#but has SO many more important things to do

[thebestsetter]

"Men used to go to war, now they..."

Isagi Yoichi

...follow you around like a lost puppy.

Need to cook something? Yoichi can help! (Not really, since he doesn't know batshit about cooking and burns everything he touches, but it's the thought that counts, right?) Are you going out? No problem! He's gonna sit put and still on the edge of your shared bed, watching with a fond look as you rummage through your wardrobe trying to find the perfect clothes to go out! (Even though he thinks all of them look perfect on you) Need help shopping? He's already holding all of your bags for you! (Even if he looks ridiculous holding so many bags, but he refuses to let you touch a single one of them). In the end, he's just a lovesick boy who loves acts of service and some good old quality time, so just let him follow you around, yeah?

Chigiri Hyoma

...gossip and do skincare with you.

He literally hates the girls you talk about without even meeting them in real life. Like, what do you mean that Penelope lady cheated on her husband because he was on a 20 days trip? Ridiculous.

Anyways, skincares are a must in your relationship. You guys do it everynight, and, when he's away (for soccer reasons), you facetime to do it. It became a little tradition: he calls you the night before an important game, askijg if you already treated your skin. Then, when you say that you didn't, his eyes visibly, clearly - and a little comically too - light up (even though he already knew the answer. It's the same one everytime. You never do it without him). After that, you both just talk and laugh, trying to calm his nerves down before the game. Most of the times, the call only ends when one of you end up falling asleep. It's honestly cute how comfortable you are with eachother.

He swears he plays better when you do that. His many hat tricks can confirm that.

Nagi seishiro

...can't sleep if it isn't on your lap.

He physically can't anymore, and it makes him pissed.

His sweet pillows that looked oh so comfortable before must as well feel like rocks right now, because NOTHING compares to the fluffiness of your lap mixed with you petting his head. He feels like he's in heaven everytime you do it. He HATES when he's travelling and has to sleep on a 5 star hotel's bed, because how is it SO uncomfortable?? What the heck??

And you can BET the first thing he does when he comes home after his soccef trips is sleep. For a long time. Like, "hibernating" kind of long. One time, you seriously thought he was dead. But it was just the effect your lap has on him. Deal with it.

Reo Mikage

... spend an unholy amount of money on you.

This isn't even surprising. I mean, it's Reo we're talking about: the boy who has more money than what to do with it. And his financial situation obviously reflects on your relationship.

Looked at that hair product for 0.2 seconds more than the last product you saw? He already bought it! Want ice cream? He'll have 4 scoops, please!

The thing is that he was taught money=love (especially by his parents, who tried to make up for their absence by giving him money), so that's what he thought would swoop you off your feet. But it wasn't. It was the tender moments, the gentle kisses on your knuckles, and the goals dedicated to you. So don't think he only gives you money - he gives you PLENTY of quality time too!

Perhaps a part 2 will be written

[applepixls]

Anyone else thinking about how odd the hermitcraft economy is?

in season 9 they had a minor economic recession after the diamond ore war because there were far too many diamonds in circulation making them (hypothetically) worth less than normal and ren stepped in as the king and did what has been done in the midst of a lot of irl economic depressions; he created a government so they could employ the policy of Keynesian economics (basically more gov't intervention to stabilize the economy, it mostly worked in 1930's japan!), he took control of diamonds and even introduced a new currency, royal emeralds (much like Germany after WW1! they had some hyperinflation because of the war reparations they had to pay and the gov't not understanding that printing more money makes the money worth less resulting in the mark [currency] being so worthless they started burning it because they couldn't afford wood for fires. a new gov't came into power and they replaced the mark with rentenmarks which did a lot of fixificating for the economy). Ren's gov't also introduced a lot of gov't funded projects like the quests (the irl equivalent for this would be Roosevelt's New Deal which introduced policies/projects called the Alphabet Agencies (among other things) such as the AAA, CCC, TVA (do you see why they're called the alphabet agencies?) that would adjust the value of grain so farmers could start earning money for produce again and create work that would support a growing economy, projects like building roads and bridges)

so basically, all the policies ren's government introduced were very logically sound and worked in real life to fix the economy (except that irl the Great Depression only fully ended because WW2 started-), the issue is that hermitcraft is not real life and hermits do not behave like real people, they behave like hermits.

lets start with the hermitcraft economy. unlike the real economy, hermits rarely adjust prices according to how many diamonds are "in circulation". i say this despite the fact grian in a recent-ish episode says that "everything costs more this season because diamonds are more common". that can't be true because the caves and cliffs update literally made diamonds more difficult to acquire. I will circle back to this point made by grian later

hermits not adjusting prices by server-wide abundance of diamonds (because they cant really know how much anyone has, much less the total amount of diamonds in circulation, they just know who has a lot and who is broke) means that more diamonds doesn't make them worth less like it did with German marks, it just means hermits have more expendable currency and can spend more money and less time gathering materials for projects. It is also notable that diamonds are constantly being added and taken out of circulation because they're an actual useful currency rather than real life currencies which are symbolic slips of paper. diamonds can be used for armour and tools and it can be acquired by mining. so because of how hermits spend money, taking diamonds out of the economy in s9 did nothing but make them poor and angry at the government. the hermitcraft economy is actually stronger with more diamonds in circulation and is worsened by gov't intervention.

so already the use of real life strategies is utterly useless in hermitcraft economy but there are a few other reasons as well

the hermits tendency to resist government as well as the flawed and greedy government itself are a couple but also the fact that all the hermits are self employed (in real life but also in universe). they own and stock their own shops meaning all profits are more or less direct; its not passed through hands of big corporations so the person producing the product gets mere cents. the hermits are essentially small business owners (which becomes a bit of a problem come season 10 but we're still talking about season 9). The important part is the self employment. the season 9 gov't introduces the quests which mimic and echo real life government funded projects but because they're all employed and the quests gave small amounts of diamonds back, they did very little for the hermits

I'm sure theres more to say but i think its time to move on to the very interesting season 10 economy

if you've missed it you must be living under a rock but hermits are all using permits this season meaning only one shop in the shopping district is selling any given item/material and as a result of this prices have gone sky high. at one point a single stack of mangrove logs cost 7 diamonds when in previous seasons you could get at least 1 stack of wood for 1 diamond if not more

So what is causing this economic depression and hyperinflation?

well, circling back to the point grian made about resources costing more because of abundance of diamonds, I would think it actually costs more because of the permits.

grian thinks the diamond prices are fair because he has middle of the road permits (and is one of the hermits who designed their shopping district, permit and economic system this season so he's biased), there is enough demand to keep him afloat when he's stocked but its nothing people are clamouring for and buying him out. on the other hand, joel made a lot of shops that no one shops at because his objectively weighted permits have not been selling as well as they anticipated when making the permits (also some people like etho and pearl have additional income from their not as fabulous permits because they've made a pay to play game to go with it) and finally there are hermits like mumbo whose gold, iron and item frame shops were constantly getting bought out so he was frustrated with trying to restock despite getting lots of profit

(another interesting dynamic to think about is permits like cleo's book permit which lost value as the season went on because everyone needed books early on but now that they're all playing late game Minecraft, everyone is pretty stocked up and buying from cleo less often)

Basically, grian is satisfied with the pricing because he's middle class and couldn't afford it if they were more expensive but appreciates not being constantly out of stock, joel is unsatisfied because he is lower class and never has enough expendable currency to fund his projects because materials are too expensive and his permits aren't worth enough to sell them for more, and mumbo is unsatisfied because he is higher class and is constantly out of stock because his materials sell out too often and he wants to sell them for more to stay in stock more (classic supply and demand, he doesn't want to stock them as often making the supply lower and the demand proportionally higher making them worth more and therefore more expensive)

the reason i say the permits are to blame for the high prices is because they cause the responsibility of constantly stocking something to fall on one person (in past seasons, if one persons sandstone shop was out of stock you could go check someone else's sandstone shop). the threat of taking the permit away if they arent stocked along with the difficulty of constantly stocking some of these materials raises the cost.

a great example of this is skizzleman because his mangrove and cherry wood shop was one of the first shops to be built in the shopping district, meaning he somewhat set the prices this season. now, mangrove and cherry are both difficult trees to harvest because of their unconventional shapes and the fact that they are more recent additions (and skizz's stubborn desire to design his own farms...) so because of the time required to gather them the prices already were hitched up. add that to the fact that they are trying to constantly be in stock and therefore low prices that allow hermits to completely buy out the shops are unfavourable, and you get sky rocket-ing prices. (it is also difficult because skizz had no prior experience with hermitcraft pricing)

in conclusion... hermitcraft needs a laissez-faire economy (f. a. hayek) to function and not go into economic depression. Between the nature of the diamond currency, hermits' tendency to rebel against governments, the way they use the concept of supply and demand to price their goods, and the restrictions permits put on supplying products, hermits have proven that extensive structure and government intervention have not improved economic wellbeing the way that it does in real life

thus, hermits do not behave like regular humans, they operate on fae laws of its funny so lets do it and therefore must be governed as such (aka not governed), thank you for coming to my ted talk

[readwritealldayallnight]

I am obsessed with your page and EQUALLY excited for part two to the coffee-place-stalker-fic !!!

I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could request Simon with a teacher!reader? Maybe he’s helping her with crafts for Valentine’s Day or hes back from deployment and surprises her at school?

Just something wholesome and fluffy?

Thank you🩷

“Well, what should we do-”

“It doesn’t look like he’s got anything with him-”

“Definitely not any parent I recognize-”

“Do we go into lockdown? Or safe school-”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong, I mean he’s just standing there-”

“Yes, but why is he standing there-”

“Hi ladies.” You murmur, walking into the staff room you notice a group of your coworkers huddled up around the window, peering intently outside at something

It’s not often that anything going on outside of the staff room during recess could be important enough to pull their attention away from the food they have 20 minutes to scarf down before they’re back to caring for other people offspring, those issues are precisely why the board hires lunch monitors

But apparently whatever is happening outside in the school parking lot is interesting enough to have nearly half a dozen of your colleagues poking their heads between the blinds to catch a glimpse, pre packed lunches and yesterdays leftovers forgotten

“There’s some weird man standing in the parking lot.” One of the younger teachers says, pulling the dusty blinds back for another not so subtle peek

“What’s he doing?” One of the schools educational assistants asks, having come in just behind you

“Nothing. Just standing there, this whole time.” The math teacher shrugs, never moving her eyes off the window

“Well how long’s he been out there?”

