#some other national chain

[thisbibliomaniac]

I'm in a group that specifically exists to promote things going on in Ohio, and any time someone asks for recommendations, there will inevitably be that one person who says "Arby's"

[crimepope]

It's almost like holding people accountable for some sort of shared guilt based on imagined communities (see here: nations) is both unpleasant and unconstructive

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Are we pretending that politicians just do things out of the goodness of their hearts without being prodded by voters, or do we also want to thank the "far left" for not shutting up about this and correctly stating that railroad workers need sick days?

It "stopped trending" because the government ordered them back to work and wouldn't let them strike. Protests are meant to be disruptive and get attention for this very reason. If you deny the right to protest, a lot of people who don't have a personal stake in the matter stop listening and shut up. Don't pretend this apparent disinterest wasn't engineered from the top down. It is not just railroad workers whom they are trying to bludgeon into silence.

Do you honestly think anyone, even that progressive golden boy Sanders (who is mentioned in the linked article), would've kept working on this if they didn't think it would get them political points? The railroad workers never stopped fighting. And we need to pat Biden on the back for helping to throw them a freakin' bone?

Okay. Thank you for doing your fucking job, after you were forced to, now get back to work.

biden 2024 - making things work

[awrkive]

[TEASER] THE LOVE PROGNOSIS (m) — JJK.

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. that girl who thought the guy she met at 19 at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. the girl who thought that her boyfriend at 21 would finally be The One after he introduced her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. you’re the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WORD COUNT 1.2k words for this teaser but the fic currently is at 22k words (heavily unedited). the final estimate is around 30-35k 🤓

WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, weddings and engagement themes, the angst is a bit extreme (medium level tbh) on this one, it’s the… yearning? one sided-love?, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, multiple sex scenes (will specify once the fic comes out), i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me. the full list of warnings will be indicated when the full fic comes out 🙏🏼 anyways warnings particularly for this teaser: drunk oc, implied alcohol consumption, germaphobe jk lol

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanted to do something for jk’s birthday this september and this is what i came up with 😭 i am so soooo so incredibly excited to announce this fic to you guys 😵‍💫 ive been working on this on and off since the last week of july and its currently at 20k words so its coming along really well 🫂 its gonna be a HUGEE HUGEEE fic since its estimated to be around 30k words which will be a first for me hehe <3 pls look forward to it and REPLY TO THE COMMENT SECTION IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST (pls do not send an ask for taglist request 🫶🏼) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!!!! I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS <33333

[ TLP MOODBOARD ]

READ FULL FIC HERE ❗

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it. A huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies. “The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him. As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up

ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed

— your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2024. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works are not allowed.

[psychotrenny]

One error you frequently find among Imperial Core Socialists, even ones that are otherwise well-informed and principled, is a misidentification of Imperialism's role in Late Stage Capitalism. They do recognise that Imperialism is a process that both exists and is an especially brutal form of exploitation that must be opposed by any who seek to create a better society, but they essentially frame it as merely something that the Bourgeoisie does; just another process by which this social class enriches itself at the expense of others. The Imperial Core Proletariat are implicitly treated as bystanders or even victims; their bodies destroyed and their tax dollars wasted so that those at the top of society can increase their returns on investment. They don't seem to realise how absolutely foundational Imperialism is to the current socio-economic order or how the Imperial Core Proletariat both directly and indirectly benefits from it (i.e. social programs funded by the wealth their nation receives from their participation in Imperialism, access to cheap commodities due to the terms of trade that Imperialism enforces etc.). You can't really complain about your taxes going to fund wars of Imperialist aggression when those wars maintain the very system that creates such a tax base in the first place.

That's not to say that the Imperial Core proletariat aren't exploited at all under Capitalism or that they won't be overall better off under Socialism. But even if opposition to Imperialist Capitalism is in the Long-Term interests of the entire Global Working Class, you simply can't ignore that particular sections of it have substantial short term incentives to accept or even actively participate in maintaining it. These sort of contradictions need to be acknowledged if they are to be overcome so that a unified Global Proletarian front can be advanced against the already largely unified Global Bourgeoisie. All members of the Working Class have so very much to gain, but for the workers of the world to unite some must accept that they have more to lose than their chains

[reasonsforhope]

"Millions of Australians just got official permission to ignore their bosses outside of working hours, thanks to a new law enshrining their "right to disconnect."

The law doesn't strictly prohibit employers from calling or messaging their workers after hours. But it does protect employees who "refuse to monitor, read or respond to contact or attempted contact outside their working hours, unless their refusal is unreasonable," according to the Fair Work Commission, Australia's workplace relations tribunal.

That includes outreach from their employer, as well as other people "if the contact or attempted contact is work-related."

The law, which passed in February, took effect on Monday [August 26, 2024] for most workers and will apply to small businesses of fewer than 15 people starting in August 2025. It adds Australia to a growing list of countries aiming to protect workers' free time.

"It's really about trying to bring back some work-life balance and make sure that people aren't racking up hours of unpaid overtime for checking emails and responding to things at a time when they're not being paid," said Sen. Murray Watt, Australia's minister for employment and workplace relations.

The law doesn't give employees a complete pass, however...

"If it was an emergency situation, of course people would expect an employee to respond to something like that," Watt said. "But if it's a run-of-the-mill thing … then they should wait till the next work day, so that people can actually enjoy their private lives, enjoy time with their family and their friends, play sport or whatever they want to do after hours, without feeling like they're chained to the desk at a time when they're not actually being paid, because that's just not fair."

Protections aim to address erosion of work-life balance

The law's supporters hope it will help solidify the boundary between the personal and the professional, which has become increasingly blurry with the rise of remote work since the COVID-19 pandemic.

A 2022 survey by the Centre for Future Work at the Australia Institute, a public policy think tank, found that seven out of 10 Australians performed work outside of scheduled working hours, with many reporting experiencing physical tiredness, stress and anxiety as a result.

The following year, the institute reported that Australians clocked an average of 281 hours of unpaid overtime in 2023. Valuing that labor at average wage rates, it estimated the average worker is losing the equivalent of nearly $7,500 U.S. dollars each year.

"This is particularly concerning when worker's share of national income remains at a historically low level, wage growth is not keeping up with inflation, and the cost of living is rising," it added.

The Australian Council of Trade Unions hailed the new law as a "cost-of-living win for working people," especially those in industries like teaching, community services and administrative work.

The right to disconnect, it said, will not only cut down on Australians' unpaid work hours but also address the "growing crisis of increasing mental health illness and injuries in modern workplaces."

"More money in your pocket, more time with your loved ones and more freedom to live your life — that's what the right to disconnect is all about," ACTU President Michele O’Neil said in a statement.

The 2022 Australia Institute survey... found broad support for a right to disconnect.

Only 9% of respondents said such a policy would not positively affect their lives. And the rest cited a slew of positive effects, from having more social and family time to improved mental health and job satisfaction. Thirty percent of respondents said it would enable them to be more productive during work hours.

Eurofound, the European Union agency for the improvement of living and working conditions, said in a 2023 study that workers at companies with a right to disconnect policy reported better work-life balance than those without — 92% versus 80%."

-via GoodGoodGood, August 26, 2024

[n0tamused]

Genshi/HSR Characters as Dragons!

A/n: It has been a bit since my last dragon post, sorry my friends. Gotten a bit under the weather but I think that small reprieve has given me a lot of time to think of these designs! So I really hope you like them. Let me know what you think, or maybe who you'd like to see next in dragon form?

Contents: Diluc Ragnvindr, Sunday, Trailblazers(Stelle and Caelus) x GN Reader (separate), angsty hcs and also fluff, implied religious trauma in Sunday's hcs? Trauma in general.

Words: 2000

Diluc Ragnvindr:

-The esteemed Uncrowned King of Mondstadt is not only famous for belonging to a rich family and being top of the food chain in the industry, but also for possessing a power unlike any other. Dragons and dragon shapeshifters, although not unheard of or rare, have been scarcely seen since the cataclysm. Besides Dragon Dvalin, not many others are present in Mondstadt today

-No one exactly knows whether the Ragnivindr family had dragon people before, as the family seems to have kept their history to themselves, but if secrecy was their goal then what did bring Diluc to display his skill with claws and fang? Some speculate that it is not the Ragnvindr lineage that carries this power, but rather it is his mother that passed down the dragon blood onto her son. Diluc doesn’t talk about it whatever the case is. 

-Even in dragon form he is hard to mistake for someone else. He carries himself with power in every step and is always well kept. 

-Kaeya used to tease him when they were children, when Diluc didn’t have much control over his draconic form and when he used to stumble from being a kid one moment and being a small hatchling the other. Kaeya would pull at his tail only to get smacked by it. But the two boys were inseparable and trusted one another. Kaeya never spilled the secret of his red-headed brother’s abilities 

-Not even the childhood friends Jean and Barbara knew of the secret

-Yet, that dreadful night came when Crepus died, and flames soared so high and so hot that not even the rain could quench it. 

-It goes without saying that Diluc carries a lot of guilt and trauma from those days and for the first time in his life he found himself truly and utterly alone. He had no one. Crepus was dead, Kaeya betrayed him, Adelinde was just a maid, he couldn’t trouble her and he and any other friend he may have had in his youth have long since drifted apart.

-Grief turned to anger and that anger swallowed him, pushing him onward on the path of vengeance.

-Shneznaya had suffered much of his attacks - well, the Fatui there did, Diluc never risked harming a civilians, and he had saved quite a few hostages that the Fatui had gotten their hands on. In the land of ice, Diluc almost died as well once he came face to face with one of the Fatui Harbingers, and a dragon shifter at that too. He managed to live by the skin of his teeth, dragging his battered self into the snowy deserts that stretched on endlessly

-That incident ultimately sent him back to his home. He had learnt much and suffered plenty, it was time to let the winter turn to spring.

-Adelinde and Elzer had sent him many letters, he knew, he received most of them. Yet he never had the heart to respond to them..

-He came back a new man, scarred both in flesh and soul, yet a small piece of him was… content, maybe numb too. The cold of the nation Tsaritsa governs over certainly took its toll on him.

-If truth be told, he didn’t expect to return from the trip and he certainly didn’t think he’d ever form any sort of notable relationships in his personal life. He didn’t look for them nor did he particularly look forward to any either. His wound always felt too fresh to let anyone close

-Yet you just managed to do just that. Get close enough into this barricade he built around himself, and you helped put soft linen around his wounds, holding him close when he yearned for touch, leaving him be when he yearned for the cold.

