#It's days like these where I just close Discord completely and continue on with my own stuff

[xluckytheninjax]

It's 2:40AM and I can't sleep

So tag ramble time

[python333]

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours. 

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 

“It does.” 

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.” 

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

[delta-pavonis]

Ooh, from the wip game: former mafia hob :D

I know I have posted bits and pieces of this in various places on Tumblr and Discord, but below is probably the largest segment of the WIP I have ever posted at once. And this is maybe about a quarter of it? It features an OC that I made up and then it turned out I was prescient because in my head Sandro looks pretty much exactly like Ethan from Maneskin. Also, to no one's surprise, this gets NSFW at the end. (WHAT?!? SMUT?!?!?! FROM MEEEE?!?!?!)

"And this guy, this Burgess, just had him locked in a giant glass sphere in his basement!"

"A human? Wouldn't he need air?"

Hob was in an ex-pat bar on the south end of Okinawa, doing a very good job of continuing to live completely off the grid just as he had for the past eight years.

The old man started up again and Hob strained to hear him across the length of the bar. "He just looked like a human. I worked there sixteen years and he didn't age a minute, hell he barely moved. I heard Burgess bragging once about how it was the God of Dreams that he caught! All I know for sure is what I heard directly, which is that Burgess kept asking him for things – magic, money, immortality – and the pale fucker just kept glaring at him. Never spoke a word. Just stared daggers with those unearthly blue eyes. I am telling you, if looks could kill, that old bastard would be dead thirty times over. Whenever that fairy King or whatever the fuck that shaved panther of a human-looking thing is gets out…" The guy whistled, leaning back from the bar and shaking his head. "The entire Burgess family tree is going to burn."

This man had Hob’s full attention now. He grabbed his drink and moved around to sit on the barstool next to him. 

"I am sorry, where did you say you are from?" Hob asked, trying for casual, sizing up the ex-military guy. He had a muddled accent, but with a heavy dose of south London. His salt-and-pepper hair had been kept buzzed even though he had clearly been out of the service for a long time. 

"What's it to you?" The man was immediately bristly, crossed his arms over his chest. He was defensive and closed off and Hob was going to need to work to get more information. Hob sighed. Or take the easy way out… just pay him for the information.

The Okinawan summer was too hot for this. Hob would give it one shot, try to explain, but if that didn't work it was Plan E for Easy. "I have an interest in the supernatural. And you certainly seem to have seen something. Could I ask you a few more questions?" The old-timer just stared at him, completely deadpan, unblinking. It made Hob take a sip of his whisky with its melted ice and then press the glass to his temple. "I can pay you for your time."

He perked up immediately after that.

> > > > > | | < < < < <

Two days later – and after an exchange of enough money to set that old-timer’s family up for generational wealth – Hob was settling into his Business Class seat on the long haul from Tokyo Haneda to Rome Fiumicino. He tapped out an email telling Gio his flight to Palermo was going to get in at 08:20 and would he be so kind as to send around a car? He needed to stop and see il Barone first (because his knee was bad enough as it was without getting kneecapped for failing to pay his respects) and then straight to the grotta. And make sure the shovel is in the car? Grazii.

It was his Stranger. It had to be. The description was uncanny. And the quick sketch Hob had drawn on a bar napkin had resulted in a rather emphatic positive identification.

And even if it wasn’t his Stranger, there was something being kept in that basement that probably needed rescue. There were paltry few things in the world, as Hob had learned over the centuries, that deserved to have their freedom completely taken from them.

Almost 22 hours after sending that email to Gio, Hob stepped out into the salty Mediterranean air of Palermo and sighed. His white linen three-piece suit with light blue shirt fit the aesthetic of the region as much as the weather. The smells, the breeze, the sounds – yeah, okay, Hob had missed it. But this was no time to linger. Focus, Hob! First, he had to give his regards to Salvatore and then he could go dig up his stash from his time in the Family Business. He put on his hat and dark sunglasses and walked out into the sunlight.

In the aftermath of 1889 Hob had, unsurprisingly, a lot of anger and frustration to work out. He ended up falling back on a reliable skill set he hadn't tapped in awhile: violence. 

It was bare knuckle boxing first, which earned him enough money to leave for the States without disturbing his securities in the UK. He continued with underground boxing for a bit, because he was fucking good at it, until he got noticed. 

Hob got picked up by Giuseppe “the Clutch Hand” Morello and Ignazio “the Wolf” Lupo and the rest was history. 

First they took him in as a base-level associate, just another meatheaded guy who could fuck people up for them. And he made it to the Castellammarese War, which was as good a time as any to fake his own death. 

But, by pure happenstance and a whole lot of luck, Salvatore D’Aquila caught him in the act, pig's blood everywhere, mutilated body that clearly wasn't Hob at his feet and well. That had required a bit of explaining. Explaining lead to talking, talking lead to negotiating, and suddenly Hob was heading upstate to train with the best.

And so it was, with some excellent mentorship on handling firearms and his innate knack for getting himself out of trouble, Hob became one of the most feared associates in Cosa Nostra. 

In fact, he became The Associate. 

See, he was never going to be a made man; he didn't have the proof of a Sicilian, or even Italian, heritage that he needed to be a ranking Family member. But any capo worth his salt wasn't going to turn away this level of skill and finesse. 

And in return they had kept his secret. Mostly because they knew they had given him the means to kill them all if it was otherwise.

Well, it wasn’t like the entire Family knew. Just Salvatore and his immediate blood relations. Who he needed to stop and say hello to first, then to business.

Once the meeting was done, he headed to the coast. 

When Hob left the Family Business he had literally put all of his gear into an air-tight oak box and buried it. One of the things Hob had learned over the centuries was that, more often than not, symbolism mattered. So it wasn't a surprise to find that when Hob opened the wooden box with a crowbar it was like seeing good friends come back from the dead. His shotgun. His sabre. His pistols. 

He buried these along with his career in Cosa Nostra in 1998. It should have been earlier, but the six or so years after 1989 were a bit of an alcohol and cocaine tinted haze and it took him another three years after getting sober to work on his exit strategy. But once he was out he had abandoned it all and never looked back.

In fact, it was only in the past few months that Hob had let himself pick up a gun again to do some target shooting. Suddenly he was very glad of that coincidence.

After filling his duffle Hob stared down into the empty casket of his former life. He had never, ever expected to be in this position again, most certainly not less than a decade after abandoning it. 

Crouched amongst the sand and the rocks of the beachfront cave, he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and sighed. "The things I do for you, Stranger." He closed the lid. 

"Ti Umbra?" Sandro had been watching Hob silently up until now. Even as a little kid, Alessandro had called the thing that haunted Hob his Shadow. He was an eerily perceptive child, often ostracized from his peers because of it – which of course meant that when Hob had arrived in Sicily in the early 1980s they had become easy friends. Now in his early 30s, Sandro was mostly a driver, but knew his way around a weapon, as any son of a Don should. Hob had hoped he would leave, go to college, get out, but Hob never did convince him to. He was a good kid, he didn't deserve this kind of life. 

"Si." Hob put his hands on his knees and levered himself up. "I think that he needs my help." A sigh as he kept staring at the box. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to me, Bettino." The nickname had come from the diminutive of the diminutive of Roberto, which Sandro’s family knew Hob as. It was an endearment used only between them. "Only He could bring you back to this, to the Family." Hob felt the other man's hand on his shoulder and laid his own over it. The feel of those fingers was achingly familiar. "Let me come with you. You should not go on the rampage you are about to embark on alone, my friend."

Hob picked up Sandro's hand, placed a kiss on the knuckles. "Not a chance. I won't put you in such danger. And I won't let you see me like that." Alessandro hadn’t even been born yet when the Associate was working hardest, in the heydays of Murder, Inc., and all that entailed, when Hob rarely had a night when he wasn’t washing the gunpowder from his hands.

Sandro laughed. "I have seen you every other way, why not this one?" His arms went around Hob's shoulders from behind and he moved his lips to the shell of Hob's ear before dropping into Sicilian. "One more go at it? For old time's sake? Last chance to use me as His stand-in." He laughed even more at Hob's sharp inhale. "You think I didn't know? Oh, Bettino." He nuzzled into the hair at Hob’s nape. "That's how I was able to pretend you really loved me."

"Sandro!" Hob pushed away and whirled around, looking over his former lover’s dark hair and olive-bronze skin, high cheekbones and pouting pink lips, wiry build and black-brown eyes. Not wanting to misspeak, he answered back in English. "I did – and still do – really love you, you know that."

"Yes, but not as you love Him." Sandro shook his head as he moved in to press their foreheads together, arms back around Hob's shoulders. "You would not come back to the Family for me. You would not go to war for me. And that is okay. I know my place. I made my peace with that years ago, when you left." He leaned in to speak against Hob's lips. "But I would ask if you would have me one last time." 

Hob let Sandro pull him to the ground amongst the rocks inside the small cave. Hob's shirt and vest were already discarded, his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. He unbuttoned Sandro's shirt and pulled it down so it caught in his elbows, draped down his back low enough for Hob to run his lips over the huge tattoo of Santa Rusulia – Patron Saint of Palermo, invoked for protection in times of plague – wearing a crown of roses and standing amidst a copse of lilies outside a cave not so different from the one they are currently in, looking out to the sun setting over the sea, that covered his entire back. Hob drew that image, originally charcoal on paper, while they were sitting on the beach watching the sun set on Sandro's 19th birthday in the early ‘90s. He didn't know that Sandro had even saved the picture until a shootout a year later had Hob ripping off the young man’s shirt to stop the bleeding and found the image permanently inked into his skin. 

Sandro knew more about Hob than anyone living. They had spent four years as lovers in the mid-'90s. Hob had gotten sober for Sandro. He had left Cosa Nostra for Sandro, had begged for Sandro to come with him. But he was too scared of his father, Salvatore “the Baron,” to leave. He was worried about the fate of his mother, his sisters. Hob couldn’t begrudge him that. It still stung.

Hob shucked Sandro's pants down his thighs and moved his hand around to his ass, thinking that he would tease him dry before trying to find something slick back in the car. Instead, Hob's fingers found warm, flat silicone. He slumped forward with a moan and his forehead hit between Sandro's shoulder blades. "Oh fuck, Sandro. You have been full with this the entire time?"

"Ready for you, Bettino." He sighed, soft and sweet as candy. He let out a high-pitched cry as Hob slowly pulled the plug out and Christ it was huge Hob would be able to just…

There was a thmpt as the silicone object hit the dense sand a few feet away, flung aside as Hob frantically tried to get his slacks down as quickly as possible. As soon as his cock was free Sandro's hands were reaching back to grab it, lubricant that the horny little weasel must have been carrying in his bloody pocket smeared all over his fingers, readying Hob to just…

Sandro sat back and Hob slid into him to the hilt, all in one stroke, easy as breathing, smooth and perfect. 