“Mrs Ashton says she first saw him almost a quarter of an hour ago, just before the bell rang.”

“We’re sure he’s not a parent?” One of the newer student teachers poses the question

“Well, no. But he certainly doesn’t like any of our parents.”

“He’s not done anything wrong, technically. Just odd that he’s lingering like that.”

“You don’t think the mask is odd as well?”

At that last remark from your colleagues, your head perks up, glancing towards the gaggle still gathered by the glass

“Has anyone told the vice principal yet? Maybe we should-”

“That’s aright, actually.” You say with a sigh, peering out the window for the first time and confirming your suspicions. “That one’s mine.”

You’re pulling your jacket tighter around yourself as the wind whips your hair all about, shaking your head in playful disbelief, but the smile stretching across your face cannot hide your delight in seeing him as you walk closer

“Okay, no more mask when you drop off my lunches from now on.” You tease, finally stepping near enough to see the slightly crinkled paper bag sat in the passenger seat of his truck

“Well maybe if someone didn’t forget her lunch, wouldn’t ’ave to be in this situation, would we?” He teases right back, both of you knowing very well that Simon lives for these small, mundane moments when he’s off from deployment, able to drop you off and pick you up from work, bring you lunches, have dinner ready when you get home, the small things that might seem tedious and boring to others, he lives for, knowing he gets to do them with you

“Well maybe if someone didn’t keep me in bed for an extra half hour this morning and had me rushing for work-”

“Don’t remember hearin’ many complaints this mornin’ about that extra half hour you spent bouncing on my c-”

The sound of the school bell ringing cuts him off, the both of you letting out small chuckles before you’re standing up on tip toes, reaching to give him a quick peck on the cheek over his mask, his large gloved hand giving your waist a slight squeeze before he tells you he’ll be around to pick you up soon as the dismissal bell goes off

You tell him that if he makes your favourite for dinner tonight, you might have dessert ready for him back in bed afterwards, an idea which the glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s more than okay with

You’re still grinning to yourself, walking back towards the front doors with your sack lunch held tightly in hand, when you send a quick wink to the now even larger crowd of colleagues watching you from the window

———

Thank you so much for the sweet words and the suggestion! I hope you’re okay with the way I took this lil prompt

I’m hoping to have stalker/fluff Simon posted by the end of the week, I’ve changed and edited that story more times than I can remember now, I just really want it right before it’s out there!

- M 🫶🏻

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Punish me.

Pairing: Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI Words count: 5853

Summary: What happens when your boss punishes you but you like it too much? You look for more. And more. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of Y/N, legal unspecified age gap, power imbalance, dom!Joel / sub!reader, degradation, oral (m receiving), spanking, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl), initially dub-con but reader is very into it, risk of being caught, a little chocking if you squint, cream pie, squirting, reader has no description other than the clothes she is wearing, manipulation, slurs, pet names, reader calls Joel "Sir". This Joel is low-key inspired by Don Draper from Mad Men and the whole thing was also low-key inspired by Secretary (2002). Let me know if I forgot something important, I will add it right away. A/N: Written for Never Have I Ever challenge hosted by the lovely @yxtkiwiyxt , this was my prompt and I had so much fun working on it! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to join! 🥰 Thanks to @aurorawritestoescape for being the most precious beta and @joelmillerisapunk for being the best support I could ask for and for letting me yap about it for a month and half lol I love you so much 🥹❤️ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any. Thanks to anyone who will read! masterlist | Joel Miller masterlist

“Mr Miller wants to see you in his office at 3” When Pam called you to say that a shiver ran down your spine.

Your last client was the owner of a large brewing company, a self-centered rich asshole that you couldn’t stomach in any way.

He had been pressing you for weeks for you to come up with the most sexist and stupidest ad campaign ever, all while you were trying to present him with new ideas that didn't necessarily include 10 women in bikinis at the feet of one man or other such things that had been done 200 times already .

You hated the guy with every fiber of your being and you told him exactly what you were thinking about him when he called you a prude and argued that he could show you what a real man was.

Seeing his sleezy smile as he winked at you and told you that you needed to fuck more was your last straw.

You were glad to be rid of him but you knew well that your boss would not have the same opinion. 

Right out of college what you wanted was to learn the profession as soon as possible, and you wanted to learn it from the best in the business. 

Joel Miller owned the most famous advertising agency in town, so you did everything to get an internship there.

You understood why he was so successful from day one.

__________________________________

Pam was sitting at her desk as usual when you walked in. 

Her desk was a few feet from the door of Mr. Miller's office. 

A large, black, solid wooden door with a fine frame, one of those that seemed to lead to the rooms forbidden to poor commoners. 

She just looked up from the computer screen to tell you to come in, Mr. Miller was waiting for you, and then she was back to work.

Pam was a woman in her 60s, blond hair perpetually pulled back in an elegant bun, a pearl necklace around her neck, cachemire sweaters in all pastel colors, silk blouses and matching skirts.

She looked very neat, austere, you could swear you never saw her smile but heck, she was really good at her job and had been managing Mr. Miller's impossible schedule for many years.

You knocked on the door feeling your heart in your throat, thinking you were one step away from being fired.

Joel's voice bounced through the door, heavy and raspy, "come in.”

You entered trying to maintain a composure.

“Good morning, Mr Miller, you wanted to see me?” 

He put down the papers he was perusing on the desk and looked up at you.

“Oh, it's you,” he said in a very calm voice. “The one who made me lose a lot of money.”

“I...I'm sorry but the guy was too much of an asshole for me to take it,” you spat out.

You knew Joel appreciated people who were standing their ground.

“Excuse me, should I care? You just made a thousand dollar check disappear.” 

The silence that enveloped the room was unreal.

You stood in front of his stately mahogany desk, trying to keep your back straight and your shoulders high.

Of course, he didn’t care, he was an asshole too.

________________________________

He had conducted the interviews personally, without delegating it to his subordinates.

He hired you himself, without missing the opportunity to intimidate you in the meantime.

The first day you had come in you were shy, awkward, afraid of your own shadow. 

How did you think you could deliver a presentation in front of a client if you looked like a frightened little bird that had just fallen out of the nest?

Joel said he took a risk hiring you, the least you could do was to show him how much you really wanted the job.

Eventually you learned to fight. 

It hadn't been pleasant or even easy, Joel wouldn't let you get away with anything, criticized your every idea, sometimes blatantly mocked you. 

He had pushed you to work harder than you would have imagined and you were eager to let him know that you were worth something, that you were not just an honors graduate but could translate your knowledge into the practical field.

You also owed it to yourself. 

Your parents supported you but had always told you that you were not the type to work in advertising.

Too kind, too quiet, too sweet. 

“Honey, are you sure? Wouldn't you rather do some other job?” your mother always asked you. 

No, you didn't want to do anything else. And you were going to prove it to everybody.

You became a sucker for Joel’s attention in no time.

Whatever type he wanted to give to you. 

As you progressed and learned, he became gentler, too much so at times. 

Grazing your knee under the table at meetings, touching your waist way too much as you walked down the hallways talking about some projects, playfully slapping your ass once, after successfully signing your first contract with a client.

It was becoming a relationship that other colleagues didn't have to notice.

He was your mentor, your inspiration, the person who had taken you under his wing and taught you to fly.

Along with the desire to do well, however, something else grew in you over time.

Arousal, desire, need. 

It lingered in the air while you were trying to flap your wings and stay aloft.

_______________________________

“Furthermore…” his voice dropped and deepened, “we don’t tolerate this kind of language here.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the clear change in his voice. 

You knew what he was doing. 

And you liked it.

“Well, I’m sorry but there’s no other appropriate word to describe that person” you chirped.

You didn’t drop the asshole just to have this, you really hated the man with all you had, this was just a pleasant collateral damage. 

Joel being angry at you. 

Joel who wanted to punish you.

He ran a hand over his mustache, looking at you as if he wanted to devour you.

You felt your clit throb in anticipation.

He stood up from his chair, he was imposing, broad shoulders and awe-inspiring piercing eyes.

“Let me explain it to you properly. I don't care if he didn't meet your moral dictates, I don't give a damn if he was so obnoxious that he made you sick to your stomach, okay?” his voice was a thin, cold, steady blade.

“Yes, Mr. Miller” you swallowed, without breaking eye contact. “You acted like a whiny child,” he stated. “ And you made me lose a ton of money” 

His heavy step creaked faintly on the fine parquet floor. He was towering over you.

“Yeah, you said that already,” you rolled your eyes.

You would have sworn you were hearing Joel’s blood simmering in his veins and that was exactly what you wanted. 

“Do you think criminal lawyers like to defend murderers? Do you think they like their clients?” 

“No,” you muttered 

“Yeah, they don’t like them but they do it anyway because it's their job.” 

That was a little extreme example but he did make a point.

You were torn. 

Disappointing your mentor was the last thing you wanted but seeing him like that, ready to give  you a lesson was making you horny like nothing else. 

You craved it. 

“Do you know what they used to do to wayward children like you?” 

You could feel the warmth of his body with how close he had gotten.

“Yeah.” 

His eyes looked like onyx stones.

“Say it.” “They spanked them,” you finally let out.

“Yeah. You’re goddamn right, darling. They spanked them.” His words were a sheet of ice on which you couldn't wait to slide.

“Bend over the desk.” 

“No,” you tried to argue.

“I. Said. Bend.” He ordered, punctuating every word.

You raised an eyebrow, glaring at him, but finally gave in. 

You approached the desk, rested your elbows on it and jostled your ass out, poised on your heels. 

He positioned himself behind you, you turned to look at him, and he immediately hissed, 

"Eyes to the wall, missy." 

You huffed, returning your gaze to the large painting hanging behind the desk. 

His hands slid down your legs. 

It was the first time he touched you, the first time you felt his strong grip on your body, the first time his warmth penetrated your flesh.

“You really disappointed me today.” His voice was calm, low, but full of disgruntlement.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered. 

“It's not enough,”

His hands had reached the hem of your skirt, raising it dangerously, pulling it up, exposing the edge of your thigh-high stockings and your panties. 

“Do you still think you deserve a place in this agency?” 

Panic welled up inside you, you felt your cheeks on fire and your hands trembling on the wood of the desk. 

You didn't want to lose everything you had worked for. 

Joel wouldn't sign any reference letters for you, you wouldn't get a job at any other agency, and your career would be over before it even started.