-It took a while, but a rose in the wall of ice began to bloom. Flowers, no matter how delicate, always find cracks to grow in, even stronger than on solid ground.

-Diluc is quite protective of you, very much so, but he is not pushy with it. He understands boundaries and he himself is not a fan of always hovering over someone’s head or being in someone’s space. He does have his ears and good eyes, not just his own, that would alert him should any harm come to you

-You did find some of his feathers around the winery. At first you didn’t know they were his, so you just picked it up as it was still a rather impressive feather, yet it became even more precious once you learnt it belonged to him. Diluc didn’t understand why you’d keep it or regard it with so much admiration, but he wasn’t going to voice whatever protest he had that soon died on his tongue

-He reveals his dragon form to you even later, in the lush grass around the Dawn Winery during one dusky evening. Winter was coming so the air was chilly and breezy. You wanted to watch the sunset and to eventually stargaze, but Diluc wanted you warm while you did that, and soon his dragon form was lying behind your back, his warmth seeping into you and keeping you comfortable.

Sunday:

-Not every eye that is open is seeing, and not every eye that is closed is dreaming, so who are we to judge another? Sunday, the dragon in rule over the Land of Festivities, had long since ascended past a simple ruler. His current form alone demanded a certain form of delicate respect, a cautious one at that.

-No one remembers how he may have looked like before, if he had eyes or if those had been claimed by the Harmony or ▇▇▇▇

-Aeon of Harmony keeps their eyes closed, and in doing so rids themselves of any subjective thoughts. All are equal, and together we are stronger, such is the mantra of Harmony and Sunday was adept at putting that image forth. People were happy, people were content. 

-How many wings does Sunday have that are his own? Only two pairs. One pair meant for flight was crippled, cut short, and the other pair shields his eyes from the world. He now only moves and flies when THEY wish he flies, when THEY allow it, when THEY deem it necessary, and not anytime else. These wings are a burden and a blessing. They’re not his own but he hates to think they’d hurt him should he make some error - not that he would, he won't allow himself an error. No..

-Sunday inhabits his dragon form a lot of times, which, in a way, is also dictated by THEM. The only time he is human is when he goes behind the screen to listen to people confessing their bad deeds and their sins, bestowing his blessing and forgiveness unto them and guiding them back on the right track. THEY are merciful, he says, you have been forgiven.

-His words of advice and the action he took to ‘renovate’ the Land of Festivities(Dreams) have gained him much support and love and even many more followers where he previously had less. People generally did like the Oak family, they also loved his sister. She was the pearl of the Oak family, the sun, and he was the moon and the sea. 

-The colorful pair of horns on his head is said to come from the Harmony as well, it is THEIR blessing to Sunday, to look more formidable yet more approachable. It is THEIR gift. People know and people see this as a sign that he is the true leader they should follow. Many have become more easy to get to do certain things - most of them good yes, like behaving and upholding the rules while in the Dreamscape, but other actions came as hidden tactics from THEM to harvest the necessary power needed for the next step.

-Sunday has become lost in this grand scheme of things, and even the thought of the next morning became a thought too far to consider. He barely has time alone and to himself, he can never escape the eyes of THEM.

-He hates to trouble you. You two have drifted apart it would seem, yet from time to time Sunday would find you visiting him, wishing to give him company at least for a little while. And silently he prays he can indulge you - he wants to, he misses you, your warmth, your presence, your voice, your touch. He is welcoming to you. You have an idea of what’s happening: stress, work, duty - it is a response that he offered one too many times, but there was more, something you couldn’t dig up. It was a thorn in your side, you couldn’t get it out.

-So you sit with him, sharing some words and stories over dinner, tea and cakes. Other times you lay with him, his ear to your chest, listening to the gentle drumming of your heart, a lullaby that is the last thing able to have him sleep soundly.

-He dislikes for you to see him in his dragon form, he considers it broken although it looks angelic in the eyes of the majority, but as it is the form he is found in a lot of the time it is unavoidable. Yet you are the only person he allows to touch him, besides his sister. 

-Touch him, pet him, do as you wish. He is there for you.

Trailblazers:

-Double trouble, Baseballer of the Cosmos, the Nameless, the…*looks at smudged ink writing* Yes, the esteemed Trailblazers!

-You may have heard many stories about them, but once you get a look at them in reality, you’ll see just how amazing they are. The world is vast, yet they seem to shock everyone with their…otherworldly appearance.

-They both claim they weren’t like this before - they were two different people, but now they’re not and they do not remember how it all came to be this way. It is odd, but they’ve gotten used to it.

-Despite the appearance, Stelle is the more aggressive of the two and usually packs a more meaner bite, headbutt or a nastier scratch of the claws. Caelus is more shy, despite him looking more scary, he is sheepish and a tad bit more naive. But both of them are determined to get to the bottom of their story and to get back to their own bodies. The stellaron within them also seems to have something to do with their current predicament. 

-There were times where they were glad for it, as they could provide each other with company and comfort, their heads nuzzling their cheeks together or tangling their necks when they go to sleep in the dragon form. 

-Going in human form is rather complicated, neither of the two like it as one would have to be “dormant” while the other roams the world. The dormant one is able to hear most of what goes on outside, but they’re stuck roaming the subconscious like a heliobi - roaming through hazy memories and corridors. They have gotten used to each other's company so much that it is odd to be “alone”.

-They both love the express a lot and their significant other - which also puzzles them as to how they even have one to begin with.. but alright, they’re not arguing against it nor are they dissatisfied. It is funny how, at times, one of them can get sassy with the other when it comes to dates and things, sometimes even jealous. 

-But it is cute, and it works out in the end.

-At times there are situations where it would be better for either Stelle or Caelus to go (battle - Stelle; something more diplomatic - Caelus), so the two can switch back and forth if really necessary

-Their tail in dragon form is something like a beaver tail, although much fluffier. It can pack a nasty hit if you’re unfortunate to be on the receiving end of their attacks..

Size chart:

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws2 @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached

+ @not-the-darknight (hope you don't mind the tag on there! <3)

[cottonlemonade]

hello can i get a medium dragon fruit with coconut water for ushijima please. always with chubby reader. thank you!

Long Distance Relationship

word count: 744 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Ushijima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with some suggestiveness

warnings: spoilers, mdni

request: fluffy-spicy long distance relationship with husband Ushijima

Toshi was the last person to stand in the way of your dreams and if that meant he was going to become the far away trophy husband to a gorgeous media relations executive, he wouldn’t complain. About two months ago - 44 days, but the loneliness made him round up - you had taken the opportunity of a temporary management position in Sydney. Your husband was confident that he could handle your absence for a while, but when he stepped into the apartment the day you had left and his usual call of “I’m home, darling” only echoed through the dark empty hallway, he suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore.

The bouquet of your favorite flowers he had picked up automatically on his way home seemed to mock him now and so he simply handed it to the elderly couple next-door.

Upon hearing that the tall stoic man was going to be a grass widower for the time being they had promptly invited him over for dinner and you were happy to know that your husband, who was just about skilled enough to make ramen and pancakes, was taken care of. During your nightly calls, he would lean on the kitchen counter, hair still damp from the shower and absently nibble on whatever the kind neighbors had made for him. At least the time difference was no issue, he thought as he did the dishes - all alone, without you distracting him by hugging him from behind or playfully swatting at his butt with the dish towel.

It was the distance that drove him crazy. Not being able to play with your hair before falling asleep or pulling you on top of him on the couch as he watched a movie, letting his large warm hands roam over your indescribably soft skin, his fingers tracing the stretchmarks on your pudgy waist for comfort.

He had tried to distract himself by going out for drinks with his friends, but all he could think about was your mischievous little wink when your foot would “accidentally” brush his leg under the table.

Hoshiumi and Kageyama had looked alarmed when their usually blank-faced friend seemed close to tears after two glasses of wine.

He was at an open training with the national team about a week after your leave when it occurred to him that he wouldn‘t get to have sex with you for three months. Lucky for you, his fans kept you well-fed with thousands of snapshots of your sweat dripping husband from various angles, nourishing every thirsty thought you had about him ever since you boarded the plane. He returned to his phone during his breaks to find pictures, videos or voice messages of you touching yourself to the thought of him and Toshi would have to excuse himself to the locker rooms for three to five minutes before resuming his drills.

Whenever he was on the court, he now happily accepted the fine he had to pay for wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck. Post-game interviews were spent bringing you up unprompted, before the camera panned down to Hoshiumi who pushed him out of the way for a proper take on the match.

He only snapped out of his miserable wifeless stupor when Hinata excitedly announced one day that if they won this game they’d head out to play Australia next.

“Toss me all the balls.”, he said to Kageyama before they took their positions on the field. Hoshiumi huffed and protested - even louder when after momentary pondering the setter agreed.

The other team never had a chance.

All the way over in your Sydney office the staff crammed into the conference room. Having bragged practically nonstop about your husband since your arrival, your coworkers crowded around you, watching with bated breath how Ushijima Wakatoshi demolished the opposing defenses, breaking through with every spike like he was possessed. And after what was probably the shortest game you had ever seen, Japan’s fans (and the office) erupted into cheers.

Toshi ignored the reporters who all wanted a piece of the MVP and headed straight from the locker rooms to the airport, booking a last minute ticket from the back of the taxi. He’d buy clothes and toiletries once he got there. It was about 6:30 am when your doorbell rang. Holding up a bouquet of your favorite flowers you were met with your slightly out of breath husband.

“Toshi!”, you called, surprised.

“I’m home, darling.”

a/n: you definitely called in sick that day. And then next day showed him off to eeeeeveryone in the office. Thank you so much for requesting Ushijima! I always love writing for him. I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

[dreamwatch]

Ramblin' Gamblin' Man

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #20 - Prompt: Under The Covers | Word Count: 979 | Rating: M | CW: period typical homophobia (alluded to) | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: secret relationship, sharp suits, Steve Harrington is stupid for Eddie Munson, Fluff but make it lustful

Steve’s at the Grammys. Holy Shit.

It’s not the first time Eddie’s been here, but it’s the first time he’s brought Steve. He walked the red carpet alone last time, the rest of the band ahead of him with their wives and girlfriends, Eddie playing up the bachelor angle. Steve watched from their home. 

Tonight they’re ’best friends if anyone asks’, which Eddie thinks is unlikely because there are some big names here and like, who the fuck are they in the scheme of things?

