#ALL THE OTHERS WERE A REASONABLE LENGTH

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[dkettchen]

sometimes it turns out you're not an XS, you're just an XL who happens to be 5'4"

[thirstyvampyr]

I let out something his mom said to me when she was pissed about him and boy did he ran with it, so tonight I think we’re gonna go sleep at his sister’s, help her with her sand shoveling for a couple of days and go home maybe??

[wonder-worker]

"In reality Richard III invented a Woodville scare as a screen for his own conspiracy"

-A.J Pollard, "Richard III and the Princes in the Tower"

[fettery-fetterie]

GIRL HELP WDYM I REACHED 30 TAGS??????? OMG???? I WASN'T EVEN DONE YET

ANYWAYS 31st: and that compared to a relationship where the communication lines are basically none or very fucking weak then yeah it is an upgrade I think. Idfk I was never in a relationship I'm just picking from the ones I've seen in my life

[junonreactor]

whenever i tell anyone that i've thought on and off about cutting my hair really short but haven't been able to bring myself to do it i can see the thought flash across their face. like "oh it's because you're afraid you'll look too much like a boy" [insert pity or understanding]. i fucking wish i could be certain to look more masc by cutting my hair. instead i am 85% sure i will look like a very specific genre of market auntie.

[louderfade]

exene talking about the state of the world. the good stuff starts at eight minutes. or you can just read the transcript complete with the usual errors that accompany robot transcribed speech (the irony of which is not lost on me). maybe it's not about transhumanism and living forever (or maybe it is who knows), but there's definitely an agenda of surveillance and control at work which is designed to keep the powerful in power. cash rules everything around me and you will own nothing etc. the future is worse.

[petrichorium]

i need you to know that that poly embassador fic got me chewing on drywall (in a good way)

lmfaooooo thank you mrs ambassador is a woman of only the most immaculate taste 🫶🏻

[crehador]

this season’s astonishingly mediocre romcoms are making me realize shikimori was waaaaaay better than i originally gave it credit for

[whereserpentswalk]

The nazis that you see in movies are as much a historical fantasy as vikings with horned helmets and samurai cutting people in half.

The nazis were not some vague evil that wanted to hurt people for the sake of hurting them. They had specific goals which furthered a far right agenda, and they wanted to do harm to very specific groups, (largely slavs, jews, Romani, queer people, communists/leftists, and disabled people.)

The nazis didn't use soldiers in creepy gas masks as their main imagery that they sold to the german people, they used blond haired blue eyed families. Nor did they stand up on podiums saying that would wage an endless and brutal war, they gave speeches about protecting white Christian society from degenerates just like how conservatives do today.

Nazis weren't atheists or pagans. They were deeply Christian and Christianity was part of their ideology just like it is for modern conservatives. They spoke at lengths about defending their Christian nation from godless leftism. The ones who hated the catholic church hated it for protestant reasons. Nazi occultism was fringe within the party and never expected to become mainstream, and those occultists were still Christian, none of them ever claimed to be Satanists or Asatru.

Nazis were also not queer or disabled. They killed those groups, before they had a chance to kill almost anyone else actually. Despite the amount of disabled nazis or queer/queer coded nazis you'll see in movies and on TV, in reality they were very cishet and very able bodied. There was one high ranking nazi early on who was gay and the other nazis killed him for that. Saying the nazis were gay or disabled makes about as much sense as saying they were Jewish.

The nazis weren't mentally ill. As previously mentioned they hated disabled people, and this unquestionably included anyone neurodivergent. When the surviving nazi war criminals were given psychological tests after the war, they were shown to be some of the most neurotypical people out there.

The nazis weren't socialists. Full stop. They hated socialists. They got elected on hating socialists. They killed socialists. Hating all forms of lefitsm was a big part of their ideology, and especially a big part of how they sold themselves.

The nazis were not the supervillians you see on screen, not because they didn't do horrible things in real life, they most certainly did, but because they weren't that vague apolitical evil that exists for white American action heros to fight. They did horrible things because they had a right wing authoritarian political ideology, an ideology that is fundamentally the same as what most of the modern right wing believes.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯! 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s been stealing your panties since the week he met you. Collecting them in different pretty colors and fabrics. Using them to jerk off every night with the groan of your name. Stuffing them under his nose or using them to stroke his cock, either way had him cumming to the thought of you all the same.