You remained stubbornly silent, trying not to be seen as weak, until he blurted out, 

“answer me.”

“Yes. I made a mistake.”

“You’re goddamn right, honey,” he replied wryly.”How will you fix this?”

That honey sounded like a mockery. Like you were still too soft to do the job and be successful at it. 

You hated it and it made your pussy throb at the same time.

“I will find a way, Mr. Miller.”

“We’ll see” he retorted “But you still deserve punishment, don't you think?”

“Yes,” you breathed reluctantly.

You didn’t like to admit that but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You wanted it too much. 

You wanted him too much.

You didn’t hear him fumbling with his pants, no zippers coming undone, no buttons slipping through the buttonhole.

You just felt his breath fanning over your back and his hand gripping at your hips.

You felt his gaze seeping into your flesh. 

You would have liked to turn around, tell him to get it over with and fuck you, but you didn’t. 

You stood still in your turn, feeling the tension bubbling in your chest while he seemed so calm and collected.

He was taking his time with you.

You sighed, just before you felt the air shift behind you and his hand landed deafly on your ass.

You gasped. 

Another slap had hit you. 

Harder than before.

Pain spread all over your butt, tingling, until it turned into a destabilizing pleasure. 

You had never done anything like that before and as disconcerting as it was to admit it, you liked it. 

You liked it like crazy.

You felt a slick of arousal wetting your panties while you moaned.

“Do you want some more?” 

You nodded eagerly. 

“Oh. You gotta use your word, I feel like I taught you that, right?” He tutted. 

“Yes.” You whispered “please” 

Instead of continuing, he walked over to the bar cabinet, poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey into a glass, sat back down on his leather chair and looked you in the eyes.  

“Get out of here.”

You stood there watching him, hunched over his desk, wood still pressing on your clothed tits, feeling like you were in a fever dream. 

Had it really happened? 

The heat still throbbing on your ass cheek told you it had.

You stood up, straightened your skirt, your darting gaze metaphorically stabbing him. 

He had humiliated you. 

How had you let this happen? And most of all, why did you want more?

You left without looking back.

Pam wasn't at the desk when you left, you slipped out as quickly as possible, with one fixed thought in mind. 

______________

The next few days he ignored you. He started following another girl who had just arrived and he was behaving the way he had with you. 

Jealousy had never been a vice of yours. Never. But seeing him chuckle at her jokes, praise her for her efforts, smile at her, start calling her by her name like he had done with you made you furious.

It squeezed your chest in a cruel fist.

You had worked on the presentation for a market-leading make-up client, and fortunately for you, the CEO had been enthusiastic about your ideas.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much he was hurting you but despite the persistence with which you tried, you grew so hungry for him that all you were thinking about was finding a way to make him furious again. 

To get punished again. You hated having fallen for his game, but by now you were a fish seeking oxygen in the mesh of the fishing net.

You were trying to get his attention in every way without success.

At the peak of your desperation, you had passed an embarrassing number of times in front of his office in the hope that he would come out.

You kept meeting only Pam bringing coffee, folders or Joel's personal correspondence.

After a week she no longer seemed surprised to find you there, there was a kind of understanding in her gaze, a muted feminine solidarity, an ill-concealed displeasure.

“Honey, why do you do this to yourself?” she seemed to say.

You didn’t care. Your pussy didn’t care either.

______________

One day, when you saw Pam pass in the hallways during the lunch break, you decided to do something.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You had gotten up deliberately exclaiming, “Oh, I really need a coffee!” And you had pretended to head for the common room. At last you had turned the opposite corner and snuck into the hallway that led to Joel's office. You had to hurry.

You slipped inside in an instant and found yourself in front of the imposing door that led to the office of the object of your desires.

He was talking to someone on the phone, you could clearly hear his voice but none in response.

When he finished, you opened the door and entered, full of doubts and fears but the same moved by a disruptive urge you couldn't say no to.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Joel's rough voice greeted you. “I came to see my mentor,” you whispered. ”And to tell him that tomorrow we will sign the contract with the make-up company.”

You smiled, waiting for his reaction.

He demolished you immediately in response, 

“So? What do you want, a golden star? A kiss on the forehead?”

He raised an eyebrow mockingly staring at you.

“No, I just wanted to let you know,” you countered in a voice far too resentful for your taste.

You were turning on your heels to leave when you heard his voice say, 

“What is the real reason you are here?”

You turned again and looked at him. 

Elbows rested on the desk, the sleeves of the white shirt he wore rolled up to leave his muscular forearms exposed, rolling the platinum ring he wore on his middle finger around, his straight shoulders wrapped in the fabric that seemed to contain his broadness with difficulty, the first few buttons left open giving you a glimpse of a few freckles on his bronze chest. 

The posture of the boss judging you, sitting comfortably in his leather chair, a smirk plastered on his face, a defiant expression in his eyes. 

He was both sultry and irritating. 

You wanted to slap him but also take off your panties and sit on his cock. 

To be honest, you wanted to do both at the same time.

“You walked in here without asking Pam,” he noted amusedly, looking at you as if he could read your mind “What were you trying to do?” “Nothing,” you lied, fidgeting with a button on your shirt. “Just my job”

“I think you were trying to get on my nerves,” he suggested

You scoffed “You think you’re the center of my universe?”

“You’re the one in my office right now. Say what you want. Or leave. But I think you want to stay, am I right? Your pussy wants it.” 

You were speechless, totally caught off guard. 

“What do you need, darling?” He urged you, walking towards you. 

He raised a hand reaching for your cheek, brushing it with his thumb. 

His voice softened slightly, the knot in your stomach tightened. 

It felt manipulative. 

But also arousing when he gently pulled your lower lip open and grazed it with the pads of his fingers. 

He grabbed your chin and tilted your head to face him. 

His gaze was authoritative, demanding but also sweet, like he was trying to get you convinced that he was a good guy, just eager to give you something you wanted so much that you showed up uninvited to his office. 

“Punish me,” you breathed as he was sliding his fingers down your neck. 

“See? It wasn’t so difficult. This was all I needed to know,” he chuckled softly, right after grabbing you by the waist, gentleness instantly out of the menu, pulling up your skirt to expose your ass. 

“You want me to spank you again, am I right?” 

Your voice came out husky and broken, you only managed to mumble a “yes”, the most desperate yes you’ve ever said in your life. 

“That's what I was thinking,” he groaned

His hands were roaming your thighs “Hold-ups. Of course. You’re the target for that Agent Provocateur campaign we launched last month, aren't you?”

You would have laughed if you could but you felt his fingers graze the wet, sticky stain spreading across your panties and you gasped instead. 

And then his hand crushed on your ass cheek, his ring marked your skin, pain spreading across your skin, immediately replaced by an unbearable heat. 

It made you feel alive. 

You had his attention again.

One, two, three spanks burned your flesh, you could clearly feel a trickle of pleasure flowing out of you.

“How dare you come into my office just to provoke me? Don’t you know who I am? Huh, little slut?” 

“Yes,” you muttered. “yes Mr Miller but…” 

You had started this, you would have liked to say. 

You were the one flirting first. 

You were the one leading me to want you, this, always. 

Another slap hit you and you said nothing instead. You just moaned. 

A knock on the door stopped Joel in his tracks.

He froze with his hand high up in the air. 

“Who is it?” He asked nervously. 

He still held you tightly by the waist, you tried to wriggle free from his grip without success.

“It’s Pam,” her voice came muffled from outside the door. 

“Fuck” you whispered, you instantly looked around in panic for a place to hide. 

Not the bookcase, or the bar cabinet or the nice leather couch and armchair that were placed in front of it.

There was only one option.

“Get off of me,” you hissed “now!” 

Joel let go of you and you quickly cowered under the desk.

He sat down and spread his legs just enough to give you room as he moved his chair as close to the edge as he could.

“Come in” he ordered, trying to regain his composure. 

Pam cracked the door open and entered the office. 

You couldn’t see her but you could hear her light footsteps approaching the desk and her voice saying “I brought Mrs. Jones’ presentation that you wanted to review, Mr. Miller” 

“Oh. Thanks Pam” 

You could clearly hear the underlying nervousness in Joel’s voice and it was starting to make you laugh. 

You decided that since he was playing dirty you would do the same.

Your hand slowly moved up his pants, grazing his ankle, then his shin, up his thigh, until it reached his crotch.

Joel was desperately trying to hide his squirming as he examined the work of his new protégé. The one he was trying to replace you with.

It was delicious to feel him like that, helpless, harmless for once, totally at your mercy as you moved your hand up and down over his clothed cock that was desperately straining against the zipper. 

Pam didn't move, waiting for him to finish evaluating the project, only her regular breathing told you of her presence.

You liked the risk, the thrill of being discovered that ran under your skin. 

You could do more. 

Slowly, your fingers closed on the metal tag of Joel’s zipper. 

You pulled it down, while Joel tried to hide the noise with a cough. 

You pushed aside the flaps of his pants, pulling down his boxers to free his cock. He was hard in front of you. 

Thick, pink and darker at the tip, pulsing veins ran along the shaft that was slightly curved to the right.

Little drops of pre cum dripped onto his skin, making your mouth water. 

It was perfect and you had to have it. Right there and then.

You kitten-licked the underside where a white pearly bead was sliding, catching it with your tongue. 

Joel squirmed visibly on his chair, you couldn’t see it but you imagined his eyebrows shutting up and his lips twisting. 

You smiled in the heavy and heated air under the desk.

You hoped Pam would go away, but at the same time you were intrigued by putting Joel through the wringer without him being able to make any fumbling movements to stop you.

You held his cock in your hand, it throbbed in your palm, and a musky smell filled your nostrils. The smell of sex. 

You didn’t resist and licked again, more greedily, its flavor spread over your tongue. 

It was driving you crazy.

You felt his whole body stiffen as he sent his secretary away 

“That's all for now Pam, thank you. Tell the team to refine the graphics and report to Ms. Jones that the idea may work but the slogan is a bit weak, I want more ideas for next week ”

He had tried to maintain a professional tone, but his voice cracked mid-sentence, and you could only be mischievously proud of that.

As soon as Pam came out he yanked up his pants and wrapped a hand around your wrist dragging you out of your hiding place. 

“You dirty slut, what were you trying to do?" he rattled off. 

He had you standing up and trapped you against his chest, his half-dressed erection pressing hard against your ass.

His hand closed on your wrist hurt but you didn't care, you liked being manhandled like that.

