#he feeds dream too so it tracks

[lookinghalfacorpse]

If butterflies are c!Dream's chat, then are they actively hunted/distrusted on the server? Like someone sees a butterfly, and their immediate first reaction is to try to smash it or chase it away? Also, consider: you can, if you look closely, see who is sympathetic to or allied with c!Dream because of how they react to the butterflies and how the butterflies react to them. You already mentioned c!Techno, but what about:

-Butterflies flock to the areas around c!Punz's tower, and there's usually one or two riding on his shoulder or hair, hiding in his clothing, flitting behind him as he goes places. They're of course considerate enough to not mob him all the time, so as not to give him away to the rest of the server.

-After c!Bad starts letting them hitch a ride with him on his guard shifts and sandwich runs, butterflies begin following him around, too. He leaves out saucers of sugar water and plants more flowers in his garden for them. He can't do much besides the sandwiches for Dream, but at least he can ensure that his chat doesn't go hungry.

-A butterfly or two can almost always be found fluttering around in c!Ranboo's immediate vicinity. They try to stay out of sight when c!Tubbo is around, though, they make him very nervous, and he will sometimes sic his bees on them if he sees one.

-During his first week on the server, c!Michael McChill saw c!Sapnap trying to charbroil a large, pretty green butterfly and saved its life. Butterflies don't go out of their way to find him, but they pointedly don't avoid him the way they avoid most of the other server members.

-There's always at least one butterfly keeping watch over c!George's house. Always.

if the butterflies want to live (and also want their owner to live), they'd definitely be smart to stay hidden. surely every butterfly on the server, even if they WEREN'T a part of dream's chat, would be killed quickly for fear that it was spying on dream's behalf. and since dream's allies are typically very secretive about their relation to him, they'd also have to kill every butterfly they see in public or risk looking suspicious. punz has already crushed a few under his heel while he was walking around, knowing that if he didn't, he might give away their alliance. and god forbid anyone sees the one that's folded itself into the crevices of his breastplate.

post-prisonbreak, sapnap could've easily used the butterflies as a way of tracking dream they don't gather on the outside of the walls like they used to while he was still imprisoned. they broke bad's heart when they did that. they were desperate to reach him. (when george broke a block of the obsidian on the wall, they were right there with him, ready to swarm into the hole he made. it was useless, of course.) but now they don't, so any onlooker assumes dream has left.

butterflies are usually considered the least frightening insect, but they'd get quite the reputation on the server.

[hxney-lemcn]

Care for Yourself my Love — Overblots x gn! reader

summery: taking care of yourself wasn't your best skill, thankfully you have someone to help you build it up.

tw: unhealthy eating habits! If you're sensitive to this please don't read this fic! I'm not glorifying or romanticizing this, I just wish I had someone to help keep me on track (you'll notice I make the reader actively try to better themselves). mentions of depression/depressive traits (leona, idia).

a/n: I wanted to write something, ik people have done this already but here's my two cents because I've delt/deal with this too

wc: 1.7k (~250 per character)

Master List

Riddle Rosehearts

You don’t try to be so forgetful, it’s just you're either always running late or you find yourself procrastinating to the point you don’t have time. Unfortunately, your carelessness has gotten to the best of you and you found yourself nearly passing out while preparing for the upcoming unbirthday party. Even more unlucky, you swayed dizzily in front of Riddle, nearly toppling over and knocking over paint buckets. At first he felt his temper flare, that paint wasn’t cheap and now they’ll have to get more. Not only that, but now your shoes, socks, and pants were covered in red paint. But then he noticed the concerned look on Trey’s face and how you held onto him for support while holding your head, eyes closed tight. That was when the worry set in, were you alright? Why had you been so clumsy in the first place? You apologized to the two, casually bringing up how you can’t remember eating anything yet and that was most likely the cause. After that, Riddle tried keeping track for you, scolding you anytime you mumbled about forgetting to eat. How could you forget something so important! You couldn't learn properly if you didn’t take care of yourself. Not to mention the heart attack he nearly gets every time he recalls that moment of you nearly fainting in the rose garden. He doesn’t want that to happen again, so he’ll continue to help you out until you learn to take care of yourself better.

Leona Kingscholar

Honestly…I think he’s in the same boat. People call him lazy, selfish, and rude, and his only escape from all his problems is his dreams. Where people love him, where he’s important, where he’s cherished. So this can go one of two ways. 1) You both feed into each other's bad habits and become worse. Or 2) you notice his bad habits, and in trying to correct them (Ruggie helps tremendously with this…he also gets free food so he doesn’t mind) you find yourself improving on your own. Leona lets you take however much money you want, little does he know, most of that money is being used on him as well. You end up buying matching water bottles on a whim and you find yourself actually drinking a healthy amount of water now. This also goes for Leona, as every time you get food, you bring some for him, every time you go to get water, you bring some for him. In fact, he actually uses the water bottle you bought him, but it's only cus it reminds him of you…not that you’ll ever know. Slowly over time, you both improve each other, and you find yourselves feeling more healthy than ever before. Especially when Leona decides to have you join him for his spell drive training, making you participate in it as well. Not because he hates you, but he sees what you’ve done for him, and wants to help you in his own way in return…he just makes it seem and feel like a punishment. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a sharp one that never lets a detail go. He noticed your bad habits from the start. It only bit him back when he started to genuinely care for you. He felt his mind want to tear itself apart when you came by the lounge after school, immediately being placed in his VIP room, and him hearing your stomach growl. When he asked if you wanted food you denied, stating you didn’t have the funds. That made him want to rip Crowley apart. Instead of letting that anger show, he only smiled, making up some bullshit about how its on the house today. Azul made sure that the Leech twins kept an eye on you, and if your self-destructive habits got too out of hand they would step in. At first you were apprehensive when Jade would randomly appear, asking if you’ve eaten or drank anything recently. Azul nearly broke down in tears when one time you shrugged nonchalantly, asking if it mattered. It was then that you realized that your habits not only affected you, but the people you cared about as well. So you promised him you’d try to better yourself. If you forgot breakfast you at least had a granola bar on hand. If you forgot water, Floyd would throw a water bottle at you. It was a slow process, but after a while you started taking better care of yourself, and all Azul could do was breathe a sigh of relief. He was not going to let someone he cared about become their own greatest downfall. 

Jamil Viper

At first, he’s annoyed. Out of spite he won’t help you, his gray eyes watching to see you stumble with slight gratification. Those feelings soon crumbled the closer you two got, and that gratification slipped into apprehension. Jamil was going to lose all his hair at this rate. So when you forgot to buy food, or used all your money for other necessities Jamil started packing you a lunch alongside his own and Kalim’s. He quickly grew annoyed at how pleased he felt when he watched you scarff down his food, exclaiming how great it was. You forgot how warm the Scarabia dorm was and were currently sweating to death beneath all your layers? Don’t worry, Kalim had bought you tons of outfits already (no matter how much Jamil tried to stop him), he’ll take you to a spare room for you to change. You start feeling woozy, there’s a seat nearby and he’s already got water and a snack. Even though he’s still a bit annoyed he had to do all this in the first place…you had managed to wiggle your way into a soft spot in his heart. So for you, he doesn’t mind taking care of you. Not as long as you promise to try and learn to take care of yourself as well, because he’s not sure how much more his heart can take seeing you accidentally hurt yourself in one way or another. Plus, he won’t always be there to stabilize you…not unless you choose to stay by his side. 

Vil Schoenheit

This mf knew right away. He could tell with the way you cared so greatly for others, that you had no room to care for yourself. Vil makes a whole schedule for you, when you should eat, drink water, and exercise to be your best self. You are now an honorary pomefiore student with the way he treats you. Even with the added slack of not living on the dorm grounds…you’re still not safe. Vil gets spider senses with you slacking on self care and sends Rook to check in on you. He makes you set alarms, gets you a fashionable yet hefty water bottle for you to carry around. Honestly…he works the best when it comes to self care. He doesn’t even have to text you anymore, you’ll be slouching and he’ll pop in your mind and you fix your posture. Talk about living in your mind rent free. He’s also the harshest, his whole thing is being your best self and he’ll be damned to see you hurt yourself because you weren’t thinking clearly due to not eating enough. It all comes from a place of care though, he’s just not the best at expressing that. Just know that every time he scolds you it’s because he cares about you. If it gets too much though just tell him, he’ll pamper you a bit with a self care spa day sometime soon. At the end of the day, he wants to see you thrive, not survive. 

Idia Shroud

…worst person. Sorry. He’s worse than Leona. At least Leona is a part of a sport and still has to slightly take care of himself because of that. Idia has no motivation whatsoever. He is in his room nearly 24/7 with barely any contact outside. Never drinks water, barely eats (it's mostly snacks at that), and does he even sleep? Ortho is the one who does constant check-ins and brings him food and water. Although Ortho keeps constant health checks, he can’t help but be sad everytime he sees his brother push food to the side and forget about it. So if you’re looking for someone to help you with your habits I’m sorry but Idia will feed into your bad ones. If anything, it's Ortho helping you out. One time, you and Ortho had a little cooking hang out, and you brought a portion to Idia, and he ate it right away. It was then that Ortho found out a way to make you and his brother eat more. So expect more invites to cook with Ortho. In fact, he even got Idia to join! How fun! Even though the outcomes were more or less mid, you all had fun while making it. It got to the point that you and Ortho would keep challenging yourselves and would have Idia be your taste tester. Besides, how could he say no to you when you stared at him so expectantly? Just don’t ask why he never rates your food under a 7 out of 10. 

Malleus Draconia

Fae’s and humans were similar and different. One big difference was how much one needed to consume in order to sustain themself. You’d think a dragon fae would need to eat a lot in order to sustain such a powerful body, but they actually eat less. So if anything, Malleus didn’t see anything abnormal about how little you ate or drank. So when you immediately fell back in your seat after attempting to stand up, Malleus had rushed to your side, unsure what was wrong. You smiled in a carefree manner while trying to wave away his worry, explaining how you probably should’ve eaten more. It was then that he realized he had been negligent about your health and went to Lilia for answers. He visibly paled when Lilia told him humans needed to eat at least three times a day and drink tons of water. Now you have a dragon fretting over you 24/7. He knew humans were fragile, but every day he finds out they’re more fragile than he originally thought which caused him to fuss over you. You needed to eat more, child of man, he doesn’t want you leaving him earlier than expected. Humans die if they don’t drink water for three days? He now carries a water bottle for you everywhere you go. You’ll never have to worry about forgetting to eat again…in fact, you’re probably pleading with Malleus to give you a break, you’ll die if you overeat too…which causes him to spiral again…

[kissedsuns]

chasing cars.

cw: angst, mentions of logan sargeant being dropped, established rel w/ oscar piastri & more

this wasn't how things were supposed to go—not for you, anyway.

your first win was meant to be sensational, a moment of pure euphoria. the kind where you leap out of your car, proud, standing on top of the cockpit with your fist raised high, showing the world and your team what you'd accomplished. it should've felt like you were on top of the world.

but it didn't. not for you, anyway.

a few nights before, you were cozied up in bed, lazily reaching for your phone on the bedside table. the screen lit up, and you squinted, shielding your eyes from the sudden glare. you opened instagram, expecting to see plenty of media about the upcoming race in monza—a track you'd been looking forward to racing at for awhile.

it was also a track your close friend, logan, was excited about. you and he practically grew up together, alongside oscar, who you shared an even closer bond with—so close that you found yourself sleeping in one of his baggy tees.

but that morning, your feed showed something you weren't exactly expected: an image on formula 1's instagram page, boldly announcing that logan sargeant would be dropped from williams midway through the season.

your jaw literally dropped as you stared at the post—a sad picture of logan at the center, remaining on your screen for what felt like an eternity.

you didn't know what to do. should you message him? call him? but then you wondered, why hadn't he called you?

logan told you everything, no matter how gross or disturbing. so why not this?

taking a deep breath, you decided to message him, sending a simple greeting before jumping straight into it, asking if he was okay and what was going on.

to which you received no response.

you felt sick to your stomach for the rest of the morning. and when you finally arrived at the paddock in monza later that week, it became increasingly harder to shake the discomfort.