They’re not nominated for anything; Eddie said they’d been asked to play a cover of Ramblin’ Gamblin Man and both Wayne and Steve’s dad are big Bob Seger fans so the band said yes. See, its little things like that that make him want to climb inside Eddie and never come out. Any other act is thinking about the prestige, Eddie’s thinking about whether his family would like it.

He loves this man so fucking much.

The band are sitting about ten rows back; he’s got a clear view of Sheryl Crow from his seat, and he’s pretty sure that’s the back of Whitney Houston’s head over to his left.

His new phone is buzzing in his pocket. Robin is obsessed with sending him messages. Tonight so far:

‘Is Stevie Nicks there?’

‘If she is please tell me she’s hot.’

‘Shit I think I just saw you!’

‘Is that Sheryl Crow in front of you?’

He deletes them to make space for new messages, hopefully something about how their friends are at the goddamn Grammys and not whether Shania Twain has a nice ass. (She does, he looked.)

Eddie taps his arm. “Okay, we have to go get changed.”

“Huh? Why?”

They’re wearing their ‘Corroded Coffin smart attire’, essentially their usual clothes minus the rips. They’re not exactly scruffy, per se, but… Steve’s in a suit here, you know? (The suit is borrowed, but it’s all about the effort.)

Eddie grins at him. “You didn’t think I was performing at the Grammys in this, did you?” He pulls at the long sleeve tee he’s wearing under his new leather jacket. 

“I mean, yeah, I kind of did.”

Eddie tsks. “For shame, Steve.” He leans in, achingly close, his breath tickling Steve’s neck. “Wish me luck.”

Just for a second Steve thinks about kissing him. Fuck everyone else, fuck the fans, the industry, he just wants to kiss his man publicly. But he doesn’t. Instead he shifts so his lips are practically touching the shell of Eddie’s ear.

“Good luck,” he whispers. 

Eddie shivers. Steve laughs.

The boys all leave, and now it’s Steve and The Wives.

Thirty minutes later the sound of a trashy high-hat fills the auditorium, lights flashing in time to the thu-thu thump bass drum pattern. Despite Jeff being their lead vocalist it’s Eddie, with his raspier, bluesier voice, that’s taking the lead tonight, and doesn’t that just make Steve’s heart fucking cry out with pride? And you know, Eddie, his Eddie, singing at a nationally televised event should be the thing he’s concentrating on, and it is! It is. But when the lights go up the first thing he actually notices is—

“Holy shit, they’re wearing suits!” 

Bonnie says it before anyone else gets a chance. He imagines the four of them are a picture right now, side by side, eyes on stalks because their men are all on stage at the Grammy’s wearing blacks suits, crisp white shirts and… fucking sunglasses. 

Look, he’s seen Eddie in a suit. It was a nice suit, but he looked about as comfortable as a priest in a lingerie store. This is not that.

These are sharp tailored suits, fitted to perfection. Eddie has too many buttons undone on the shirt, some of his chest exposed, that old Fender guitar pick necklace replaced with a solid silver copy (the original with Wayne). The stage lights hit his mirrored Ray Bans, the chain, the rings. But Steve can’t take his eyes off that fucking suit.

He’s going to devour him.

Eddie’s not a frontman, says he loves being able to just do his thing and let Jeff take care of the crowd. But he has a feeling things might change after tonight. 

The audience are on their feet, and Steve grabs the girls so they can head down to the backstage area. They have passes but even then he has to pull the ‘pregnant ladies coming through’ card to get them back to the green room. And when they get in there--

They’re still dressed in those fucking suits.

Eddie spins toward him. “Hey! What did you—“

Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish the sentence, he has his hands on Eddie’s face and he’s dragging him in for a long, deep kiss, Eddie’s eyes wide and cross eyed.

When he finally comes up for air he realises Jeff, Gareth and Matt are all getting much the same treatment from their wives.

“You’re never taking this off, understand?” Steve says breathlessly. “Never.”

“What… the suit?”

“Duh, the suit, yes the suit. You’re never taking it off. I don’t care what you’re doing, mowing the lawn, taking the trash out, washing the car, don’t care. This,” he says gently pulling at a very expensive lapel, “is never leaving your body.” He goes in for another kiss. “God the things I’m going to do to you tonight.”

“In the suit?”

“Fuck yes, in the suit! Told you, you’re never taking this off.”

Eddie’s grin is slow and mischievous. “This is really doing it for you, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

It’s doing it for everyone. There are three respectable married ladies here, mothers no less, acting like groupies at an Aerosmith gig. 

Steve squeezes his hips. “Let’s go.”

“Sunglasses: on or off?”

Steve wants to sink his teeth into him right here.

“On. Definitely on.”

The song:

The inspiration:

[doberbutts]

Hello all, informative trans guy post here. IF you are taking testosterone as part of your HRT or transition process, you've probably heard several times that testosterone is a controlled substance, very difficult to source, and that you are limited on the amount of which you can have at one time. You may even be wondering the truth of these claims.

Well... the answer is... that it's mostly true. But I can tell you how to make things a bit easier on yourself, if you're having a hard time.

This "guide" is 100% USAmerican based. Sorry, but I live here, and don't know how this works outside of my own country.

1: Testosterone is a controlled substance.

Well... it is. Testosterone is a controlled substance in the United States, being a Schedule III drug along with drugs like ketamine. This means that in some states, it can be very difficult to source at all and even harder to source in significant or consistent quantities. This is largely due to people taking anabolic steroids, and very little of testosterone's controlled status historically had anything to do with transgender people using it as part of their medical transition, though that is beginning to change as trans men become more visible. There are now some laws restricting the usage of testosterone for the purpose of transitioning, especially in cases of minors and young adults transitioning through their teens.

This is a little different from estrogen, which is prescription-only in its injectable form but does not have controlled status on a federal level. Testosterone, by comparison, is controlled in all of its forms and possessing it without a prescription is very illegal. While it is possible to source and make testosterone without a prescription, much like estrogen, the legal consequences for doing so are much more severe. For this reason, this is not a guide to doing so without using a prescription.

2: Testosterone is difficult to source.

Provided you have a doctor willing to give you a prescription, and either insurance or financial means of covering the cost of said prescription, testosterone is only difficult to source if you are living in a state that heavily restricts the ability to source Schedule III drugs (or has introduced laws restricting the ability to dispense HRT to transgender patients) or if there is some sort of shortage happening.

Testosterone is available at every national pharmacy chain in various forms, and can also be ordered online by pharmacies that may legally serve your state provided they operate within the state's laws. Remember, cis men take testosterone in various forms for their own hormonal function at times, so this is far from a niche transgender-only drug.

Your state may have restrictions on exactly how much testosterone you may pick up from the pharmacy at any given time, how frequently you're allowed to get it, and occasionally how much you're allowed to have in general. This may also change depending if you are picking your testosterone up from a physical brick-and-mortar pharmacy, or if you are ordering online for home delivery.

Some pharmacies will try to tell you they legally can't dispense more- this may conflict with what your doctor tells you, so if your doctor is willing to give you the maximum your state allows you to have and your pharmacy says a different maximum, you need to get your doctor to advocate for you.

Certain forms of testosterone are more prone to shortages and backorders than others. Gel appears to be commonly backordered, and manufacturer shortages are not uncommon. For this reason, my doctor prescribes me a three month supply at a time. For a long time, CVS would argue with me that they legally could only fill one month at a time. I mentioned this to my doctor, because this inevitably means that with the pharmacists at CVS screwing around with my meds that I am not consistent on my dosing month-to-month because when a shortage happens I simply have to go without until they finally get another shipment in.

Now, thankfully, she wrote me a prescription to navigate around that with the three month supply, but she also had someone from her office call and give them a dressing down on why they needed to actually comply with her orders for her patient. I happen to live in a state that the maximum is truly a three month supply, so CVS should not be arbitrarily shortening a doctor's prescription just because they don't think they should be dispensing that many.

Similarly, testosterone is unfortunately not cheap. I happen to take the gel version, which retails at about $400 USD per bottle, and each bottle lasts one month, so that's about $1600 USD worth of medication sitting on my bathroom sink in that photo with four bottles. Now, thankfully, I have insurance, and the insurance I have allows me to pick up all of my medications for free provided the insurance is actually willing to cover it. This means that I spent a grand total of $0 USD on these bottles. Insurance costs vary greatly, so it's wise to see exactly how much a larger supply will cost you prior to actually committing. My current insurance does not allow me to order medications online, but my previous insurance that I did actually have to pay for medications was often cheaper to order online ($40 for a three month supply) than pick up at the CVS ($20 for a one month supply). This is something to consider depending on your individual coverage.

3: You can only have so much testosterone at once.

As for why I have four bottles- due to my job change, I had an insurance change as well as introduced my state's version of Medicaid as a secondary insurance. My initial insurance did not cover these bottles but did cover individual gel packets dispensed as a sealed box of 30. My current insurance does not cover the individual packets but does cover the bottles. The packets are a slightly different dosage than the pump on the bottle, and when making that switch my doctor accidentally under-dosed me, which then created a significant excess when I went to pick up the next month's bottle. As a result, that initial bottle lasted roughly two months before we caught the under-dosing via my bloodwork, which means I opened the second bottle right as I was getting ready to pick up the third (and fourth and fifth).

This is not an illegal situation as there is a clear paper trail within my medical record and prescription history detailing this situation playing out, but it can be dangerous in certain states to have this much over the amount you're supposed to have. It can be illegal to stockpile a Schedule III drug, so I do not recommend intentionally creating this sort of situation for yourself.

That being said, this sort of worked in my favor. Schedule III drugs often need a prior authorization from your insurance before they are willing to cover these medications. Drugs that are not necessarily expected within your demographic, such as being marked as female but taking testosterone, also often require a prior auth. A prior auth can take up to a month to go through insurance, though usually is less than a week. I just passed my testosterone anniversary in late September, which also means my prior auth expired, as they're only good for one year. Instead of, you know, telling me my prior auth expired, CVS just sent me a text stating they were having a problem with my order and that they were in contact with my doctor about it. A week went by with no change so I called my doctor, who reported they never received anything from CVS but would look into the issue and see what the problem was. They called me back the next day to tell me about my expired prior auth and that they fixed it. I then got the text from CVS saying my prescription was ready to pick up about 5 minutes later. That does mean that if I did not have this excess, I would have once again simply not had testosterone for about a week.