He takes your stuff and holds them over your head. Watching your tits bounce as you whined and struggled to reach. Smirking widely as he teased, “if you want it back so bad then kiss me.” Blood rushing to his cock when you actually get on your tip toes to kiss him shortly, forcing your lips to stay on his when you try to pull away.

Who pretends to be asleep until he hears your soft moans at one in the morning. Quietly cracking open your door to watch you touch yourself, his hard cock already in hand as you moaned and mewled so fucking prettily. Stroking at the pace of your desperately working fingers till you two orgasm at the same time.

Who ‘accidentally’ sends you a video of him lazily jerking off on his bed, his lip in between his teeth and his other hand behind his head as he looks directly into the camera. The message coming through followed by a small “oops, sorry sweetheart, wrong person”

Who starts getting bolder and bolder even after you suspect him of being the reason for your missing underwear. Leaving slight yet noticeable touches to your ass and boobs whenever he had the chance. Always laughing it off and joking about how soft you were and about how perfectly your tits fit in his hand.

Who calls you up to his room when he’s about to cum, his lips parting in heavy breaths as you walked in clad in your short pajama set. Your eyes widening as he fisted his length, eyes meeting yours with a loud groan as he spilled onto his hand. “Shit, can you grab me that box of tissue?” Letting out heavy breaths with a dark grin.

Who starts walking around the house with nothing but low hanging sweats to get you flustered. Brushing up against you or wrapping his toned arms around your body. His rock like abs against your back as he whispered into your ear. “Well these shorts are shorter than usual.” Loving the way your face heated up for him.

Who starts to make you sit in his lap for everything. Saying that you weren’t allowed to watch tv unless you did it from his lap. Or that you couldn’t seat at the table to eat breakfast unless it was again, on his lap.

Who suddenly wants to spend all his time with you so that you couldn’t go out as often. He wanted you, and would make you his at some point.

Who finally sinks his cock into your tight pussy after teasing you subtly all day. “Waited so long for this.” He grunted, his thumb running over your bottom lip which was swollen from all his rough kissing. “Feels even better than i expected.”

You cried out loudly, small whimpers falling past your parted lips as his hold on your legs tightened. Holding them in place over his shoulders as he fucked into you harshly. Thick cot brushing against your g spot as it hammered deep.

“That’s it, just take it baby. Please mama? Take it f’me yeah?” He breathed, his head in your neck as he licked and sucked dark marks onto your skin. Snapping his hips into yours in oute need, not being able to get enough of the moment that he dreamed for so long about.

“Does that feel good baby?” Watching as you nodded with a teary cry, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off his sheets.

“Look at me.” he groaned, your eyes peeling open to meet his as you both filled the room with your noises. “Wanna fill you up so bad, pussy’s so fucking perfect.”

“S-satoruu— nngh,”

“Oh fuck baby, let me hear my name again.” He breathed, hand snaking lightly around your neck. Your choked moans and babbles getting louder as your stomach tightened. Gojo never slowing his pace as he fucked you dumb.

“Haah, Sat-oruu, ahh,” you mewled, your pussy tightening as your body began to tremble. Gripping onto the sheets at your side at the orgasmic build up.

“Can feel you getting close, squeezing me so tight,” Gojo grunted, lewd squelching sounds filling your ears each time his cock bullied its way deep. “I’ve got you baby, cum f’me.” His hand squeezed down on your throat, your wet eyes meeting piercing blue ones with a chant of his name. His cock twitching inside you as your pussy messily thanked his cock.

“O-oh fuck- ‘m never letting you go you know that? Wanted you for way too long.” His eyes fixed on yours as you shook your head.

You felt so good, and he found him self unable to come to a stop even as he got close.

“S-satoru—”

“C-can’t baby, feels so good, shit— gotta cum in you.” Pressing his lips onto yours to muffle your whines as he gave his final sloppy thrusts. His hips flush against yours as he buried himself deep inside you with a moan. His eyes rolling back as he spilled into you, pumping ropes after ropes of the sticky substance onto your walls.

Gojo pulled away with a satisfied breath, swiping his tongue across his lips with an unapologetic smile at the look on your face. “Sorry princess.”

