn't considered that this could happen and of course, I can't blame anyone but the label for it. I didn't realize his label had so much control over decisions like this, but now I do. It really makes me wonder how many other things he's not allowed to do regarding his album because of them...

And another thing I wanted to mention, I know he's not the one designing his merch and there's a team behind it, but I'm pretty sure he still has some influence over some choices. After all, it's his image being promoted, so you'd think he'd want to sell the best designs possible. I get that creating more elaborate designs costs money, but come on! He's literally selling shirts with boring prints for crazy prices. I'm sure some of that money could go towards hiring a better design team 🙄