4: Public vs Private Insurance

Whether or not your state's insurance will cover testosterone depends entirely on your state. Obama, when creating the Affordable Care Act or now known as "Obamacare", did make it so that states are supposed to be required to cover HRT for transgender adults and even minors in certain situations. Trump did away with several of these protections, which then emboldened certain states to whittle away at what was left. Other states, like my own, strengthened their protections in response, making it easier to access HRT.

This means that while my own state allows me to get free testosterone through the state's insurance (which is income-based eligibility, and I'm making a significant amount over minimum wage but still considered below my state's poverty line) - a friend of mine in another state cannot access HRT using his state's Medicaid, and is required to use private insurance. Additionally, I have insurance through my job, but it does not cover a large enough percentage for it to be feasible. This means that legally, I have to pay for my workplace insurance (barf, that's $200 out of every paycheck) but on the flip side because of my income eligibility I also can still have the state insurance as my co-insurance and that will clean up whatever leftover costs my private insurance leaves me with.

It also means my top surgery will be free, provided I can get it approved through my private insurance. My public insurance will pay the remaining balance of whatever my private insurance is willing to cover, but will not pay for things my private insurance isn't willing to cover at all.

This also means I have to attend exclusively doctors that will take my public insurance if I want to do things this way- however that's a fairly robust list in my state compared to others, so I didn't have to change doctors at all.

This situation is not always the case for every state's Medicaid- but it is worth looking into if you need options and your current insurance sucks or if you're not insured at all.

[allfearstofallto]

The Sweetest Spoil of War

Yandere! Demon King Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: a war ended with an unwilling marriage. The fighting ceases, but at the cost of your hand.

TW: Forced marriage, NSFW implications, size difference, mentions for Dub/Non Con, virgin! Reader, yandere/obsessive themes

AN: another one that has been sitting in the drafts for years!! But I finally finished this first part. Hopefully I'll have the second, more smutty part written up soon!!

A brush of blush across the cheeks. A swatch of color on the lower lip. Many swipes of a comb through your hair. The tightening of your bodice fixed your posture, and you were adorned with heavy jewels and rings. All the while, a celebration was happening outside.

It wasn’t a celebration you could see, you weren’t allowed to move a muscle, couldn’t even turn your head to look out the window, in fear that you may disrupt the many people who were spending their time making you beautiful. But it was one you could hear. As the maids picked and prodded at every part of your body, cleaning you here, applying makeup there, covering this, uncovering that, you listened to the happiness of the people. Your people. Well, technically not your people any more.

They popped fireworks and sang songs. Their cheers grew louder and louder as the minutes went by, as you got more and more dolled up. Street vendors loudly advertised their wares and you could hear children playing in the streets again. It was probably the first time they’d left their house in months, it was probably the first time it was safe enough to do so, they had every right to celebrate. But at what cost?

If they knew the price that was paid for their safety, the price they paid for freedom from the war, the war that they were losing, would they still cheer? Would they still dance and sing? Would the celebration still continue?

The price was you, of course. The second daughter of the King of the land and the gem of the nation, or so you were called. Good deeds came like second nature to you, they were as easy for you as breathing. The way you donated and volunteered was like nothing the royal family had seen. Your kindness was a tall tale spread around like wildfire and marriage proposals were in abundance for you. You were like a tourist attraction. Rather than coming to visit your country for sights, people would visit to meet you, as if you were some sort of celebrity.

Your nation was small, but what it lacked in land, it made up for in stocks and trade. It was a modest business that made more than enough money. But greed is a drug, one that your father was heavily addicted to. Expanding was a bad option, you always told him so, but your words fell on deaf ears, and as the farmers marched further and further upon land that wasn’t theirs, the true owners of it fought back.

For a year, your father insisted that the war with the rival nation could be won. You always wondered why he thought that. The land that he’d intruded on belonged to none other than the demon king himself, a man feared but rarely ever seen. His endeavors were like horror stories spread across the nation, and your tiny little country didn’t even have an official army. Rather, there were a few patriotic men who were sent off to fight first. There wasn’t much of them left to bury when they returned. Then who left was decided by draft. The first men were a warning for what was to come and everyone knew that. Moral dwindled when people began running away from their own country, rather than fighting for it.

Negotiations started when the supply chain got cut off by the demon king’s army and with a nation as small as yours, no other kingdoms were offering help. The talks were started through letters at first. Your father sat at his desk, lips in a tight grimace as he read the sheet of paper over and over again before writing his response in return. Things went on this way for months, the writing back and forth as war raged on right outside your door. Until the day he showed up.

You didn’t think that the demon king himself would come, but you watched out from your front door as the carriage pulled into the town. It was large and ornate, covered in shiny stones and what appeared to be bone as well. It was a mixture of the high class of the aristocrats and the barbarian ways of life of the demons. The hoofs of the horses clopped down the road and the carriage swayed ever so slightly side to side. The windows were covered so you couldn’t see him, but you knew he was in there.

The driver of the carriage himself was also a demon. A burly blond one with piercing, blood red eyes and horns like a ram. When he snarled at one of your citizens, you could see his teeth. They were sharp like the heads of arrows, like they could bite through the flesh of a mere human at any time. It made your skin run cold as you realized that all demons shared the same few traits, long nails, horns, and sharp teeth. You could only imagine what those natural advantages were doing against the measly weapons the army was given.

You could already feel your palms sweating as the carriage stopped in front of your castle. The entire family had to come out to greet guests, as were the rules, but all you wanted to do was slink back into your room and pray that the war would end naturally. And you weren’t the only one silently wishing to leave. You spared a glance out of your peripheral to the rest of the family and saw that they too stood stiffly, or did everything they could to avoid eye contact with the large carriage that casted an almost laughably ginormous shadow over your family.

The blond boy pulled at the reins of the horses, stopping them in front of the castle, before stepping down from his seat in front of the carriage. Even for a demon, his face was easy to read. He didn’t want to be here, and he most definitely didn’t want to have to be cordial. You could see the hatred for your father in his eyes, the way he wanted to just lunge at him and end things in this very spot, but he didn’t.

“His Highness, King Kirishima Ejiro,” he said almost sarcastically. Then he opened the door to the carriage behind him.

Big didn’t even begin to describe the man. He was humongous. Not only was he tall, but he was also thick with muscles and hands that looked like they could crush your skull with ease. You looked at him and you saw a demon. His hair was long and spiky, and unlike the companion he’d brought along who had curled horns, he stood straight up, only adding to his monstrous height.

The suit he was wearing was still adorned with demon-like paraphilia, bones and bottles filled with what you could only assume were potions. His scarred hands were covered in rings and the sly smile he gave your family showed you enough of his teeth to prove to you that you’d rather die than go near his mouth.

You didn’t know where to look, you could barely even think as he stood before you. His eyes weren’t red like his subordinate, rather, his were a beady, inky black color that scanned across your family. They were taking in every single sorrowful and fearful face, until they landed on you.

You felt your heart stop beating completely when he looked at you. Your breathing became shaky and you felt yourself about to lose consciousness from his gaze alone. Why was he still looking at you? The rest of the family only got a glance, but you, it seemed like he had to forcefully peel his own eyes away from you.

“You have a lovely family,” he said. His voice was deep, yet booming, it felt like your ankles were shaking, just from hearing him speak. If not for the fact that he scared the life out of you, you would’ve scoffed at him. A beautiful family that he was going to ignore when negotiations started. But maybe that was for the better.

He was led inside, following behind your father who was shaking in his boots. He had to duck to get through the door and his footsteps on the tile floor sounded more thunder cracking inside the walls of your home. He looked around with a strange look on his face, one that seemed almost enthusiastic, but that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be happy while he was in enemy territory, not while he could easily be killed.

And that was the plan at first. Lure him in and have the army raid the palace, he’d be powerless since he expressed through his letters that he’d only be bringing one guard. Your father thought he was stupid or naive, but casting eyes upon him showed you that one guard was enough. Anything else would’ve been overkill.

They were in talks for what felt like a few mere moments and he was coming back down the stairs with a smile on his face. You’d long since hidden in your room to keep from having to entertain the blond demon that was sitting in your living room, but curiosity made you peek your head out when you head the door to the office open. Your father was aggressively shaking the demon king's hand, but you could see the horror in his face. There was sweat pooling on his forehead and he looked like he would throw up at any moment. You later found out why he looked that way.

At the dinner table that very night he announced that the war would be ending and the supply lines would open back up. There was a unanimous cheer from the family as you and your siblings argued over who would get to tell the people of the nation that they were free to roam the streets again. You were so ignorant. The way your father looked at you should’ve told you enough. It should’ve told you that the war wasn’t going to end with a trade or an apology, it was going to end with a wedding.

The fireworks continued to boom and crackle as they filled the night sky, while a little more blush was applied to your cheek. No one else in your family knew, they thought you were getting married to some commoner who you’d fallen in love with. Only you and your father knew the truth, and resent didn’t even begin to describe what you felt for him.

Your dress was too heavy, your hair was uncomfortable, you had to stand a certain way, or makeup would get on your collar and the entire look would be ruined. You looked beautiful, that’s what they said to you, but could they not see the hurt on your face? Or the fear? If they saw, they didn’t care, and you were guided down the stairs.

Past the home that you grew up in, the walls lined with family portraits, and your family themselves waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. Your mother was crying, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. When she found out the truth, she’d be crying for real. They were going to find out eventually, you knew they would, you just wished you could see the aftermath of it.

A carriage was waiting for you, one of your family’s own. Normally in an aristocratic wedding, the carriage from the family of the groom would be sent to pick up the bride, but the story your father spewed gave an explanation. The man you loved was too poor to even afford his own carriage, but love doesn’t know money. You scoffed, but held your tongue. If it were for the sake of your family and your country, you’d go along with it.

You would ride your family’s carriage into the forest, about halfways to the demon king’s palace, then you would switch into one of his. That way, your family wouldn’t catch on, that way, they didn’t have to watch in horror as you were given away to a demon, even though your father knew that they wouldn’t allow something like this, but he did it anyway.

It was an unpleasant ride. People rarely ever traversed through the forest so the carriage shook and jolted. You were getting farther and farther away from the noises of celebration, farther and farther away from your people. If only for one night, you would like to celebrate too, the war was a horror that you were living in as well after all.

You pressed your lips together to keep from crying. You’d already cried enough and you truly didn’t know him or how he’d respond to your tears. You spent hours sitting in that chair getting ready for him, what if he were the type to get angry if just one thing was off? If your make up was smudged or your eyes puffy, would he kill you where he stood? You held it in and pretended to be strong.