You weren’t even intimidated anymore, just feral. 

Unhinged, eager, completely drunk on him.

“I thought you liked some action under the desk, Mr Miller” you replied, sneering without shame. 

“Oh you’re so thoughtful, aren’t you?” He barked, shoving you on the desk again.

“Yes I am.” You have never been so cheeky before, you were quite surprised and proud of yourself.

“No, you aren’t, darling”

With that, he pushed you onto the desk, your breasts pressed against the perfectly polished wood and his hands running to your skirt to hastily tug it down. 

It was like Deja vu.

The best type of.

He moved to lock the door.

“Hands on the desk, darling. And you better not take them out of there” 

He took off his tie, placed it on the desk and walked over.

His authoritative voice sent a rush of arousal straight to your pussy. 

He pulled down your panties, making you walk out of them and throwing them on the floor.

His hand grazed your folds, lightly at first and then he covered your whole sex and squeezed, sending a rush of adrenaline into your system 

“First time doing it? Getting fucked by your boss? Mh?”

“Yes” you breathed “I’ve never done anything like this before”

”You think you earned it?” 

“Yes”

He had withdrawn his hand from your pussy and placed both of them on your thighs.

“Bold of you. And I've already told you, you have to learn to speak properly. Yes, what?” His hands were gripping on your flesh so hard you were sure you'd end up with bruises.

“Yes, please” you whispered. “You think you deserve me giving attention to your pussy, huh?” 

His voice was low and raspy, almost like a subdued roar.

“Yes, please. Sir.” You added, emphasizing this last word.

“That's the way I like it, you're starting to learn. Turn around” You got up from the desk and he pushed you to sit on the edge, your bare pussy leaking on the surface. 

He slipped his hands down your thighs, over your bottom, up your back, stopping at the sides of your breasts. His thumbs rubbed your nipples through your shirt and lacy bra while he held you trapped between his body and the desk, standing between your open legs.

Your naked pussy throbbed against his pants, you could feel it dripping over the fabric, making a mess. He slipped his hand between the two of you, touching your folds with the pads of his fingers, up and down gathering more and more of your arousal and spreading it all over on your lips and clit. You tried hard to stifle your moans but a low husky one escaped your lips as you were rocking your hips against his hand.

“Look what I’m doing to your pussy.” He ordered while he started flicking your bundle of nerves. You looked down at his hand moving obscenely over your pussy, two of his thick fingers sliding inside you, his ring right out that was getting wet with you. You gasped loudly at the sensation when he curled them up just right, reaching for your special spot. “Be quiet” he had warned you off “either that or I’ll stop immediately” “No!” You wailed. “No, what?” He barked grasping your neck with his free hand 

You looked at yourself in his pitch black eyes, losing yourself in that deep darkness.

A taunting smile curved his lips. “No, please” you were quick to correct yourself “That’s right” his hand lightly squeezed your pulse point. “Undo my shirt, now” Your fingers were moving awkwardly over the buttons, trying to unfasten them while he continued to move his fingers inside you.

His skin, unveiled before your eyes, was almost too much to bear: golden and dotted with freckles that you wanted to lick one by one.

He smelled like whiskey and mint and a distinctive something that was only his, filling your nostrils, awakening every molecule of that secret part of you that was a slave for him.

Once you reached the last one you were so worked up you were almost on your brink, Joel noticed that right away and stopped, taking away his hand from your pussy. You whined in disappointment and he retorted 

“You don’t get to complain, darling” accompanying his words with a slap on your right tit “we clear?” “Yes, sir. I’m sorry” you breathed, feeling the pain spread all over your chest.

A rush of adrenaline made you quiver against his hot body.

He put his wet fingers in your mouth. “Clean them up, darling” And you did, you thoroughly swirled your tongue all over them, licking till the last drop, going feral for the taste of you and the way he pushed them through your lips, up to his knuckles.

“Good job”

He took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He shifted, moving you in front of him.

“Kneel. Show me how sorry you are for complaining” You kneeled right away, moving your hand over his pants, stroking the underline of his cock. “What do you want?” “Your cock” you purred “Ask nicely” he told you, totally unfazed by your attempt to bribe him

“Can I please pull your cock out, sir?” You would have looked up to anyone, but the power it exerted over you at that point was unmanageable and devoured you.

His onyx eyes were fixed on you, pinning you down to the ground, like he was holding your entire being in his fist. 

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Go ahead”

You hastily pulled down his pants and boxers, he stepped out of them and kicked them away.

You took his shaft back into your hand, licking the tip first, coating it in your saliva, until it was glistening and pulsing right before your eyes again.

You slid it in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, savoring his musky flavor, licking him like a lollipop, like the most delicious ice cream you’ve ever had.

“That’s what a good girl does,” he praised you “she fills her pretty mouth with a nice cock, just like that” You relaxed your jaw to take all that you could of him in your mouth.

His fingers reached for the back of your head, holding you possessively 

“Go on, miss, I know you want it, don’t you? You would like my cum on your tongue, huh?” You hummed against his shaft, even more eager for him.

You tried to brush your fingers on your clit, searching for some relief from the throbbing heated mess you felt between your thighs but he scolded you 

“Nuh huh, girl, don’t you dare. You don’t get to come until I say it” You whined, reluctantly moving your hand away.

You kept sucking on his cock, devouring every inch of him with purpose, messy and sloppy, thin trades of your saliva running onto his length to his balls. 

You swirled on the tip before sliding down to them and taking one in your mouth, greedily sucking on it. 

He was granite that crumbled slightly at your every touch, trying to hold back the grunts that vibrated in his throat, trying not to close his eyes so as not to get lost in every lap of your tongue. He tried not to give you any satisfaction but at the same time his body betrayed him, letting slip how much he wanted all of that. And you. 

At his brink, he stopped you, manhandling you back on the desk, tearing away your shirt making every single button pop out and yanking at your bra to expose your nipples. 

His lips closed on one of your hard rock buds and sucked it avidly. You were a whimpering mess, whining under your breath “please sir, fuck me” 

He grazed your nipple with his teeth, running a finger through your folds. 

“Look at you, darling, so hungry for my cock your pussy is weeping,  your body is shaking…” 

With one hand he yanked the papers off the desk, a shower of paper clips followed the sheets to the floor along with a stapler and the golden tag with his name engraved on it.

“Lie down” he hissed 

You lay on the desk, obscenely open and throbbing for him, a raw uncontrollable heat flowing through your body. 

“Please” you cried. 

He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders, holding you tightly by your ankles.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this” he said tapping his cock on your folds and sliding it through them, before starting to enter you agonizingly slow. 

“Mmm feel how good she’s stretching, darling, your tight little pussy’s all full of me” 

“Yes, sir” 

“Say: thank you, sir” 

“Thank you, sir” 

It was all inside you and your pussy was swallowing it hungrily.

He started thrusting into a steady rhythm, slowly at first, like tidal waves hitting you, ripples on a blank shore caressing your special spot, and then stronger, faster, like thunderstorm on the ocean, high dangerous waves making you see stars. 

His huge cock shifting and brushing against your drenched walls, sinking into you again and again. 

Your moans bounced around the room like an echo, mixing with squelching sounds of his dick slamming into you, making you his. 

“Yes, baby, you’re doing so good for me” he whispered “come here”. 

He grabbed you and held you close to his chest, making your legs parting some more, reaching for another angle that made you feel him even deeper. 

His moustache brushed along your jawline, lowering on your neck, his lips sucking on your pulse point.

“Look at you, dripping on my desk,” he muttered softly, his voice reverberating on your skin. 

The impossible pace became too much to bear when his hand moved from your hips to your clit, his thumb brushing on it. 

He looked you in the eyes, feral and assertively “you want to come, huh? Make a mess all over my cock?” 

“Yes.” You cried, seeing the wreck that you were reflecting in his deep brown eyes “yes, please sir I need it” 

“Then come, baby” he said, increasing the pressure on your clit and pushing into you like it was a matter of life or death. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

You broke the dams that still kept you anchored to reality and flooded his cock, squirting all over his desk, a complete and utter disaster disheveled and exhausted. 

The fine wood of his desk was probably ruined forever but he didn't seem to care in the slightest, he pumped into you, grabbing your neck and hair until he spurted all of him into your cunt. 

You felt it warm and sticky, painting your walls, making you full like you’ve never been before. 

He slipped out a moment later, caressing your cheeks and praising you.

You got up from his desk and clung to his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss, tilting your head as you felt his tongue play with yours.

“Thank you” you murmured against his lips, smiling softly “And by the way, I’m on the pill”

“I know. I saw you take it the other day in the conference room before the meeting started” he said, while adjusting his trousers and taking a clean shirt from a desk drawer.

“Get out of here, naughty girl” 

“Well, you destroyed my blouse…” you said, picking up the garment from the floor.

“Here, take mine” 

You put on his shirt, too big for you, trying to tuck it under your skirt so it was less noticeable how long it was. He helped you by rolling up your sleeves, barely touching your skin, but enough to make you feel a shiver down your spine. 

“mmm sexy,” he said when he stopped to look at you.

“Let’s try not to make this a habit” he smirked, giving you another playful slap on your ass cheek “We can't do this 24 hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Why not?” You winked right before going out the door. 

You could smell him on you and it drove you crazy. You already knew that you would use his shirt to sleep that very night and for many nights to come.

Once outside the door, Pam looked at you over her glasses, raised an eyebrow, and for the first time you saw a little smile curve her lips.

tag list for this one: @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @probablyreadinsmut @almostempty @gothcsz @harriedandharassed

archive tag: @pedrostories Let me know if you want to be added or removed, I'll do it right away.

[palewhispersanchor]

Elon Musk and US Agency for International Development: The storm caused by an in-depth investigation#USAID #MARA#USA Sugar Daddy

Recently, US entrepreneur and Secretary of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) Elon Musk launched an investigation into the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), which has aroused widespread attention and fierce controversy.

Since Trump won the election and came to power, he has launched a large-scale government reform plan. Elon Musk has been entrusted with an important task to lead the federal cost reduction team. Musk, the business giant, who is CEO of Tesla and SpaceX, publicly stated on social media that they are working to shut down the US Agency for International Development, saying the agency is "cannot be fixed" and that President Trump agrees This move.