[prokopetz]

Though the proverbial "showdown at high noon" is largely a media invention, many famous gunslingers of the American Old West did engage in formal duels at least occasionally. The main differences from the popular media version are twofold:

Formal duels were rare; most famous gunslingers duelled only once or twice in their entire careers, and a gunslinger with three or more duels under their belt would have been considered extraordinarily prolific (and also extraordinarily stupid – see below);

Those gunslingers who did duel typically made a point of accepting challenges only from opponents of demonstrably inferior skill; there was something of an unspoken agreement among prolific duellists to avoid duelling each other by any means necessary, as they knew the surest way to cut short one's career was to duel someone who actually knew what they were doing!

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because some day I want to write a semi-competitive tabletop RPG where the player characters are all rival gunslingers living the high life on manufactured drama and exaggerated tales of their legendary prowess while going to elaborate lengths to avoid having to actually fight each other.

[rbfclassy]

MANHANDLE ME! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...headcanons on how the jjk men manhandle you in bed

INFO...jjk men (toji, sukuna, gojo, geto, nanami) x fem!reader, true form!sukuna, dacryphilia, rough sex (no like actually), this is all consensual btw, no choso bc I cannot picture him for some reason lmao, manhandling, degrading, all of them are just super mean, name calling (whore, slut, bitch), dacryphilia, slapping, tit slapping, spanking, choking, overstim, cream pie, squirting, oral (f & m receiving), deep throating, anal, hair pulling, spit, everything is just very out of pocket, not proofread

OTHER...like and reblogs are appreciated

SUKUNA

we all know sukuna to be such a cold hearted individual and not to mention rough. He is a big, strong man that with easily carry you around and toss you around like nothing, so he’s, that translates to when he is pounding your cunt till you’re in tears. He has you on top of him, on hand around your throat, one groping your tits as they bounce in his face, and the other two guiding your hips up and down his thick length like you were some fleshlight. You literally have no control, never, he uses your cunt, your body like it’s his own. You’d lose count of how many times he’s came in you and how many times you came around him. It was always messy and you were always on the verge of passing out from overstimulation until you felt a harsh slap on your tits. He’d grip your throat tighter, taking some of cum that had spilled from your full pussy and rub it over your face and tits. “Is it too much for you, huh? Too fucking bad. I don’t want hear nothing come out of your mouth anymore except your cries.”

TOJI

another man who is super strong and a cocky son of a bitch. He will literally carry you while fucking you, leaving you absolutely helpless. He has you in a full nelson while standing, his cock pistons in out of you at a relentless pace while you have to sit there and take it cause he’s his hand locked in behind your head. Drool spills from the corner of your lips as incoherent babbles come from you. Your pussy is leaking, so sore and swollen from how hard he was thrusting into you. Your toes curl as another orgasm rips through your body. And since he loves carrying you while fucking, toji will also lift your body against the wall and put you on his shoulders to eat your pussy, holding you there while he sucks on your clit. It doesn’t matter how much you wiggle or beg him to slow down. “Fucking take it, bitch. Awe, are you cumming again? You like being fucked like a whore don’t you? Your pussy is clamping around me.”

GOJO

believe it or not, gojo is mean. He’ll push you on the bed and trap your body between his legs before spanking your ass over and over until it was sore. He grabs a fistful of your hair, taking joy in the look on your face before he drags you off the bed to the floor. You sit on your knees, anxiously looking up at his while he takes his hard cock out. He grips your jaw, slapping your face a few times to hear you whimper. Then he will shove his cock in your mouth and fuck your throat like no tomorrow. He grabs your hair, using it as leverage, ignoring the way tears poor down your cheeks and how much spit is dripping from your mouth. He takes his cock out to let you breathe, roughly pulling you closer to his dick to rub it all over your pretty face. He slaps your face a few times again, forcing his dick down your throat in the process, balls slapping against your chin. “Sluts like to get their throats used, baby. Isn’t that what you are, hm? Yeah…that’s what I fucking thought. Uh uh, don’t cry now.”

GETO

okay so geto is like a menace to society. He has your legs pinned back, his big hands fighting every chance you have to move out of his grip while he fucks your tight ass. Tears are streaming down your face while he pounds into you. You’ve squirted so many times, but geto wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. The bed beneath you was soaked with your juices and his sticky cum. You stared up at him with desperation, each thrust from him felt like the air was being taken out of your lungs. You clawed at his chest, biting hard on your bottom lip, the taste of iron on your tongue. One his hands reached up and grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the way his cock disappears in your hole. You watched, dumbfounded, completely lost in bliss that you didn’t even realize you squirted again. “Don’t act like you don’t love this, my cum in your ass. Look at the dumb look on your face, you want it so bad. Just keep watching me use your hole, slut.