logan hadn't spoken to you in days, and though it hurt, you understood. why would he want to talk to anyone after what happened?

he'd been axed halfway through the season, his dreams of becoming a successful formula 1 driver were pretty much over. meanwhile, here you were, thriving in a team that adored you.

mercedes was a great environment, and the support from your teammate, george russell, only made it better. but that heavy, guilty feeling gnawed at you. you felt so guilty you were almost choking on it.

as you navigated through the crowd of journalists, eager to get something out of you, you were determined to give them nothing. you had nothing to give, anyway.

you felt far too alone in the paddock, and despite george's reassuring pat on your shoulder when you arrived at the team hub, it wasn't enough.

you couldn't focus during the drivers' briefing or even pay attention to what toto was explaining to you and george—something about strategies, but you didn't hear a word.

despite achieving strong results in practice and securing p2 in qualifying, race day—a day you'd usually be excited for—was now something you just wanted to get through as quickly as possible.

a few comments were made when you arrived that day. your forced smile made it obvious that you weren't taking the news quite well.

it wasn't as if logan had died or couldn't visit the paddock to support you as a friend. but it had just become a habit to have him around.

the driver's parade usually had the two of you laughing at some of the fans in the crowd or chatting about what you did over the week. oscar, usually with lando on the other side of the truck, would eventually join you both, which you loved.

after the race, you'd often drag logan over to parc fermé, giving him a big hug and congratulating him on his effort, even if he wasn't thrilled with his performance. you'd always try to bring a smile to his face, seeing those eyes that once sparkled with pride.

but that sparkle was gone now.

as you reluctantly climbed onto the driver's truck, you stood with your back to the railing, leaning against it as you found yourself staring blankly into the crowds.

no chatter, no smiles—nothing. and everyone noticed.

a few drivers glanced your way with concern written all over their faces, which only made oscar rush over to you. "it's really hard seeing you like this," he began.

"i don't know what you're on about." you tried to brush him off.

"i know you," he said, doing something that managed to bring a tiny bit of comfort. "you don't have to pretend like you're holding up okay, because i know you're not."

oscar's words should've been enough to make you feel less isolated. that undeniable charm of his could usually turn your frown upside down. but with your best friend of seven years stripped from formula 1 and the potential of racing alongside him again gone, you couldn't find it in you to smile.

you avoided conversation for the rest of the day, your mind fixated on just getting through it so you could check your phone—hoping, maybe, logan had messaged you back. maybe even wished you good luck for the race.

settling into the seat of your car, helmet snug on your head, you waited for the race to start.

as the track cleared and the lights went out, your mind drifted back to the one thing that wouldn't leave your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to shove it away.

logan sargeant. best friend. dedicated racer. boy with a dream. hilarious. american. embarrassed. struggling. logan sargeant.

you slammed your foot on the pedal, pushing your car to its limits. the engine roared, tires screeched, and the sound of the crowd erupting in cheers as you passed max verstappen filled your ears.

but you didn't smile. you didn't even grin. you sobbed.

you sobbed because there was a boy back home in america who would never get to hear those cheers for him.

a tear slid down your cheek as you flew down the track, just wanting to see that checkered flag wave so you could go home. go home and bury your face in your pillow and cry even harder.

and that was it. the finale.

your race engineer nearly deafened you with his shouts about your win—your second career victory. but you didn't care.

"thanks, guys. great job. uh, the car was awesome! thanks so much. thanks," you tried to sound convincing as you waved to the fans in the grandstands.

at the parc fermé, where you would usually share a moment with logan, you stood alone, holding your helmet as your eyes scanned the area as if expecting to see your friend.

lando smiled and patted your back, while max gave you a firm handshake. it felt good, and you were proud of how much effort the team put in to ensure that this would happen, but in truth, you didn't care much for the trophy that awaited you.

oscar eventually came up to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist in a hug. he congratulated you, planting a kiss on your cheek that brought a faint smile to your lips.

you could tell that, despite oscar's calm attitude, he felt terrible for logan too. he was just better at hiding it. his tight-lipped smile and sad eyes slightly gave it away, unfortunately.

your team pulled you into a tight hug, some toppling over others as they fought to congratulate you.

this wasn't how you were supposed to feel after winning your second race in your formula 1 career. this was supposed to be special. you should've been hugging oscar and giving logan a huge cheer.

when the post-race interviews commenced, you stood by your stand, a blank expression on your face as you stared at the floor, utterly bored.

you gave short answers to the reporter, hoping he'd hurry up and let you go. the way he grimaced at your tone and choice of words showed he knew you weren't feeling it, and he eventually took the hint.

you felt bad for letting your miserable attitude affect others. the drivers' room was no different, with lando and max talking about the race and making funny noises at the screen if there was a collision.

you sat there, staring at the first-place cap in your hands. bored. you were bored.

max and lando exchanged a look before glancing at you with softened expressions. they didn't know logan well; hardly anyone on the grid did. they couldn't understand the disappointment you felt knowing you would never be able to celebrate with your best mate ever again.

finally, the podium celebration—a time to get drenched in champagne and hear your national anthem play as you proudly stand on the top step with a wide smile, watching your team gaze up at you with admiration.

but when it was time to step on that podium, the crowd cheered, the anthem played, and you smiled. but there was no logan sargeant in the crowd, beaming up at you with his own fist raised, as if to say, "i'll be up there with you soon. just wait."

the champagne was popped, and before you could process it, lando tipped the rest of his bottle onto your head.

you cringed at the cold liquid streaming down your neck and seeping into your race suit. the taste of victory should've been sweet. it should've felt amazing.

but without your best friend, could it ever feel that way?

as you left the paddock, oscar's fingers intertwined with yours, trophy in the other hand, you pulled out your phone.

your breath hitched as you saw the notification—logan sargeant.

without a second thought, you opened the message.

the screen revealed just six words, and they were enough to shatter you entirely.

"i knew you could do it."

© kissedsuns

[targaryenluvs]

— the hand that feeds you

pairing: dark!aemond targaryen x fem!handmaid!reader

summary: you’d shown kindness to aemond early on as his handmaid, from which a friendship bloomed. but aemond had grown a dependency on it, and on you.

warnings: obsession, pining, arranged marriage

a/n: i haven’t written for hotd in soooo long, based on this request! i did change it up and have them be friends rather than her not liking him <3

he would not leave you be. aemond targaryen was obsessed with you, his sweet maid, for years.

it had stemmed from his childhood, the day after the incident with the velaryons. his old maid was frightened of him, and his disfigurement. she’d quit once she fully laid eyes on the little prince, so horrified she ran out of the red keep and hadn’t come back since. but life goes on. your mother worked at the red keep, one of queen alicents ladies.

your mother had hoped for you to work by her, perhaps under the princess helaena. but alicent had hoped for someone to take aemond on, and with how sweet you seemed from your own mothers tales she figured it be best to trial you with him. and lucky it worked.

aemond was standoffish at first, understandably so.

he was cold and rude, never bothering to stay around long enough for you to get a word in, your efforts discarded. but over time you’d managed to get him to open up. your soft demeanour was suspicious to him, half the people in his own castle couldn’t meet his eye, they talked to him and tolerated him out of respect for his station, above them. not because he was aemond targaryen.

your kindness was one in few, a rare occurrence. and soon enough a friendship blossomed between yourself and the prince. it may not have seemed so by any on lookers but aemond felt comfort in your words, your touch, in you. you’d never meant it as anything else but friendly.

aemond was smart, and wise, unbearably so for his age yet it never seemed to register with others in his early years. you noticed, you helped him bring it out. and soon enough aemond found himself craving for you, however he could get you. and as he grew his love did too. unknown to you of course.

you’d watched him grow from a young boy to a grown man, skilled and talented, more so than most. you admired his hard work, the hours he spent into building himself up, getting past his reputation as the disfigured boy, a distinguished prince now. feared as well, his skill with his sword was fascinating, the way he moved and fought was remarkable. his gorgeous silver locks, and sculptured face.

he was fascinating, but you only saw him as a friend.

you were now a young woman, stunning and intelligent, a woman grown. you’d been moved to be under helaena, which had upset aemond deeply, but he didn’t let anyone know.

and of course he knew that men would be coming for you. your own lordly father drowning in marriage proposals for his own daughter, of which you were blissfully unaware under false pretence and promise that you’d marry whoever you wished.

so why not enter himself in the list?

his name was quick to garner attention of course, and rose to the top of your fathers list immediately. a targaryen prince, wanting his daughters hand in marriage. was there anyone else better?

of course not.

aemond would finally have the girl he’d hoped and dreamed for since childhood, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. you wanted this, right?

what aemond didn’t anticipate was your rejection.

“aemond you are but a friend of mine, a good one of course. but you’ll marry a gorgeous lady, more well known than i, you’ll be happy. and i’ll marry lord james, he’s quite sweet, i like him.” the two of you had been walking in the garden, talking of the future when aemond brought up the idea of your marriage.

his one good eye began to sting, perhaps there was something in his eye.

“y/n.” his voice was stern and unwavering as you stopped in your tracks, your dress spinning as you turned on your heel, “my prince?” he hated your formality, he expected it from everyone but you. “you are already set to be mine, out betrothal is set.” you shook your head immediately, “no, no my father promised!”

aemond found your crying incessant and irritating. “it’s set, there’s nothing you can do. would you rather marry a random man, or me? i know you, y/n, and i know i can treat you better than any man alive. i will spoil you, i will care for you more so than i already do. with me, you’ll never have to worry about anything.” your tears annoyed him to no end, yet he’d let you cry for now.

for when the tears dried, and a new day dawned, you’d be tied to him, forever.

and who on earth would you be to bite the hand that feeds you?

[qqueenofhades]

i do genuinely hesitate to ask, as i am sure i will find out more than i meant to in time, but atm my various feeds and an uninformed google are not telling me what most recently exploded about the british government, so if you have the time and the inclination i'm agog for your summary/take

HOO BOY. It has been a Things Exploding In the British Government day to the extent that in the hour-odd between my previous post and this one, I had to go back and check if anything ELSE had exploded while I wasn't looking. Everything that they are currently denying will probably be confirmed within the next 12 hours or less, though, so nobody get too comfortable.

Anyway, we all remember how Liz Truss succeeded Boris Johnson as Prime Minister, met the Queen, the Queen immediately fucking croaked which honestly was the funniest time she could possibly have done it, the country ground to a total halt for ten days, and then when it got going again, Truss and her chancellor (aka finance minister, for those of you happily ignorant of British politics), Kwasi Kwarteng, proposed a Thatcherite wet-dream economic plan of unfunded massive tax cuts for rich people, because something something Stimulate Growth. We are also generally aware that this crashed the pound through the floor, blew up people's mortgages and other mildly important bills, and did nothing to deal with the actual energy bills/cost of living crisis currently engulfing the UK. Oops.

After absolutely everybody, including the commie socialists at the Bank of England, screamed OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU MORONS DOING???, and the day after Kwarteng insisted he would absolutely remain in post and he had 100% confidence in the Plan, he... got sacked for creating this, the Plan that Truss had asked him to deliver and which had won her the Tory party members' election. This made him officially the second-shortest serving chancellor in UK history aside from the guy who literally died in office. Womp womp. That will be a pub quiz answer for you. You're welcome.

Having spent all this time hiding from the press, then giving eight-minute press conferences during which you could literally track the pound crashing in real time, and performing more U-turns than a dancing dashboard hood ornament, Liz Truss took a break from her busy schedule of conducting the Economic Disaster Waltz in the key of B Fucked to appoint Jeremy Hunt as the new chancellor. Jeremy Hunt is mostly notable for being a Tory who can put his pants on without assistance and being a genteel failure at all the previous cabinet posts he's held, which is why he is now regarded as a "safe pair of hands" in a party that has dissolved into a lot of shit-flinging coked-up gibbons who can only scream BREXIT BREXIT BREXIT and IMMIGRATION IS BAD!!! (Side note: they recently had to cancel a festival designed to "celebrate the freedoms of Brexit" due to logistics issues associated with, you guessed it, Brexit. That is not directly relevant to the current clusterfuck, but it is too funny not to include.)