The carriage stopped and your door was opened, the second he did. The driver gave you a knowing look as he offered you his hand to help you step down. His fingers were cold, that’s all you could think about as you looked over to see the new carriage that you’d be riding in. The same one that had pulled the demon king into your family’s palace. Your heart sank as you realized that he might be in there. You weren’t ready to meet him up close, not yet.

The blond demon was here again, standing at the side of the carriage. Horses from the demon kingdom always felt much larger. Like they were eight foot tall monsters and not animals. You couldn’t believe you were focusing on the horses, you were trying to look at anything, anything, that would keep you from having to get into that carriage. But he was already opening the door and the carriage from your nation had already turned and pulled away, not even waiting for the transaction to be completed.

That felt like the final straw. Being left behind by one of your own and stuck with a demon. A demon who was obviously sick of waiting for you and who looked like he was just going to force you inside himself.

“The king doesn’t like waiting,” he said, gesturing towards the door. With a meek nod, you walked towards it. Dead leaves crunched beneath your feet and the sound of an owl made the entire ordeal more ominous.

You looked to the demon, then back to the carriage door. He didn’t expect you to go in by yourself, did he? Even in your home nation, the gentleman would offer the lady a hand and help boost her up the step, a boost that was much needed, since demons were naturally taller and the step was too high for you to even reach on your own.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, eyes having already practically rolled into the back of his head.

The step seemed as if it came up to your waist in height, yet he asked you what you needed. “I obviously can’t get up there by myself,” you spat, holding your hand out for his help. You’d never felt the skin of a demon before and honestly, you didn’t want to now, but there was no other choice. The deal had already been made.

He didn’t even pass a glance at your hand, stepping closer to you, he placed his large palms around your waist and hoisted you up with little effort. You tried not to squirm in his hold, afraid that he might drop you. Even for a moment, you were so high up, before you were placed into the carriage, with the door being slammed shut in your face.

The carriage began to move before you were even fully seated and you were thrown back. If this was the way the demon kingdom treated their royalty, you could only imagine what was going to happen to you. But you tried not to dwell on it. Your chest was already tight with fear and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead.

This was it, you thought to yourself, even as you gazed out the window, all you could think was that this would be the end of you. All alone, all by yourself. You wondered what your siblings were doing, what your mother was doing, if anyone was even thinking about you at all, of if the celebration was just too much for them to care.

The carriage swayed and thumped against the ground for what felt like hours. The pretty dress you were in had grown a bit damp from your sweat and you tried to fan yourself. You were nervous. Hot and nervous and all you could do was listen to the hooves of the horses as they hit the ground and wait for your eventual marriage.

Then everything stopped. Of course the carriage driver demon was rough with this as well and you were thrown off of the seat and onto the plush floor of the vehicle. You barely had a moment to catch your breath and regain your bearings before the door swung open quickly, making the whole carriage shake from the force.

Still on the floor, still a bit sweaty, with fearful eyes, you came face to face with the demon king. His teeth were once again what you noticed, those big, sharp teeth that were held in a mouth that was grinning at you cheerfully. He looked overjoyed to see you, even in your crumpled up, terrified state.

“By the gods,” he whispered quietly while still looking at you all over. It seemed like his eyes couldn't focus on one place. Your face, your hair, the swell of your breast, the small of your waist, from your heel clad feet, to your hair that was put into an ornate updo, he couldn't get enough, “You're even more beautiful the second time around.”

You were shivering. God you were shivering like you were freezing. Your stomach was in your ass and your heart felt like it was going to leap from your chest. All that time, all the time you spent being picked and prodded at in that chair, being made to look good for him, all that time and it just now hit you what was happening to you. It started before you could even think to stop yourself and while he looked you over like you were a gift from heaven itself, you began to cry.

Tears ran down your pretty cheeks, smearing your makeup in their wake and you started to hic and sob. You had no control over it and the way his smile fell when you began to weep, made you cry even harder. You were going to die by this demon's hands. You were going to die because your father, the coward that he was, sold you off.

Kirishima turned to look at his subordinate, his face a mix of emotions. So quickly, you could barely see it, he grabbed the blond male by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, “I thought I told you to make sure she was taken care off,” he growled those words between those closed sharp teeth.

“I did,” the blond male muttered back. His tone, his attitude, even the way he was looking at the demon king was disrespectful. He didn't seem the least bit afraid or even bothered by the fact that he was being scolded. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“Then why is she crying, Kastuki?” He spoke the words slowly before dropping the man back down onto the ground. He landed with a thud, but didn't protest, “I've told you about your driving. Humans are fragile! They can't handle something like that!”

He merely scoffed and rose from the ground, “Then do it yourself next time.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before he said anything. Instead, he focused on your trembling form, still sitting on the carriage floor, “Are you alright, darling?”

He tried his hardest to be gentle with his voice, to be quieter so not to scare you. He reached a hand out to you, but you flinched away from it. You didn't know what to say or even what to do. A part of you felt like the second you left this carriage, it would all be real, you'd really be engaged to this demon, you'd really be with him for the rest of your life.

He tilted his head at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile to the best of his ability, “I'm sorry if Katsuki scared you, but I promise nothing will hurt you.” He reached into the carriage and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you closer to the door with ease, it was like you weighed nothing to him, “but we should really get you inside the castle and into something more comfortable.”

Your body was tense and you tried to think of what to do. A way out of this. How would you be able to run away from a demon, in the whole nation of demons? Would you even be able to go home? Would you getting away make a war start?

You couldn't even think about it to yourself, couldn't even respond before you were picked up by him and held against his firm chest. He was so much bigger than you, so much taller, being in his arms made it feel like you were fifty feet above the ground and all you could do was shiver.

He carried you into the castle. It looked nothing like your own home. It was more worn down, but somehow it was bigger. The tallest tower looked like it was piercing the clouds and the windows were the size of the doors you had back home. You sniffled and sobbed the whole time you were carried up the stairs, and when he finally reached out to open the front door, you finally managed to say something.

“P-please,” you managed to stutter out between your pathetic little hics.

“Oh, so she can speak,” he replied back a little too happily, “and here I was thinking you were mute. That wouldn't have bothered me though, you're still gorgeous.”

More tears ran down your face as you tried to regulate breathing, to get more words out, to hopefully beg for return home before the marriage was consummated, “My father…he…he made a mistake. I didn't want this,”

He kept walking into the castle as you spoke, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed off the walls. You were brought to a day room where he sat you down on a rather large couch, so big your feet just barely managed to touch the ground. He kneeled in front of you while you sat and cupped your cheek in one of his large hands, the more he touched you, the harder you seemed to cry, soaking his thick fingers with tears. He knew you were scared of him, but he just couldn't stay away.

“I know you didn't want this,” he cooed, his breath hitting your face, “I wanted this.”

Before you could speak, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wet and suffocating and all you could do was sit there limply as he engulfed your mouth with his, tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

He tasted of meat and alcohol, typical dishes for demons who were celebrating and his grip on you was firm. His hand had slithered down from your cheek to your shoulder, then to your waist. You couldn't pull away if you wanted to. Your strength and size was nothing compared to him, just one of his hands was almost enough to completely hold your back. You'd hurt yourself more if you fought back.

When he pulled back, you were panting, breathless. Your first kiss and it was so brutish and even worse than that, it was taken by a demon. Your eyes were still wet with tears and lips moist with saliva, but he was looking at you so longingly. The way you makeup was running from the sweat and tears, your hair disheveled from the kiss, the way your chest was rising and falling, he thought you were more enticing now than ever before.

“Such beauty doesn't exist amongst the demons,” he whispered against your lips, threatening to kiss you again, “I could've slaughtered everyone in that tiny, little kingdom, you know, and I was planning on it. Until I saw you.”

He traced up your back to where the buttons for your dress began. You could feel him fiddling with them, trying to get them to pull apart, but his fingers were too big and his nails too sharp. As more time went by with him unable to access your body, he grew frustrated until he just ripped the dress apart in the back. The fabric gave way easily to him. It was probably no harder than ripping paper.

“Your father didn't hesitate when I asked for you,” his hand was warm, almost hot, against your bare back as he kept ripping the fabric away, “a part of me was angry about that. His own daughter, his blood. He gave you away so easily. But I was also ecstatic. Even if you don't want me, I want you. I know how you feel about me, how I as a demon scare you…” the dress was pulled forward, over your shoulders, but he stopped there, “The war may be over on paper, but if you ask for it, I can kill him.”

You gasped, “Why would I want that? Why would anyone want that?” You were shouting and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of how scared you were. Or how easily he mentioned killing someone. Or how a part of you actually wanted it. A small voice in your head wasn't upset about the idea of him killing your father for putting you in this predicament, and that scared you.

“He gave you away,” he stated plainly, “You have every right to be angry. Angry at him for giving you away,” he pulled the dress down so that it was sitting around your waist. His tongue, that large, hot tongue licked down from your neck to your now exposed breast, making your breath hitch, “and angry at me for taking you.”

“You could still give me back,” You begged quickly, hoping that maybe if he was showing some empathy, some care for what you were feeling, he would let you go.

He shook his head and gave you a knowing look, “I wish I could, but I know how you humans work.” He didn't hesitate to reach his hand up beneath the ripped fabric and tulle that was once the skirt of your dress, “you wouldn't be wed again anyways, not after what I'm gonna do to you.”

Your sobs grew even louder at the words. Despite your abstinence, you knew the implications of those words, you knew what he meant. Despite your lack of experience, you knew why he was spreading your legs and easing his body between them, you knew why he was ripping away at your bloomers, exposing your wet core to the cool air.

“I told myself I'd wait till the night of our wedding, but I fear myself slipping with need for you,” this “need” made itself known when he began to grind his hips against you, the fabric of his pants spreading your lips and rubbing directly against your clit, “They sent you here looking like this, and I'm supposed to contain myself?” he bit his lips with those sharp teeth of his, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard that he was ripping holes in it.

“I won't take you without your permission,” he stated, but he was still grinding his clothed cock against you,like his mouth and his body were two completely different entities. He was speaking one thing, but actively doing the opposite.

You whimpered as you felt him, your eyes just leaking tears. You couldn't speak a word, your labored breathing wouldn't let you. Your chest was heaving as you tried to open your mouth, with only sobs and pleads coming out. Instead you just shook your head, praying that that would be enough of him to stop.