NANAMI

this is mean is sweet, but don’t piss him off because he can’t get real serious. He’ll fuck you from behind, one leg propped up on the bed, hips slapping against yours. His hand is pressing down on your neck, holding you in place against the mattress. His heavy balls hit your puffy clit with each thrust and you’re drooling, groans escaping your throat, barely able to open your eyes. His dick feels so good sliding against your gummy walls, reaching your sweet spot. His other hand is swatting your ass, making it as sore at possible, gripping at the flesh, nails digging into your skin. He still has a firm grip on your neck when you cum around his dick for the third time. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you grip onto the sheets, ass still high in the air. He pulls you up by your neck, gripping your jaw to look at him before his sticks two fingers inside your mouth, laying them flat on your tongue. He spits in your mouth, then on your face, mushing it against your lips and cheeks, pushing you back down on the bed again. “You must like pissing me off, right? Being a bitch, all so you can get fucked cause you’re a needy whore. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get what you’ve been wanting so, so bad, but you might not like the way I do it.”

repost from my old account

[slvttyplum]

you were sugurus best eater and no one could compare, you being able to suck his soul out of his body was one of the reasons he decided to make you his partner, which is wrong on his part and is also why he would never tell you that part.

before the both of you made it official, you both would hook up with each other and the way you made his eyes roll back and his toes curl was ungodly, he couldn't even moan one good time before he was cumming in your mouth.

he loved the way your cheeks hollowed out, and your tongue teased the tip while your hands played with his balls. no one ever had a technique when it came to sucking his dick, so it would just be a whole sloppy mess, but the way you did it was different.

the goal you have when sucking his dick was to make him cum as fast as possible, because let's be honest, sucking dick can be exhausting unless you absolutely love it, so having his big dick in your mouth for a long time wasn't the greatest time, but his cum was a great reward.

sugurus mind was blown when your tongue first made contact with the tip of his dick, and all in that same mind sequence his cum was landing in the back of your throat, he couldn't let this go.

everyone else sucked dick like they really didn't want to, the only goal for them was to look hot while doing it, and it only failed. whenever you did it, although you were doing it quickly, you had a technique that worked every time, and you looked sexy all at the same time.

he wanted your mouth latched onto his length every day and every second of the day. the best part is that you didn't know the thoughts that swirled around in his mind, about how he wanted to lock you up and keep you for himself.

when you two weren't together he would get jealous at the thought of you sucking someone up like you did to him, and it made his blood boil, that mouth should be for him and him only and that's exactly what he did.

“who taught you how to do that?” is a passive-aggressive question he would ask you every time he came into your mouth with no delay. who taught this gorgeous person in front of him how to suck dick that good.

once you reassured him that you practiced with yourself and got the technique from yourself, his worries withered away, and his dick grew in size, teaching yourself how to do something so lewd and nasty, it turned him on.

turned him on to have those pretty lips latched around his length and his eyes looking down at yours as they get watery and your throat getting tight as you stuff him down.

everything you did was so effortlessly perfect, he just couldn't get enough.

[freckleslikestars]

something I'll never not find hilarious is that my brother and I really don't look alike: he's got a much darker, olive skintone compared to my pasty white that looks like the time I tried to make gluten free vegan pastry and it, uhhh...it was colourless, we've got different face shapes, different eyes, different noses, different body types, just generally very different in appearance.

But for about a year when I was fourteen and he was twelve, we had the same shoulder-length dark, slightly wavy hair and were about the same height, and at least twice a month people would ask us if we were twins, which I think we both found equal parts hilarious and infuriating.

[earthtooz]

x : LUNCH BREAK :*+ﾟ

in which: you don't visit wriothesley during his lunch break after last night's argument, so he goes to the court of fontaine just to see you.

warnings: approx. 1.9k words, PURE FLUFF, gn!reader x pathetic and soppy and lovesick wriothesley, canon setting, reader works at the court of fontaine, post-argument so very minimal angst, probs not in character LOL

a/n: there's not a lot of content regarding fontaine or wriothesley rn so i apologise if this isn't completely in character. what i do not apologise for, however, is the urge to make him as lovesick as possible.