To nobody's surprise, Jeremy Hunt then ripped up the entire economic plan and offered a new one, which was not measurably better than the last one but at least reversed some of the most egregious cuts, and which made everyone ask if Liz Truss had been tied up and duct-taped in the boot of a Range Rover and/or if Hunt had secretly staged a coup with the help of Larry the Downing Street Cat and taken over the government. Probably nobody in the Tory party would mind very much if he had, because they were all busy either planning how to oust Truss or publicly denying that they were indeed planning to oust Truss. One of the popular names for her successor? Boris Johnson! No, I am not making this up. Maybe this has all been a horrible dream and we're going to wake up and find that BoZo is back in charge, after massive public scandal for being a serial liar, which he had been from Day 1, finally made him resign. I repeat, what even the hell is going on here. Nobody knows. Meanwhile, Hunt is warning about even more budget austerity and "eye-watering" cuts to public services that can least afford it, because the last decade didn't result in quite enough preventable deaths for the Tories' tastes, and because they have been forced into this by a car crash completely of their own making.

....anyway. This brings us, more or less, to today. Yesterday, Truss refused to commit to protecting something called the pensions triple lock, which guarantees that old-age pensions (the UK form of social security) will rise in line with inflation, costs, or earnings. A) Inflation in the UK is now at a whopping 10.1%, and B) given as old people are literally the only demographic still willing to vote for the Tories, this miiiiiight seem like an even more unnecessarily stupid and self-sabotaging idea. Sure enough, U-Turn Number Eight Million was duly performed this morning, and Truss insisted she had always intended for the triple lock to be protected. But would Universal Credit and other welfare/benefits programs also be adjusted upward for inflation? HELL NAH! THOSE ARE FOR POOR PEOPLE! GROSS!

This, however, was only the beginning of the unpeeling of the latest idiot banana. Keir Starmer, riding high on the back of recent polls that have given Labour a 36-point lead and predicted that the Tories could be left with as few as 22 seats in Parliament if a general election was called tomorrow (leaving the SNP as the official opposition), appeared at Prime Minister's Questions and got to shoot fish in a barrel. Truss did not dissolve into a pile of goo on the floor and/or have a bucket of water thrown on her and melt into Margaret Thatcher, so that was taken as a win. Well, at least for two hours or so. Then Suella Braverman, the ex-Attorney General who had briefly run for the leadership when BoZo resigned, and who exists along with Priti Patel in order to prove that in the modern Tory party, women of color can heroically be just as much as awful xenophobic monsters as crusty old white dudes, resigned as Home Secretary. Did you even know she was Home Secretary? Neither did she. She took over Patel's job in a bid to apparently make Patel look cute and cuddly by comparison, as she is even more determined to do horrible things to migrants as much as possible. The official reason given for her resignation was that she sent an official document from her personal email account, and this had something to do with immigration and/or the Office of Budget Responsibility forecast that the Tories have, in the valiant spirit of freedom, resisted actually publishing for any of their current economic plans. CONSERVATIVES ARE GOOD FOR THE ECONOMY!! yell people on both sides of the Atlantic. Oh-kay.

Anyway, Braverman used her resignation letter to blast Truss for pretending that everything was fine and dandy, which means the BUT HER EEEEEEMAILS was absolutely just an excuse and even she wanted off this sinking ship as fast as possible. Grant Shapps is now the Home Secretary. It's not important. The point is, if more ministers start resigning, the government will probably implode just as it did when they deserted BoZo en masse. What the hell happens then? Fuck if anyone knows. Since they will, as noted, get absolutely cosmically annihilated if they call a General Election, the Tories will resist doing that with all their might (the next one isn't due until 2024, which is about 1004329 years away at the current rate that time is passing here). Truss was already elected by a tiny minority of the country (about 160,000 Tory party members). STICK RISHI SUNAK IN THERE AND CHANGE THE RULES AGAIN?? HECK, SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN! KEEP THOSE MUSICAL CHAIRS COMING, CHAPS!

(Also: we will recall the Daily Star's Lettuce Cam, where a picture of Liz Truss has been placed next to a head of lettuce to see if she is kicked out of office before it rots away. It now has a special companion, Tofu. This is because Braverman, just yesterday, gave a speech attacking the latest round of climate protesters as being spurred on by Labour, the Lib Dems, and the "Guardian-reading, tofu-eating wokerati," which she doubtless thought was a very clever line at the time. Because British Twitter is British Twitter, the Tofu: 1, Braverman: 0 jokes have been rife.)

And since we are still not done: tonight, Labour forced a vote on a fracking ban which was being treated as a de facto confidence vote in the government. Aka if the Tories voted for it, they would be considered to be defying the government. Because Britain is a cartoon country run by clowns, the method of Parliamentary voting literally involves walking through Door A for Aye and Door B for Nay. The "whips," or the people whose job it is to assure that party members vote according to the government's position, have thus been known to physically stuff recalcitrant MPs through these doors, because Hail Britannia, or something. So we soon had reports that the anti-fracking vote was, dare I say it, a total clusterfrack, and the Tory whips were literally throwing crying Tory MPs through the Nay door so they would Vote To Support The Government. This sounds like a beginning to a Monty Python sketch, but it is just another ordinary evening in British politics in 2022! (Did Truss herself vote? Or BoZo, Patel, or any of the other Tory big beasts? Nope. Evidently she was "too distracted" with all the other crises going on, which probably means she just didn't want to show her face or she might get killed. Hard to blame her.)

So: the fracking ban was defeated, Labour MPs were like "oh my god the sheer clownery," even Tory MPs were spitting mad, we soon had more rumors that both the Tory chief whip and the deputy chief whip had resigned (currently in the Official Denial stage, so yeah, that will be confirmed before tomorrow morning), and I haven't even mentioned the part where one of Liz Truss's press aides admitted that they used to lie about various relatives of hers having just died so Truss didn't have to do interviews (actual quote: "just aunts and cousins, not any major relatives!"). We all wondered if that wasn't actually a lie but the minor members of the Truss family had voluntarily decided to die rather than have anyone know that they were related to her. Either that or she just sent MI6 after them. It's entirely possible.

[fanfiction4sooya]

Hello, lovely! I'm so excited to see that you're accepting requests again! If its not much trouble, may I please request something for Bada? Whether it be g!p or her with a strap but maybe her usually shy and inexperienced girlfriend surprises her by asking to be dominated for the first time, how she wants to be claimed by her in every way and reminded who she belongs too. And maybe reader calling Bada mommy or daddy because we all know Bada is mommy coded and daddy coded. She can do both. 🥵 (*Sorry I got side tracked, but dominant daddy Bada is so sexy to me.*)

Daddy Bada is something istg.... Thanks for the request, luv!! 💖💖 Hope you like it!

cw: nsfw, + 18, gagging, strapon usage, face slapping, spanking, cum play, orgasm delay, nipple play, a lot of pet names, choking, daddy kink, not really proofread;

🌸🌸🌸-

You and Bada had been going out for months now, everything was good, smooth even. She was a gentlewoman, so caring and funny and overall a calming presence, always leading you through things without you even noticing.

She was absolutely perfect, your dream come true. But there was one slight problem... the sex.

Not that it wasn't good, it was great. And although you always got satisfied you always felt like she wasn't 100% there, as if she was holding herself back the whole time. She always treated you as her precious little porcelain doll and that was great and all but it bothered you that she neglected her needs for it. And even though you were so shy you tried your best to think of a solution, to change that. You were going to be bold, yeah. Like why not? The worse thing she can do is tell you no.

You had the perfect plan.

She gave you the spare keys to her house a few days back to feed her dog and to hang out as she spent a few days out of town for some idol's MV, so you got everything prepared in the mean while.

You patiently sat on her couch, robe securely tied around your waist and a cute set of black lingerie underneath it, really hoping she wouldn't laugh at you. You knew she wasn't that type of person, but you were still a bit anxious.

You heard her motorcycle passing the heavy gates and her pretty voice greeting her dog. 'That's it, it's time' you thought to yourself as her footsteps got closer. You got up almost in front of the door doing your best to smile as it clicked and she stepped inside.

Oh she was hot. Jesus Christ.

She was wearing a pair of black joggers and a black jacket, he hair a bit messy because of the helmet and a silver chain with your name's initials on a small pendant. Her eyes lit up when she saw you there, her shoulders visibly relaxed as her smile grew wide enough to show her dimples.

"Welcome home!" You said, literally jumping on her arms. She held you with both hands under your ass and kissed you, sitting you both on the couch to hold you better.

"Did you miss me, baby?" She hugged your waist and you nodded as she kissed you again, feeling you on her hands. Suddenly bada stopped as she felt your skin under the robe. "oh, what's this?" She backed up, staring at you.

"A present?" You blushed, untying your robe and revealing the lacy lingerie, letting it fall back.

"Fuck" She kissed you again, ever so carefully. You stopped her, pushing her lightly by the shoulder. She frowned. "What? Are you not on the mood anymore? It's okay if you are not, baby" You shook your head.

"no that's not it..." You said, looking into her eyes. "I want you to promise me something" you caressed her cheek and she leaned on your touch.

"Anything, baby" She kissed your palm and you felt yourself melting on her lap. You got close to her body, your boobs touching her chest over the jacket.

"Promise me you won't hold back" You whispered on her ear, witnessing in first hand the hairs on her neck stand up.

"What?" Her voice sounded low and you reached for the box on the other side of the couching, handing it to her.

"I love being intimate with you Bada, I really do" You were saying as she opened the black box. "but I feel like you are holding back from what you really wanna do with me..." You did your best not to blush when she finally saw what you were up to.

The 8 inch dildo attached to a leather harness, two sets of white rope and lube. She looked petrified, thinking her next move. Your heart danced on your chest waiting for her to say anything. You couldn't hold your tongue anymore.

"I know I'm young and not as experienced as you but I really want you to feel as good as I feel" You kissed her cheek, your lips touching her skin a bit longer than a normal kiss would made her shiver, her addams apple moving so beautifully as she gulped, her hand gripping your waist and letting go as if her touch alone were enough to hurt you.

"I am scared I might hurt you" She chased your lips, whispering against them and nudging her nose against your cheek.

"I am not made of porcelain" You kissed her lips so lightly it was as if it never happened. "I know deep down you wanna teach me so many things" You felt her slender arm snaking around your waist to press you better against her body. "Do you want me to call you mommy?" She smiled against your lips, shaking her head. "Uhm... Daddy?"

You felt her eyes shift, going from playful to serious in half a second.

"oh, daddy it is" she kissed your lips so urgently you really got surprised. She stood up taking you as if your weight meant nothing to her, one arm around your waist and her other hand holding the box.

Rolling her tongue against yours you felt how she really was holding back before. This Bada was bold and way stronger that you thought she was, literally throwing you in bed with a yelp from you.

"Do you really want me to stop holding back?" She said, unzipping her jacket. You nodded, squeezing your thighs together as her dark eyes scanned you. "Use your words"

"Yes daddy please, don't hold back" you pleaded and she smiled, getting between your legs. Her naked slim body body felt heavy and bigger than the other times, taking your breath away when her skin touched yours.

"Good job" She praised, her big hand going to your neck to hold you in place as she kissed you, her other hand touching your nipple over the fabric of the lacy bra. You moaned against her lips when she pinched with a bit more force. Feeling bold you smiled.

"Is that all you got?" Well that was the wrong thing (or maybe the right one?) to say because next thing you felt was a sharp sting on your cheek. It wasn't a hard slap, but it definitely did the job on turning you on even more. You moaned, biting your lip.

"oh baby you like that?" She kissed your neck, pulling the straps of your bra to kiss your shoulder and then your chest.

"I do daddy, fuck" pulling your tits out she licked one, then the other, tugging on it with her teeth. "God, I'm going insane" You tried to hold back a moan and she bit even harder holding your hips to make you hump her thigh.

That was it, that was Bada. You knew she was fighting hard the urge to treat you gently and neglect herself once again and you were making sure to let her know you wanted her to let go on you. You pulled her hand from your hip to your mouth, kissing her fingers. She groaned when you pulled two of them into your mouth to suck, licking them.

