Trump's Transphobic Executive Orders Regarding Healthcare And Federal Documents Are Currently Unenforceable

König x f!Reader, hurt/comfort but we pretty much skip the hurt part, kinda nsfw but not really, very mild mdlb dynamic

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König lays on top of you, face pressed to your soft chest, tears leaking out of those big, sad eyes you love so much. Mumbled apologies fall from his scarred lips, half in German, half in English. His thick arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close. You shush him gently, carding your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp in the way you know makes him melt.

"It was just a dream, baby," you remind him patiently. His fear is very real, something that haunts him so intensely that it follows him into his sleep. "You didn't hurt me. You would never hurt me, König. You know that, and I know that."

"But I am a beast," König whimpers, shame dripping from every syllable. He tries to hide his face in your breasts, but you don't let him, lightly tugging on the long, red strands in your grasp to pull him back up. He gasps, cock twitching against your leg, but his expression twists with guilt at his body's reaction. "I am a dog."

"No, you're not," you say firmly, but then your voice softens to a coo as you cup his face, the pad of your thumb gently rubbing the scar over his long nose, crooked from being broken one too many times. "You're my baby. Mommy's sweet boy..."

König's watery eyes widen, and he swallows thickly, eyes darting back down to your breasts for just a second before they flicker to the side, pale cheeks reddening. You let go of his face to pull down the neckline of your dress just enough for one of your breasts to spill out. König is still looking away, but his breathing picks up, and his body is rigid with the self control he's exerting to hold himself back.

"Go ahead, darling," you whisper, slowly guiding his head to your breast. The second your nipple brushes against his scarred cheek, he whines, quickly turning his face and latching on. You let out a contented sigh as he begins to suckle, his eyes going half-lidded as the tension and fear gradually leaves him. You can feel his cock hardening against your leg, but you don't offer to help him with it, and he doesn't ask. That's not what this is about, for either of you. Not right now.

You resume your petting as König nurses, murmuring soft praises that make his whole body melt into you. You know how much comfort this brings König, and it's come to do the same for you. You feel so connected to him, in these moments. So honored that he lets himself be this vulnerable with you--and only you. That he trusts you to show you the part of himself that he's kept hidden out of shame his whole life.

You lean down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, feeling warmth bloom in your chest when you notice that his eyes have fallen shut, his breathing evening out as he slips back into sleep. His lips stay wrapped around your nipple, and his nose is smushed against your breast. You smile at him adoringly, overwhelmed with love for your sweet boy. König has seen horrors you can never even dream of, and yet his biggest fear is hurting you.

It's how you know he never will.

LET ME SPEAK MY TRUTH 🦢🫶🏼

sometimes I just want to read a reverse comfort fic about some big burly character absolutely breaking down, call it a saviour kink or whatever but there seems to be an absence in this world

Throwback ⭐️ !!!!

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I did watch Hamilton live here in the Philippines, it was so good…it really did bring me back to 2016 🔥 (I FORGOR to post this on the same day I did on insta- holy crap it's been a while...Life can get rlly busy!1)

do yall think thomas’ boobs jiggle when he laughs

FUUUUCK THAT HITS

The fun thing about COD is that everyone who calls the 141 and every other operator their precious little mew mew skrunkly is fully aware that Soap once used an enemy soldier as a meat shield, Price responded to a barricade by attempting vehicular manslaughter, Gaz saw one terrorist attack and decided going feral was an option that should be on the table, and Ghost is, well, Ghost.

They know their little mew mews are war criminals and they do not care.

TASK FORCE 141

And yet they still claim it's not a Nazi salute...

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do

with music :3