Despite your begging he still pressed his lips to yours once more in another passionate kiss. This time he felt even more roughr than the last. Was this a game for him? You thought to yourself. Did he get off on watching you beg and plead, just to take you anyways.

But he stopped nonetheless and pulled away. It seemed like he was straining to even do that, the way he was looking back at you like he could pounce on you again. He let out a shaking, sigh and clenched his fist together before stepping back and finally giving you space away from his large form and body heat.

“The wedding will be held in three days,” he said with a forced smile. He picked up a blanket from the other couch and tossed it over you, covering your modesty. You held onto that blanket as if it were your life line, hiding your nude body behind it as you shivered and looked at him, “I can guarantee I'll stop now, but I'm not so sure about then.”

And with that, he was gone. He closed the door to the day room, leaving you alone in this large demonic mansion with only the ticking of a clock as your company. You were too afraid to move, too afraid of what was to come next. You didn't know where he wanted you to go or even if he wanted you to move at all.

But you did know what he wanted from you, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The flotsam and jetsam of our digital queries and transactions, the flurry of electrons flitting about, warm the medium of air. Heat is the waste product of computation, and if left unchecked, it becomes a foil to the workings of digital civilization. Heat must therefore be relentlessly abated to keep the engine of the digital thrumming in a constant state, 24 hours a day, every day. To quell this thermodynamic threat, data centers overwhelmingly rely on air conditioning, a mechanical process that refrigerates the gaseous medium of air, so that it can displace or lift perilous heat away from computers. Today, power-hungry computer room air conditioners (CRACs) or computer room air handlers (CRAHs) are staples of even the most advanced data centers. In North America, most data centers draw power from “dirty” electricity grids, especially in Virginia’s “data center alley,” the site of 70 percent of the world’s internet traffic in 2019. To cool, the Cloud burns carbon, what Jeffrey Moro calls an “elemental irony.” In most data centers today, cooling accounts for greater than 40 percent of electricity usage.

[...]

The Cloud now has a greater carbon footprint than the airline industry. A single data center can consume the equivalent electricity of 50,000 homes. At 200 terawatt hours (TWh) annually, data centers collectively devour more energy than some nation-states. Today, the electricity utilized by data centers accounts for 0.3 percent of overall carbon emissions, and if we extend our accounting to include networked devices like laptops, smartphones, and tablets, the total shifts to 2 percent of global carbon emissions. Why so much energy? Beyond cooling, the energy requirements of data centers are vast. To meet the pledge to customers that their data and cloud services will be available anytime, anywhere, data centers are designed to be hyper-redundant: If one system fails, another is ready to take its place at a moment’s notice, to prevent a disruption in user experiences. Like Tom’s air conditioners idling in a low-power state, ready to rev up when things get too hot, the data center is a Russian doll of redundancies: redundant power systems like diesel generators, redundant servers ready to take over computational processes should others become unexpectedly unavailable, and so forth. In some cases, only 6 to 12 percent of energy consumed is devoted to active computational processes. The remainder is allocated to cooling and maintaining chains upon chains of redundant fail-safes to prevent costly downtime.

[batboyblog]

https://www.tumblr.com/batboyblog/763234650399424512/the-recent-chappell-roan-thing-is-why-i-absolutely

I frankly also get the impression that a lot of these people genuinely think another Trump term will just be “business as usual” or “it’ll only hurt the people who deserve to suffer” and that they’ll just be able to hide away from the consequences for four years before someone comes along and fixes the mess for them and they get to benefit.

I don’t think they have any realization of just how bad this is gonna get the second time around, because the first time Trump was metaphorically behind a chained fence and held back by strong rope. This time he’s being let loose alongside his fascist theocratic friends.

I've puzzled about this for some time, because like do people honestly not remember what it was like? what those 4 years were like? the fear, the chaos, the national embarrassment. Every day waking up and going "oh god! what did he DO! while I was asleep!" and how often you'd wake up to some story that he'd tweeted something scary and dangerous at 4am. I believe him threatening to nuke North Korea (the "Fire and Fury" tweet) was one of those very early AM specials that we all woke up to.

I mean for people like Chappell, its hard to remember, but Trump has been the more or less national main character for 9 years, since the fall of 2015. I mean an 18 year old first time voter could have been 8 years old when Trump came down the gold escalators told us all that Mexicans were rapists and he was running for President. So for anyone under 30, Trump is normal since every election they've been able to vote in, he's been the Republican nominee. I've spent 9 years of my life, across 5 elections fighting Trump directly or indirectly. Depressing thought that.

but past that there's been a national effort to gaslight us all into thinking "yeah no it was normal" I mean I remember the media coverage of 2017, the first year or so of Trump's Presidency, every few weeks or so there'd be some "is it time for the 25th amendment now?" story about if Trump's weird behavior this time for his cabinet to step it and remove him. (A quick google turned up CNN Oct 2017, New York Times May 2017, The Guardian July 2017, and Vox February 2017) compare that to coverage today? The term "Sane-washing" has been coined where when Trump says something bonkers it gets characterized as "sometimes meandering" rather than "incomprehensible" and "worrying"

figures in the media have gone so far as to claim there's just no point to covering new Trump scandals because "they won't move the needle" which really should not be a journalist standard. And we see that they do, take North Carolina's Mark Robinson. Caught in a massive scandal, involving sex, porn, and being a Nazi, he's now down massively in the polls after nation wide coverage. Trump just had new court documents opened that showed he wanted a riot on January 6th, that his reaction to a mob threatening the life of his Vice-President was "so what?" and they he knew full well that he had lost but was going to "fight like hell" any ways. And its not much of a story, indeed I'm seeing more news about a NY Republican Congress having worn black face (new story today) than Trump's effort to over throw the government and kill Mike Pence.

past the media's gaslighting of course there's been a major and on-going campaign to effect how we see reality. I know that sounds very woo-woo, but to step back for second, most of what we know about the world is stuff people tell us, so you know Joe Biden is the President because other people have said so, most likely you've never met him or even seen him in person. Well as more and more people turn away from traditional media, and traditional media turns more and more to making of money by confirming the bias of people, it becomes easier and easier to slip things that are not real into "facts we are told". So for example "Joe Biden is President, and also in decline" there's never been any real evidence of that, but if on social media you are bombarded with it 4,000 times a day... you start to take it as understood wisdom.

people are also getting worse and worse at not just taking what they're told if it confirms biases they already have. Former Vice-President Al Gore wrote a book nearly 20 years ago now, called "The Assault on Reason" which had a ton of very interest neuroscience about the ways that moving images, TV he was talking about, by-pass the logic centers of the mind, the way we relate and trust someone talking to us in a way the written word does not. I can't help but reflect on that with the rise of TikTok and short form video as a "source of information" (lol)

any ways this is a long winded way of saying bad faith players, Republicans, left wing grifters, and agents of chaos, have been very good at flooding the zone all through the Biden Presidency with stuff "student loan debt" remember when that was SO! important SO big and Biden "not doing anything" (untrue) was the biggest deal? well yesterday his newest plan got unlocked in court and 3 out of every 4 people with loan debt will get relief.... oh you're just now hearing about that from me? huh... funny... I thought it was the number one issue and reason we should never trust Biden and the Democrats... weird....

but there have been other issues pushed up as THE! issue, its all misdirection, its all meant to get natural Democratic voters to feel frustrated, upset, and hopeless, and not to vote their interest. The world is a big complex multi moving machine, and anyone telling you that one issue either fixes every other issue or totally totally outweighs everything else and should for everyone, is most likely BSing you and doesn't have your best interests at heart.

and lets be clear, Trump is a Rapist he's a lot of things, traitor, racist, scumbag, criminal, scab, tax cheat, fraud, etc but for me any ways, I'm not gonna vote for a rapist to be President and if other people aren't gonna do everything they can to stop a rapist from being the President I don't want to hear how much they care about progressive issues.

[satorisoup]

ᰔ GLITTER GLUE ft. hajime iwaizumi

ʚ CW : “one sided” crush. confessions. cursing.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

it’s valentine’s day, or rather, the most dreadful day of existence, if you were to say so yourself.

walking through the halls of school on a normal day was one thing, but now it seems that every corner you turn, you’re rather rudely reminded of your state of loneliness on the soul national holiday of relationships. bouquets of reds and whites, floral smells corroding your nostrils with every inhale, cute plushies holding little hearts, pretty cards with love written in sparkly pink gel pen. all gestures of admiration that are so sweet to any other person, but quite frankly, it’s just making you feel stupid for coming to school today.

you feel even stupider when you’re walking into class, eyes avoiding the gross kissing couples as you make your way to sit down, and you’re faced with exactly why you mourn valentines day so much.

hajime iwaizumi, the third year who sits one desk aside to you in class 5, who just so happens to be the person your heart decided to fall head over heels for. it was an unmistakable crush with the way your cheeks felt hot when he’d stretch in his seat, or the way your heart fluttered when he would make small talk when there was a particularly boring lesson. he’d even occasionally walk with you during lunch period in the midst of conversation or sharing a snack, before his friends would come and steal him away. he was sweet aside from looking intimidating, and it all the more so made you infatuated with him.

you watch him grumble outside of the doorway at one of his friends, a roll of his eyes before he’s striding into the classroom to take his proclaimed seat. you feel disappointed in yourself that you still haven’t been able to work up the courage to ask him out, too much of a coward to ever admit your interest in him. you take a quick glance at his hands, and what you see makes your heart drop even lower.

you catch a short glimpse of a pretty red valentine in his left hand before he’s quickly moving to neatly stuff it into the inner pocket of his jacket.

it looks like someone had beaten you to the chase, and it was only the first class of the day.

throughout the entire period, you notice the off behavior of your classmate as he sits in his seat. iwaizumi seems nervous almost, his leg softly bouncing up and down, and you also take into account that he hasn’t said a single word to you, or even looked at you this entire time. that usually would seem more normal on a regular class day, but today it was a free period, much to everyone’s liking. after dismissal, iwaizumi wasted no time to get up and out of the classroom before you could even ask him if he was alright.

classes today seemed to go by as if minutes were hours, and students had gotten even more enthusiastic as time went by as they all exchanged their thoughtful valentines to their partners. you think you’ve heard enough random “i love you’s” to last you 3 lifetimes in a singular day, but what you were seriously dreading was lunchtime. where everyone would walk around hand in hand through the courtyard, gifts, cards, flowers, big huge teddy bears to little tiny ones, kissing that should probably be saved for behind closed doors, and especially confessions. not wanting to be surrounded by the exact thing you were missing out on, you opted to stay inside for lunch.

the empty classroom you sit in is completely silent, the only sounds you hear coming from outside through the windows, voices of distant squeals and happy laughter. you sigh at your own demise when you decide to finally get up and wander around the halls. paper heart chains and pretty streamers litter the lockers and walls, and even some of your teachers had little decorations as their own way of getting into the spirit. it really was unfortunate that you weren’t able to celebrate today with who you wanted to so badly, as your fate lies in your own thoughts because you were too chicken to ever say it. and now, your crush was starting to act weird, which meant he had probably already accepted a confession, or maybe even confessed himself, to a person he was interested in. you wanted to be angry, you really did, but it wasn’t your place to be mad at him. he wasn’t ever yours to begin with.

as you stroll along and unwontedly admire the atmosphere around you, you hear the uncomfortable squeak of shoes against the wooden flooring, alerting you that you weren’t alone. when you look up from your feet to meet the eyes of the person who had interrupted your thoughts, you can physically feel your stomach sink to your feet.

iwaizumi stands at the end of the hallway, his hands behind his back with that same expression he had during class, even if it was barely noticeable. he looks at you before he straightens up.