"I'm gonna train your throat a little bit, princess" she sat on her heels, pushing them far back on your throat and making you gag. "That's it baby, good girl. Breathe though your nose" she commanded and you gagged again, each time that happened you felt your pussy clench harder and your eyes water.

She kept fucking your mouth as her other hand caressed your pussy over the lacy underwear. You closed your eyes, focusing on all the stimulation you were getting as your body started to shake. She pulled your panties to the side as she toyed with your clit, her eyes trained on your face when she entered your drenched slit with two of her fingers.

She pulled her fingers out of your mouth to kiss you as you gasped for air, crying as she pumped her fingers hard.

"Fuck I was going insane thinking of the day I could finally fuck you like a slut" She bit your lower lip, fucking you hard and fast, curling her fingers up on your gspot and thumbing your clit.

You moaned like a slut, finally also realizing how you were enjoying that rougher side of her, discovering with your girlfriend that you, in fact, liked it rough and not just her.

"Daddy" you cried out against her neck, hugging it. "oh god it feels so good, don't stop please please please" You said and Bada smiled, holding your neck with her left hand as her right one kept the rough pace.

"Oh yeah, does it feel good?" She choked you and as you rolled your eyes clenching for the sweet release she stopped, ripping your orgasm from you.

Your body violently shook, tears streamed down your cheeks as your body ached for her, for more. You were sure you passed out for at least ten seconds because next thing you knew she was pulling you by the shoulders to kneel on the floor.

"I said on your knees, pretty girl" She said, already wearing the strap. Her abs looked delicious with a bead of sweat going down and you clenched hard. "Open" she said, holding you by the chin and you did as she said.

She held it by the base and slowly entered your mouth, her sharp gaze burning your skin as you instinctively pulled her into you with both hands on her thighs. She smiled, petting your head.

"Fuck baby, someone is feeling greedy" You gagged, big teary eyes staring up at her and you felt her hips slightly falter.

She started slowly fucking you with the huge dildo, closing her eyes trying to hold herself together because of the stimulation on her clit.

"Your mouth feels so good" She fucked a bit harder, holding you by the held to use your mouth as a fuck hole. "your lips feel so fucking good" she rolled her eyes and when her stare went back to your face she smirked, taking the cock off. You coughed and she pulled you up to kiss you.

She touched your wet pussy again, this time smearing your wetness on it and gathering some on her fingers to spread on the fake cock. She turned you around to bend you over the bed, face on the sheets.

"So pretty..." She spread your ass cheeks to spit on your holes, watching you clench next. She positioned the cock on your entrance and pulled you by the hair, her other hand on your hip to steady you, her mouth glued to your ear. "Are you sure you want me to stop holding back?" She kissed your neck and your whole body shook.

"yes daddy, please" you didn't even had to think twice about the answer.

"alright then" She kissed again. "Tell me if anything hurts too much" She said and you understood that it was going to hurt, you just needed to enjoy while it wasn't too much for you.

In one go half of the thing disappeared into you and you absolutely mewled, tightly gripping the sheets and burying your face on it. She held your hips, slamming it inside of your tight pussy over and over again, knocking the wind out of you every time.

"Daddy, oh god" you cried out, trying to hold her hand for support but she had other plans, pulling both your arms behind your back as her hips kept fucking into yours.

You were going in and out of consciousness, moaning against the mattress without your arms to hold support your weight.

"This is your place, baby" She growled, fastening her hips. "Ass up for daddy, taking my cock like a good cock sleeve" She held your arms back with one hand and repeatedly slapped your ass cheeks with the other one, each strike making you cream even harder on the plastic cock.

She switched your position again, this time she had you on your back, your knees on your chest as she pounded into your pussy with abandon, spitting on your clit just to make even more of a mess, scratching the back of your thighs just to mark you up.

You could only moan, your voice hoarse and tired from all the throat action but you wanted her to keep going, almost reaching your breaking point.

"Daddy I'm gonna cum" You cried out, scratching her hard abs and she clenched, almost climaxing as well due to the end of the dildo rubbing back on her clit.

"Do it baby, cum for daddy" She moaned, feeling how it was getting harder to move her hips because of how hard you were clenching. Her hands found your neck again, not really choking but holding you in place. She fucked you with might, the hard skin slaps echoing around the room along with both of your moans.

You came so hard you felt your scalp tingling, gushing your creamy juices on her cock as she came as well, silently screaming against your lips as she did so. Her hands never left your neck as you kept kissing, sweaty and out of breath.You could barely open your eyes when she took it out of you, slipping off the wet harness.

she went down to clean you up,knowing very well you didn't like to be sticky for long. She fucked you so hard you could barely feel anything anymore, almost completely numb. She went back up to kiss your lips, spitting your juices back into them, licking your drool as it started to get too messy.

You fell asleep as she kissed yous body, praising you and telling you how well you took her, only hearing how she is going to tie you next time, her warm hands caressing your sweaty skin...

The other day you woke up to see her peacefully sleeping, her slender limbs all tangled in you. You felt sore but so happy that she finally stopped holding back, kissing her cheeks to wake her up.

"Hey pretty girl" She said, kissing your forehead. "How are you feeling?" She asked, her morning voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Sore" You shyly said. "How are you feeling?" You asked, trying to move but she kept holding you as if you were trying to escape.

"Very relaxed" She sounded way too cocky and you rolled your eyes.

"I am not trying to run away, you know" You looked at her arms and legs around your body. "After yesterday I am sure I got addicted to you" You blinked twice and her eyes darkened.

"Oh yeah baby?" You nodded. "Good to know..." She got on top of you, between your legs. "Let me see how addicted to me you are" She kissed your stomach and you whimpered.

Let's say that when you two finally got up after a few hours of hard fucking, you were definitely limping...

[kimchitsu17]

trust me | a.arlert

nsfw,mdni (just don't)

tags: wet dreaming,fingering (f.recieving),UNI AU!!,angsty confessions with fluff? eventual smut (idk how to do this 🤷🏽‍♀️)

word count : 2.3k

summary : your boyfriend's avoidance of sex forces you to take matters into your own hands.but what happens when he catches you in the act?

Your body turns into mush the deeper he thrusts into your sloppy cunt. Armin maintains a steady pace as he fucks up into you.he dotingly pecks all over your face and your heart keens over the endearment.his hands interlink with yours on either side of your head, towering over your body.baby blue eyes skim over your naked frame.he nuzzles your nose with his."you're so beautiful",he says.you can feel his love for you.can hear it in the breathy moans that traverse into your ear.his slick and your wetness make the most erotic sounds and you can feel your bundle of nerves about to snap,just a little more...

Then you wake up.drenched in sweat and hornier than you've ever been.its not the first time you've dreamt about him that way and probably wont be the last.you just wish you could do something about it.

Throughout the relationship ,its all been going according to your pace.First time holding hands,first hug,first kiss, its all been you initiating it.and you know its not him being nonchalant.he just wants to make sure he has your consent before he does it himself.

So imagine your surprise when he puts a pause on you when you let him know you want to jump his bones.most guys would have already jumped at the opportunity to get between your legs but then again,Armin isn't "most guys".H e told you he'd let you know when he's ready for that and like the good girlfriend you are,you respected his wishes.But this wish respecting has gone too long for your liking.You've been together for a little over a year now and yet nothing has happened.

You want to feel the intimacy of his skin against yours,to share the vulnerability that comeswith laying bare for the other to see every part of your being.Youre not blind to the heated gaze that travels up and down your body whenever you're in a particularly revealing outfit,or how his eyes dilate and his breathing goes heavier the longer you make out with him.he likes being affectionate with you so what's he waiting for?

You want to tell him you're tired of waiting but you dont want to come off as pressuring him.Plus if the roles were reversed you know for a fact he'd wait for you.You honestly respect his boundaries but its feeding into your own insecurities.Are you not pretty enough,is that it?

What's he so afraid of? Does he not trust you yet? Even after a year?

The furthest you've ever gone with him was this one movie night at your place.your mouths were pressed together in a searing kiss as you led him from the living room to your bedroom.one hand tugging at the back of his undercut and the other guiding his hand to your ass,trying to let him know its okay to let loose.You were so sure this was his way of letting you know he was ready since he's the one who kissed you first.But before it could escalate any further,he stops you in your tracks by your waist and separates his lips from yours.he lets out a few coughs and then you hear it ,"uhhh,we should probably go back to the movie,its about to end."not to mention he left early that night claiming to have forgotten about an assignment due tommorow.saying you were mortified that night would be an understatement.it also,in a way felt like a rejection.

Now here you are,groggily rising from your bed to the bathroom.you feel a little guilty for dreaming of him the way you did as you brush your teeth.hes just so sweet and considerate with you.you also feel a little guilty for what you're about to do but it cant be helped.

You cant stop rubbing your thighs together.the images from your dream are scorched in your mind.the burning sensation in your core is barely tolerable and you need some relief now.

The toothbrush long forgotten,you slip a hand into your sleep shorts.your slick has soaked through your petty excuse for underwear.the pads of your fingers flitter leisurely against your folds as you ease yourself into a fantasy,trying to imagine its Armin's hand stroking your nipple through your camisole.his fingers teasing you, hand stuffed in your underwear.gosh,his hands are so pretty you sigh at the thought.you feel your legs crumple to the floor.

You indulge in reminiscence of the time he fixed your kitchen table.the way his biceps flexed over the the wood as he dismantled the legs.he thin sheen of sweat that glazed over his muscles,over his face, the laboured breathes he let out caused by hours of focus.never had he looked so fuckable.how you wish he could dismantle you like he did to that table.His name leaves your lips with a whimper as your fingers sink into your cunt.

And thats when you hear it.The clutter of a soft drink can against he floor.Your eyes fly open to see none other than Armin standing in front of the bathroom door,lloking like a deer caught in headlights.His cheeks and ears are blotched crimson,mouth slightly agape.His wide eyes are glued to you from the hand stuffed in your shorts and trail up your scanty camisole to your face. your eyes stay glued to one another for what feels like an eternity.

you're the first to break the trance as you stand at full height and dash to shut the door in his face.what the heck is he doing here?! weren'tyou supposed to meet up on campus?but then again you haven't checked your phone for any notifications and he always texts before he comes in.you probably didn't hear it with how...occupied you were .

you do what you can to fix the state of undress you're in but its not helping much. can hear the thump of his head against the bathroom door as he lets out a breath.my gosh,this is so embarrasing.

"love?"

your thoughts cease.you feel the warmth in his voice.can also hear the unease.he wants to know if you're okay.gosh why is he still being so sweet after what he just saw.if it was any other guy they would've bolted out of your apartment by now.

he's now turning the doorknob,"love can i come in I-"

"No!"You clutch the door knob tighter.

What the fuck does he mean come in!?!? you're nowhere near ready to face him.

he keeps tugging at the doorknob and you equally wrench it back closed.

"Armin,I'm fine.an we just meet up after class?

"no we cant,not after what i just saw,now open up"

"he's not asking anymore,he's gonna open that door whether you like it or not.you try your best to overpower him but you're no match for his well-built physique.

he wrenches the door open to find you looking vacantly at him.he looks so perplexed, eyebrows slightly furrowed and slightly out of breath.he must be so disgusted by you.getting off on fantasies of him.you can't bear to face him.how could you ever explain yourself.tears threaten to spill at your lash line and you sag to the floor as you cover your face with your hands.out of shame?out of fear? you don't know.you just want the earth to swallow you whole right here and now.

Armin lets out a dejected sigh and his shoulders slump.its not out of disappointment or disgust like you think.more out of hurt.it hurts him to see you cry. Especially knowing he's the one who made you cry. He should have talked to you sooner it seems,but he decides now is better than never.

he takes up the same position as you on the floor in front of you and tries to pry your hands away from your face but you don't let him.

"Go away Armin", you sob with a hitch.The rejection stings a little but he doesn't let up.

"Hey, it's oka-"

"No it's not okay,it's embarrassing".

Armin let's out a sigh, trying to figure out how to calm you down.Honesty always works right?