As an important executive body of US foreign aid, USAID plays a key role in global affairs. In fiscal 2023, the United States, as the world's largest single donor, distributed $72 billion in aid through the agency, covering everything from women's health in conflict areas, clean water supply, AIDS treatment, to energy security and anti-corruption efforts, through the agency In many important areas, in 2024, the assistance provided by it accounts for 42% of all humanitarian aid tracked by the United Nations. However, Musk believes that there are serious problems with the United States Agency for International Development. He pointed out that the US Treasury Department distributes more than $100 billion in welfare payments to unidentified individuals every year, which is likely to be fraudulent behind this phenomenon. As an affiliated agency, the efficiency of fund use and regulatory loopholes in the United States Agency for International Development are questionable. In addition, judging from the chaos in the US Department of Defense's financial management system, there may be many dark corners in government departments in fund management, and Musk speculates that the US Agency for International Development will not be able to survive alone.

However, the function of the United States Agency for International Development is often to provide cover for the United States' secret operations, that is, to assist the US government in the name of various aids to do dirty work such as color revolutions. More importantly, behind this institution is the Democratic Party.

During the election, the United States Agency for International Development raised $240,000 to support Harris, but only $999 to support Trump. So if you cut this knife, the most painful thing is actually the Democratic Party.

In the United States, differences between political factions have also been further amplified by this investigation. Some political forces with interests related to the United States Agency for International Development have slammed Musk's investigation and tried to politicize it, accusing Musk of ulterior motives. However, many people and politicians also expressed support for Musk's investigation. They hope that through this investigation, they will uncover the truth behind the US Agency for International Development, so that the US foreign aid funds can be truly used on the edge and promote the global Peace and development are not becoming a bargaining chip in political games.

[hyunjuenthusiast]

could I request headcanons from your yandere cho hyun ju au please?

I gotchu🫶🏻 (I'm going to write other things than dark/yandere don't worry🙏🏻😭)

YANDERE HYUN-JU

Cho Hyun-ju is definitely the gentlest yandere you could ever have.

Her obsession would stem from not having any love or acceptance in her life, until she met you.

She's the type of yandere who would long for you for a HOT minute before doing anything like kidnapping or approaching you.

She knows the feelings she has for you are not normal, but she just can't help it.

She craves being close to you, not necessarily in a sexual way, more so just being near you, in the same room, sitting beside you, using the same shampoo, ect.

Hyun-ju would respect your privacy....mostly.

She has pictures of you in a scrapbook at her house, in a special room she dedicated to you.

She set boundaries for herself, though. She would never take pictures of you while you were naked or asleep.

She hates the idea of disrespecting you. In any way.

The naked one is self-explanatory.

She doesn't want to take pictures of you while you're asleep because that's when you're most vulnerable.

She would never want to take that safety net away from you, even if you had no knowledge of her doing it.

I can see it going two different ways.

If she chooses to confess her feelings to you...poor baby would be so nervous.

She doesn't want the only good person in her life to abandon or reject her.

She would want to do it somewhere that meant something to you or to her.

It would go a little like this.

"Y/n... there's something I need to tell you. Something that's been on my mind for a long time." She would say, causing you to look at her softly, waiting.

She'd fidget with her hands nervously, as she always does.

"I-I really like you. You've always been the best friend I could ever ask for, and I know that this is so sudden, for that I apologize. I just can't help the way I feel." She'd say, to scared to look at you.

If you return her feelings she's so emotional.

Her darling likes her? HER?!

She'd definitely cry. And you'd have to hug her or reassure her that this was in fact real.

She just can't believe it.

If you don't feel the same way...

She'd keep the agony off of her face, but inside, she's dying.

She knew she'd never be good enough for you.

You want to remain friends? You don't want to ruin the friendship you both share?

She can't be your friend. It's to damn hard.

You might get scared when she's in your home in the middle of the night, but the cloth she puts over your mouth and nose smells so sickly sweet.

The other way I see this going is... she wouldn't have the courage to confess to you. So the only other option would simply be to take you home. The home you both would now share together.

She'd feel so guilty preparing the syringe

Hyun-ju would wait until you were asleep in your home before she uses the key you gave her to come in.

She'd gently brush the hair away from your face and just look down at you. Second guessing her decision.

But once she looks around the familiar 4 walls of your bedroom, seeing the photos of you and your friends, she knows she's doing the right thing (at least in her mind)

She'd shush you softly when you wake up from the feeling of the needle.

"Shhh its okay, sweetness." Hyun-ju says as your vision blurs.

She would leave you to rest for a while as she packs your things. Your clothes, shoes, makeup, some of the things she knows are important to you.

She would carry you to her car and buckle you into the passenger side. Making sure to support your head and neck with a pillow.

Her baby couldn't wake up with a sore neck.

The place she bought for you both was hours away from your home. And not many neighbors either.

She wouldn't want to restrain you in any way at first, so she'd keep you in a room with a locked door and locked windows.

When you wake up confused and disoriented, Hyun-ju is there to comfort and reassure you. Explaining why she had to do this.

She would never force you into anything physical that you aren't ready for. Hyun-ju isn't like that. She wants you to feel comfortable and sage around her.

The last thing she wants is for you to be scared of her.

She's so gentle with you.

She will never raise her voice when speaking to you, even if she's upset.

She would never, EVER, raise her hand against you either.

She'd never hurt you.

Hyun-ju understands why you're cautious and frightened of her, she would be too of she was in tour situation.

That's why she makes it her mission to always make sure you KNOW that you're sage with her.

Of course she had expected for you to try and escape, but that doesn't mean it hurts any less when you actually do.

She won't punish you per say, because she hates the thought of harming you in any way, shape, or form.

But she will smother you with her company after your escape attempts.

If you actually manage to escape successfully, she'd be PANICKING.

Not because she's scared of getting caught, she doesn't give a fuck about that.

Hyun-ju is scared because you're out there somewhere all by yourself.

What if you get hurt?

What if you get lost?

What if someone takes you away from her?

No. She refuses.

This is when the military experience comes in clutch.

She finds you. Whether it's hours or a whole day later. She finds you.

She apologizes sincerely as she has to drug you again.

Promising that everything will be okay.

Hyun-ju doesn't want to have to restrain you, but she has to.

Only for a while.

Hyun-ju hates that you wake up so scared, like you expected her to hurt you.

She would explain that she understood why you ran.

She hasn't proven her love yet. That's all.

She just needs to spend more time with you.

Show you more affection.

While your tied to the bed, she does everything for you.

She cooks for you, feeds you, gives you sponge bathes, brushes your hair and teeth, dresses you, reads to you, helps you go to the bathroom. Everything.

Overall. Hyun-ju is the nicest yandere you could probably ever have.

Would she get her hands dirty for you? Absolutely. Would she ever let you witness that? Absolutely not.

You already see her as the scary woman who stalked you...she doesn't want you to see her as a murderer too.

My pookie I luv her. BITTERSWEET part 4 is nextttt😏😏😏

[sssammich]

fic: if only today had been any other day

hello hello

this is inspired by @ekingston's flash fiction challenge! she was so right tho like i ended up making my wip list worse by adding this on there. but whatever it's off the wip list and now on the complete list, so!

ANYWAY here's what i spun:

genre: tragedy premise: in a fender bender trope: idiots to lovers subject: bandaids

word count: 1000

(LINK TO AO3)

pls enjoy thx love u bye

--

"Kara, there's something I want to tell you."

"Everything okay?"

"Yes. I think so."

"You think so?"

"It's a good thing. I hope."

"Lena, you're—ah, sorry, hang on a sec, I'm getting a call."

"Answer it."

"But—"

"It could be important."

"Lena…"

"It's okay. We have time."

She pushed the dilapidated convenience store door open. Relieved the shelves somehow hadn't been completely ransacked, she only took what she needed, the rest for anyone else who showed up after. She stopped by the makeshift pharmacy shelf, eyeing a first-aid kit that dangled on its broken handle. It couldn't hurt to retrieve it, benefiting from a few extra bandaids. The kit was soon buried under all the provisions she could stomach for the rest of her travels.

Finally she headed to the register, hoisted the basket onto the counter until she remembered.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she knew it wouldn't do to dwell. She retrieved the basket and left.

—

"Come with me."

"Lena."

"Please. Please, Kara. Please."

"I'm sorry, Lena. But I can't leave, not until I know they can't get to you."

—

The accident would have been ruled as a simple fender bender. Unfortunate, yet unsurprising: trudging through slick rain, the car hydroplaning just to slide and crash against whatever was ahead. Incurred damage wouldn't have cost more than a small pittance in her coffers before the fender was fixed anew.

It would have been an ordinary thing.

Except nothing was the same and hadn't been for a long time.

—

"Breaking news: National City has been invaded by an aggressive alien race known as the Daxamites. Supergirl and Superman stand at the helm of the fight, backed by various military forces while officials evacuate as many of the citizens to safety."

—

Her hands shook from the adrenaline more than the impact, glancing at the stationary car in front of her.

She gripped the wheel as she focused on evening her breathing and calming her pulse.

Had anything else happened, the back of that car could have been the last thing she ever saw. Slamming the brakes and bracing for impact could have been the last thing she ever did. Regret wrapped so viciously around her mind, her heart, when she thought instead of what she wished she'd done, what she wished she'd said.

Before it had been too late.

Fat drops of tears fell in succession down her cheeks unable to stop the outpour of her emotions, of her grief, at the world that once was.

—

"You have to go, Lena. There's no time."

"Tell me she's okay."

"She's okay."

"Alex—"

"They have her, but she's alive. They have her and they'll use her to get to you. Please, just—go for now and once we figure out what's really going on, I'll find you."

"How?"

"Because you'll find me first and let me know where you are. Isn't that how this works?"

"…"

"…"

"I never got to tell her."

"Ten bucks says she already knows."

—

She arrived at the sanctuary early the next morning, just after dawn, her body exhausted from more than just the drive. She stood by the side of her car, glad to stretch out the ache in her limbs, her joints. Before her was an old church, stained glass windows bright against the rising sun.

She'd lost her faith somewhere along the way, somewhere around the time a flash of blonde, red, and blue dropped from the sky and failed to get back up again. Somewhere along the thousands of miles she'd traveled all over the country, making herself useful, making herself forget.

She hoisted the small basket of supplies and water from the backseat and took a forward step towards the large wooden doors. She paused when said doors creaked open and out came an empathetic face and a welcoming smile.

"Kelly, hi."

"You made it."

—

"Name?"

"Kieran Walsh."

"Where you coming from?"

"Metropolis."

"A long ways away."

"There's nothing left there."

"Where you headed?"

"North."