“hey.” is all he mutters.

…

“hi.”

he takes a few steps forward to meet you where you had halted before and begins to speak.

“i was looking for you.” he voices.

“oh.. well you found me.”

you aren’t helping much with his attempt to cure the awkwardness around you two, but even so, he continues to talk nonetheless.

“why weren’t you outside for lunch?” he asks you.

“eh, didn’t wanna be around all that lovey dovey stuff. but, um.. why were you looking for me?”

you feel nervous when iwaizumi is silent, his hands now coming out from where they risided, holding that same red valentine from this morning.

“because i wanted to give you this.” he replies.

you notice the tinge of pink on his usual hardened face, looking down to where he held out the card to you.

you carefully grasp the messily accessorized card, studying it as you feel your heartbeat pick up to a faster pace. the red, heart shaped card stock proposed a simple question of ‘be my valentine?’

and as cheesy as it was, your lips pull into a wide grin when you look back at him, his hands tucked into his pockets while he waited for your answer.

“is this a confession, or am i reading the glitter glue wrong?”

“shut up, it was oikawa who dumped all of that shimmer shit on it…” he rumbles, recalling the short memory of his best friend tossing glitter onto his card while scolding him, “iwa, you seriously lack so much pizazz. girls love sparkles and glitter!”

you laugh at the thought of his friend taunting him over his card, and then you’re suddenly blushing at the concept of how iwaizumi had taken his time to make a special valentine, just for you.

“well, i accept your confession, iwa…”, “even if it’s twinkling in ‘shimmer shit’.”

it was iwaizumi’s turn to chuckle when he laces his arm around your shoulders, and he smiles as he walks with you.

“idiot.”

yes, valentines day was usually a dreadful day. but the surprises it holds? those aren’t dreadful at all.

[fancy-fangs]

"oh c!ranboo was such a pussy" "c!ranboo was so annoying they didn't have a single backbone" ARE YOU ALL CRAZY??? DID WE WATCH THE SAME DSMP???

Imagine you're just a guy, you don't remember anything, you don't know where you came from, you don't know where you are, you barely remember who you are and you see you have nothing to your name. You see this big ass nation full of people and PEOPLE ACTUALLY KILLING EACH OTHER - of fucking course you'd keep to yourself and try to not start conflicts!!!

He literally saw how people were hunted and murdered over simple disagreements!!! He literally saw how people got tortured for not doing what they were told!!! Of course he would follow the laws and whatever else he was told. Of fucking course they didn't go around starting fights and punching people around.

They were literally already at the bottom of the food chain and saw what happened to ppl who were already better off than him. Why the fuck would he not just choose to listen to everyone else.

Plus as mentioned before, he didn't know shit. He didn't know how things worked. He didn't know how their community and society worked. He didn't know the rules of their made up countries. Of course he'd just listen to what people told him. What fucking other option did he have.

Yes he was a people pleaser intrinsically from the start and obviously that stayed a part of his character (plus meta reasons and bla bla) but some people are acting like he was the biggest loser for behaving the way he did.

PLUS he got so much more confrontational when he had things to lose??? When he owned things, when he had a husband, WHEN HE HAD A CHILD - he was fucking ready to kill over them no hesitation. He didn't care enough about his own back, but he kept Tubbos like a guard dog that bites off your hand if you make the wrong move.

Do not tell me Ranboo didn't have a backbone and was such a pussy, when he literally would have fought philza about leaving tubbo alone.

C!Ranboo was a teenager with self worth issues in a society where people killed and tortured over the smallest disagreements. I think he was okay to be a bit of a "yes-man"

[scarletts-scribbles]

Reader works for Lena that turns into working buddies with benefits, but reader starts catching feelings. Maybe angst but happy ending?

Highly Unprofessional

⁀➷ Pairing: Lena Luthor x Reader

⁀➷ Notes: Okay so I haven’t written smut properly before so hopefully this is a decent attempt :,) Let me know what you think! Sorry this took a while, its like 3k words long so editing was a bitch.

⁀➷ Summary: When a one-time hookup turns into a regular occurance, it sets off a chain of events which you're helpless to stop.

⁀➷ WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI, fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public (I mean its in her office but the door was open oopsie)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

In the bustling chaos of corporate life, where stress reigns supreme the last thing you want to do is mix business and your personal life. It only ever ended in disaster.

When you’d first moved to National City, you’d never imagined just a few short months later you’d be working directly under the city’s most prevenient businesswoman. Lena Luthor was a force to be reckoned with. It was a miracle you’d gotten the position of her assistant at all, your CV was sharp, but it wasn’t anything to be in awe of so when you’d got the call that you’d received the job it was safe to say she was over the moon.

It taken a little while to warm up to you. She’d been a rather cold at first. Not that you could blame her of course, given her family history. However slowly but surely you found her opening up more to you, building up her trust gradually. In the meantime, whilst she’d grown to depend on your assistance, you payed close attention and slowly learnt her tells. You knew when Lena was upset, she’d get that little crinkle in her brows or that when she was anxious, she’d gently bite the left corner of her lip. Infact you’d become so observant of her habits and body language that sometimes you knew how she was feeling before she’d register the emotions herself.

One particularly hectic day in the bustling office, the air thick with tension, you noticed Lena pacing nervously in her office. The telltale signs were there – the crinkle in her brows, the subtle lip-biting – Lena was clearly on edge about the upcoming meeting with a major client.

Truth to told, seeing her like this made you feel anxious as well. How could someone as powerful and accomplished as Lena get so nervous? You’dhad never seen her like this before, and it was almost like seeing a completely different person.

You had to help.

You knocked gentle on the door, clearing your throat quietly to announce your presence, “Miss Luthor?”

A wave of relief washed over Lena as she heard your voice calling through the door. This meeting had been weighing heavily on her mind, and she was desperate to find some way to relax before it started.

“You know you can call me Lena.” She smiled and nodded for you to enter.

You stepped into the room and approached Lena with the gentle warmth and confidence that always radiated from you. She found herself walking over to you, looking at you deeply before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. You took her closeness as a chance to reach out to squeeze her shoulder and when she didn’t object, you softly applied pressure to her muscles.

“Fuck.” She let the curse split out involuntarily before trying to regain herself, “Do you need something from me?”

“You’re tense, let me help?” You mumbled softly to which she nodded. Your touch was like a balm for her. As you began subtly massaging Lena's shoulders, the tension began to subside, and her frown faded away, you let your hand slide down to her wrist, holding it gently as you pulled her over to the pristine sofa at the other side of her office, “Come, sit.”

"Thank you." Lena took a deep breath and sunk into the seat. She could feel the stress and anxiety that had been weighing heavily on her began to melt away. She turned her head toward you and smiled softly, letting out a sigh of relief. Lena gave in and allowed herself to sink deep into your warm embrace. With her worries temporarily relieved, she closed her eyes and began to enjoy the feeling of your hands working away at her tension.

Leaning in, you reached to place a comforting hand on her thigh, feeling the subtle tension in her muscles. You had no intention’s behind the action. Your touch was light, meant to reassure rather than intrude. But Lena’s eyes slowly opened and cast over to meet yours, her emerald green iris's seemingly sparkling with a new found feeling.

It was obvious she was a little surprised by the gesture, but there was a moment of pause. She tried to be professional, but her body was responding positively to the touch.

The feeling was both calming and exciting, sending a shiver of desire down her spine, the creeping onset on desire making her leg’s bounce nervously.

She looked into your eyes and saw the unmistakable spark of attraction between the pair of you. Of course she’d noticed your lokg glances before and she wasn’t ashamed to say she’d given you some the day you’d left her office when you’d interviewed for the position. Her previous tension was soon replaced with a subtle feeling of arousal, and she couldn't help but crave more.

"Could you...keep going?" she whispered, words shaking through her soft yet overwhelming sensual voice - filled with desire.

“You mean?” Your voice was quiet as you very slowly moved your hand up her thigh, waiting for to confirm her consent, “Is this okay? I need to hear you say it Lena.”

"Keep going," Lena whispered. Her voice was raspy from the tension, but there was no mistaking the excitement in her voice. She wanted you to keep touching her. She craved it. Soaked in the intimacy of your touch. "Please..."

The feeling of your hand gliding over her thighs was intoxicating, sending shivers of arousal through her body. You teased her lightly, fingers reaching her line of her panties. You could hardly fight back your own growing blush at the feeling of the wet fabric. Lena let out a soft moan as you softly ran your finger around her entrance – she was so sensitive. Her eyes closed once again as she leaned back into the couch, surrounding herself to your touch.

Your touch was intoxicating. You kept it light, but your slow strokes were sending her body into ecstasy. Lena's breaths grew shallow as she leaned toward you, her lips meeting yours in an intimate kiss.

"Don't stop," she whispered against your lips, her body urging you to keep going as you edged her sodden clit, rubbing circles as her back arched involuntarily.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You whispered back with a husky tone as your fingers continued to work their magic on her. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere. Your touch became firmer, getting closer to her core, making sure every stroke and tease was intense. You were doing your job finely, the way she moaned into your mouth was driving you wild with validation, knowing you were making her feel good. Truely you were completely under her control, willing to do anything she desired - anything to please her.