"I don't think my girlfriend being half naked on the bathroom floor trying to get herself off is the most normal of things to see first thing in the morning" he lightly tugs at your wrists.seeing that youre not letting up,he decides to just hold them as he strokes at your pulse."but I also don't think it's anything to be embarrassed about either." The words float around you both.puzzling ,shocking.

your cry has now diminished to light sniffles.

does he really mean that? if so why has he never brought up sex in your conversations. you've been going out for over a year for fucks sake,how chaste can this boy be. before you can retort back,you feel him press his lips to the back of your hands.just like in your dream.once.twice.all over them, the exposed part of your forehead,your hair, anywhere he can kiss.

he stays at the shell of your ear,kissing, whispering,”honey please don't shut me out, it's just me."

you can feel your heart melt at his actions.why does he always know exactly what to do to make you cave.

you slowly move your hands away from your face to find light blue eyes studying you,all his focus is on you.he's so close your noses are almost touching.

"hi love"

"I'm sorry",you blurt the words out before you can think.

The air around you remains stagnant,along with Armin ,expressionless and unmoving,as if you never even said anything.Is he mad? disappointed?you have no idea.

You don't get the chance to find out before he swoops you up from the ground.one hand on your side,the other at the back of your knees.You let out a squeal and cling to his neck at the sudden elevation.

he moves in silence to the bedroom,

kicking the soft drink can on his way. Armin never gets like this.its scary.that you've been together for this long and yet have never seen this side of him.it makes you wonder what else don't you know about him.

he settles at the edge of the bed right in the middle and seats you on his lap, guiding your legs on either side of his waist.

his eyes never leave yours as he entwines his fingers in yours.

"since when?"

"what"

"when did you start getting off to me?"

you avert your gaze from his.

"since Connie's welcome back party"

you turn back when you feel him bury his head into your chest.he lets out a groan."that was months ago".

you let him gather his thoughts.his breath fanning over your breasts making your nipples pebble,his eyelashes brushing to and fro against your supple skin.its turning you on,but you force yourself to focus on the issue at hand.

"I didn't mean to do it,im sorr-"

"stop apologising,it's making me feel even more bad"

A beat passes between the two of you.the silence doesn't offer any comfort for your busy brain.hes sorry?

he finally lifts his head from your chest to look directly at you.

"First of all,I need you to know that you can come to me,for absolutely anything.Whether you're horny or depressed or just want to talk im here for you." he looks deep into your eyes,pleading. "you jerking off doesn't disgust me,so dont hide from me again.please."

You understand what he saying but you can't help but feel his hypocrisy.Hes the reason why you hid it from him in the first place.How can he expect you to be open with him when he hasn't been open with you for months.

And it's as if he can read your thoughts.Its his turn to look away from you.eyes cast down,voice gloomy.

"And I'm sorry you felt the need to hide it.Its just," he lets out a breath, "I-"

You untangle your hands from his to reach out for his face.your palms cradle his cheeks as you guide him to look at you.

"why don't you want to have sex with me Armin? Do you not want me?”

“I do!”He says it with more force than is required.How could you, for even a second, think he doesn’t want you.If only you knew how much he’s jerked off to the pictures of you on his phone.

he doesn't know how he's lived normally all these years without you.how he's gone through life without having your warm body tangled in his when you sleepover, without your mindless conversations that never add up to anything, without your smiles.your kisses.he can't fathom a life where you're not there.if you guys haven't slept together and it doesn't work out,he can still fight for a friendship at least.after sex, there's no going back.he knows you'd never be friends with someone you've slept with and hes just too afraid he'll loose you.he wouldn't survive it.he'd rather suppress his own desires and torture himself.he just didn't realise he was torturing you too.

he wants that intimacy between you just as much as you do.hes just so scared of what might happen after.after he's laid his soul bare for you to see.after he's given you every morsel of his being.you haven't given him any reason to doubt your loyalty but what if you decide you could do better than him? God,you could do so much better than him.what if you leave?

he doesn't realise he's said the last part out loud.you jerk his face up even higher.his statement troubles you."Why would I ever leave?" he tries to avert his gaze from your concern once more and this time,you force him to look at you.you feel the melancholy take over his body,he grips you tighter to him by your waist, bodies now flush together.the calm blue of his eyes turns into a kaleidoscope of sapphire,glassy and miserable in their beauty.and then he whispers the fear he's had since the start of your relationship,"because you're too good for me"

the words break your heart.how can such a sweet boy think so poorly of himself.he does so much for you and he doesn't even realise it.with a breath you fix your forehead to his.you both close your eyes at your proximity.

"Armin, this won't work unless you trust me."

"I trust you with my heart",he confesses,nuzzling further against you.

"Then give in to it.Give in to us"

your hands shift to stroke at the apple  of his cheek.the other guiding his hand to your chest.right where your heart is.your next words brush upon his lips in a burning whisper.youre demanding, pleading. begging.

"Give in to me"

a/n: thanks to anyone who made it this far.i plan on making a part two depending on if i can find inspo for it. constructive criticism is appreciated. 👍🏾

borders by @cafekitsune

[beomiracles]

heyy, can u do a med student reader x idol txt pair becuz i need to feed my delusions lol, also i love ur work sm :)

「 C'MON NURSE 」

DREAM RECALL “I…I don’t know if…if it’s something I should..” — “oh come one”, he leans forward as the smirk on his lips only grows, “don’t tell me you can’t have a little fun, nurse?” 

wc -> 1.6k

pairings idol!yeonjun x medstudent!gn!reader warnings none !

#serene adds ✎... ah this has taken me forever to get around to and I sincerely apologise >.< I had to research a bit for this one, so if I've gotten any facts wrong feel free to point them out ! part 2 with smut when? ahah joking (probably)

Wiping your sweaty palms on your white robe, you try your best to steady your breathing. The hospital was bustling with life, patients crowding the hallways and the phones at the front desks chimed nonstop. In other words it was a busy day, an extremely busy one — much so that you had received a most unique task. 

Five weeks into your internship at the hospital you had been assigned your first patient. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement. Still, you knew that this was how your work days were going to look like, once you finished med school. And while nervosity built in your stomach with each step, you also felt giddy with excitement. 

The contrasting feelings combined made for an almost electrifying buzz to course through your body. Once you reach the small room you had been assigned, realization sets in and you have to swallow a small gulp. With a trembling hand on the door, you take one final deep breath before swinging it open. 

Upon stepping inside you’re met with a young man, possibly in his mid twenties, sitting on the stretcher as his legs sway mindlessly in front of him. His head snaps in your direction and as your gaze meets his you’re taken aback by how handsome he was. Were all your future patients going to be this good looking? 

A small awkward smile presents itself on your lips and you give a rather stale introduction. The man grins as he stretches his hand out, “Choi Yeonjun”, he says as you take his hand. His grip was firm and you almost lost track of yourself as you allowed your eyes to linger on his own. 

“Didn’t know they had nurses this young”, he comments as he eyes you with a mischievous glint. Your face suddenly flushes with color and you awkwardly clear your throat, desperately hoping he couldn’t tell. “I’m a med student, I just happen to be doing my internship here..” you explain as you flatten out your white robe nervously. “Though I am working to become a fully trained nurse and.. and I do have the necessary skills to help you today”, you quickly add, cursing yourself for stammering. 

Yeonjun smirks, “I don’t doubt it, nurse.” Perhaps it was your nerves speaking, or the fact that the man before you was undoubtedly attractive — but you could have sworn that his voice held an almost flirtatious tone. Shaking your head slightly, you will such thoughts away as you turn your attention to your work. 

“May I ask what brought you here today?” Bringing out a small moveable table of utensils to busy yourself as Yeonjun begins explaining. “Well my left shoulder has been hurting immensely recently, I think I might’ve accidentally tore it on stage and–” 

“On stage?” 

The questions slips from your lips and you almost slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from interfering further. Yeonjun doesn’t seem to mind as he smirks, “I’m a dancer”, he says as he watches your expression morph from surprise to something more of an embarrassed one. A dancer? Your mind immediately began racing with thoughts that probably weren’t appropriate in your current situation. 

Upon noting your flustered expression Yeonjun chuckles, “not that kind of dancer I assure you.” Nodding gingerly you mumble out a quiet “no of course not..” How silly of you to jump to such conclusions; and about a patient no less. You could only hope that he didn’t make a complaint to your boss. 

“I’m a singer too”, he then adds in a seemingly unbothered voice and your eyes snap back to him in evident curiosity. He frowns, “have you not heard of our group?” he asks to which you shake your head, surely you would remember such a handsome man. Yeonjun purses his lips as he gives a small shrug, “tomorrow by together, sound familiar?” 

Once again you shake your head, rather embarrassed over your lack of general knowledge. Your patient doesn’t sound offended, “what a shame, nurse”, he grins. You thought he had a nice voice, so it would make sense for him to be a singer. But a singer and a dancer? Well that was impressive. 

“Do you mind telling me for how long and during which occasions you have been experiencing these pains?” you ask as you sanitize your hands once more. “Eh, about a week, maybe a little more”, Yeonjun ponders, “it hurts almost whenever I use my left arm, quite a bitch to train with.” 

Nodding along with his words your mind rummages through possible solutions. “I’ll need to examine both your shoulder and the mobility of your arm in order to determine how severe your tear is”, you explain and Yeonjun nods. “Would you need me to take off my shirt, nurse?” he asks as a smirk tugs at his lips. 

“Ah, that won’t be necessary”, you assure him as you feel your cheeks heat up. “I’ll only need your left arm to be free.” — “Alright” he shrugs as he wriggles his left arm free from his shirt, which inevitably rides up his stomach, exposing his perfectly toned torso. You have to pry your eyes from wandering and instead focus on his injured shoulder. 

“Do you mind me touching you?” Despite only executing your work, you thought consent played an important part in getting treatment. “Please do”, Yeonjun smirks and from the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you saw him throw you a small wink. Gulping, you give yourself three mental slaps — it was just work. If you couldn’t stay professional when a slightly attractive patient entered the room then how were you to do this for a living. 

Get it together, a small voice in your head hisses and you couldn’t agree with it more. You try your best to focus on his shoulder, fingers moving across his soft skin to prod and squeeze at the flesh. Upon pushing against a particular spot, Yeonjun flinches away from your touch and you give him a knowing glance, “here?”, he nods. 

“You’ve most likely tore a tendon”, you state as your fingers continue to prod around the area. Yeonjun frowns, “a what?” You give him a dismissal wave of your hand as you motion for him to lift his arm, earning a painful grimace from him. “If you’re lucky it’s only partially torn, meaning it has yet to detach from your bone.” Yeonjun’s lips part in surprise, “that can happen?” You give him a small nod, “indeed it can.” 

You continue to move his arm in several directions, all leading to groans of pain from your patient. “But judging from the way you can move it, I’d say you’re quite lucky.” Yeonjun gives you a look of disbelief and you have to resist the urge to giggle. “How’s your strength? Can you lift things as normal, disregarding the pain of course?” He looks thoughtful for a moment before nodding, “yeah I can do everythin’, just hurts like a motherfucker”, he grimaces. 

“Well it’s a good thing you came in as early as you did”, you say as you let go of his shoulder and motion for him to pull his shirt back on. “If you had continued to put pressure on your torn tendon it might’ve just ripped entirely.” Yeonjun sighs as he gives his shirt a final tug , “so what’s your prognosis, nurse?” 

“Well, firstly you’ll need to rest”, you note as you get up to open one of the cabinets, rummaging through the variety of medications, “and if you desire to keep training then all activities regarding any use of your shoulder must be excluded.” Upon returning with a small package Yeonjun lets out a huff, “then how do I dance?” he questions to which you shake your head, “you don’t.” 

“You sure there’s no way around this, nurse?” he pouts and you shake your head once more. Running his good hand through his dark hair, Yeonjun looks at you, “that’s a shame, I was hopin’ to ask you to attend our concert next week”, he admits and you blink in surprise. He was going to ask you what? 

“I, I uhm, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities once you’re recovered..” your brain is foggy as you scramble for words to form at least one coherent sentence. Yeonjun’s lips curl into a smirk as he eyes your flushed expression, “then, can I convince you to see me for coffee instead?” 