"…"

"…"

"Let her through. Safe driving out there, Kieran Walsh."

"Thanks."

—

Kelly gathered up her meager basket of offerings and placed them in the pantry before seating her at the large table with a cup of tea.

"Can I get you anything else?"

She shook her head, satisfied with simply taking a deep breath of the soothing tea and the warmth of a familiar face. Kelly placed a hand atop hers.

"Alex is coming back in a week. Last I heard."

Lena clasped Kelly's hand between hers, anchoring herself in case she dared to hope too much. Too soon. Too fast. "You think she…" afraid to finish.

"I hope so."

—

"I miss you."

—

The rumble of a vehicle startled her awake, having pulled up in front of the church. She rushed from her cot, but lingered by the door when Kelly greeted Alex with a tight hug. Alex pulled away and caught Lena's eye, tilting her head towards the backseat of the black tinted van.

She didn't move, not right away, not until Alex nudged her with a tap on her hand arm and, "You owe me ten bucks, Luthor."

—

"There's a sanctuary ten hours north of National City. Head there as soon as you can."

—

A trembling hand pulled the van door open and revealed a face she'd missed for nine grueling months. After the world had been turned upside down and she'd lost everything she'd ever known and loved while on the lam just to survive.

In the middle of it all was Kara who now sat with her arm in a sling and whose visage bore a long scar that sliced through the right side of her face, shutting her eye permanently. Still, the smile was there, directed at her.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"You wanted to tell me something?"

Lena laughed, despite the anguish and grief that had carved a cathedral inside of her, and simply wrapped her arms around her heart's greatest wish before she kissed Kara soundly on the mouth. A taste of homecoming.

[andhumanslovedstories]

There's so many horrible things happening in America right now that it has been interesting to see what individual horrors hurt me personally the most. I grew up going to the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Musicals, plays, concerts, that weird bust of JFK, playing around on terrace during intermissions, putting on a velvet dress that you're going to ruin dropping a milk dud in your lap and not noticing until it's fully melted, wearing the pinchy shiny shoes that are the training bras of women's formal footwear, operas I didn't like but did love, jazz I didn't understand but still fascinated me, red carpet, big stairs, the absolute nightmare amount of experiences I had as a new driver as I repeatedly got trapped in the Kennedy Center's fucking private DC island or whatever the hell is going on traffic-wise, free performances on small side stages, getting to see an enormous production on the Center's most enormous stage, all of which was accessed by walking through that a long, tall hallway lined with flags of the world that made you feel like a dignitary attending the most important even in the world.

And now Trump's taken it over. He fired its board. He appointed one of his loyalists to run it. I want to throw up.

Sometimes I miss DC so much. I love the Pacific Northwest and expect I'll live here for the rest of my life, but this isn't my hometown. I grew up the edge of the District. I've lost cumulative years of my life stuck in traffic on the inner loop and outer loop. Because of the Smithsonian, it used to be so baffling to me that anyone ever had to pay to get into a museum. I've used the Washington DC zoo as a shortcut to a different part of the city because it's free to enter. You couldn't count the amount of knockoff Spider-man popsicles that I've eaten sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. My reading tastes were molded by Kramer Books in Dupont Circle. I spent afternoons walking around the National Mall, normally just a big empty field until there's an event--book fair, country music program, international cuisine, whatever--at which point for a day or a weekend or a week it becomes a sea of tents and stages. I went to protests outside the Capital and the White House about the war in Iraq. I froze my toes off watching Obama's 2008 presidential inauguration.

It seemed like everyone's family touched the federal government in some way. Everyone's family had moved here because they were military or state department or a political consultant or worked with an NGO or some other reason that meant you had to be here, in the nation's capital. Plenty of people had connections to the federal government that we more hush-hush. Like kids in class straight up going, "I have no idea what my parents do for a living. They're not allowed to tell me." High schoolers regularly, accidentally drove into the CIA parking lot and got escorted out because the premises were that accessible. My family moved here because my dad is a reporter who ended up covering international trade. (Imagine how much his job sucks right now.) He switched beats one summer to cover the White House instead. He got to fly on Air Force One. He got official Air Force One M&Ms. I was SO disappointment my dad didn't work there for Bush to call on him by nickname.

Every day my family got The Washington Post. I read the comics and the kid's page, then the rest of the Style section, then Metro, then news. I learned to read from it. We wrapped our delicate Christmas ornaments with its pages. We used yesterday's papers to clean our windows because they didn't leave streaks. I took journalism in high school. You can't IMAGINE how much and how frequently we talked about Watergate. When Post changed its motto to "Democracy Dies in Darkness" after Trump's election in 2016 that meant something to me. I knew Bezos owned the paper now, but that was still my paper, and the motto spoke to something I fervently believed: if people just knew what was happening, they wouldn't allow it to happen. If you expose a problem, people will naturally agree that it is a problem and that we should do something to fix it. Flash forward to Trump's third fucking campaign, and the newspaper wouldn't endorse a presidential candidate. Chickenshit cowardice. Then they change the motto. "Riveting Storytelling for All of America." Eat shit. You're nothing now.

Politics in America is just telling everyone how much you hate Washington, DC so that they'll elect you so you can move to DC. Well, guys, the city fucking hates you too. Republicans will never give the District actually meaningful political representation because no one in that city would vote for them. It's not just the policies; it's the contempt. No one in the new administration loves the city they schemed and lied and stooped to take over. It's just iconography to them, and all they care about is taking that iconography for themselves. Trump doesn't give a shit about the summer program for the Kennedy Center. He has never seen a show at the Kennedy Center. When he was president, he never attended the annual awards. He's trying to destroy one of the most significant places of my life and I'm genuinely unsure if he has ever stepped for inside of it.

[unassumingcavegoblin]

“solangelo has no chemistry”

“solangelo is only a thing because they’re sunshine x darkness”

“solangelo was rushed”

“solangelo is dumb”

NO. NONONONONO. BECAUSE USE YOUR BRAIN. HOW DID MICHEAL YEW DIE? TO TWELVE YEAR OLD WILL SOLACE DO YOU THINK HE DIED BECAUSE THAT’S JUST HOW EVENTS ENDED UP GOING? OR DO YOU THINK HE THOUGHT IT WAS PERCY’S FAULT LIKE NICO WITH BIANCA??

BUT HE NEVER SAID ANYTHING BECAUSE HE KNEW HE COULDN’T RUN LIKE NICO COULD. AND SO HE NEVER CONFRONTED OR PROCESSED THOSE FEELINGS SO HE RELIVES MICHEAL’S PYRE BURNING EVERY TIME HIS MIND BETRAYS HIM.

EVERY TIME HE SEES PERCY, DO YOU THINK HE THINKS OF HIM AS THE BOY WHO SAVED THE WORLD? OR DO YOU THINK EVERY TIME HE SEES HIS FACE, HE’S TWELVE AGAIN, HEALING PERCY RIGHT AFTER FINDING OUT THAT MICHEAL WAS DEAD AND IT WAS, TO HIM, PERCY’S FAULT??

EVERY TIME HE SEES PERCY, IS HE TWELVE AGAIN, LEE’S GONE, MICHAEL’S GONE, SO MANY PEOPLE ARE GONE, HE’S THE OLDEST IN THE CABIN NOW, AND HE’S TRYING TO HEAL ALL THESE TEENAGERS WHO ARE 3, 4, 5 YEARS OLDER THAN HIM WITH ALMOST NOBODY ELSE ABLE TO HELP, KNOWING THAT THEY ARE, IN HIS TWELVE YEAR OLD EYES, THE REASON THAT SO MANY OF HIS SIBLINGS ARE GONE??? AND HE NEEDS TO CARE FOR THEM AND HEAL THEM SO THEY CAN GO BACK OUT TO FIGHT SO MORE OF THEM CAN DIE????

WHAT ABOUT TWELVE YEAR OLD WILL, DESPERATELY TRYING TO KEEP HIS OLDER SIBLINGS ALIVE KNOWING FULL WELL THAT THEY WERE GOING TO DIE OF THEIR WOUNDS FROM BATTLE????? THE PEOPLE HE’D LOOKED UP TO SINCE HE FIRST ARRIVED AT CAMP, SHUDDERING OUT THEIR LAST BREATHS IN FRONT OF HIM??

AND THEN. AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN. HE MEETS NICO. THEY BOND. EVENTUALLY, NICO TALKS ABOUT BIANCA. HE TALKS ABOUT HOW SHE DIED. HE TALKS ABOUT HOW HE FELT LIKE IT WAS PERCY’S FAULT FOR SO LONG.

AND THEN FINALLY. FINALLY. WILL TELLS SOMEONE ABOUT HOW HE FEELS. ABOUT MICHEAL. ABOUT EVERYONE WHO DIED. ABOUT PERCY. AND HE’S FINALLY STARTING TO PROCESS HIS GRIEF. HE’S ACKNOWLEDGING IT IN A WAY OTHER THAN LAYING IN BED AT NIGHT, LOOKING AT THE CEILING BUT SEEING GLOWING PYRES AND SMOKE BLOSSOMING IN THE NIGHT SKY. SEEING BLURRED STARS, SHINING JUST AS BRIGHTLY AS BEFORE. EVEN THOUGH WILL’S OWN WORLD HAS GONE DARK. EVEN THOUGH GODS KNOW MANY PEOPLE’S LIGHTS HAD GONE DARK.

AND HE ENDS UP TELLING NICO EVERYTHING. IT TUMBLES OUT AND DOESNT STOP. ITS A WATERFALL OF EVERYTHING THAT NOBODY HAS HEARD. NEVER ONCE WAS IT SPOKEN. OR ACKNOWLEDGED. OR EVEN RESPECTED. IT WAS ALWAYS SHOVED TO THE BACK OF HIS MIND. BECAUSE THERE WERE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS.

WILLIAM ANDREW SOLACE HAS SPENT HIS ENTIRE LIFE PRIORITIZING OTHERS ABOVE HIMSELF.

NICCOLÓ DI ANGELO HAS SPENT HIS ENTIRE LIFE PRIORITIZING HIMSELF LESS THAN ANYTHING.

FOR WILL, EVERYTHING ELSE CAME BEFORE HIM. FOR NICO, HE CAME AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE.

THEY ARE TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN.

[worldoshaking]

I find Y’shtola so interesting; I think she exemplifies some very fascinating dilemmas, but what’s unique about her is that they’re externalised as ways of seeing the world rather than internal emotional states. Her perspective is also a really important aspect of the story and the world.