With each passing moment, the lust between you both grew more intense, fuelling your passion. Both your excitement only grew with every teasing touch and feather-light kiss. You knew she enjoyed the buildup of anticipation just as much as you did. In the heat of the moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself to the moment.

Your hand never stopped tracing along her sensitive folds as Lena’s moans grew louder, encouraging you to continue. She kissed you again and the kiss deepened as she pushed against you, urging you to take control. Her body ached for you as you pressed your fingers against her entrance, playing with her and teasing her. You held her deep in your embrace, feeling her shudder helplessly, her body giving into yours as you continued to stroke her. Finally, you gave into the inevitable and pushed inside, finally giving her the release, she craved.

Lena writhed beneath you, gasping for breath as you drove her toward climax. She muscles were tight against your fingers and you couldnt feel your hand going a little numb from how hard her thighs were squeezed together. She kept her hands clenched in your hair as you felt her body convulsing beneath yours. She moaned, high desperate sounds before finally, with a shudder of ecstasy, she peaked. Her back arching helplessly as she reached her climaxed under your guide.

Once she’d caught her breath, you carefully pulled out of her, making sure to be gentle against her sensitivities. You stroked her hair tenderly, feeling her body begin to relax against you as she came down down from her high.

"Do you feel better now?" you asked her, as she leaned back against you, still breathing heavily from the experience.

Lena sighed softly, a satisfied smile on her face, “So much better," she replied, her voice still light and breathless from the rush "Thank you for helping me relax.”

You brushed your fingers across her cheek, lingering for a beat. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, the shared look of pleasure and satisfaction. You couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than just stress relief. As your head wandered the clouds, you didn’t notice Lena fixing her hair, tying it back in a tight ponytail.

She checked her watch, seemingly debating something for a moment before her voice pulled you back down to reality, “I think we’ve got just enough time.” She said, sitting back down against you, pulling on of your legs over hers, opening you up.

“Enough time for what?”

Lena smirked mischievously, tugging at the edge of your skirt. “For me to return the favour...”

･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ﾟ･

That had been the first of many times you’d helped her relax. It had become a sort of ritual really. Whenever she’d have a big meeting or important event coming up, she’d come to you to help her unwind. Truthfully the first it’d happened; it had taken you a few days to really process it all. The experience had changed you. You couldn’t just see her as your boss anymore. She was more than that. Lena had always had a stunning body of course but now it was almost as if though you couldn’t keep her eyes off her.

The ways her hips curved had you weak in the knees, it wasn’t just her physical attributes though. It was everything, the weak she spoke, the way she held herself. It was intoxicating. Safe to say you were happy to lend a hand whenever needed. Maybe you could’ve kept this up forever, helping her out without a second thought – she was still your boss after all. But this latest time had changed something in you.

It had started off in its usual way, you’d seen the meeting scheduled on the calendar and let yourself into her office – the two of you were way past knocking now. Lena knew what was about to happen, she’d been waiting for it.

As you entered her office, Lena didn't waste any time before pulling you closer to her. You felt the heat and need radiating off of her as she kissed you passionately, her hands moving greedily over your body. You moaned as she pushed you up against the desk, her mouth hot against your neck.

Suddenly, she pulled back, looking at you with a predatory glint in her eyes. "Do you know what I want to do to you?" she whispered, her voice low with desire as her tender fingers danced down the front of your shirt - making a show out of unbuttoning them.

As she spoke, Lena left the kiss and moved down your body with purpose, her lips and tongue leaving a trail of heat and anticipation down your torso. Your hands found her hair, pulling it as if to guide her further where you wanted her. But the CEO had plans of her own. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it now, right this moment. So much so that she hadn’t even bothered closing her office door.

Without warning, she pushed your shoulders down, forcing you to sit on her desk. Lena smirked, moving in to kiss you deeply, so deep that it left you chasing her lips as she pulled away. Without a pause, she pushed your legs apart and planted herself between them, her eagerness so apparent it sent a shiver of desire right through you.

You could feel her looking up at you as she kissed through the fabric of your panties, her hands moving to stroke and soothe wherever they could reach.

You couldn't help but moan now, one hand coming to grip her hair and the other gripping the edge of the desk with such force that your knuckles turned white. You were helpless to resist as Lena worked her way deeper, your grip became more frenzied, less able to control yourself.

It hadn’t taken long before your panties had been pulled down and Lena was happily satisfying herself on your clit whilst you slowly grinded against her face, desire driving you wild.

Then something suddenly caught your attention. You heard someone in the hall…

You tried to voice this but through your whimpers, not much was articulated. Despite this, Lena didn't even flinch when she’d heard them, seemingly not bothered by the accompanying approaching footsteps.

Instead, she kept going, her tongue working magic on you as she held your hips steady with one hand. You could hear people talking just outside the open door, but Lena didn't seem to care. In fact, it seemed to turn her on even more - the thrill of getting caught.

You tried to stifle your moans, but it was impossible with Lena's skilled mouth on you. Your body was writhing on the edge of the desk, your toes curling as the pleasure built and built. And still, she didn't stop.

Lena never broke eye contact with you as she continued to work her tongue and lips over your pussy, sending you further and further into ecstasy. The sounds of voices in the hallway were drowned out by your moans, which the Luthor seemed to be enjoying immensely.

She added a couple of fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit your sweet spot, and you felt your body convulse in response. You couldn't hold back anymore, and you came hard, your body shaking with the force of it.

Lena didn't stop, though; she kept going, licking and sucking until you were overstimulated and sensitive. Finally, she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she grinned down at you.

“You’re so fucking hot.” She laughed, the sound of her voice sending shivers down your spine again.

Your cheeks blushed crimson as you cleaned yourself up, “Do you want me-” You took a step forward but stopped when she held out her hand, shaking her head as she fixed her hair.

“I just wanted you darling, nothing more. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a meeting to attend too.”

With that Lena smoothed out the crease in her skirt before heading out the door, leaving you to catch your breath, still perched upon her table.

Darling?

The pet name replayed over and over in your head as the day passed by. You couldn’t stop thinking about her, about these sessions.

It wasn’t just about favours anymore. It felt like she had wanted you. You’d wanted her. God you’d been trying so hard to ignore the fact you’d crave her touch when you were alone. It had gotten to the point where you’d started to miss simply being around her. In fact you’d started coming in earlier and leaving later just to be near her. But you had tried to ignore it. Dammit! Why couldn’t you stop thinking about it!

The rational part of your brain was telling you to pull back, to remind yourself that her actions were just physical and didn't mean anything more. But the other part of you, the part that craved the closeness and heat of your body wanted her for more. You wanted to feel more than just the pleasure of their bodies. You wanted to build a connection, a partnership. You wanted more.

Oh shit... You wanted love.

The realisation had made you sick. What you wanted could never happen. You knew Lena’s life; it was busy and packed. She didn’t have time for something solid. It was why your little favours had worked so well. You’d kept each other going. You could hardly tell her that you wanted more.

Goddamn it!

ﾟ: ･ﾟ: ﾟ･

The ringing it your ears hadn’t really faded since you’d realised. You’d called out of work the past 2 days; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. Her eyes were a tease, a reminder of what you couldn’t have. Instead, you’d stayed home, trying to wrap your head around all the feelings swirling round in your head, your rapid thoughts never seemed to slow down long enough for you to process them.

You were in love with Lena Luthor.

You were in love with your boss…

Casual sex! That was all it was meant to be, no, no, no! How could you let yourself fall like this?

In all honesty, it felt like you were grieving. Grieving something you could never have. Something forbidden. It was awful.

You felt like shit. It had taken most of your energy to make the treacherous journey from your bed to the sofa - there was no point getting dressed. It wasn’t like you were going to work today anyway. You couldn’t bare the thought of facing her, the thought of it ate you up inside.

As you lay on your sofa, consumed by the weight of your emotions, a knock on the door suddenly startled you. You contemplated just ignoring it, hoping whoever it is will just get the hint, go away and leave you alone. However, the knocking persists, growing louder and more insistent with each rap.

With a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself off the sofa and reluctantly opened the door. To your surprise, it was Lena standing there. A concerned expression etched across her face. Her usual confident demeanor seemed softened by genuine worry.

"Lena?" you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, scanning the disarrayed room. "I've been trying to reach you for days. What's going on? Why haven't you been at work?”

Lena's concerned gaze met yours, and you could sense the weight of unspoken questions in her eyes. Your throat tightened, grappling with the words you hadn't dared to say.

"I... I just needed some time to think," you admitted, avoiding direct eye contact with her, staring hard at the floor, "Things have... changed.”

Her brow furrowed as she took in the gravity of your words. "Changed how?"

You hesitated, then let out a defeated sigh, "I can't keep doing this, Lena. Us. Secretly fucking each other at work just because we can. I don’t want to just be someone of the side anymore, I want to be more than that."

There was a moment of silence as Lena processed your words. Tension hung heavy over the room, a silence so thick you could’ve slice it with a knife, and you wondered if you had just ruined whatever fragile arrangement existed between you.

Finally, Lena spoke up, her soft voice wavering as she spoke, "More? What do you mean?"

"I mean..." You paused, gathering your courage. "I want a real relationship, Lena. Not just these secret little rendezvous we keep having. Lena, I want something genuine."

Her eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability. "I didn't think... I didn't know you wanted that," she admitted, her usual confidence waning.

"I do," You nodded slowly, affirming your words, "I can't keep pretending that this is enough for me. I want more than just physical connection; I want an emotional one too."

Lena took a hesitant step closer, the distance between you diminishing. "I thought we were both on the same page, I thought-.”

"No, Lena, I can't do this anymore," you repeated, the weight of your unspoken desires finally finding a voice, “I can’t keep pretending I’m fine with this anymore. I’m sorry but I just can’t.”

Lena's expression shifted, torn between conflicting emotions. The room hung in suspended silence, waiting for her response.

Lena’s eyes softened, and a vulnerable smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I never realised how much you wanted this," she admitted, a hint of regret in her voice. "Maybe I've been too guarded, too afraid to admit it to myself…”

You felt a mix of relief and hope as Lena continued, “I'd think I’d like to try a real relationship too…”

There it was. The sentence that changed your life. You had a chance with Lena and you weren’t going to let it pass you by. Maybe this time, mixing your business and personal life wouldn’t end in disaster after all… even if it was horribly unprofessional.

✧･ﾟ: *

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