They stayed that way for a long moment, readjusting to each other. The first movement was Hob's hands stroking from Sandro's thighs up to his chest then pressing them together. When they started rocking Sandro let his head fall back with a sob. 

"Did you keep your hair long for me, too?" Hob wrapped the waist-length ponytail around his fist and tugged. It made Sandro moan just as sweetly as it had all those years ago. "That's it, sing for me, bell'uccellino." He snapped his hips up and Sandro wailed; he always was such a vocal lover, his pretty bird.

[vitaminseetarot]

Last Quarter Moon PAC: What Are You Harvesting? 🌗🍓🍹

Welcome, one and all, to my last chapter of the four-part moon series! In the beginning, all we had was the seed of potential. We then added some tender love and compost, tending to its stretching stems and budding leaves. We then sat back and witnessed the colorful flower blooming forth, reflecting our work well done.

Now it's finally time to take a look at what will be harvested from this growth. How will it sweeten your life? How will it ensure that more growth can continue to the next month? What blessings will at last be bestowed that will, with careful preservation, last through the winter and beyond?

Take a peek at the three packages of fruit you see down below. These are of the frozen kind so they will last for many smoothies and muffins to come. (Brand names are blotted out for your convenience.)

Pile 1 - Chilly Blueberries Pile 2 - Snowy Strawberries Pile 3 - Frosty Plums

Pile 1

Cards: Four of Swords, Three of Cups, Nine of Cups; Dandelion Wish, Avocado - Prosperity, Scorpio Moon - Camouflage, 6 - Freedom

I guess it works that I called this the Chilly Blueberry pile cause it seems like you're just looking to chill. You've been through the long haul this last month, and for you the growth hasn't come easily. Now you're being greatly encouraged to kick back and relax for the last few days of the season remaining.

You've been spending a great amount of time working on your internal issues. This pile has done some immense shadow work, and perhaps you sense that you're still in the thick of it, laying low and addressing some old fears. These fears may have to do with something you've been wishing and longing for. There's almost a feeling of treating shadow work as a full time job, wanting to purge and clear as much as possible to make room for desires. Which isn't a bad thing! It can be the recommended thing for many people (like one of the other piles, per example wink), but there's also such a thing as overdoing it. Sometimes you get to a place where you've squeezed out every tear cried out and felt the rock bottom of rock bottom, where you're hitting impenetrable bedrock. Pile 1, this is your reminder that you've been doing GREAT work improving yourself, but now it's time to breathe.

You're going to be harvesting peace, relaxation, a chance to decompress and distract yourself with good times. Your friends could be trying to pull you out of the house or into a discord chat -- join them! Don't let yourself get distracted by the heavy emotions at this time. Not all shadow work is productive, like with anything it can be habitual and keep you ruminating in a little loop. You are protected as far as social relations are concerned. You're being given the space to relate your deep inner work with the work others have been doing. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to be in the thick of some deep karmic issues, only to find out a close friend or even acquaintance has been going through a similar ordeal.

Right now, even with all the freaky planet shit happening out there, don't think that the next few months will be like your last few. You're gonna undergo a subtle transformation on your own naturally after this harvest. You'll be moving into a place of wish making and abundance. This may even boost your sense of financial freedom. It could be that some of your shadow work involved money, but I'm really getting abundance in general with this pile. You don't have to overwork yourself to get to that place, pile 1, you're already approaching it. There's no need to get a 100% completion rating on your spiritual practice. You're not being rewarded for hard work, you're being rewarded because you're in the right place and time to be receiving the abundance coming for you. The shadow work is to help you get in a better mindset and receive without letting old baggage get in the way. It's not a forever thing.

Pile 2

Cards: Five of Pentacles, King of Pentacles, Page of Cups; Turtle Creek, Strawberry - Affection, Leo Rising - Shine, 5 - Heart Healing

How awesome is it that you got the strawberry card for your strawberry reading?! Maybe you just really like eating them; the card does talk about affection after all! With Leo Rising, I'm feeling that this pile has been really affected by the Leo Venus retrograde. Lucky for you, the planet will station direct in a few days, gradually bringing back in a feeling of overall sweetness to your life like a tide coming in.

It could have been that your self-worth took a small hit in some way. Some things may have happened that tested you just a little too much. You wanted more out of your circumstances, but when you ask and ask your spirit guides and higher self and nothing seems to happen on the surface at the end of the day, that can really wreck confidence over time. You'd hear things like "maybe it's just not meant for you," to which you'd respond, "then what is?" You're about to gain a lot more clarity as to what is for you, and that no matter what your doubts say, pile 2, you deserve this!

That belief is very important--it keeps you from creating blind spots where opportunities lie. I felt relief pulling the King of Pentacles in the middle. The King does not think at all about what he deserves, he simply has it. He listened to that one random shampoo commercial's message "because you're worth it, baby" and stuck to that philosophy for the rest of his life. He needed this confidence because with Pentacles (and as hinted by your Turtle Creek card), success doesn't happen overnight. Sometimes it can be hard to tell if something is going to work out in the long run. We often have to wave our hair around like supermodels and strut our stuff as though we know it will anyway. (I just got "Good As Hell" by Lizzo in my head. You might benefit from pampering yourself a little to remind yourself of your worthiness.)

There's going to be a moment of inspiration that comes to you this harvest, like an artistic idea or emotional epiphany that will flood through your slow moving creek. Page of Cups doesn't see you as really stuck, but will help push you along either way. Your lack mentality is being restored to a fullness mentality, and with this comes a strong wave of emotional resolution. Letting yourself feel the hurt of lack for just a moment in time can help you clear it out of your system to make room for healthier and better feelings that actually stick. You're allowed to set down your doubts for now and be more vulnerable and open to giving and receiving. It may not seem so, but vulnerability is important to creating flow, and flow is when we sense that we are moving with life and not against it, so that naturally things will work out for us. When you're ready to open your doors to life with softness and tender affection, so will the doors to what you've been dreaming of.

Pile 3

Cards: VII Chariot, Queen of Swords, Ten of Cups; Cottage Hill, Watermelon - Fun, Sagittarius Rising - Adventure, 9 - Self Acceptance

Before I flipped over your cards, I looked at the Cottage Hill card and imagined how cozy you've been for the last while, maybe a season or two where you stayed home and felt comfortable. I even channeled a feeling of enjoying old familiar songs and games. Then I turned the cards around and got the exact opposite message!

Your cards are nudging towards pushing yourself out there and taking in the goodness of life without getting muddled in the details. You've been in a state of analysis (paralysis?) for some time, and the only thing you're harvesting, whether you like it or not, is the chance to go out and enjoy yourself. It doesn't have to involve others, it can be just you looking to try something new (maybe rock climbing isn't in your taste, but there are many other things to explore). Forgive me for saying this, but we all know what dried plums are: prunes. And what do prunes help with? Of course, getting things going! The Chariot isn't always a card of traveling, but you are specifically having your travel experiences sweetened this time around. A dash of spontaneity and whimsy has been added to your harvest. There is stuff out there waiting for you to see it and experience it for yourself.

Please don't think that this time to run around and enjoy yourself is a waste of time, pile 3. Do you know how hard it is to want to move ahead when you have 6-8 planets in retrograde? Cut yourself a bit of slack. Being a successful human being doesn't mean never allowing yourself to feel content with the present, especially since for many people being successful means exactly that. You also never know what these greater experiences could bring you in the long run. A good time spent away can be like a shower that prepares you for the next big thing to tackle. It could be hiding blessings in between, waiting for you to seize them.

The Queen is Swords approaches everything with discernment, so you can work with her energy by finding out what sort of thing you would like to do or see next. It doesn't mean planning every single thing out. The best itineraries keep you from getting lost from point A to point B, while also leaving room for exploration. Maybe you'd be interested in joining a computer programming class, for example. It doesn't mean you have to sign up for the full major. Taking things a step at a time can really help you determine what's better for you further down the road. Self-Acceptance card talks about how to deal with our tendency to self-contradict. There's a part of you what wants to move ahead, and part of you that wants to stay put in the comfort zone. Plan out your "itinerary" so you're not caught in black-and-white thinking. If you're feeling the resistance to move, just try it a little at a time. You'll have a lot more fun this way.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[snake-and-mouse]

Regarding the issues surrounding the Kindergarten Mafia discord server, a large fandom server mostly dedicated to the kinnporsche fandom. It is an issue that encompasses multiple events and many other people have been hurt who I do not want to speak for, so this will not be the full picture, just a part of my part. If anyone reads this and has questions, they can reach out to me.

I am Will/Logan, also known as Sweet-William in fanfic circles, and I am not making this post because I have a vendetta, or to be malicious, as some of my previous actions have been called by the moderators of the server. I am making it because I have the right to speak on my experiences (as others I hope will speak up and share theirs, now that they know they are not alone), and because I want to warn people so what happened to me does not happen to them.

I am also making this post because @accal1a aka Hann the admin of the server has refused to delete content created by myself and many of my friends from the server, all of who left because they like me felt unsafe. The original request was sent by proxy as Hann has me blocked, and though they said they would unblock me so we could discuss it, they never did. As a writer I take it seriously when my work, and also details of my personal life, are taken. When I even offered to go through and delete it all myself if temporarily given access to the server, my messages were completely ignored.

The server is not a safe place for people of colour. It is not a place safe from racism, or xenophobia, and its leadership has historically been and continues to this day, to perpetuate racism in fandom spaces and shelter people who have hurt others with no real repercussions, accountability, or transparency.

The original issue was the result of this conversation between myself and Rachael, one of the moderators. I earlier stepped into a conversation where several microaggressions occurred regarding native american culture. As a Native, it was my right to speak up.

After this conversation I was urged to bring the issue directly to Hann, and from there the issues spiralled out of control. Hann originally was very supportive, and we became what I thought to be close friends. They made many reassurances Rachael would be held accountable, and changes would be made to the server to make it a safer place for pocs.

Rachael was never actually held accountable. Even when it came to light she had messaged me to issue the warning while lying to the rest of the mod team that she had "checked in on me" to see if I was alright after the incident. This was not the only time she secretly issued warnings to people, usually to defend her friends.

She was "demoted" but in actuality, the entire mod team was restructured and she simply was not on the top rung. Over the next two months many things happened, most of which are not my story to tell, and then it came to light Rachael had even further lied and never issued any warning or otherwise spoke to the person originally being racist in a mod capacity, this person being her friend, and refused to show what messages she did actially send.

To avoid any punishment she tried to "step down" as a mod before a choice could be made. And this was allowed. She was allowed to step down and continue to be in the server with no one knowing the actual story or that she couldn't be trusted and had abused her position.

After an incredibly vague statement was posted by the mod team regarding Rachael no longer being a mod, I broke and posted the conversation publicly and laid out the actual events. This was met with an overwhelming negative backlash, where it became clear to me this was a community where I was not safe, and any poc speaking up and calling for accountability would be seen as malicious and rocking the boat unnecessarily, while the moderators just watched on in silence.