The most fundamental thing about her is that she’s a scientist. It’s not just what she does, it’s who she is. It represents her strengths, her ambitions, her temperament, and the way she interacts with the world.

Unlike the other scions, she’s a scientist who grew up outside of Sharlayan’s academic structure, and is unbounded by its strictures and politics. She represents unbounded theoretical curiosity, independent of institutions and all their dampening considerations. It’s a beautiful, idealised vision of what science could be, if unbound by considerations like institutional approval and funding. It’s something Y’shtola learned in part from Matoya, who rejected the confines of Sharlayan academia and accomplished stupendous things in her cave.

I think this complements G’raha Tia, who represents an idealised vision of what academia could be: he explores the limits of what people can achieve together if they can throw aside clout-chasing, nepotism, petty politicking, biases, and the other things that cloud the idealism of academic institutions. G’raha is someone who fell in love with what Sharlayan represented, and came back to point out how they fell short of their own ideals. G’raha is someone who works to reform institutions; Y’shtola simply works independently of them, pushing the limits of what one person can accomplish.

Another very scientific characteristic of Y’shtola is her refusal to acknowledge limits: when she finds a thing that can’t be done, she hammers at it until it budges. She is convinced that there are answers to everything, and that science can find them. This is really something that’s fundamental to the scientific method: the idea that there’s always an answer to the question of ’why,’ and that that answer is something we can find and comprehend. What are atoms made of? Why are there only so many fundamental particles? Why do voidgates form? What is the fate of the universe? There is an answer, and she’ll find it. This is part of her initial clash with G’raha; she is insistent on the truth, and doesn’t like his keeping secrets.

She is also committed to seeing the science through, no matter what she’ll learn from it. She was ready to hear the Ea’s answer about the fate of the universe, no matter how terrible it was. And when she finds it, she’ll greet the unknown with delight; when she meets Zero, she looks the void in the face and smiles.

She’s also just a little remote, in the way of one who has spent too long staring into the heart of things. This doesn’t change the fact that she is a brave, steadfast, loyal companion to her friends, and a staunch champion of what’s right in the world. It’s something very personal; she sees things beyond the others’ sight, and her heart is preoccupied with things that are very removed from the considerations of everyday.

The Sharlayans’ performance of scientific objectivity is shown to be rooted in their very human prejudices, something that’s very true of institutional science in our world too. Y’shtola’s objectivity isn’t that sort of cold, inhumane objectivity; it isn’t a pretext for bigotry, or an abdication of responsibility. It’s something much more remote and whimsical, a commitment to a way of approaching things rather than a badge of superiority.

These are all, in a way, things that characterise the WoL, and I think they underlie the curious solidarity that builds between them post-Endwalker. The WoL, in a different way, is someone who doesn’t acknowledge the limitations of common sense, someone who looks truth in the face without flinching.

It’s also a delightful contrast, because the WoL is someone who repeatedly defies the limits of possibility, and that makes it even more interesting that they’re drawn together. Y’shtola is someone dancing at those very limits; the point where the preposterous becomes fact is where scientific discovery is born.

It’s also a very fun way of seeing science. Science as an institution is actually preoccupied with a kind of individualism - with the performance of individual merit, with the idea of the lone genius. (As we see in post-ARR, Alphinaud is misled by their accolades of the Studium to disastrous hubris.) Y’shtola might be fiercely independent, but she also isn’t that lone genius. She is utterly preoccupied with finding the answers, and not at all with any idea of personal success. The thing that lets her transcend her limits, the thing that lets her accomplish more than Matoya could, is friendship. When she works with the Scions, or Nidhana, or Zero, she can accomplish more than she ever could on her own.

I also think it’s very relevant that she’s a woman; in both our world and theirs, academia is largely male-dominated, and a lot of its flaws have to do with upholding that hegemony and not being open to more diverse perspectives. The ideal of the lone genius is overwhelmingly associated with men.

I think there’s something deeply idealistic and joyous about this unfettered spirit of scientific curiosity persisting through and after the events of Endwalker. We met the god of everything and defeated her in a duel; that doesn’t mean we know all the answers, or even all the questions. We cross paths with a far more technologically advanced civilisation, and Y’shtola is still able to have interesting scientific conversations with them. Even if many things about our world are arbitrary and uncaring, Y’shtola holds to her belief in the scientific method, and is still wholly, exuberantly committed to seeking out truths.

[happyheidi]

If you're comfortable, could you give more details on how you lost weight? Im around the same weight and would love any tips you or any followers have.

Absolutely! Glad you asked because I have a lot to say on the matter. I’ve been very thin my whole life (I was 5’ 9 when I was like 10) but when I entered my twenties a lot of traumatic things happened in my life that I won’t go into but I am 100% sure they were a reason to the quick weight gain. Looking back on it I am sure that I as a result was very destructive with my drinking and eating. And I have Depersonalization disorder (DPD) so I didn’t “see” me go from like 60 kilos to 130. The day I had to stop to catch my breath after a short hill was the day it truly clicked for me that something’s wrong, so I weighed myself and it said 136 kilos (around 300 pounds). That day I said OK, this has to change on a radical scale! So I got real militant with changing what I eat. I dropped bread entirely. So I started eating ‘knekkebrød (google translate says it’s ‘crispbread’ lol idk) w/o butter, and I stopped drinking, started eating healthy and wrote everything down using a calorie counter.

Diets are not the way to go. You just gain weight when you get of it. You have to start eating in a way u feel you can continue eating in the long run!

I didn’t goto the gym a single day during this (I don’t recommend that tho cus I wish I did it. I think it would’ve helped with excess skin. I’ve started working out now tho and I love it. It’s for strength and better mental health not really weight loss.

But yeah. Nutrition is where it’s at. And why are people so anti cheese? lol. I’m a major cheese girl so I asked a nutritionist about it and she said it’s no problem. It has calcium and protein after all. I know it’s best to eat small portions throughout the day. It’s a myth that eating many times during the day is somehow bad, it’s the very opposite as it helps boost your metabolism, which in turn helps you loose weight, so if it you eat smaller portions 5-7 times a day, that’s apparently the best (adjust it to your life tho). That’s what I did

You have to burn more calories than you gain. That’s the whole about weight loss!

The interesting thing, to me at least, is that I was at my healthiest when I was deemed ‘sickly obese’. The reason I know that is because I had a problem with my body (won’t do into detail but it had nothing to do with weight, and so I had bloodwork etc etc done for months and they came back as healthy as all hell .

That has always been really interesting to me. That when I was deemed “sickly obese” my body was the healthiest it’s ever been. Oh well.. just wanted to share that.

​try not to get too fixated on the weight tho. it’s how you feel that’s actually important!

Let me know if there’s anything else ur wondering about ;) hope this helped a little 😌❤️

[beeseverywhen]

#there's other deadly bacteria in raw milk but otherwise i mostly agree #i think the thing is you should be able to make the choice of whether you want preservatives or not. you should be able to walk into stores #and choose tobuy bread with preservatives or bread without. the preservatives should be for just that - preserving. not cutting corners. #not that this is new - basically since things starting getting industrialized food began getting stuffed with fillers #chalk and food dye to make things look fresh and literal toxic ingredients. it's why the fda was created. #i have friends with soy and corn allergies that struggle because everything is full of corn and soy #but also sometimes preservatives are in food genuinely to make it last Ionger. to keep it fresh for longer. so that itmakes it out of the #factory and off storeshelves and into yourhouse with enough time to be eaten

Just to clarify here. Food preservatives are absolutely used to preserve them so they can make it out of the factory and in to your home. The question has never been what are they being added for rather than why that is necessary. The current food supply chain makes preservatives necessary because profits are put first. Food travels further and is mass produced because it is more profitable. Food produced in that way needs preservatives because it can't get to the table quick enough to be eaten.

Yeah there's all kinds of pathogens that can be found in milk that hasn't been pasteurised. Not limited to bacteria even! However tb is the one that always comes up.

Adding additives to food isn't new you're totally right. Industrialisation brought capitalism which led to chalk being added to flour to bulk it out. It's a profit issue. Victorian bread is a great example, they added anything! And yeah, lots of people got ill and worldwide many regulations were put in place to combat this. We got to this point by people asking why. Asking. 'Ok even if it's not toxic, should it really be in bread? Are we going to accept profiteering?'

I've made a lot of posts about this stuff and as I've said before. I'm not trying to lead anyone. Alarmist panic helps nobody. What I am saying is. I think that it's healthy that we're curious about these things. That we adjust our perceptions as new evidence comes to light. We SHOULD be doing studies to check these things aren't harmful and those studies need to be conducted by people without links to food companies and conflicts of interest.

It's important that we question things. Ok they're saying this is being done for health. What other reasons might they have for saying this? What other Benefits do food companies see from this. And really importantly for americans: how are other countries doing this? Can we use data from those countries to see if our way really is best?

people who for very silly reasons want to market prepared food products without preservatives in them who then discover why we started putting preservatives in prepared food products in the first place (because without a preservation method food quickly grows stale, and frequently also moldy or downright toxic) is a consistently good bit. like people really seem to think we put Evil Chemicals in food on purpose for no reason.

[bedheaded-league]

One thing that so many people get wrong about Holmes is saying that he’s anti-social and bad with people. He’s awkward, of course, in a very classically autistic way, but when it comes down to it, he’s actually pretty good with people a lot of the time. How do we know this? He has a shocking number of acquaintances who are fiercely loyal to him.

There’s Watson, obviously, but then there are the Baker Street Irregulars, who are clearly in it for more than the pay he gives them - they always seem delighted to help him. Across various stories, Watson runs into a number of people who do whatever he wants as soon as he so much as mentions Holmes’ name. Many of their cases could only be solved because Holmes has a network of convenient people who will do basically anything for him. We don’t know what Holmes did to earn such loyalty, but we can guess - he helped them. He was kind to them. We know that he is often much kinder to the outcasts and downtrodden of society than anyone expects him to be, because we see it in his behavior.

I think that this really ties in so neatly with Holmes being both autistic and queer (however you choose to read his queerness). He doesn’t care about the rules of “polite” society, so he often insults people who consider themselves his superiors. But he is always kind to those who aren’t used to receiving kindness from the world, because he knows what that feels like. That’s why the Irregulars love working for him - he makes them feel important! Honorable! Invaluable to his heroic work! He treats them with respect that no one else in the world gives them, and it’s not just because he’s trying to get something out of them. He actually respects them.