There is a notable tension in the Fortress of Meropide, and although a prison isn’t a place for rainbows and sunshine, today it feels especially devastating. It seems that the lord of the prison is the one responsible for it.

Brooding at his desk, Wriothesley glances occasionally at the clock on his desk, growing more and more impatient with each document he has to read through. He is waiting for something: a knock on his door. He is waiting for the call of his name, the reason for their interruption, then your name will reach his ears and an unmatched excitement will bloom in his chest. Then you’ll slip through the doors with lunch for two, he’ll pull out a chair for you right beside him, and mask professionalism that betrays the eagerness your presence always brings out. 

Your absence must be because of the argument that happened last night. One that remained unresolved because he went to bed before you, too furious to try to talk it out. Yet, when Wriothesley woke in the morning, a wave of guilt washed over him when you weren’t pressed against him like usual. Instead, you were on the other side of the mattress, further than an arm’s length away whilst turned away from him and Fontaine’s chilly mornings had never felt colder.

If he didn’t need to go to work much earlier than you, he would have waited until you had woken up to leave, but being the lord of the Fortress of Meropide meant that his presence was demanded. So, with a lingering kiss to your cheek and then your temple, he leaves into the dewy mornings of Fontaine, looking forward to his lunch break that the two of you often share together.

Except now, lunch is almost over and there hasn’t been a knock on his door. No one has called his name- not people he cared about, at least. You haven’t slipped through the heavy set of doors. You haven’t come down from the Court of Fontaine to visit him, and Wriothesley’s patience is thinning.

His fingers itch with the need to hold you, to tuck you close to his chest and just keep you there for a few moments as time pass by. Especially after last night, Wriothesley needs you now more than ever. 

By the time there’s only one hour left in the work day, he snaps. Stands up from his seat with an unmatched sense of fervour because of the unnervingly quiet day and snatches his coat from the hanger, leaving documents unread as he makes a beeline for the exit of the prison. The guards listen attentively to Wriothesley’s final commands for the day in his absence and once the information is cemented, the dark-haired is off without another second wasted.

You, on the other hand, sit in your office drowned in piles upon piles of papers. Wriothesley is a passing thought every now and then, the memories of last night’s harsh argument settling like weights in your stomach. You miss Wriothesley, very dearly, and all you want is to settle things with him. However, the image of his furious eyes and clenched jaw terrifies you beyond belief, you’re not even sure if he’ll be calmer by the time you get home, so for the first time ever, you dread the idea of going home. 

What you are completely unaware of, however, is your lover that is storming your way, desperate to receive the medicine that will cure his moodiness and irritation. 

The knock on your door distracts you from the piles of papers on your desk. 

“Who is it?” you call out, voice reverberating around the spaciousness of your office.

“It’s Wriothesley, can I come in?” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for you to reject him, but the mere sound of his voice causes you to stiffen, grip on your pen tightening as the papers before you lay forgotten. 

What is Wriothesley doing here? He normally never comes up to the Court of Fontaine just to see you because leaving the prison would be far too neglectful. There was also half an hour before he was done for the day, so could there be official business that needs to be discussed? Something urgent, perhaps? 

If it was urgent, then why come to you and not Monsieur Neuvillette- or even Lady Furina?

“Yeah- yes, you can come in,” you mutter.

When the door clicks open, Wriothesley practically barges through, door shutting behind him as he marches towards you. Getting up from your chair, you’re frightened with anticipation due to  how intense his stance is. 

“Is something the matter?” You begin, panic seeping into your voice as he pauses before you, determination setting his eyes ablaze as he eyes you down like prey. “Wriothesley, you’re scaring me, did something happen at the prison-”

“Where were you at lunch?” He demands.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you come visit?” 

“Is… is why you came up here? To ask why I didn’t visit you during lunch?”

He nods, expression stern as usual save for a small pout.

“I was swamped with work,” you half-lie, gesturing to the desk behind you and although there is clear evidence on your table through the form of stacked folders and paper, a storm of uncertainty brews in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t visit if I wanted to get these done, I apologise.”

The dark-haired frowns. “Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s all.” His eyebrows furrow, creating crease marks in his forehead that you want to kiss away, alleviating his worries, but you hold yourself back from doing so in fear that Wriothesley does not want you touching him. 