The few moderators who were advocating for the poc server members were promptly fired, and though at one point a timeline vaguely outlining the events was posted, it and all evidence of what happened to me has since been deleted. And while Rachael originally left saying I was obviously trying to run her off the server, she has already returned at the urging of Hann.

Protecting people of colour and standing up to racism and xenophobia was never a priority in the kingergarten mafia server. And now that Hann has escalated to stealing work from people of colour that they have absolutely no right to, I am speaking up.

Respect us, be an ally, or face the consequences of what your community looks like with us gone.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

okay. i'm the anon with the normal story that ended up getting to an "i don't care i'm not the asshole" because of the other person turning out to be part of an odd otherkin cult but it genuinely doesn't matter. am i the asshole for killing off a player's character after they said they would leave the game if their character died? this happened a few years ago (2019-2020).

i (19NB) was the DM for a d&d game. i had made a friend who we'll call Max (20F) at college who liked d&d, and i had wanted to run a game for my friends of several years, so i wanted to invite her. Max got along pretty well with my friends during D&D for the most part, but there were some slight disagreements, but regardless, Max and my friends of several years did not talk much outside of D&D and scheduling D&D, and I wasn't going to force them to.

Covid starts, so we all sort of switch to discord and continue playing because the easiest place for us to play at (local library) is closed. One session, we have to end early because Max and another player started fighting about a rule, and wouldn't give me (as the DM) the space to come up with a compromise. Another session, we had an issue where she (after being given the floor to describe a kill she made) got way more graphic than any of us were expecting. I quickly wrapped up the session after and had to let Max know that she had went too far in her description. I spoke to everyone outside of Max after these occasions, and they had all admitted they were very uncomfortable with her behavior, but were willing to keep playing with her if she stopped. So, we play a few more sessions. After we started a boss fight and her character had taken a good bit of damage due to some unlucky rolls, she made a comment to me that was along the lines of "if [x] dies i think i'm just gonna step out of the game"

I had my out, and by the end of the boss fight (about 2 sessions[they were short]), I killed her character. Obviously, I made it seem like it was just a really unlucky day by fudging some rolls, but whatever.

But she changes her mind and doesn't leave the game, and rolls up a new character. She had no further major issues with anyone after her first character died.

The game finishes mid 2020, and before it ended, Max revealed she'd be moving by fall, so I would also never have to see her again in real life if I cut her off right as the game ended. Once it did, I acted as if my friends had just come clean to me about being uncomfortable with her behavior and I no longer wanted to speak to her because of it.

That's the AITA of it.

Anyway, early this year, after all of us have basically forgotten about this, I get an anonymous DM on twitter. It's a page run by Max actively detailing a spiritual cult that her and one of her friends and their boyfriend ran. They detailed several gods they worshiped, some of which were just characters I knew she or her friends liked, some were the more traditional witch gods and they spoke of a spiritual prison or something where her D&D character was now trapped in after I had cut her off. I look into it further. I found a tumblr blog of people claiming (with screenshots, photos, and videos) that Max financially, emotionally, and psychologically abused them. Anyway, does this addition change anything?

What are these acronyms?

[lookinghalfacorpse]

For doomsday trio prompts- dream passing out in weird places. He hasn’t slept in two days, and could go for more, really, but it’s really warm and feels safer than anything has for a long time.

combining this with @3nderm1te's prompt shared via discord where dream gets this treatment from philza. related somewhat to this drabble.

--------------

Techno didn't snitch when Dream fell asleep for a few minutes by the fireplace. Philza had some errands to run before they could head off to the nether, and although Dream's face was covered (as always), his head lulled softly against the cushion of his chair while they sat waiting. It was early in the morning, and Dream just traveled from who-knows-where to get to the cabin, and young men get tired sometimes. Techno raised an eyebrow, but he just turned his attention back to his book, and he didn't snitch.

Techno also didn't snitch when Dream fell asleep by the enchantment table. Dream's knee-guards were missing Thorns, which bothered Techno very much, and while he was working to fix the problem he saw the same gentle, fast fall into sleep as before. When the job was completed, he said, "There we go," at his normal volume, and Dream sprung awake and continued as though nothing happened. Techno turned his head to hide his smirk, and he didn't snitch.

This time, Dream fell asleep while sitting cross-legged on the ground with his back leaning against Steve.

There was very little left to do. It was the night before the battle, and they just completed one final inventory of all the items they needed. Phil and Techno broke into a brief conversation of which dogs were fit for fighting and which should be left behind, and sometime during that conversation, Dream drifted off. Techno barely blamed him-- only the fireplace lit the space, the conversation was quite warm, and Steve is quite comfortable. With his face obscured, he looked like he was simply lounging against the polar bear.

"Unless-- Dream, do you want any dogs up on the grid with you?" Phil said, "Might be nice to have some extra eyes up there."

There was no answer, of course. Techno kept his mouth shut, determined not to snitch.

"Dream," Philza tried. As soon as it didn't work, he continued, "Oh my god, he's asleep, isn't he?"

"Yup," Techno snitched. "Has been for a few minutes."

"Christ, I swear-- Alright, alright." Phil knelt in front of their slumbering guest. "Dream."

That one worked. Dream woke with a jump, quickly composing himself. Techno imagined an expression of shocked embarrassment behind the mask.

"That's it," Phil said, "You're going to bed."

"You're right, you're-- " Dream stammered, "You're right. I should probably head out--" He turned towards the direction of the kitchen, where he normally kept his stuff.

"No, look at me, look at me. Look at me." When the white porcelain of Dream's mask turned fully at Philza, Phil said, "You're sleeping in the guest room. Don't argue with me this time. It's the night before the battle, you need all the rest you can get, and we can start earlier if we aren't waiting for you in the morning. You'll be safer here, anyway."

Dream stared silently at him for a moment. Behind the mask, his eyes darted to Techno, who was watching with non-judgmental indifference.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

-------------

Dream closed the guest room door behind him. It was a quaint little space; the mattress was quite large and comfortable, and sported a quilt. A few aged painting decorated the wall, though they were hard to see by candlelight. The window faced in the direction of Techno's cabin, and he pulled the blinds over it.

He dropped his hood from his head. He unclipped his mask and set it on the nightstand. He has never felt so vulnerable and exposed within four walls. He has never felt so safe.

[tavvattales]

I know you already have one request from me but I'm being clingy XD Can I request Pantalone, Capitano, and Cyno (separate) with an SO that has abandonment issues/ hates when they have to leave? She doesn't stop them of course, she knows they have their jobs to do. They know their partner hates it, so they always try to hurry back when their missions are done. She just gets really anxious and worries that they won't come back and that she'll be left alone again. I've been dealing with a lot of anxiety related to being alone and I just really want the comfort of knowing that they'll come home.

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x Fem!Reader Headcanons

Characters: Pantalone, Capitano, Cyno(separate)

Pairings: Pantalone x Fem!Reader, Capitano x Fem!Reader, Cyno x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Reader has separation anxiety.

Taglist: @stygianoir @kurobakachan @hikomisan @silverwritesthings @minty-stays-tired @genshinparty

If you like what you read, come and check out my Discord!

Click below for more~

Pantalone

"Princess, I'll be home soon, don't you fret,"

Pantalone says affectionately, kissing your temple, and pulling away he tugs you closer to him in a warm embrace. Nuzzling into his chest you can't help but cry, "I know my, darling. I know..." he murmurs against the top of your head.

Wiping your tears away, you look up at him with apprehensiveness and he simply smiles at you, washing your worries away, "There won't be a day where I won't think about you," Pantalone says softly, "Be well, Princess."

Watching him leave your body trembles and before he's completely out of sight you run toward him with all your might, hugging him from behind one last time.

"Come back to me safely."

"I always will..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Il Capitano

Fighting back the urge to cry you tug onto his cloak as he's about to leave. Turning around to face you Capitano gently grasps your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace, taking in your very essence, giving him the strength to continue on his mission.

"My sweet Dove, it pains me to see you cry; I promise to return to you, so please..don't cry."

He says sweetly, wiping the tears you were fighting away. Snuggling in close to his warmth, you let out a shaky sigh, "I know you will...it's just painful to see you go," you say, sniffling, trying to calm your beating heart.

Capitano is the first to let go as you linger on him for a few more moments. Finally breaking away, you stand on your tiptoes, kissing his helmet as he chuckles, briefly lifting his helmet to seal his lips against yours.

"Promise you'll come back in one piece..."

"Anything for you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cyno

"Will you miss me that much?"

Cyno says with a playful smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth and you nod in response, sniffling, "Of course I will...your missions can be dangerous! What if something happens to you?!" you retort, grabbing hold of of his hand.

Chuckling softly, he pulls you into a hug, "You really think I'll let that happen? Come now, little vixen," he murmurs gruffly, stroking the top of your head affectionately as you burst into tears, "I-I know...it's just..." you start, but he cuts you off, lifting you chin to study your expression, "You're cute when you cry," Cyno says, smiling before giving you a quick kiss.

Pulling away from him you pout, "Don't be so mean. I really am going to miss you," you say, downcast. And brushing a strand of your hair to the side Cyno cusps your cheek affectionately, "I know you will, and I'll miss you just as much."

"Just...come back soon, okay?"

"With me, I always will."

[cashandprizes]

Top 5 Redacted Quotes (BA Edition)

My darling @gingerbreadmonsters tagged me so lovingly <3 And I initially was like "oh I don't know what my favorites are" until I decided I realized no one can stop me from doing my favorite moments in BAs that had me keyboard smashing (usually at Lexi) at all hours of the day.

So, without further ado, quotes from Redacted BAs that have made me so furiously feral I black them out of my memory to function.

Tagging some of my discord buddies <3 no pressure!!! @calicostorms @bratty-telepath @bicyclepainting @horrorscoupes @angelnoodlesoup @just-call-me-angel

NSFW/NSFT under the cut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Starting off with my Number 1, which is the shortest but somehow most powerful of all:

Sam BA "You fixin' to bounce on this cock?" Stop. Stop everything. I about DIED. I have text receipts of me texting Lexi furiously screaming about this whole audio BUT THIS LINE? There is no salvation, only damnation and I run to it.

Number 2, a very close race:

David Hot Boi Winter/Proposal BA "Because every thread in my body is screaming for you, to have you. I wanna dig my teeth into your skin. I wanna fuck you into this bed so hard that the frame breaks underneath us, and then fuck you into the floor even harder." LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK. OH MY GOD??? LET ME LIVE??? This audio was made specifically for bitches with their monsterfucker license who love possessive feral primal play (it's me I'm bitches). I had to relisten to this because I completely blacked out listening to it the first time because I was so feral and relistening was... words cannot describe. Help.

Number 3, the audio that birthed my url:

Milo BA illegal that it is the only one "Yeah? You want me to use this mouth of yours? Whose mouth is this? Good. [...] Kiss it first. Just kisses. Yeah, he's happy to see you." Milo Greer WHAT THE FUCK. I was only going to use the "yeah he's happy to see you" because that line is the kind of hilarious deviant shit I like, bUT WHOSE MOUTH IS THIS? Sir. I was minding my black business how could you do me like this?