And above all, we know that he isn’t antisocial or bad with people, because Watson loves him so much. Watson, who is by all means a much more well-adjusted member of society, is more loyal to this weird little man than he is to his own country, which he literally got shot fighting for. Because Holmes has earned his love and loyalty. Because he’s a good person. And even if he’s bad at the official rules of polite society, he’s good at being kind. And that’s what really matters.

[radiobyers]

it’s not surprising that season 3 is what made many fans see mike as queer. if you pair mike’s treatment of will & el, with mike not showing particular interest in the opposite-sex — in the same way that lucas, dustin, max, & el do — it makes sense.

it’s not being interpreted as queer because mike doesn’t show those same feelings; it’s being interpreted as queer because stranger things goes out of its way to show us the newfound tension in mike & will’s bond, alongside the differences between mike & his peers.

i mean, who struggles this much to have a girlfriend & a best friend simultaneously? why can’t he talk to his best friends about girlfriends or celebrity crushes like the others do? his communication with el is awful & he is more concerned about getting things back to normal, than actually resolving their problems. fact is, they never were resolved.

when the season starts, we see mike & will just as close as they’ve always been, but by the time the season ends, many of us are left wondering: so, are things resolved now? then the relationship troubles he’s experiencing with el, continue to co-occur with will’s feelings in season 4 & once again, mike struggles to focus on both relationships at the same time. it’s undeniably intentional now.

learning to give time to your partner & time to your friends, is an important part of growing up, but mike can’t do that. it is highlighted constantly that el & will hold a similar place in his mind. he has to be physically distant with one, to be on the same wave length with the other. when the three of them are together, they’re never all happy. & that in itself is inherently queer!! i rest my case.

[babybearnation]

insecure!arthur hurt/comfort hc's i beg of thee

oh my poor pookie :(

arthur leclerc x gn!reader (insecurity hurt/comfort headcanons)

arthur may seem confident to people who don't know him, but deep inside, he's very insecure

not good enough, not deserving enough, not quick enough, not handsome enough, not hot enough, not kind enough, not loving enough, not enough. not ever enough.

its worse when he finds someone comparing him to his brother

because even though he knows that charles would never be okay with people staying stuff like that about arthur, arthur can't help but feel like those people are speaking the truth anyways

he's very lucky he has you otherwise these thoughts would leave him totally overwhelmed

often finds himself thinking he's not a good person and you have to remind him that bad people don't worry about being bad, they just are

this sobers him up and he'll sniffle softly at you before apologising for being so insecure - just kiss him better, okay?

sometimes he finds himself questioning why ferrari still keep him on board - is it just because of who his brother is? or does he actually have something to offer?

your best course of action is to reach out to his colleagues and ask them how much he contributes to ferrari and, just like you thought, they come back to you with nothing but praise and kind words for him which helps to cheer arthur up

even though, together with charles, he broke a record in formula 1, arthur still feels despondant over how badly he performed during that fp1 session - sure he wasn't the slowest, but he wasn't exactly the quickest either

you'd have to remind him that he doesn't race consistently, so of course he wasn't gonna be the best of the best, but even if he had been the slowest, he didn't crash the car and he broke a record and surely those things are more important, right?

arthur's looks and physical appearance are a constantly source of insecurity for him

when you see so many people thirsting over your brother & putting you down as "just the other brother" or "the ugly leclerc", it hurts

sometimes he even questions why you're with him because clearly, everyone else thinks he's hideous, which means you must do as well

you'll have to use actions to get him to think straight here because words will just bounce off of him

lavish praise on his body, giving him passionate kisses and tender touches until he gets it in his head that you are with him for a multitude of reasons and his handsomeness, his hotness, his sexiness, his whateverness that he's swearing he isn't on that particular day is just a small part of why you love him

thankfully, it works

when he tells you he needs to be kinder, you can't help but laugh

because kinder? kinder than arthur leclerc? one of the kindest people you've ever met? yeah, no, that's not possible

you'll list out a million and one ways in which arthur is the kindest and he'll finally slump into your side with a defeated huff and a "and yet you're still kinder"

its about six months into your relationship when you discover a new insecurity of arthur's

sure, you weren't upset about receiving all the lovely flowers and gifts and adoring affection that arthur lavished upon you, but you were confused by it all

because, really, it came out of nowhere

until you overheard him asking charles for advice on how to be more loving towards you

you'd interrupted the phone call and wished charles a good day before hanging up and telling arthur that he was loving enough and he didn't need to do anything to impress you because you were already thoroughly impressed and in love with him

like hello?! he already has you, after all

and that is the biggest thing that makes arthur's insecurities sink and melt away - he has you and you love him for him

and that's all that matters!

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Bound By Blood

Prologue

First position —Your heels are together and your toes are pointed out as you watch. You inhale slowly, your lungs taking in the air of this dance studio. The first of the ballet steps has you moving to a routine that is so engrained in your memory. You watch your reflection in the mirror as you stand there your arms by your sides, a slight bend to your elbows.

Second position — Your feet slide apart to a comfortable distance, a natural shift that you had almost perfected with your years dancing. Your arms shift as well with the new position, stretching out like wings that you wish could give you the power of flight.

Third position — Your foot slides across the floor, the heel of your front foot touching the arch of your back foot. The music that plays is drowned out and muffled by what’s going on in your mind. Your breathing increases as the weight of something unseen seems to bear down on your shoulders.

Fourth position — Your lips move to the words of a melody that briefly rings out in your mind. You slide your front foot further away from your body and toward an imaginary audience. You see them, sitting or standing along the wall across from you, their judging gazes making your stomach jolt.

Fifth position — The toes of your feet are turned as much as possible to contact the heel of the other foot. You stand there for a moment, your chest rising and falling with each shaking and deliberate breath as you keep your eyes forward.

The basic positions are just the start, and when the music picks up you dart forward. The material of your ballet skirt flounces as you move, as you dance to a routine that has once been pounded into your mind. It was habit, natural and inescapable motions that you had practiced for hours upon hours.

To some ballet was a passion, it was an obsession for others. For you the artistry of the dance was not so much chosen but forced upon you. Your mother and father had wanted you to grow in the arts as well as academically. You were thrusted into the hobbies and activities that the rich and famous pushed their kids into.

Your father was a man who had made his wealth doing illegal and grim things. He was the head of a steadily growing criminal empire with important figures of power in his pockets to protect him from the rigorous and vengeful law. As such, your mother and yourself were given a life of luxury that many had strived for.

Your mother had sent you to a private school when you were in elementary. It was a choice that followed you through to high school, with the goal of attending a private Ivy League university if you chose.

The schooling decisions your parents made had bled over to the activities you were enrolled in. Your mother wanted you to be enriched by the classical and most artfully adept activities that you could be. It was an importance to your mother that you used the wealth your father incurred for you to have a good future.

Whether that be university or marriage.

And it started with ballet at the age of 4. Your mother hand enrolled you in an exclusive class when you were just a young girl, making you push through despite any protests you might have had. When you were younger you found ballet fun, it was something for you to do and it made your mother happy to see you in the little tutu’s. As you grew however you became disillusioned by the beautiful dance.

It had become less an enjoyable experience and more of a way for your mother to make your set of skills appealing to a future husband. It had appeared that no matter what social class your mother would have belonged to, she would try and find a good marriage for you.

It’s what her mother did for her.

Your arms and feet moved gracefully as you danced across the studio floor to the classical music playing through the speakers. Every movement was calculated, every step was drilled into you to the point of perfection—a point you’d reached from the teachers and dance instructors who made you repeat any move you screwed up. You were made to be perfect in the dance because anything less than perfection was a fail.

Grand allegro is the jump you had made in the empty studio. A wall of mirrors had given you a glimpse of yourself as you pulled off the routine by memory. Your body twisted and turned, your arms had retraced the path through those old steps.

You moved as gracefully as you could under the weight of what was inflicting your mind. Your breath rose and fell heavily as you came to a stop, as the dance was over. Your eyes flit across the mirrors when a sound like a soft rolling thunder had broken through the veil of music.

Suddenly you looked over your shoulder, hearing the sound of hands connecting with the other. A clap, soft thundering in its nature from the powerful owner, had truly broken you out of the daze you were in.

“What a pretty little ballerina.” His husky and raspy accent had elicited shivers that ran down your spine, only aided by the vivaciousness of his eyes. “Beautiful, aren’t you? I never knew you could dance like that.”

Coming from anyone else it might have been a genuine compliment.

But Simon Ghost Riley didn’t compliment anyone without the there being some nefarious double meaning attached to it. It was in his nature as the Ghost who single handedly incurred the loyalty of a small army—while simultaneously creating an image for himself as a devil.

The man who could strike fear into the depths of any soul with a single glance, a whistle that was as sharp as a knife glinting across skin to draw blood. He was haunting, he was beautiful in an ethereally dark way—he was both captive and protector.

“This is all yours, poppet.” His footsteps were calculated, his left hand falling to the pocket of his pants while his right lifted a cigarette to his lips. “You should thank me, I had it built for you.”

You breathe in and out. You’re unwillingly and slowly filling your lungs with the scent of him and the smoke of the dart between his fingers. You smell the alluring richness of the qualities of his cologne, deep and complex yet not overpowering.

“You negated to let me go home.” You swallow and lick your lips, feeling sweat rolling down the back of your neck. You can pretend it was from dancing but you know its from him.

“Negated?” He whistles with a sarcasm laced smirk slowly building on his face. “Big words love…”

“What do you want?” He’s a foot away from you, the distance lessening with every second that passes between you. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

He reaches out and grabs your waist, with a sharp hook he pulls you to his body. His nose is pressed against your neck, breathing in the scent of your sweat and the lingering notes of the perfume you had put on earlier. His voice is a low rumbling growl as he starts back you up to lean against the cool glass of the mirror. Your bare shoulders touch and you shiver again, the signal of your chilled skin just another factor that makes him press into you.

“I negated to let you go,” he raises his head, the intensity of his eyes striking you deep as he stares into your soul, “because you’re mine. I negated to let you go because I’m not finished with you yet.”

His hands grab the back your thighs, hoisting you from the ground as he keeps you pressed against the mirrored wall. His eyes bore into your own and he tilts his head, watching you; studying you.

“Don’t look so scared, darling-“ he captures your chin in his free hand, keeping you held against the wall with his body and one hand. “-we’re bonded by blood now.”