His bold questions keep catching you off guard and you fiddle with the medication in your hands. “I…I don’t know if…if it’s something I should..” — “oh come one”, he leans forward as the smirk on his lips only grows, “don’t tell me you can’t have a little fun, nurse?” 

Suddenly you begin to feel as if the room might’ve emptied its supply of air; your face growing increasingly hot by the second as you avoid his lustful gaze. “I uh…I’ll prescribe you some ibuprofen”, you quickly turn to the small desk in an attempt to shield your very telling face, “it helps with inflammation, take them together with your meals for the next three weeks, it’ll reduce any swelling as well as pain”, you ramble as your trembling fingers sign the necessary papers. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn back to Yeonjun who was watching you with an amused expression. You hand him the small package and watch his smirk double in size as his eyes scan the small paper. “You got it, nurse.” 

It isn’t until the doors to your small room closes behind him that you breathe out the sigh you had been holding in for the past thirty minutes. But as your breathing steadies, your heart continues to race. Was it such a good idea to have written your phone number on the prescription paper? 

As your phone buzzes in your back pocket you realize that it most definitely was.

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[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING LECHEROUS !!! GEORGE R. X FEM!READER X TOTO W.

summary: this was the only time when someone lucked out with toto's wife. after the austrian grand prix, maybe george should consider winning more.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), dubcon, pwp, no beta reading, austrian gp 2024 spoilers (ish), threesome (mfm), m!masturbation, cuckolding(ish), oral sex (f receiving), sub!needy!nameless wife (only referred to as 'mrs. wolff), voyeurism, praise kink

note: i have a little hangover but man did that race eat, i just had to write on it. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

mrs. wolff was the most sought-after woman in the paddock despite the ‘wolff’ name being attached to her soul and public image.

everyone knew who she was, having been the mercedes boss’ wife, but it didn’t deter them from ogling whenever she passed by with grace and entrancing presence. 

toto knew that. he knew all too well about the ogling, the staring, the subtle glances. and because of that, he would often shadow his wife whenever she came by.

there was an unspoken rule applied by toto: don’t talk to mrs. wolff unless you’re standing feet away from her, don’t ever touch her, don’t ever dream of being with her.

it wasn’t even that he didn’t trust his wife around other people, no. instead, he didn’t trust other people around his wife. 

george russell was one of those people. as bad as it sounded, george always found himself unintentionally ogling and staring at mrs. wolff whenever she came by in the brackley factory or in the race tracks. who wouldn’t find her beautiful? she had poise and charm that george couldn’t explain. 

hell, george couldn’t blame toto for falling for her grace. or rather, he couldn’t blame his team principal for falling for whatever the fuck she had on. 

but there was something about the austrian air that night that led george to saunter towards the woman. was it his victorious ending at the race? george wasn’t certain. 

but this was a rare occasion; mrs. wolff never joined the celebratory occasions before, and seeing her here with a nice slit dress and ever ravishing smile drove everyone insane. seeing her here while toto was on the other side of the bar, though…

george could get fired for even trying anything with her, he could admit, but ego was something that every f1 driver had and right now the briton couldn’t refuse the inflation of his. he had to try, especially when she was dressed like she wanted to get it off already.

so that’s what george did: chatted with her and talked with alcohol in their hands. there were a lot of things that george learned to say and not say. 

mrs. wolff had the nicest laugh, george could admit, but her lips looking so kissable was just another can of worms that he couldn’t open. especially when toto was somewhere to take the bait and potentially lead his wife to saunter away from the race winner. 

george couldn’t lose her now, so he opted to chat with her instead. behind his blue eyes was something forbidden. lust.

he could understand why people ogled mrs. wolff now — she was a walking aphrodisiac, like her pheromones were through the roof and george could sense all of it. they were enough for his trousers to tighten a little.

fuck, he couldn’t have that now. not when…

not when toto’s hand snaked around his wife’s waist and squeezed her hip. not when the atmosphere inside the bar turned hotter when toto came by. not when toto’s head dipped down to feed onto his and her desire and show everyone whose wife mrs. wolff was. 

george shifted in his seat, not even looking away from toto’s surprising public display of affection. toto was always professional, but then again he was off-track. 

george did the one thing that people rarely got to do: watch toto’s younger wife become needy for the team principal. it was… hot. fuck it really was hot. but he needed more.

and it seemed like toto sensed it too, his hand running through his wife’s hair before grabbing a handful to tilt her head towards george’s direction. 

george could tell she was a putty in toto’s hands, her eyes glazed in neediness and desire. toto smirked at the tension that he felt amongst the three of them, nipping on her earlobe as he asked her, “do you think you can do it, mein liebe?”

“yes,” she bit her lip, her hooded eyes trailing at george. the brit could see a lot of lust in her eyes, as if she wasn’t just laughing at some shitty joke he made five minutes ago. 

she was an entirely different person, and toto turned her on with a snap of his fingers. seeing her so aroused because of toto made george want her more and the team principal could see it.

toto chuckled softly, nipping her craned neck before telling george, “we’re heading up.”

george could only nod, frozen in his position. what did that even mean?

it seemed as though george’s confusion was all over his face because toto seemed to answer his unspoken question with, “do you want to come along? i know you want to fuck my wife like most people.” 

what?

toto smirked, “c’mon, george. lewis would’ve jumped at the chance if he could.”

george wasn’t any better either. this was something that most people wouldn’t ever expect from toto wolff. the man was possessive and wouldn’t let anyone touch his wife. 

god must have been playing favourites. but george couldn’t care less. he had the austrian grand prix win and now he got the win that most people would’ve wanted: a night spent with her. 

so that was how george found himself stomach flat against the mattress, the woman’s legs spread out while the brit’s tongue lapped at her drenched pussy. her knicker was pulled aside, reverberations in her cunt making her body squirm and her mouth water. 

she sought for her husband’s cock, but toto was busy watching them from the armchair he set by the bed. each time she pleaded for toto, all toto said were ‘patience’ or ‘behave yourself.’ 

george’s being left to pleasure her on his own while toto watched was something that made the brit’s cock twitch in his trousers. 

“god, you taste so fucking good,” george murmured between his tongue lapping. she uttered out a moan, making george grind his hips against the mattress for friction. 

“toto, please,” she mewled quietly, looking at her sitting husband while toto stroked his thick cock. “lemme taste-“

“i want to hear you whine and moan, schatzi,” toto crooned, pressing a kiss on her forehead, “i want george to hear you moan for him.” 

“mmfh-“ she whimpered, her mouth eager to taste her husband. but she couldn’t say much when she felt herself nearing the edge with george’s mouth and fingers. “fuck- george. you- oh fuck george- fuck!” 

“yeah, cum on my fingers, darling,” george tutted softly, lapping on her and sucking on her clit while his fingers curled up against her sensitive spot. “give it to me-“

“fuck- yes! oh, fuck,” her body arched and her hips grinned against george’s face, and the british man could’ve cum right there. 

george’s cock was agonizingly straining inside his trousers, precum leaking when his lips and chin glistened while she rode out her orgasm and coated his mouth and fingers. 

“oh, you sweet little thing,” george cooed at her as he moved up to capture her lips with his. his fingers never left her, only sliding out of her cunt when he unzipped his trousers. 

“taste so good, doesn’t she?” toto smirked and chuckled darkly, his eyes darkening at the sight of his wife being ravished by his driver. 

“abso-fucking-lutely,” george laughed too, finally taking off his trousers and taking the foil packet that toto tossed his way.

“she loves that,” toto hummed, his eyes never leaving his lust-ridden wife as he licked his lips. but he didn’t dare touch her, enjoying the sight of her. “my wife- ever the sweetest thing who loves getting off with my mouth and my fingers… how about you let her cum in your cock this time, hm?” 

“on all fours, doll,” george murmured, helping her into the position as he moved behind. “facing your husband, sweets.” 

she was gone. she was certainly gone when she looked at her husband, watching toto stroke the one thing that she wanted in her mouth. heat was rising in her cheeks, her body warming up to 40 degrees as george hooked her arms behind her and slid his cock in slowly. 

both her and george let out guttural moans, george’s face turning red in enjoyment as his pace turned moderate. 

she looked at toto with half-lidded eyes, biting her lip at the sight of him stroking his cock. it was all too damn good. 

“you look so fucked out, liebling,” toto said lowly. she seemed out of it, only nodding to his words. “you’re so gone, aren’t you? so fucked out?”

“yeah… yes,” she stammered hazily, “so good, toto.”

“yeah?” 

“yes,” she cried out when george angled to hit her spot repeatedly. “fuck- toto, he’s so good-“

“good girl,” george crooned from behind her, “good fucking girl with a tight cunt- god, you’re so fucking good.” 

“fuck her, george,” toto instructed with a smirk, prompting george to smirk too and follow as he was told. “look at that face of hers- she could cum right now and she could cum again and again.”

“oh fuck- yes,” she whined softly, her face scrunching in pleasure as her mouth gaped open. she was overwhelmed with pleasure, unable to keep track of who was talking. “you’re- oh god, george!” 

“you’re gonna be the death of me, schatzi,” toto commented, his stroking hand matching george’s thrusting pace. toto groaned out, “fuck her hard. she loves that, george.”

george wasn’t able to contest toto’s command, not when he was there only once. this was a rare occasion, and if it meant that he had to follow her husband’s words then fuck it. 

george might as well do the things that people were unable to do with mrs. wolff. if people only knew— he was a lucky bastard to even be able to see her like this while she lusted over toto and him. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne @marknolee @xylinasdiary @anotherblackreader

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

[bornagainmurdock]

my controversial matt murdock headcannons pt2

contents: sfw, very all over the place, but i'm sure you expected that

word count: .5k

has a playlist he listens to when he's getting ready to go on patrol that's full of 90s pop classics, including vogue by madonna and just a girl by no doubt

thinks about officially learning how to ballroom dance but is too scared to trip and fall in front of everyone, so he just practices in his apartment by himself

every song foggy has ever played for him is in a playlist called 'fog's favorites'

spotify user but doesn't pay for it, gets really frustrated when ads play but refuses to pay bc "It's the prinicpal of it all, you see they take music, a human thing and make you pay for it. that's unethical"

still owns a jump rope from when he was a kid but refuses to use it because he doesn't want to break it

has a large candle and mug collection bc he once said he likes coffee and when things smell good and now everyone gets him mugs and candles as gifts even though he refuses to have fire in the apartment

scared of fire in a way that is so visceral and upsetting

but loves a fireplace and listening to music and drinking a hot drink out of one of his hundreds of mugs in the winter

thinks a lot about taking classes at NYU in the history and psych dept to expand his knowledge

likes feeling the warmth of the sun in the morning and placed his bed perfectly in the room in order to be woken up that way every morning

his closet is organized in a way that is so orderly and simultaneously a nightmare to navigate bc matt uses his touch to find clothes so as long as he can feel it, it's fine where its at

has dropped and broken his phone hundreds of times and only knows its broken when he picks it up and he can feel the screen protector shattered

would call his partner 'counsellor' as a bit and then cannot stop doing it

hates going to stores where there's too much scent happening like bath and body works or lush

always dreamed of having an old man recliner in his future apartment, it's a financial priority and he would hold off retiring just to get his nice soft cozy chair

has timers set for specific times in the day because otherwise he will absolutely lose track of time and be unable to stay on schedule

has broken his red glasses often bc he puts them in his back pocket and sits, listening to them crunch under him

likes spin-y bar stools and will spin all night long at the bar

anime fan, like adventure anime where the protagonist and his friends have to go save the world or something

specifically loves hunter x hunter

enjoys doing lego sets but they never turn out quite right

has a lego collesium display in the office that foggy helped him finish and then glue together

hates sour candy

hates crocs, would rather lick a NYC sidewalk

has never been in a toys'r'us, but has nostaligia for the store

will feed the pigeons even though he understands the consequences

terrfied of geese

[p0mipaws]

Labru's wedding:

Marcille plans everything! (Yaad helps her with budgeting and making list of ppl to invite, tho)

When Laios and Kabru tells her about their secret engagement (everyone know after day 1), Marcille burst with excitement and start rambling about all the decorations and the cake for the wedding.