Number 4, probably one of my all time fave audios

HuxDami Confession BA Can I just... "[Insert SS tier nefarious neck ultra high-quality throat goat noises]" "I'm made of tough stuff too Hux... and I like it rough. I'll tell you if it's too much. [...] Now show me what that body of yours can do, big guy." "Bet." "More." "Oh fuck. Oh god. Alright, you want more? I can give you more baby." This audio is so revolutionary I couldn't pick one quote. As a Damien kinnie who has gotten at least two five star Yelp reviews for my head game, real recognizes real. That was some the rent is due tomorrow vortex neck and like... I can't even describe how much I love this audio. The "bet"? ofaoiefoss. "More" was the moment where I said "oh god is this ME?" Damien Throat Goat Hours <3

Number 5, straight from the boy Lexi used as a WEAPON to drag me into this fandom:

Lasko Hot Boi Winter BA “I’m thinking really, really hard. I’m definitely not just, um, not, not just, a fucking puddle of precum, and very almost actual real cum.” “I’m a good boy. Good boys hold it in. Good boys hold it in.” Lexi knew that if they dangled a subby, flustered nerdy boy in front of my face I would be helpless and goddammit I am. I blacked out and wrote like 2k words of smut continuing the sextember audio just to make him cry. THIS? It was so funny and cute and just so.... sfsofspojfswe hot omg Lasko is just so whiny and whimpery that I become so fucking feral...

Honorable mentions!

Sextember Lasko BA - "I’m not gonna have a brain by the end of this! I’m just gonna be some drooling, crying, humping mess pulling you around like I’m in heat or something. No that’s not hot, that’s cruel! What do you mean that’s what makes it hot?!" Lasko Hot Boi Winter BA - "you're evil, you're so fucking evil, it's okay! It's okay!" Sam BA - "You wanna ride your cow- You little… Get over here. I oughta whoop your ass for that one, you menace."

I think I might do another one of these but JUST for meme quotes because I need to do my url so badly. It's maybe the funniest thing Milo has ever said.

[brideofdiscord-rewritten]

Bride of Discord chapter 12: The Story

"Discord, may I ask you something?"

The draconequus had just finished showing Fluttershy his water skiing tricks and was drying off. His feathers clumped up and he looked as if he were one of those dogs, the ones that leave a film on the hoof when pet. Fluttershy loved how happy and prideful he looked when he wanted to show her a trick, like the previously mentioned playful puppy.

"Anything, of course!" he said over his shoulder.

She looked down at the blanket she was sitting on. "Well…I've been here since late summer, and now it's winter, so... and…"

He made his towel disappear and teleported to her side. "Yes? It's been a pretty confusing series of time. I had no idea how much time had passed since you got here!"

"Well…there's something that's been on my mind and…"

She felt him scoot closer and rest his hands on his... whatever's. What were they, if not hooves? Claw and paw? "Go on?"

"I…I just want to know…"

A ray of hope appeared on Discord's face. Was she finally going to say it? But she said it was a question. Still, was this it?!

She looked up at him. "Where did you come from?"

His expression fell. "Oh…see here, when two ponies are in love- you ever heard of spores? Well-"

"Dear no,that's not what I meant! I meant what was your life like before... uhm, y'know, turning into stone." She quivered. She didn't want to think about how that felt.

He sighed. A great weight rested on his every fur, every fibre. " I'll tell you now, it's not very cheery, but if you look at it like a book or painting, then it's kinda beautiful."

Fluttershy lay on her belly. "I'm curious, about what art is to you."

Discord smiled and took a breath. "I like to think that art is seeing the beauty in the ugly and the ridiculous in the aesthetic. Like looking out the window at an ugly forest. If it was a painting, the elements would make it meaningful."

She shifted her weight. She was getting him comfy, and that's what mattered.

"if my life was a biography,I'm sure the paintings and music it would inspire would be beautiful. Perhaps even architecture. Im particularly fond of maximalism, ecobrutalism, cubist works... you get the point. I like to romanticize things. Back to the story!"

She smiled warmly at him, brushing the weight from his follicles with a gentle hoof. He still needed to know where she gets her iron shoes fitted

"well, I'm rather famously one of a kind. I like to think of it as a blessing, no younger brothers or culture to feel like I'm disappointing! I think I just appeared one day, in a big star, surrounded by bigger stars. I remember a quaint little Stone house I'd take apart and put together again. That was how I honed my craft, magic! Chaos! In the middle of space!"

He scratched his hand.

"it does get rather lonely. I have no idea what the concept of age is, or how old I was. I didn't know there were others until I met an owl. It's first reaction was to screech and fly off. So I had no idea what interactions were. The only thing I knew was remodeling a single building, with no idea what it was or why it existed. I found out by wandering around that I was in a dimension between dimensions. I was intertwined between the multiverse."

Fluttershy looked at him like he was... well somehow less normal than he is. He looked down at her and giggled. "See? Weird painting."

He made another pause before continuing. "I'll spare you the details. Let's just say that it didn't take long for me to realize that I was different from most creatures. I came to equestria by complete accident, by my magic bursting while I was practicing. in the middle of the forest, where I met the aforementioned owl. The forest turned black and spikey, and I heard before that it was regular. I corrupted it. I knew then that I wasn't meant to be interacted with. I was a complete anomaly, and should never have existed. Yet, I learned every day for something to accept me."

He felt corny. Fluttershy snuggled close to him. Gosh, that must have been jarring. No concept of anything and then constant yearning. It made her want to cry.

"Then I found Equestria and you ponies, and…well, let's just say they didn't take kindly to my appearance either. I eventually gave up trying to fit in and focused on my magic, making myself at home in a cave in the mountains."

"Was it that cave you took me from?" Fluttershy interjected.

"Yes, in fact. You know Celestia has stopped by there several times to see if I was hiding there? I made myself invisible whenever she came. She found me there, when her mane looked like yours. She saw me practicing my magic and might I add, she was quite impressed with it. She said I should use my talents for good, for her court! Well…" he twiddled his fingers, "she wasn't very specific on her definition of 'good.'"

He gave a small laugh. "My magic wasn't made for pony ideals! It was just wacky! I guess I got in over my horns. I had packed houses every day! Just hours and hours of ponies adoring me, giving me what I wanted, what my magic was made for! Lights! Attention! Laughs! I guess she didn't really like how little i cared about actual court matters. Wasn't my fault!"

Fluttershy Stared intensely at his manners, the lordliness of it all.

"I wished more than ever to date this alicorn. She always pestered me about her day and I just heard her, and didn't listen. I just dreamt about her being my... housewife. I KNOW!" Fluttershy cringed and laughed.

"I asked her out once and... it was over. She couldn't see me anymore. Granted, her sister was locking herself away and becoming... less than favourably hostile, and her kingdom was constantly yelling at her. But I asked anyways. She told me that I only liked her because she was the first pony who was ever kind, and she didn't owe me anything."

Fluttershy sat up. "What did she mean?"

" gosh, it's so stupid. I used to think that since I was nice to her she owed me her hand in marriage! Can you imagine? I didn't care about her princess struggles or her look to the kingdom of she married, I just wanted a wife. Everypony else had that one pony who loved them no matter what, and I thought I was entitled to one!"

Fluttershy spoke up. She puffed up her chest, tried to hold it in, and laughed. "Oh dearie, at least you're past that!" She looked almost pleadingly at him with a warm smile. He nodded.

"well I blew up on her, and she cast me out, telling me to go find a place that accepts my magic and all my demands, but somewhere else. I felt rejected again, and... tried to takeover. Thank Celestia she- wait, what? That's so weird. Anyways, she turned me into stone."

It felt crushing to hear himself thank the pony he harassed into hating him for thwarting the plan that was still in motion.

"Did it hurt? The stone, I mean."

"woof! Lemme tell ya, I've never had a better sleep in my life! It's like all the benefits of sleep, and a good stretch. Never felt a thing."

Discord looked down at her. "But yeah. I got pretty messed up being alone. Not anymore, now that you're here."

He used his tail to bring her closer, making Fluttershy blush. She put a hoof over her muzzle and grinned gently.

"you don't think... of me like that Celestia thing, do you?"

He felt like he was going to heave. He did. One hundred percent. He Never made an attempt to this point to even think about it, but he knew it.

"I've been trying so hard not to think about it, and when I see you, my best-first friend, I can't help but cringe when I remember it. I Can't imagine being in that deep of whatever that was!"

He trailed off and stared into space.

"I suppose I should tell you about me?"

"wouldn't object to it, if you really want to tell me."

"You see…" She glanced down at her hooves. "I was very shy as a filly and could barely fly. All the other ponies laughed at me. It didn't help that I believed them. These boys, they were the only ones I swear loved me."

He choked. "They laughed at you?! You didn't do anything wrong!"

She giggled. "Don't do that. It was a long time ago. Anyway, I know what it's like to be…different. Alone. They treated me like I was too much when I was happy, like I was a disease." She whimpered, and shook it away.

Fluttershy squeaked as he threw his arms around her. "We can't make each other sick, can we! Sickness buddies!!"

She gently tried to push him away. "Discord, please…"

"Did you not hear me, darling? I'm saying you're perfect! And you make me feel less alone! We're peas in a pod!"

"dis-"

"Which reminds me! Do you love me? Better get it out of the way now!"

A wall burst

"I can't! I can't just love you now! You don't know me!"

He floundered into a deflated dunce.

"That's really flattering and all, but…those colts didn't like me. They liked my looks. They never hung out with me after school because they didn't want to have to hear me. They didn't want to listen. Everybody in the world could love you... but nobody really likes you. And I feel like that every time you compliment me, I can't help it. They beat me down just like anyone else, but we're embarrassed to be around anyone else when they said they liked my face."

He felt like a sludge of trash for what he thought. For trying to convince her with a stupid little sob story and a dumb little question.

"I just know it in you you aren't like that anymore, but I just wish you'd let yourself fully heal before you try to marry me. Even if we're just married friends. I wish I could heal first."

True or not, Fluttershy knew he was lonely and that he seemed to care for her, but she could not do it. She might as well be saying 'I do' at the altar. She was not ready.

"Are you alright?"

...

She was so honest with what she wanted. She was so shy and retracted, so outspoken through years of tears.

...

"I think I'm gonna start exploring those thoughts. I think I want to be nature, y'know? I want to be a part of the life here, a little animal. I don't wanna tell myself I'm different until it's true."

She looked at him like he was a roaring river, like he was a gentle spider web. It fascinated her. After everything, he was there.

"Maybe one day we'll get married. one day. but right now, I want to stay as your friend more than anything."

"Be patient, Discord. You've at least gotten somewhere with that pony. She'll say yes eventually. You just need to up your approach. She admitted it herself!"