However, a switch is flicked when Wriothesley’s stern expression softens, melting into one resembling a kicked dog. “So you’re not upset with me?” 

“Oh, is that also on your mind?”

“Of course, I don’t like it when you’re upset with me,” your lover mutters, looking away bashfully to conceal the reddening of his cheeks. “You aren’t though, right?”

“No, not upset. Scared, maybe, but definitely not upset.” 

His eyes are glossy when he looks back at you. “Scared, why are you scared?” 

“W-we didn’t end on a good note last night,” you rub your wrist nervously. “I didn’t know if you would be happy with seeing me. On top of that, you can be really intimidating sometimes, so admittedly, I was a little scared to come see you just in case that you did not want me there.”

Wriothesley visually deflates with your last statement, shoulders dropping and eyes glistening as he murmurs a small, pathetic, “is that so?”

He wonders what part about him ever made it seem like he never wants you beside him, and the thought that he had frightened you enough to prevent you visiting him is an upsetting one. You must see it in his eyes with the way you frantically begin to explain yourself. 

“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean it like that-”

He turns his head away again, disappointed in himself. It’s one thing for his prisoners to consider him intimidating but it’s another for you, his own lover, to think so as well, and the thought that he had scared you creates insurmountable shame to swell within him. Yet, his whirlwind of anxieties ceases when your hand goes to cup his cheek, gently prompting him to look at you. Then, a kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips, and his heart skips a beat at the sensation, love blocking his airways when you pull away to smile up at him. 

“As scary as you might be, oh great lord of the Fortress of Meropide, I also know you will never hurt me,” you reassure. “Rather, I feel safest when I’m around you, please never doubt that.”

Wriothesley sighs, hand snaking up to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. “Thank you, my love. But I beg, even if you assume I am upset with you, please keep visiting my office during lunch, it is the part of the day I look forward to most.”

“If that is your request then maybe you just need to be good and listen to me instead of arguing until your head pops off,” you tease, patting his face twice and he huffs before muttering an ‘understood’. Anything to see you. “Is there something else you need from my office?”

“No, just wanted to see you,” he looks at the brown paper bag in his hands. “I brought you lunch, just in case you didn’t eat.” 

“Wriothesley,” you melt, “how thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to eat it when I finish reading those contracts.”

“You should eat now, though. Don’t drown yourself in work, it’s not healthy.”

“I wish it were that easy, but these piles were dumped on my desk this morning and were assigned to be done by the end of the week.”

The hand that was on your waist comes up to gently hover over your cheek and Wriothesley studies you, icy eyes hardening due to the fatigue present in your expression. You grab his wrist, trying to diverge his attention, but you should know better than assuming that your wellbeing isn’t of utmost importance to him. “Unacceptable, I should have a word with your supervisor-”

“-no, no, Wriothesley! I insist, this is manageable.”

He frowns, deep and serious before surrendering to your pleas. “Fine, but if it doesn’t get better by the end of the week, then I will be interfering.”

“If you do so, my supervisor will be too scared to come in for a month,” you squeeze his wrist and gently guide it away from your face, ignorant to how your neglect for your own health hurts Wriothesley as well. He knows you love your job, but he still thinks that you deserve to live life carefree, that you should get everything you want without ever lifting a finger. “It’s alright, dear, you mustn’t worry about me when your work is a thousand times more stressful.”

“Impossible.” He worries about you every second of the day. Telling Wriothesley to stop fretting over you would be like telling him to stop breathing. “Now eat.” 

You yelp when he pulls you towards your chair, sitting you down. From the paper bag, he takes out a sandwich, one that you recognise is from one of fontaine’s favourite cafés, and he carefully unwraps it before raising it to your mouth.

“Wriothesley… this is a little embarrassing,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He doesn’t say anything, just persistently stares at you, gaze intense enough for you to give in. As you lean in to take the first bite, you are bashfully looking away from your lover, who wears a pleased expression, satisfied with the fact that you’re letting him take care of you. 

The tension from last night’s dispute hasn’t completely melted away, there are still things that need to be discussed calmly, but as you keep trying to push his hand away and battle Wriothesley’s indestructible stubbornness, he knows it will work out in the end. You love him and he loves you, and if you ever forget to visit him during lunch break again, then he’ll have to tear himself away from the prison and come up, just to meet you.

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