Kabru and Laios arent the type of person that have ✨️dream wedding✨️. Laios probably will choose to elope if its an option. Kabru loves social gathering, but isnt really big fan if its focused on him. He will still plan a wedding for political reason, but its probably will be no different from regular ball. Thats why Marcille is a blessing for them.

Marcille let Laios choose three (3) monster cuisines to serve at the wedding (with strict specifications). Senshi gladly help them gather the ingredients and prepare it (this is also Senshi's wedding gift for the couple).

I think Laios will choose cuisines from giant monsters so they can feed many ppl with just few a monsters so they dont distrub the ecosystem too much.

Its takes sometime, but they manage to track the merchant that took Laios in when he was teenager and invite him and his family. Kabru does NOT like him.

This is the first time Laios sees Falin crying with joy (Marcille is crying too but its more bc she is glad everything went smoothly).

Laios relucantly invite his parents after Falin pressures him. He just give his father a firm handshake and head nod during the reception. He doesnt even introduce Kabru to them.

Not only Flertom and Puckpatti failed to land a rich husband, they also need to drag Chilchuck and Meijack out of the party bc they get too drunk.

Marcille needs to put all the gifts from elven nations into isolated room to check if there any eavesdroppers on them, especially the one from Queen of the Elves (Not her first time).

Kabru and Laios are too exhausted after the party to consumated their marriage so they spend their first night sleeping until noon.

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 2 ◇ Part 3 ◇ Part 4

Warnings: none, osamu feeling inferior to tsumu :(

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt/comfort

A/n: Osamu's POV! I swear i'm gonna continue the story-line in the next chap.!

All of his childhood, Osamu felt like he was divided in half because of his brother: half food, half clothes, and half affection from their parents. It was almost like people didn’t see him as his own person. To the world, they were “The Twins”, never just “Osamu” and just “Atsumu”.

Time changed, things changed, they each started to become their own person, dreaming of different futures and places to go to.

Osamu always felt like he was the shadow to the light named Miya Atsumu, but he loved him dearly, so much that even today he half-expects to find Atsumu tangled up beneath the sheets of their childhood bunker bed, only to be greeted by the disappointing sight of his mirror, where his reflection gets blurred with the lines of his twin brother.

Osamu loved Atsumu but he didn’t want to hurt people like Atsumu often did; he told his brother that he was never going to become like him, so he became a little less selfish, less stubborn and less greedy.

With you, though, he is greedy. And he wants all of you.

He wants to hold you while you two watch some stupid anime called Haikyuu that you’re obsessed with, he wants to listen to you rambling about your day and your disdain for Alice, the insufferable colleague of yours; he wants to cook for you and feed you with his own hands and he wants to wait for you in your shared bed.

Osamu didn’t want a lot of things in his life, except his restaurant and his family, but since the day he saw you walk in with wet hair and drenched clothes, he started to want a lot more than he could afford, from the most mundane acts of waking up together to the intimacy of making love to you.

He is patient though, he lets your relationship grow steadily.

He thought that he would be happy with the leftover crumbles of affection that you gave him, but when you stopped coming to his shop, Osamu lost it completely. 

He was waiting for you around 7 PM like every Friday, he was feeling confident that day and wanted to suggest a casual outing to the neighbouring town's food fair.

(Nothing like a date, just a friendly hang out, he told himself).

His resolve wavered when you didn’t show up, not for one, not for two, but for three weeks in a row. He thought of all the possibilities as to why you didn’t come for so long, and he tried his best not to imagine the worst-case scenario. That can’t be. Nope.

On the third Friday of your absence, Osamu was crumbling. He closed the shop earlier than usual and went straight into the supermarket to get his guilty pleasure: the Butter Cookies.

His grandma always used to get them for him and unlike many other children, he never found sewing tools or anything of the sort in the box; his grandma knew that that kind of disappointment would be far too great for a six-year-old, food-enthusiast ‘Samu.

Well, grandma, that kind of disappointment is too great for a twenty-six-year-old ‘Samu too, because the guy was nearly panicking when he couldn’t find the boxes of Butter Cookies at their usual place. 

He was positive, though, because even after searching everywhere and not finding them, he didn’t lose hope. They will be available in another grocery store for sure. He got his priority straight and redirected his steps to another store across the town.

Luckily for him, the store was still open for another hour and it didn’t take him long to finally see his comfort food, in all its glory, staring at him from the shelf in the second aisle.

He was just about to go and pay for his box when he caught a glimpse of your silhouette, halting him in his tracks and confirming that it was, in fact, you.

Concern etches across his features as he looks at your tired and empty eyes, wondering if you have been taking care of yourself. Did you eat enough? Sleep enough?

The desire to call out to you is strong, leaving him no time to think before he is already approaching you, “That one will go bad in like 2 days.”

You look like a deer caught in headlights, doe eyes staring at him in what he wants to believe is awe.  You smile timidly before saying: “Hi Osamu, long time no see.” 

Yeah, long time no see, indeed. Osamu wants to be mad at you for making him so worried, for not coming to his shop, for not letting him know if you were doing okay, but he is just the owner of a restaurant and you’re just a regular client.

At least, you used to be a regular client. He can’t force you to like his company or his shop, no matter how much he wishes it.

Despite this, he can’t stop the bitter remark that slips past his lips,“Yeah, because someone hasn’t been coming to my restaurant lately.” you visibly wince, though he can’t seem to care enough.

You stutter some poor excuse as he inspects the other vegetables in the aisle, handing you one with a clean surface that will last at least five days, per Osamu’s calculations.

His hands touch yours and it makes him blush like a middle schooler.

You both talk about nothing and everything and in between the mundane banter and playful jabs, Osamu finds himself agreeing to a cooking lesson at your apartment.

And he couldn’t be happier.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @writingsofanomnivore @pressuredtreasure @k4sumis0u

[callsign-rogueone]

you called - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader You're captured by gryphon fliers while out alone on patrol, but Brennan comes to your rescue. [request] words: 1.7k 🏷: no book spoilers, as this occurs years before Fourth Wing, soon after Bren graduated from Basgiath. gender neutral reader in an established romantic relationship with Brennan. brief / vague descriptions of interrogation, torture, and inhumane treatment of reader by fliers, but Bren mends you and takes care of you (lots of cuddles). your dragon is mated to Marbh. her name is Fuir, a shortened form of the word for "alive" since Marbh means "dead". you sleep in Bren's shirt but there's no description of how it fits on you. wrote this in an hour and didn't edit so be nice pls

It’s easy enough to find the cell block. You’re the only prisoner there, with just one guard posted outside that Brennan makes quick work of, taking the keys from his belt to unlock the door.

He kneels down by your side, comforted by the rise and fall of your chest -- he’d known that you were still alive, because he is, as are Fuir and Marbh, but the visual confirmation is soothing.

He wraps a hand around your wrist to block the pain, using the other to start mending your wounds. Whoever had been interrogating you must have had a very short temper; your temples are bloodied, a few of your ribs bruised or broken, several small cuts dotting the exposed skin of your arms -- they’d taken your flight jacket, as a trophy.

He burns with anger, but forces himself to focus on the good, the fact that you’re still alive in front of him, that he’d found you before it was too late.

You finally open those pretty eyes, struggling to focus your gaze on him, but you put it together quickly enough. “Bren,” you murmur, delirious, “you came.”

“You called,” he answers simply, still working on mending your wounds.

It takes you a moment to work through the thick fog of what is definitely a concussion, but you realize he must have heard your desperate cries for help down the bond and came to find you; your plan worked.

You’d wanted to give up hope after the first day, but accepting your death meant accepting Brennan’s as well, and you couldn’t let him die like that, so you persevered. You’d forced yourself to eat what meager portions of food they’d given you, to drink the foul-tasting water and sleep as much as you could, to keep yourself alive.

Whenever they left you alone, you’d tried to reach for Fuir, for Brennan and Marbh, for your magic, getting no responses. After two days, you realized that they must have put a power-dampener in that water, like the one the professors had dosed you with before RSC to disconnect you from your dragons. So you’d stopped drinking it, pouring it out instead to make it look like you had -- and that night, you’d finally felt that little red string connecting you to Fuir, and the shimmering orange one that leads you to Brennan and Marbh. 

You’d cried in relief, trying to reach out to them, but your words had quickly turned to screams of pain as the officer returned to try to get information out of you again. They must have figured out your scheme, because the beating was the worst that day -- they’d hardly ever left you alone, giving you less than an hour between rounds of questioning.

You close your eyes again, realizing that this is probably a dream, a hallucination brought on by days of isolation in this dark room with only enough food and water to keep you alive. You aren’t really aware of how long it’s been. There’s no sunlight down here, and they haven’t been feeding you on a regular schedule, so you couldn’t keep track by counting the meals, either.

“I thought Navarre didn’t bother with extractions,” you mumble. 

“They don’t. So I might be court-martialed when we get back, but I don’t care. I couldn’t leave you here.”

“M’sorry,” you murmur. “Shouldn’t have gone off on my own. Thank you for finding me.”

“Don’t apologize, love. And I’ll always find you,” he promises, stroking your hair. “We’re tied together, aren’t we?”

You manage a soft laugh that quickly turns into a cough, your throat dry and raw from the screaming and from days without much water.

He decides he’s mended you enough for now -- you should be able to move now without injuring yourself further, and you really need to get out of here. “Up you get,” he coaxes, hooking an arm around your waist and helping you up from the floor.

Someone is waiting for you in the hallway -- someone dressed in black. A rider.  “Nao?” you ask, blinking at him. You really must be hallucinating.

The older rider smiles at you. “Hi, kid. Good to see you in one piece.” He turns to Brennan. “There’s two guards at each exit. We can take them, but they’ll probably sound an alarm.”

The two men continue to strategize, and you try to follow along, but most of the words go in one ear and out the other. You settle for leaning against Brennan and trying to stay awake.

“Hello, sweet one,” Fuir says gently, and you nearly cry at the familiar voice back in your head after days of isolation.

“Hi,” you respond in a whisper.

Brennan and Naolin have agreed on a plan, and you follow them closely, staying by Brennan’s side as they lead you out of the compound. Naolin makes quick work of both of the guards, knocking them out easily, and you slip past the treeline into the forest.

It’s freezing outside, literally -- your boots make tracks through the half-inch of snow on the ground that continues to fall gently, tiny flakes drifting through the air and coating everything in a thin layer of white.

You rub your hands over your arms, trying to keep warm. Brennan drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and you burrow into it, happy to be wrapped in the warmth and softness of the fur-collared fabric and the comforting smell of your partner. 

You finally spot Fuir -- she looks a little worse for wear, too, cuddled up with Marbh, who is licking her wounds like an oversized cat. Cute.

“Can you still make it home?” you ask, concerned.

She sounds slightly offended. “Of course I can. It’s you I’m worried about.”

She lays down, making it easier for you to climb up her leg. As you settle into your seat, you can feel invisible bands of magic keeping you in place -- you breathe a sigh of relief that you won’t have to worry about keeping your seat as you pass over the mountain range. You have no idea how long of a flight it’s going to be, but you don’t think you could handle more than a few minutes in the saddle.

“Now would be an excellent time to leave!” Naolin shouts from his perch on the back of Tairn’s neck.

You turn your head, seeing three gryphons closing in from your right. Shit.

“We’ll be fine,” she soothes. “If we get high enough, they won’t be able to follow us.”

You shut your eyes tightly as the cold wind hits your cheeks, making your eyes water -- they’d taken your goggles too, and all your knives, everything except your base layer of clothing. She raises her head, blocking the worst of it, tightening up her formation with Tairn and Marbh, letting each of them protect you from one side.

“I think we lost them,” Brennan tells you through the bond, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

Fuir adjusts the invisible ties keeping you seated, guiding you forward to lean against the back of her neck. “Rest. It’s another hour to get home.”

You hum in reply, pulling Brennan’s cloak tighter around your shoulders and relaxing into her. She feels warmer than usual, likely because you’re freezing cold.

You wake to the feeling of the wind dying down, and her wings stilling as she lands.

She settles down into the snowy grass, letting you climb down slowly. 