He smashed the glass. It made him sick. How callously it ignored every word she ever said. At least pretend like you were trying! At least pretend like you're not thinking like that, like you detest it! I'm sure I dont actually hate it, I was right back then... I know it. I think.

He hates that he was unsure. He hates that he knows it was horrible, how he treated Celestia and how he still thinks that way. He hates that he didn't think that way. He hates that Fluttershy tore his plan apart with pony morals.

Across the dinner table, now less quiet, to simple pain.

"why are you making me better?"

She shrunk under his gaze.

"I think you'll be happier when you know you love yourself. And you'll find its easier to make friends that way."

He hoped he didn't come off as how he used to act.

"Well, glad to have you then! I don't want you to feel like you're forced to lo-"

"YOU DONT HAVE ME!"

His face fell as she snapped at him. Fluttershy then took a breath and moved towards the window.

"I understand you don't want me to leave and that we had a deal, but... You've tried so hard to make me happy, but you still deny me the one thing I want." She glanced out as some of her birds tried to fly into the forest but were stopped by the force field.

"Well, you've denied me the one thing I want, and what I want is…"

His frustration melted away when he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. He cautiously stepped toward her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to …"

He lightly hovered his claw over her, almost asking, only to have her pull away.

"Fluttershy…"

She faced him. "I want to let them go."

He blinked. "What?"

Fluttershy glanced back at the animals outside. "It would be selfish of me to keep them here. They're not here because they need me. I thought they did, but…I just wanted them here for myself."

Discord put his claw on her shoulder. "That's why I brought them here. For you."

"And now I want you to send them back."

"But…don't they make you happy?"

"Look at them." She pointed at the birds pecking at the invisible wall. "They don't want to stay here. That's why you have to send them back. And besides this... in sorry, but I want you to help yourself too. I can't always help you, because we're too similar."

He stared at her for a while, wiping away her tears. "I understand. I know you can't always help me, but I'm glad you're real with me. I guess I'd like to have more friends, not just you. But... you sure this is what you want?"

She looked up at him and nodded.

She knew he knew she never owed him a thing, and smiled as he let them go. He simply hugged her hard and sat and talked throughout the meal. They talked and laughed and he never asked for a thing. The birds sang louder than they did when they were trapped. He probably didn't even know it, but he climbed the stairs once more and they felt one step lower.

[xoxiu]

my house of stone, your ivy grows - yoongi x reader

chapter seventeen table of contents masterlist join the taglist discord

summary: yoongi carried himself with a sense of pride within himself and his belongings. he worked hard to get to where he was- ethically or not, it made him the man he is today. his latest toy, a young college girl from america, will become his magnum opus. he just needs to work out the kinks.

tags/warnings: mafia au, kidnapping, daddy dom!yoongi, smut, autistic!reader, spanking, stockholm syndrome, little!jimin, vminhope, drug mention, namjin, fluff, domestic discipline

taglist: @allamericanuniverse @llallaaa, @frieschan

The living room had been magically transformed into a large pillow fort by noon. Extra white bedsheets hung from the backs of chairs and couches, enclosing the homemade blanket nest on the floor. To make things even more magical, Seokjin added string lights to the mix, which twinkled brightly once the curtains were closed. Inside the fort sat Jimin, Kiwo, Jungkook, and Taehyung, all four eating their lunch while watching Doraemon. 

It had been a chaotic morning- Kiwo and Jimin were purposely bothering and annoying each other, as well as the others with their near-constant whining and crying. Once 11 am hit, everyone agreed that the two littles would need a nap to survive the rest of the day. 

The pillow fort, however, had been Taehyung’s idea.

“Okay, it’s nap time now.” Hoseok entered the fort to retrieve the empty dishes, smiling at the sight of the youngest four curled up in their pile of blankets. Jimin and Kiwo lay the furthest apart, with Jungkook right next to Kiwo and Taehyung next to Jimin. Taehyung and Jimin were already fast asleep, and Kiwo could barely keep her eyes open, only motivated to stay awake by the cartoon. 

“Kookie, are you taking a nap too?” Hoseok chuckled slightly- Jungkook rarely ever did things with the littles, but would always oblige the two in their activities. 

“No, I’m going to get up after this episode.”

”Okay. Just turn the channel after so Kiwo will fall asleep.”

A small groan came from Kiwo at the mention of turning off her show. She wasn’t even tired, she thought, fighting to keep her eyes open. 

Keeping to his word, Jungkook moved to leave the pillow fort once the credits began to roll. He reached onto the couch for the remote and changed the channel. 

The news showed a scene from a river excavation- a body had been discovered in the Han River. Jungkook watched silently as more details were revealed. 

“The body is beyond unrecognizable, but with the belongings and clothes it was found with police believe the body to belong to missing college student Kiwo Louise-”

Jungkook looked over at Kiwo, completely alive and well, and currently asleep. 

“Kiwo,” Jungkook shook the girl gently. She hummed in response, her eyes still closed but still listening. 

“I was just curious about something…” Jungkook started, unsure of where to begin. He took a moment before continuing. “Do you… like it here?”

”Mm. ‘m used to it.” Kiwo mumbled out, not entirely conscious and aware of the question.

Jungkook thought about what she said for a moment. Kiwo being used to the situation is not the same thing as her liking it. They had simply just grown on her. 

“Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah…” Kiwo had no hesitation in her voice as she quickly responded. She muttered something else after, but Jungkook couldn’t exactly comprehend what she had said. He was too taken aback by the sudden pit in his stomach. 

Kiwo wanted to leave. She didn’t want to be there. And in Jungkook’s mind, it was all his fault. He was the reason why Kiwo’s world had completely changed, and the reason why she is suffering. She had family and friends back in America, who now all believe she had died while abroad. Jungkook had facilitated that, too. 

Finding another American girl that looked like Kiwo was easy- so was taking out her teeth and burning her fingerprints. The Han River’s waters had decomposed her body to hell, eliminating any defining features the other girl had. Throwing Kiwo’s belongings in with the body was the only identifying evidence. 

Jungkook stood up and turned off the television. 

[mikalara-dracula]

Hello, sorry for asking again but I really loved your post and thanks for making it. 💕 So this time can we get Reiji, Ruki, and Azusa's thoughts when they saw their s/o for the first time?

💕 Their thoughts when they saw their s/o for the first time—

(ft. Ruki, Carla, Shin, Reiji, and Azusa)

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor and aren't comfortable with slight NSFW. This is a fictional work and should not be taken seriously.

Caution: Unfortunately, Tumblr has a history of admins quarreling over completing carbon copy asks due to users sending the same request(s) to multiple admins, thus, resulting in unintentional plagiarism. With this, please DO NOT send the same request to multiple blogs as it can cause unintended plagiarism discord to other blogs across Tumblr. The word “plagiarism” stems from the early 17th-century Latin word, “plagiarius,” meaning “kidnapper.” So please, do not send in the same request to multiple blogs and make admins appear to be “kidnapping” other people’s work when it isn’t their intention. If this is to occur with any of my posts, please contact me so we can work something out.

Hi there, @just-looking-at-stars + Anons!

Thank you all so much for requesting! Oh my goodness, it looks like all of you requested the same thing practically lol. I figured I'd include it all in one post since it's the same scenario. Thank you so much for requesting. Feel free to request again any time. :)

Ruki:

Oooh vampire Christian Grey activated.

And you’re his Anastasia Steele xDD Jk.

When Ruki saw you for the first time, he was taken back.

And I mean REALLY taken back, and it was honestly so bad that his mind went blank.

He was getting some books out of his locker for next period, his brothers standing by as they hung out for the few minutes they had left to spare, but that was until he saw you walk by.

The way your hair style framed around your face, your fingers delicatly tucking a small strand of hair behind your ear, the small strut you gave while walking—it was all enough to keep him entranced.

Yuma noticed the crane of Ruki’s neck in your direction as you continued to walk on, a smirk on his face as he took in the situation. “Heh, sounds like someone’s interested.”

“Woah, she’s quite the looker. Hey Ruki, you should give it a shot.” Kou would comment, Azusa standing side him watching what was happening.

Ruki snapped out of his trance due to his pride, finding this moment foolish.

“Don’t be silly. There’s much more important matters to attend to.” He’d say, closing his locker and heading off to class.

And to his surprise, he found out you were actually in his next class since you were new at Ryoutei High.

He couldn’t help but sneak stares at you during class. You took notice, but played sly considering you didn’t know him, plus, you were in the middle of class and didn’t want anyone else to notice anything.

You were new, so the last thing you wanted was drama of any sort.

And with you glancing back and playing along with his stares, it only riled him up more to get to know you because your mysteriousness was driving him mad.

“Hm, seems you’re the playing type . . . alright, I’ll play your little game.” He’d think, slightly smirking to himself as he eyed you.

Reiji:

The day he met you, the chemistry loving vampire was doing a favor for the school he had done quite a few times considering he was an honors student—playing tour guide for the new student.

He honestly found this part about his academic status annoying because even though Reiji was known to demonstrate his intelligence and be known for it, he was honestly just so done with everything (me and @liannelara-dracula have headcanoned this).

It never failed to annoy him whenever he had to show a new student around, especially if they weren’t to his liking, it was even worse in that case.

Plus, it always frustrated him when people couldn’t understand his explanations when it came to directions or where to go if students encountered an issue of some sort.

In short, he just doesn’t have much patience for this job and he hates it when the honor faculty requests him to do it.

He waited in the hall outside the admissions office like he typically did whenever he was expecting a new student, his arms crossed in annoyance.

And it was here where the school’s secretary came out with you and introduced you to Reiji.

While she introduced the both of you, you couldn’t tell but Reiji was definitely resting his gaze on you longer than he typically would with anyone, and his mind was too preoccupied to think any thought since he was checking you out.

He introduced himself as well, and from there, he began to show you around.

And you can best bet that the entire time was spent with him taking in your presence, more so your figure and strut as you walked beside him.

But of course, he concealed this manner of attraction as he didn’t want to come on strong.

He was honestly amused by quite a few things about you, more specifically how fast you were catching on to the school’s whereabouts since most of the time people were just confused by his instruction like I mentioned before.

“I’ll admit, it’s quite surprising to see that someone is comprehending how things work around here the first time around.” He thought.

By the time the tour was over, Reiji even went out of his way as to extend his help to you, something he never does for anyone.

Shh! Don’t tell no one!

He told you where you could typically find him on school grounds in case you ever needed anything and was actually willing to follow through with this commitment.

And part of him honestly wanted you to scope him out.

Rest assured, because Reiji was interested in you, he was going to find one way or another to cross pathes with you again.

And he’d make damned sure of it.

“My, it makes me wonder how she has such an effect . . . she is undeniably stunning, I suppose that’s why.”

Carla:

Mmm, the first time this man saw you, he was caught off guard.

No, literally, he was.

In fact, you were thrown off as well considering the abrupt circumstance.

You were running late to school and let’s just say things were getting quite hectic on the way to class.

You ended up losing track of time over the break between your third and fourth period, and were now late for your next class.

Like, really late.

So, you took off running, your figure sprinting through the halls, making it to one of the school’s staircases since your class was on the second floor.

You began to run up the steps, seeing a tall figure descending down them on the opposite side of your own, but a turn of events made things take a turn for the worst.

Through being in such a hurry, to your dismay, you missed a step and started falling backwards.

You awaited for the painful impact, but you soon felt a pair of arms around your form holding you firmly, preventing you from falling further.

Opening your eyes, you looked up to see a male student, long, white hair framing his complexion rather nicely as his gold orbs stared down into your own, a silence resonating around you both.

“Um, sorry.” You said, quickly getting out of his arms as the moment felt quite awkward, soon rushing back up the stairs again in order to head to class.

As for Carla, he honestly found the event amusing as it wasn’t every day that someone magically fell into his arms.

It was enough to get him thinking, plus, he had gotten quite the view of your face in such a vulnerable state, along with the feel of your body in his grasp.

“Hopefully, she’s a little careful next time . . . I’d hate to see her get hurt.” He thought to himself, an ever-so-slight smile twisting on his lips.

Shin:

As for Shin, it all started with his usual shenanigans of pranking his brother Carla.

He was planning to have his locker rigged with confetti and paint, that way when Carla would open his locker door, it would explode in his face.

However, things didn’t go quite like Shin had planned.

Shin peeped his head into the corridor and awaited for his brother to show. When Carla finally arrived, Shin was on the edge of his seat, counting down to the moment of when Carla would open his locker.

When Carla did, Shin was honestly confused as to why his prank didn’t work.

You soon showed and were a few lockers down from Carla.

“That’s strange. Is there something wrong with the wiring?” Shin thought, his eyes shifting to you as you were about to open your locker.

And it was here where he realized his mistake. Because the dumbass got his brother’s locker and yours mixed up, you can imagine what happened.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Upon opening your locker door, it exploded, paint and confetti on your face as you stood there aghast, not knowing how to take it.

You were so upset and it was honestly humiliating.

And here, Shin couldn’t hold back a laugh, leading him to expose himself as the culprit who set it up.

A fire burned in your eyes, your gaze turning towards him as you threw a flurry of insults towards him.

Shin grew up in times where women held their tongue, and was taken back seeing you express such an outburst towards him.

And dare he say it, he was actually turned on by your anger, the way the words slurred off your tongue, the rage behind them along with their power that asserted dominance over the situation.

You stalked off to the nearest bathroom to clean yourself off, leaving him flabbergasted.

“You never fail to cause trouble, do you?” Carla said a few feet behind, having witnessed the entire site.

And literally, Shin’s first thought about you, which he admitted out loud to his brother was, “Damn . . . she’s hot when she’s hot.”

No seriously, just ask @liannelara-dracula. We’ve hc’ed this lol.

Bear in mind that deep down, Shin has a thing for women getting angry at him, like it totally riles him up and finds it hot for some reason.

And from there, Shin didn’t stop bothering you.

He kept pestering you to forgive him in the weeks that came after the incident.

He kept telling you that this was all a big misunderstanding, and would throw a few minor flirts in in between because he’s an ass. Plus, because it would annoy/irk you, he only found it amusing, let alone a turn on.

“Oh c’mon, love. How much longer are you going to be crossed with me?” He’d smirk.

But you didn’t budge, he was going to have to work hard in order for you to accept his apology.

Azusa:

To be honest, his mind went blank when he first saw you.

He was just so thunderstruck that it felt like his soul left the world for a mere second.

Believe it or not, you two met in the school’s nurse’s office.

You started feeling awful around fourth period because an unexpected monthly visitor showed up days before it was actually due.

A migraine now throbbed the right side of your head, not giving you the strength left to continue the day at school.

You were just waiting for your ride since you knew you couldn't continue on, your hand resting a small ice pack on your head the nurse gave you to ease the pain.

Azusa sat on the bed opposite from your own, tending to his bandages as he had not looked up once since you arrived.

You noticed your ride was running late, the migraine being unbearable as you just wanted to go home. It felt tiresome at the moment to pull out your phone from your backpack, so you figured you’d ask the student nearby.

“Excuse me,” you asked, his hands still attending to his bandages. “Do you know what time it is?”

He gave no answer, his attention still on his wounds. You got up from your bed and went over to him, approaching him gently as you tapped his shoulder.

“Um, sorry to bother you, but do you know what time it is?”

Azusa looked up at you, his eyes taking in your genteel features, the way your hair fell into your face and rested against you, the delicate curves of your lips forming into a lethal asset that left him dumbfounded on the spot.

He felt like time had stopped, your gentle voice continuing to echo in his ears despite it being silent.

After a moment, he answered, “I don’t . . . know . . . sorry.”

You smiled, “It’s okay.”

Azusa smiled in return, your figure sitting down on the bed in front of his again, continuing to wait for your ride.

The silence was k!lling the boy in front of you as he twiddled with his fingers. And from there, he decided to make minor conversation with you, just about little things while you waited for your ride, such as what your name was, why you were here and whatnot.

Soon enough, your ride came, but before you left, he offered you the lollipop the nurse gave him.

You refused since she had given you one as well, but he insisted that you take it anyways, a smile on his face as he placed it in your hand.

You smiled back at his sweet gesture. “Bye, guess I’ll see you around.”

“Bye . . . I hope you . . . feel better.”

Giving him one final wave, you were off, feeling eager to go home and rest.

“She’s . . . cute.” He thought, a small smile on his face after you left.

And deep down, he just hoped he’d see you again, even if it was just from a distance.

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

At Your Door- Vandergerd

Based on these two drabbles from a while back, this fic is finally done! Thanks to everyone who convinced me to continue this on <3

Read on ao3

"You're beautiful, you know that, right?"

"Wait, what did you just say?" Vivian turned to the computer screen, holding a cat in her arms. She originally meant to show off the new collar she bought for Apple, but now she had bigger things to discuss.

Irma's eyes widened as they realized they weren't as muted as they thought. 

"Shit-Sorry, I thought I was muted." Irma quickly said as the panic settled into the pit of their stomach. 

They've had a crush on their online friend for several months. But they’ve only recently accepted that they had a crush on someone who lived on the other side of the country. 

They've gotten close to Vivian after they met through being added to a mutual friend's Discord server. Soon they added each other on other social media and DM'd each other almost every day.

Vivian shook her head slowly, putting Apple back on the floor. "No, I heard you. Did you just say that I'm beautiful?" 

Irma was now extremely thankful that it was just the two of them in the server’s voice chat. All of their friends who were chatting before had left to go to bed a couple of hours before, leaving Irma and Vivian alone together. 

They usually liked having time with only Vivian online, and they could talk about whatever they wanted. 

Except right now, this was not the time at all they wanted to be alone with her. 

"I-Um..." they stuttered, thinking of a quick excuse to escape this awkward moment. They looked at the closed door of the bedroom and pretended someone walked in. 

"My roommate wants something, I'll talk to you later!" Irma said as they scrambled to turn off their camera and mic and leave the voice chat.

"But I thought you lived alone-" Vivian's concerned voice cut off as Irma let out a sigh of relief. After switching their status to 'Do Not Disturb'  and turning off Discord notifications on their phone (for good measure), Irma sank into their barely-made bed. 

"What the hell did I get myself into?" they said as they put their head in their hands, talking to their imaginary roommate. 

Eventually, sleep took over, and they hoped that they would make a better plan in the morning to deal with the fact that they just called their crush beautiful.

Viv may blame it on staying up too late and completely forget about it. Right?

"Truly, a flawless plan."

"What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean by that is that you have no plan!" Gisèle said as she dropped her head into her open hand. Sighing, she looked at Vivian in front of her "Okay, let's go over this one more time, and maybe it will make sense to me."

"I'm flying to the East Coast, and I'm going to find wherever Irma lives and ask them why they called me beautiful the other night," Vivian explained like it was easy for anyone else to understand her logic.

"How do you know where they live? You've only met them in person once." Gisèle asked, trying to remain calm.

"I sent them a poster for their birthday last year, so I'll go to that address."

"And you don't think they might assume you to be a stalker or anything if you show up unannounced?"

Vivian shrugged. "I don't have any other choice. They refuse to answer my messages, and nobody else on the server has talked with them."

"Tell me you at least have a hotel booked or something when you get there," Gisèle asked, hoping that her friend put some thought into this.

Vivian shook her head, "I was hoping that Irma would let me crash on their couch or something." she said sheepishly.

She sighed again, "I have some Expedia points you can use. Just in case you need an actual lodging option."

"Thank you." Vivian smiled and checked the time on her phone. "So you can watch my cats while I'm gone?"

Gisèle nodded with a gentle smile on her face. Her friend might not think things through, but she knew Vivian's heart was in the right place. "Of course, I can do that for you. When should I come over?"

"My flight leaves in a couple of hours, so tonight?" she offered.

Gisèle sighed once again but smiled at Vivian, "A little short notice, but you better come back as Irma's girlfriend."

Vivian was exhausted after navigating the airports, sitting in a cramped economy seat, and giving the confused Uber driver directions to a place she had never seen before. 

All she wanted to do was go to her hotel room, shower, and order whatever takeout restaurant delivered the fastest. But she had to try to talk to Irma first.

Traveling across the country took close to the whole day. The sun was getting close to setting outside the correct building Vivian spent ten minutes searching for. Today felt like the longest day of her life, but the hard part had yet to come. 

Vivian stood in the hallway, triple-checking that 307 was the right door she should be knocking on, and hoped that Irma was home right now. 

Pushing down her anxieties with a deep inhale, she knocked on the door, but it was too soft for anyone to hear. 

“Come on, Viv. You can knock on a door.” She said to herself quietly, still standing alone in the hallway. She shook her arms at her sides, wiggling her fingers to shake out the nerves. 

This time, she knocked on the door harder and more urgently. Vivian heard the television mute and footsteps on the other side of the door, and the deadbolt turned inside to be unlocked. 

Irma looked like they hadn’t seen the sun in person in the past few days. They had bags under their eyes, and their dark roots were visible on the top of their head. Upon seeing Vivian, Irma’s eyes grew in confusion and panic. 

“W-What are you doing here?” they stuttered out hand still on the doorknob. 

“We need to talk about what you said the other night,” Vivian said in her best stern tone. She tried her best to sound serious so that Irma would at least let her inside. 

Irma shook their head, “No, we don’t, that’s okay. Goodbye.” they quickly said as they tried to shut the door, but Vivian’s foot prevented that from happening.

The two stared at each other silently for a moment through the small opening of the door until Vivian decided to be the one to break the ice. “Please?”

Irma pursed their lips before answering, “Fine, we can talk.”

“Good, because you’re hurting my foot.” 

“Oh shit, sorry.” 

Several minutes later, both were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. This is what Vivian was working up the courage all day for. But now that she’s here, she has no idea what to say.

Irma didn’t know where to start either, so she felt better about that, at least. 