Brennan is waiting on the ground to help you, gathering you into his arms. “Let’s get you to the infirmary,” he coaxes.

You shake your head no. “Want you to do it,” you say quietly. 

He caves easily, leading you to his room, keeping you tucked into his side with a strong arm around your waist. Nobody questions it or stops you on the way up, your bloodied appearance perfectly normal for a rider.

He settles you into his desk chair, starting to mend the smaller cuts and bruises that he hadn’t gotten to earlier. The warmth of his hands and the feeling of the aching pain subsiding relaxes you, your eyes falling shut.

“You think you can shower?” he asks gently.

You nod. You don’t want to get up, but you do feel absolutely disgusting after the last four days, and a shower is definitely in order. Two showers, probably. 

You follow him into the en-suite bathroom, going through the motions without thought -- washing the blood from your skin, scrubbing off the dirt and making an attempt at washing your hair. Brennan stands by your side, showering himself in near-silence, washing off the day. 

He wraps you in a warm towel, letting you rest against him for a moment. “You should eat something,” he says gently.

You burrow deeper into him in protest. “Later,” you murmur. You just want to sleep. It’s late, nearing lights-out anyway, and you need to rest up for the inevitable scolding you’re going to get tomorrow morning.

“Do you want one of your shirts, or mine?” he asks.

“Yours, please,” you answer quietly; his clothes are always more comfortable, more comforting to you, and you could use that extra layer of his presence right now. You finish drying yourself off, letting him slip one of his black tunics over your head and wiggling your arms into the sleeves.

He pulls the covers back, motioning for you to climb into bed with him. The softness of the mattress underneath you and the feel of warm, clean blankets against your skin after three days of sleeping on a dirty stone floor is overwhelming. You finally start to cry, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re safe, my love,” he soothes, holding you close. “You’re home, with me.”

“I know,” you whisper, trying to steady your breathing. “I know, I just…”

He shushes you softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that I love you, and that I will never let anything like that happen to you again.”

You nod against his shoulder. “Love you too,” you sniff. “Thank you for finding me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I will always find you.”

You relax into him, comforted by the warmth of his body against yours, the muscled arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne that lingers on the sheets. This is the safest place in the world, right here -- not Navarre, not the fortress, but this room, this bed, because Brennan is in it, holding you.

“Get some sleep,” he encourages. “I’ll be right here with you.”

You hum in reply, nuzzling your cheek into his chest and letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep.

[iutdwae]

— the little things they do.

pairing. skz hyung line x reader

cw. fluff, just lots of pure raw love :3

word count. 595

[ found my drafts for my haikyuu blog from 3 years ago so i recycled it into my new interest LOL i’m just buffering while i write out my chan hard thoughts ]

CHAN buys you anything he sees piques your interest. you never have to verbally tell him you want something. whenever he takes notice to when your eyes linger just a second longer on a shirt on the hangers, or you constantly talk about a decoration you’ve been wanting to get, he’ll go out and buy it as soon as possible. he doesn’t just give you gift after gift either, he’ll shower you in so much subtle affection. the way he’d cling onto you and place gentle kisses on your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, everywhere when the two of you are sitting watching tv; he absolutely spoils you. he’s an observant guy, and this really comes to play, especially when he starts buying you things that you don’t even look at, but rather what reminds him of you.

MINHO, though unwilling to admit it, has a 42 hour long soundtrack of songs that remind him of you. he’d been subconsciously compiling a playlist of songs that rubbed him in a way that others didn’t: a slight buzzing feeling in his head, it might even stop him in his tracks, contort his mood to where he was unexplainably snappy (he was just suddenly emotional), and he couldn’t pinpoint the reason for so long. it was when a mental image began to pop up during a certain chord of a song that he realized he was connecting the songs to you, and it wasn’t until it was at 30 hours that you found out about its existence. and the funny thing was, was that the songs were always slow and sleepy-like, almost like he was floating in the dream that was you.

CHANGBIN is always looking out for you. at every time of the day where a meal should be, expect a text from him asking if you’ve eaten. in the mornings, he’ll write a quick good morning message and a “make sure you grab something to eat.” it’s to the point where he’s memorized when you typically have dinner. it progressively grows to him making sure you eat a proper meal three times a day. he’s your top motivator if you’re on a diet, though he also soothes your worries on your body image. his goal is to keep you healthy and satisfied, is all. if he knows you’re too busy to feed yourself properly, expect to find food delivered with a lovely note, never cold and always something he knew you enjoyed. and if he’s home too, you already know he’ll be the one to prepare you something from his own hands.

HYUNJIN texts you good morning and good night every single day, without fail. a lot of the time, it’s really energetic with lots of emojis and exclamation marks. if he’s up late at night, sometimes, it’ll be a lengthy, childish love letter. he’s particularly good with his words at these times, and it’s common to find yourself crying at his constructed paragraph, stacked with innocence and pure love. sometimes, if he’s too exhausted to let his fingers do the work, he’ll lay in bed with his phone by his head and speak flawlessly into the mic, spilling out all the things he wishes he’d get to say to you in person. he’s out and about for work, and you aren’t always in the same timezone as him, so he’s developed a way on having you keep up with his agenda when he’s away. bonus if he sends you a picture of his bright, smiling face with a thumbs up, ready to begin his day.

[five-and-dimes]

Off Book

Sometimes shit gets stuck in my head and I just gotta get it out. Dreamling, human au, soft smut, read on AO3.

~~~~

There is a script.

There is always a script, for everything and anything, even if Dream doesn’t always know what that script is. Sometimes he gets the words mixed up, or he gets the words right but the cadence wrong, and he’s left floundering until someone decides to cut him out of the dialog completely. 

Which. Hurts. But he gets it.

There is a script for this too.

Hob moving on top of him, hands on his hips to pull Dream back onto his cock with each thrust while Dream’s fingers curl around his shoulders. The bedframe is making little thuds against the wall, and Hob’s breath is hot as he pants next to Dream’s ear. Dream is biting his lip, because sometimes silence is more acceptable than the wrong line, and he feels the way his breath hisses through his teeth on a particularly strong thrust. Despite his best efforts, a needy, desperate whine escapes his throat. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Hob rasps, keeping his rhythm as he speaks, pulling back just slightly to glance at Dream’s face.

There is a right answer to his question.

Dream knows what he’s supposed to say. He knows it from porn, from oversharing friends, from partners who tried to spoon feed him his lines- You like it like this, right? I know this is what you want, I know this is what you need- until all he had to do was nod along. He knows what he’s supposed to say, he knows what’s expected, he knows the script here.

“Softer.”

He chokes the word out, and he thinks if Hob hadn’t had their faces pressed together it might have gone unheard, he might have had a second chance to get it right, to say what he knows he was supposed to- harder, faster, more- instead of pathetically pleading for the wrong thing. There are tears welling in his eyes and his breath catches in his throat as he feels Hob still. Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe he will just have to endure rolled eyes and pointed questions designed to let him know exactly how ridiculous he was being, perhaps a few sharp comments about how weird and stupid he was. He would endure it all, gladly, to not be pushed away.

“Of course, love.”

Dream gasps, eyes snapping open when he hadn’t even been aware of clenching them closed in the first place. A tear escapes as he blinks in surprise, looking up at Hob’s gentle gaze. A flash of sadness crosses his face, followed by shining compassion as he leans down to kiss the corner of Dream’s eye, “Anything you want, sweetheart. That’s why I asked.”

People don’t ask because they want an answer. They ask to move the script forward, to follow the tracks laid down in front of them, to get to the ending plotted out in their heads already. For his whole life Dream has been taught that every interaction has one right answer and countless wrong ones. His answer had been wrong.

But Hob just smiles as he shifts them gently till they are laying on their sides, facing each other. He has one hand wrapped around Dream’s waist to hold the small of his back while the other tugs at his thigh, tangling their legs together and then petting up and down his side in long, soft strokes. 

“Like this?”

The next thrust is slow, and deep. Dream can hear himself sigh, wrapping his arms around Hob to pull him impossibly closer, burying his face against Hob’s neck just in case he fails to blink back his tears appropriately. It feels so good, and Hob is holding him so gently and fucking him softly, just like he asked, as if it was actually possible to get what he wants even when he wants the wrong thing. And he still feels certain he will do something to make it all go away.

He opens his mouth to… he’s not really sure what. To apologize, maybe. But all that comes out is a sharp gasp, and he hears Hob moan, a sound he has become so familiar with and fond of over their time together, the sound of Hob feeling good.

“God, you’re perfect,” he mumbled, a hazy note to his voice that he only got when he was truly losing himself to pleasure and Dream lets out a choked sob on the next thrust as he realizes that somehow he hasn’t messed anything up, Hob isn’t just being nice or indulging him to hold it against him later, Hob is enjoying himself just as much as Dream is.

And crying isn’t in the script either, but when Hob shifts to kiss him deeply, he doesn’t pull away at the taste of salt on his lips. He threads his fingers through Dream’s hair as they kiss, moving together languidly, no rush, no urgency. By the time they both come, Dream’s tears have dried, and Hob still hasn’t let him go.

As they clean up- still quiet, still slow- there is a part of Dream that wonders if this is just a new script for him to learn and eventually get wrong. As they curl up in bed together- still gentle, still soft- a larger part wonders if maybe, with Hob, there isn’t a script at all.

[we-stan-cale]

I have enjoyed some of the TCF reaction fics, but I feel like there's a major problem.

Namely, that it's really hard for fic writers to stay motivated for over 700+ chapters, so it feels like they all start off strong for the beginning (especially rescuing Raon) and then peter out. We never get to the really good stuff.

Never reach that flashback when Cale reads the letter from the GoD, or see reactions to Choi Han rushing over to see Kim Rok Soo after getting Choi Jung Soo's records. Never have them see the Sealed God's test, and really... Post-apocalyptic Korea horrified Alberu, for good reason. Not that it's explicitly stated, but when is it ever? He had quite the reaction when he was trying to decide what to tell everyone else.

I've had some thoughts on how I would do it, but fair warning - I'm not much of a writer, and will probably never write it. All my respect for the ones that regularly write fanfic because I have like - less than a handful? Maybe, maybe, if I haven't moved on after finishing this reread, I'll try writing it myself.

The other thing is that I've been reading part 2 - only as far as eatapplepies has translated as I find mtl more confusing than helpful - and I'm really liking the Heavenly Demon. He seems to have fallen for our Cale pretty hard, and I'm interested in seeing how that goes.

So I have been playing around with ideas.

First - Dodam is trying to find 'that terrible bastard', and is dragging around his Choi Han.

He reaches Korea. Og!Cale as KRS, specifically. He has his own attribute, one to help him track down Cale, so he can pull up visions/memories related to that.

He pulls up the dream meeting between Cale and KRS.

There are a few team 1 members present, particularly Kim Minh Ah. Cue a bit of chaos, some 'aha' moments, and the long and the short of it is Dodam is going to pull up some of just what they're team leader is up to. (And if Dodam can figure out exactly which world or dimension to to next, and OG! Cale gets the bittersweet ability to see how his deal with the God of Death prevented the destruction he'd lived through, well... That's fine too)

During that brief moment, the Henituse noticed some strange mana fluctuations and managed to get Rosalyn there. She's basically able to tap into the feed and see and hear what's going on.

And divine intervention (like perhaps a god of love) extends the feed to the Heavenly Demon.

What would follow would be an abbreviated version of the key points. Sure, it loses some of the flavor... But we don't actually need, say, the amusing anecdote where an elf mistook Cale for a dragon.

Anyways, the more I thought about it the more I thought about how team 1 would react.

Because the minute they see those monster statues you know they'll all be going 'what the fuck?!?'

They will probably also nod knowingly at some of Cale's more shocking plans. Like hey, there he goes agreeing to help the Mogoru Empire put out the fire he started with the Whipper kingdom.

Nod, nod

Just like he did when they were dealing with that one corrupt guild

And if they ever get as far as seeing the Heavenly Demon, I'm sure one team member will be like 'Is.. is he flirting with Team Leader-nim?!?'

Cue stories where Team Leader Kim Rok Soo avoided a honeypot - except now they're thinking maybe he was just too dense to notice?