“So…Who’s watching your cats?” Irma asked, glancing over to the blonde. 

“Gisèle, I think I showed you pictures of her with me before,” Vivian answered, trying not to pick at the skin of her nails. 

“Wasn’t she the one you had brought on voice call before?”

She thought for a moment as she remembered when Gisèle spent the night a few months before, “Yeah, that’s her.” 

“She seems ni-” Irma was interrupted by the attempt of small talk.

“Why did you call me beautiful?” Vivian quickly asked, wanting to cut to the chase already. She wasn’t sure if it was the nerves or not having real food in the past six hours that caused her impulsiveness. 

Irma’s eyes grew in panic as they tried to scramble for an answer, “Because uh- Because you are?” they said, unsure of what else they could say.

“You think so?” Vivian asked, slowly gathering the courage to look at Irma. “Does that mean that you like me? Like a crush?”

“I-I mean- I do like you a lot, but I never really-” Irma rambled out before Vivian scooted closer to them on the couch. 

“Because I’ve liked you as more than a friend for months.” Vivian blurted out loud as she got Irma’s wide-eyed stare in return. 

“You do?”

She never realized it until she thought about the video call from a few nights before that she had a crush on her friend. The way she smiles when Irma sends her memes out of the blue. Or whenever they sent her heart emojis, she wanted to screenshot every message. Maybe it was the good morning messages she woke up to every morning. 

She nodded, “Yes, but if you aren’t ready to talk about-” 

This time, Vivian was the one who got interrupted by a pair of lips crashing into her own. Their first kiss was nothing like she had with other people she dated. It felt urgent and needy, but she felt herself melting into the kiss. 

She felt Irma pull away, but their hands rested on her waist. “I like you more than a friend too,” they said, finally looking relaxed for the first time that evening. “But I probably should have asked to kiss you before I did that,” they admitted as their cheeks grew pink. 

“It’s okay, but maybe you can take me on a date while I’m still in town?” she offered. 

“Let me think of some good places, and I’ll pick you up in the morning.” 

(And to Gisèle’s satisfaction, Vivian did come back as Irma’s girlfriend.)

[ladyhoneydee]

Skin Care

zelink | Modern AU | 1.5k

Link and Zelda spend a loving Valentine's Day night in after a long workday, complete with a lot of tender touching.

This fic is for the wonderful and magnificent Alkturos, as part of the Loftwing Letters event held by the zelinkcommunity discord server!

Read it on AO3, FFN, or under the cut!

“Hold still, alright? This may feel a little funny at first,” Link whispers. 

“I know how this goes, silly. It’s not like this is our first time.” Zelda twines her fingers into her partner’s hair absentmindedly, and closes her eyes. Waits for his touch. 

“Yeah, but it’s our first time doing this to each other, rather than just doing it ourselves in the same space. I just…don’t want to mess up.”

She laughs, endeared, and opens her eyes to give him a comforting smile. “You won’t mess up. Worst case scenario, we’ll just make a mess, and we’ll have to clean it up later.”

Link bites his lip, and Zelda’s eyes are drawn to the crescent moon indent his teeth leave in winter-chapped pink. She’ll do something with that mouth later—if he wants, of course. “Okay, I’m going in, then…!”

She feels him crouch closer over her body, and then: the first tentative touch. Cool and sweet and gentle. Sticky, but that’s to be expected. “That’s good,” she encourages, and feels his movements become more confident.

“How is it?” he asks. She smiles. He’s ever the conscientious lover. 

“Best Valentine’s Day idea ever,” she hums. “ So glad we decided to stay in and—oohh—” 

The place he caresses in that moment brings more blissful relief than any touch prior, and if her eyes weren’t closed she swears they might roll back in her head a little.

“Ahh, and do skincare. Honestly, we do our routines together every night, why haven’t we thought of doing it for each other before?”

Link’s fingers, coated in The Potion Shop’s newest enzyme exfoliator, continue to rub obligingly at the point where her jaw meets her temples. “You’ve got a lot of tension here,” he says disapprovingly. “They’re working you too hard again.”

She can hardly argue. With it being election season, half of the actual work in the mayoral office has been shoved squarely on her shoulders while her boss gets to frolic around campaigning. It’ll be me someday , she swears, not for the first time. Then she unclenches her fist and reminds herself: Link. Here. Now. Be in this moment, Zelda. 

This moment is absolutely stupendous. She’s heard of a ‘lavender haze’ before—a lovey-dovey, honeymoon delirium. Right now, she’s floating in a papaya haze; the scent of the exfoliator perfumes her senses even more with her eyes closed like this. Link’s hands worship her skin intimately, tracing carefully below her lower eyelids, working the gel across the expanses of her cheeks and forehead with loving care. The massage soothes the delicate muscles with just the right amount of pressure. 

After a few minutes, the indulgence of this little facial still hasn’t ceased, and Zelda realizes that Link would just keep touching her this soothingly forever if she—or a hand cramp—doesn’t stop him sooner. She opens her eyes a crack and taps at his wrist.

He stops immediately, hands lingering against her cheekbones. “Something wrong?”

“Yes.” His eyes widen in concern, but narrow into a half-moon smile when she continues. “I haven’t gotten to ease you yet.”

They trade positions. Link lies on their bed against the towel-covered pillows, and she straddles his thighs for better access to his face. He settles back and closes his eyes, but they blink open again after a moment. She cocks her head at his furrowed brow, and then laughs when he holds up his hands—still coated in papaya-enzyme gel—with a pout. One hand towel later, he’s decently clean and nods his readiness. 

“You still want the—” Zelda turns the surprisingly hefty little glass container around in her hand to reread the label. “—Dangoro Charcoal Mask?”

Link nods enthusiastically. “I want to try it out! And my t-zone has been really oily lately.”

“I’m aware,” Zelda teases, and Link makes a face at her. “Okay, going in!” 

She and Link both cleansed their skin with their preferred products—jelly cleanser for her, to remove her office-appropriate makeup, and micellar water for him—prior to this mask stage, so none of the aforementioned oils are present on his skin when she reaches out for a hesitant first touch. It’s odd; she and Link have been intimate many, many times, in both sexual and non-sexual contexts, but it’s still new and almost a little scary to purposefully handle his face. It takes a few more strokes of grey-black goo across his forehead for her to get in a groove, but once she does, she finds herself enjoying herself immensely. 

She paints large swathes of charcoal over his cheeks and forehead, massaging as she goes, and the mask blooms in loose swirls across his skin. She traces wide dark circles around his eyes, which he keeps peeking open to watch her instead of remaining closed. Every flash of steel blue is a thrill, even as she teases that he can’t keep his eyes off of her. The first time she goes around an eyebrow, she accidentally plasters the upper hairs with goo, and they both giggle. The second brow, she messes up on purpose, just to hear him laugh again. 

It’s all the childish joy of fingerpainting, combined with the adult desire to love, serve, and admire. She wants to touch as much of him as she can, for her own selfish sake. She wants to melt away all the worries he carries under his skin, for his. 

Eventually, she surrenders to the demands of the mask; it has to sit still to dry well and perform its purifying duty. With nothing to do now but wait, Zelda suggests that they finish off the chocolate-covered strawberries Link made earlier. They munch happily next to the bouquet she surprised him with after work, and chat about the video game they’ve been playing through together. 

When the alarm goes off, marking twenty minutes since Link finished applying her mask, they trundle back to the bathroom. He perches on the closed toilet lid while she rinses off the half-dried papaya goo, and when she goes to towel off, he rises and gently takes the soft cloth out of her hands. 

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, as the towel glides over the planes of her face. 

“I think you do enough of that already.” She can’t keep a smile off her face at his words. 

“You, too. We take care of each other.”

“That we do.” She proves it when his own alarm goes off a couple minutes later, and she dries his face in turn. Little flecks of product Link missed in the rinsing come off on the clean towel, but it should wash out alright. 

“I’m really happy we did this instead of going out,” Link admits, as they scavenge through a drawer for their nightly moisturizers. She finds his tried-and-true—The Potion Shop’s Water of Life—first and passes it over, just as he comes across some of her usuals. “Guardian Retinol Potion, or Heart Quenching Potion?” he asks.

“Mm, Heart Potion.” She snags the frosted red glass bottle and twists open the cap. “It is Valentine’s Day, after all. And also—I had a really good time staying in too, Link. Maybe we should make this an annual tradition,” she jokes. 

“Want me all to yourself, do you?” He throws her a teasing glance in the mirror. 

She finishes patting the moisturizer under her eyes before giving him an over-the-top smarmy smile. “Obviously.” 

“Can I do one more thing?” Link meets her gaze in the mirror again. It’s ironic that he works as a vet tech when he has such effective puppy-dog eyes.

“‘Course you can.”

Link plucks a tin of lip balm from their skincare drawer and untwists the lid. The scent of honey wafts into the air. A swirl of his finger into the product, and then he traces her lips again and again, massaging with a focused, softly desirous look in his eyes that makes her a little weak-kneed. By the time he finishes, her lips are soft, warm from his touch, and rather excessively doused in balm. 

“Can I do one more thing too?” Zelda asks, cupping his chin. She swipes her thumb across his own lips slowly, ardently. After all, she had wanted to do something with them back at the start of all this. Link nods twice, a galaxy in his eyes. 

Her mouth meets his in a deep, loving kiss: a wordless thank-you for the care they show one another, the intimacy of this night they shared, the pleasure she feels just from being around him. He returns it with absolutely spine-melting passion. By the time she pulls away, his lips have been thoroughly coated in lip balm as well.

“Now that’s the proper amount of product to use,” she says breathlessly. “We’ll have to put it on this way every time, just to be sure.”

“Maybe you should show me again,” Link suggests, innocently. Too innocently. “Just to be sure.”

She smirks, and takes him by the hand. “Bedroom.”

“Bedroom!”

The night is still young, after all.

[lilyfreshwater]

Noodle said you're the one to ask about Tubbo and Ranboo can I get a tldr?

around the beginning of last year, tubbo and ranboo started getting really close. when valentine's day came around, they rescued michael and played keep talking and nobody explodes. they were flirting a lot and i think even traded "i love you's" as a joke. from then on things picked up pretty quickly, they were always on stream together and hung out all the time off stream too. this is where the late night mining streams come from where tubbo would just say whatever and ranboo would either be flustered or smitten. during this time they also became canon husbands in the lore.

fast forward to the summer of 2021, ranboo went to the uk and met up with tubbo, living with him in his addition. things were idyllic for the first few days until fltwt started, and then everything went haywire. ranboo constantly ignored tubbo on stream or acted annoyed with him, he sent out worrying ranmails about his spiraling mental health, and barely streamed or did any of the content he said he would. tubbo did his best to reach out (at least on stream) but it was obvious that tensions were high and ranboo was pulling away from tubbo because he associated him with everything that was happening. i'm pretty sure that if they ever were a thing, they broke up before the end of the trip, but that's just speculation on my part.

once ranboo went home things calmed down a little bit, but he still continued the attitude of hating tubbo and started to get a lot closer with people like billzo, sneeg, and aimsey. ranboo also presumably started going to therapy during this time. tubbo's mental health, on the other hand, took a turn for the worse because of tubnet, residual stuff from fltwt, the shit with oliver and his discord, and underlying mental health stuff that had been building up for a while. during the end of 2022, things were still amicable between the two of them, but it was pretty clear that ranboo was stuck in the past whereas tubbo had moved on. this was also around the time when tubbo reconnected with a lot of his irls and potentially started dating ash, or at least talking to him

during the start of 2022, ranboo really moved in on tubbo's friendships with sneeg, billzo, and aimsey, especially the latter two because he was visiting the uk in preparation to move. tubbo was still chilling with his irls, working on tubnet, and making new streamer friends like the people at misfits. during this time ranboo was either baiting beeduo, victimizing himself, or straight up ignoring tubbo/trying to steal his friends

leading up to now (july 2022) things have mellowed out a bit with the occasional inflammatory event here or there. we have confirmation that tubbo muted ranboo on twitter and also unfollowed him on spotify, although it's unclear if the latter was a beeduo related thing because he unfollowed tommy as well. recently there's hasn't been much beeduo controversy as there has been clingyduo confusion with tommy really leaning into his crush on ranboo and seemingly ignoring tubbo. tubbo and ranboo are still ignoring each other as well, and although aimsey has reconnected with tubbo billzo has begun acting shady and ignoring him completely

also here's a comprehensive visual timeline created by @clingyhq to put everything in perspective:

[squadron-goals]

End of 1918: Ceasefire and revolution

Rudolf Berthold is in the Berlin University Hospital until late autumn 1918, where his sister looks after him. Due to the slow healing of his wounds, further use of Berthold in the troops was no longer an option, nor was he initially granted use at home. He spent the last weeks of the war in his Franconian home.

October 1918

Overthrow! Constitutional change! In a few days, what strong men have built up over centuries will be destroyed. "Peace at any price!" So the seduced people whine. People everywhere have lost their heads. One doubts the army. We are still far in enemy territory and we are supposed to surrender? Madness! Oh Germany, where is your national feeling? How great France is in this respect! Despite all the devastation at home, despite the many defeats, it remains strong. We have been victorious for 4 years, we have smashed armies and states almost in all parts of the compass rose, and yet the homeland has not been behind the front for a long time! Not only because of the privations to which we too were subjected; the internal incitement, the worthless party discord has crushed the spirit of unification of 1914, has crushed all that was good! You dishonourable wretches who have carried the spirit of treason to the people under the guise of the alleged idea of peace, do you believe that the enemy will know justice and mercy? Ceasefire offer ... our honour is over! I still push for the front. The consequences of my last crash are outwardly overcome. Unfortunately, my right arm remains lame. But I shot with it in spring and summer after all. The will and the ability just have to be there! I want my Geschwader 2 back. Precisely because I had the greatest difficulties with it for months until it was flying at its best, until it grew close to my heart. I am attached to each and every one of them.

The belief in the imminent peace of nations is a fantasy of our pacifists: the world will never completely eliminate ill-will and enmity, love even among nations can never be forced, especially when hatred lies in the blood, and a bridge can never be built in the long run between people that differ from each other like fire and water. Only power and the will to defend oneself secure life for the individual as well as the nation.

Wilson replied. We continue on the sloping track and I still have to sit here. I want to go out to the front! I'm supposed to put together a new fighter wing after all. If only I had at least my healthy bones ..., but I'll make it anyway! The will does everything. As long as the battle rages outside, everyone who has experience belongs out there! One can help so much, especially from an educational point of view! How pathetic is this begging in front of Wilson! The front is fixed again and yet we want to surrender, we the actual bearers of the victories! How ridiculous, mean and miserable is fate sometimes! These days I am in my closer home near Bamberg. It is a beautiful piece of German soil. This magnificent German forest, the serious spruce, they seem to me even more gloomy than usual, even sad! They mourn with me over our nation's growing disgrace!... This people without self-confidence should be ripe to govern itself! Disgusting is the poison and spite that is spread against the person of our Emperor! Thus the foreign countries must only despise us all the more.... Join together, all of you who have kept your decent minds in these days of meanness! Cast off all petty party interests, let honour, loyalty and love for the homeland not be empty phrases!

November 1918

There has been such an eerie silence before the storm over Berlin since the end of October, all that is missing is the spark and the discharge is there! Berlin, the center of all intellectual life, the nurturing center of art and science, the center of the greatest industrial activity, on the one hand, the giver of everything good and beautiful. On the other side, again, the breeding ground for the worst impulses and impulses, the abode of all the worst criminals, the rejects of humanity, the revolutionary rabble who can only destroy, not build up, who cannot lose anything, but only in bloody upheaval with murder, robbery and looting has to win! There is also the branch of Russian Bolshevism and these wicked elements, supported by the Soviet embassy, are already beginning to stir. As unbelievable as it sounds, they are hugely popular and the weak Democratic government is letting them do what they want instead of interfering with fire and sword. Instead of coming together and forming a solid fighting bloc, the good citizen is left at a loss. Speeches are made and incendiary articles are written in the newspapers, but there is a lack of initiative. If the storm breaks out, everything will definitely go into chaos, everyone will try to save themselves and go under one by one. Our previous regime can be blamed for not educating the people sufficiently in national consciousness; the press system in particular should have been better supervised and controlled by the state! Because what educates the common man more than his newspaper? With the most ruthless severity, timely intervention had to be made where one was at work undermining the love for the people and homeland, the only source of our strength! They tried to win over these elements through false indulgence and clemency, the result was a strengthening of the un-German direction and the true friend of the fatherland saw his ideals, for which thousands gladly gave their blood, for which they sacrificed their everything, sullied by a brutal hand. As long as a good core, even if it is currently so small, lives in our people and does not die out, we have the indestructible hope that one day loyal German reception and feeling will awaken in the fatherland and will relentlessly demand accountability from those who, for criminal reasons incite the people with mean egoism, tear them apart with incendiary speeches and ignite the revolutionary fire!

The Commission left to accept the ceasefire conditions - unconditional! -. Is there anything else we can do now that Bolshevism, once promoted by the Social Democrats, is becoming increasingly widespread? Kiel, Lübeck, Braunschweig... Workers-Soldiers' Council dominate the field and, to add insult to injury, the cowardly and oath-breaking home troops are defecting to the revolutionaries in droves. The king's coat, which I have worn with honor and pride for so long, is desecrated! How difficult it is, how terribly difficult, to continue living!

Berlin and Munich are ablaze, judging by the broken connections! This precisely at the moment when we need to be strong in order to gain as much as possible from the enemy in the negotiations! It has happened: the revolution has broken out! Fate, go your way now! The wildest rumors are circulating in the countryside, which is cut off from all connections. Emperors and princes have been driven out, the Bavarian king has been driven out of Munich! Unbelievable! But now you can trust the mob to do anything! And I have to sit here doing nothing, especially these days! Oh, if only I had a company of my peacekeepers and we would soon have peace restored! I would hunt down the ringleaders; day and night they would have no peace until they had reaped their well-deserved reward: the hanging!

In the last few days I couldn't write: everything was too terrible! One piece of terrible news follows another, leaving no room for calm reflection. What people were afraid to suspect is now reality: the mob has become master overnight! Workers' and Soldiers' Councils everywhere, these canails have chosen the moment well for their work! These new ministers are agitators and shouters, party bigwigs and professional politicians of the worst kind! And nothing is harder to learn than to command well and govern well! What I saw weeks ago: in this chaos, the majority of our people were simply taken by surprise and then lost their heads. Poor Germany, where are you going?

I didn't have my diary in hand for over 4 weeks. I wanted to forget, not think, and yet it was impossible to calm down. Today, on Christmas Day, I'm looking through the pages again and asking you, dear diary, about memories. Like every year, like outside in front of the enemy, like as a child and as a man in peace, this time I decorated a tree just for myself: the Christ child above, with a small airplane underneath, looks at us and smiles. They know that you are my best advisor, my friend in good days and bad. There is snow outside, which I rarely saw in the field, and which I always wished for at Christmas because it brings the real Christmas atmosphere. Snow on German fir trees... and yet no Christmas spirit! This time the snow is like a big shroud that covers so much beauty, so much longing, so much ideal. Why do I always feel this cold shiver when I look out of the window over the fields, meadows and forest in their white dress, even though the cozy warmth surrounds me in my little room?

It's Christmas and yet completely different than usual! Did the time of revolution also bury our old German Christmas, the joyful hope, our childhood faith? Then, German people, if you have forgotten how to be a child, you are no more worth than being thrown into a pit and covered with earth! If earning money and rawness of heart and emotions mean strength for you, then you don't deserve to have thousands of people believe in you like they believe in themselves and bleed, gladly bleed and bleed to death! Free, free, finally free! This is how the masses roar, this is how they rage. One infects the other, everything forms a huge army of drunks, exiles, madmen! The happiness of the new freedom is shouted to each other. You call each other comrade and brother, fall into each other's arms, kiss... and suddenly the stupid citizen, the beer table hero, notices that his wallet is missing! Freedom, equality! How greedily the eyes sparkle! I ask the one who shouts the loudest, he looks at me with stupid eyes, thinks and stutters: "Me, I don't need to work anymore!" He is a worker who I asked about the nature of the new freedom... I ask a farmer who I previously saw walking arm in arm with the worker. First the same stupid face, then a blissful smile: "I don't have to deliver anymore, I can now sell my grain and my potatoes secretly and use the money..." I ask an elementary school teacher. A proud look from above. "Now we are the masters. We will finally get the salary that we have always fought for. Now we demand: now we must be given the social position that we deserve based on our intellectual superiority, our salary!" So this is what the happiness of the new freedom looks like! The worker no longer wants to work, but wages, high wages, money, money. The farmer believes, with the cleverness that is innate in him, that he can drain his fellow human beings, the city dwellers, the workers; He sees human duty as an annoying constraint, he only wants money, money... The elementary school teacher sees demands as his ideal.

Why do you look at me so sadly, my little tree? Only a few families have a Christmas tree and the children run around depressed. Devotional! Brutes mockingly disrupt the church service. That is now the “great thing”, that the freedom of the republic has brought us is a big field of rubble, slavery! And how I longed for this Germany after being outside from the beginning! High and low lay shoulder to shoulder in the same dirt, the officer next to his soldiers, all animated by one thought: to protect the fatherland! That was real democracy, that trench community, it and only it can be the foundation stone for a new building of our German nation! My dear little tree, have no fear: I remain firm and strong inside despite the external collapse and with me many, many Germans. The inner values remain and true inner greatness cannot be lost. German fir, grown in the German forest, a symbol of hope and loyalty, you should not remind us in vain that we too are children of the same earth. German Christmas in German lands! How rich we are for having such a feast! As long as we celebrate Christmas, German loyalty will not die out in German hearts!