#I realize I am not normal about this at all

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - PART FIVE*

Summary: “Y/N hasn’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, but it seems like she is not the only one overthinking this time…”

Tropes: innocent!reader x boxer!harry

Wc: 3k

Warnings: smutty scenes, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, teeny tiny bit of angst ig

A/N: I AM BACK! I finished my exams today and I hurried home to write the rest of this chapter bc I have been itching to do so for the past weeks. I will try not to put as much time in between the next chapters, sorry about that! Love you all and enjoy!!!

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It had been three days. Three entire days since the kissing-in-the-car debacle that Y/N had participated in, and she still wasn't over it. How was she supposed to act normal at their class tomorrow? It had plagued her mind ever since she walked into her apartment that Saturday night.

All weekend, she had been contemplating different things. Saturday and Sunday, she was sure she wanted to never see his face again because she couldn't stand the embarrassment. But when Monday rolled around and re-thought everything after coming back from work, she realized that she should probably be mature and talk to him.

However, that resulted into her pacing around her room like a maniac with the phone in her hand, his number ready to dial. For the past twenty minutes she had been trying to convince herself to just press that call button and get it over with.

"C'mon..." Y/N growled to herself. She stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and finally called him. Her hands were sweating as the dial tone sounded over and over again, and the nerves she felt were sure to explode her stomach, but she kept breathing and waited for Harry to pick up.

The distant sound of a phone ringing took Y/N’s attention away from her own attempted call. Her heart began beating even faster as she walked towards her front door, and sure enough, when looking through her peephole, she saw Harry standing in front of her door.

As she took the lock off, Y/N broke up the call and putting her phone in her pocket. Harry's eyes were wide at the door opening all of a sudden, but he still managed to muster an awkward smile amidst his shock before he greeted her.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Hi." She greeted back, unsure of what to do or say or feel. "uhm, what are you doing here?"

The question came out so soft, as if she was scared to ask it, not ready for the consequences his answer may bear. Maybe it was true; she had always had the feeling that her body was better at communicating her true feelings than her brain was.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, his tone serious enough for Y/N's chest to start pressing on her, but a soft edge to it nonetheless. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, opening the door wider and letting Harry inside her apartment. He walked in and silently observed the place. Y/N felt oddly tense as she waited for him to take it all in, but he was quite quick to turn around. In the seconds that he stood there, entirely quiet, Y/N deduced the obvious: he was awaiting some instructions from her.

"Go sit on the couch, do you want something to drink?" She asked, already heading for the kitchen. Harry sat down like she told him to, but shook his head.

"No thank you, just wanna talk. Can you... sit down?" His difficulty to meet her eye and the apprehension behind his words had Y/N immediately head for the couch and sit down next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked innocently, like she wasn’t the reason this awkwardness existed in the first place.

"About last Saturday." He answered. You began to shake your head, cheeks already reddening from the shame that washed over you.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just— hold on," He interrupted her. "I said something, that night, I can't help but think that you didn't take it how I meant it. And it has been eating at me all weekend because I'd hate to be the fool who accidentally rejected you."

Harry's eyes bored into Y/N's until she couldn't take the intensity of it anymore and looked down. He leaned forward, putting his hand on her leg. She studied his fingers as they slowly caressed her skin.

"Harry, it's okay. I misinterpreted it, you don't have to make excuses to make me feel better." She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to prematurely dodge any bullets that might have ended up with her crying otherwise.

"I'm not!" He protested. "I— Y/N, look at me."

When she didn't instantly comply, Harry's fingers traced up to her chin and redirected her face towards him, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb slowly stroked her chin as he took in every inch of her face.

"I wanted it." He said slowly, making sure she heard every word he says. Slowly leaning in, he added: "Really bad."

His lips hovered near hers, so close it was nearly sending her into a frenzy, but far away enough for him to assess her reaction on his movements. But Y/N was an open book, a reactive person when it came to these desires. She couldn't feign disinterest as she had never felt this strongly about someone in such a perverted manner before. Harry mouth slowly curled up into a smirk.

"Can I show you how badly I wanted it?" He asked, the heat of his breath reaching her face and making her core pulsate. The only thing Y/N could do was nod, and before she knew it, Harry's lips closed in on hers.

A soft whine escaped her throat as he kissed her, the desperation of her body unshielded under his roughly delicate touch. Nothing seemed to make sense as he slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back on the couch, nothing but him.

Harry leaned forward, not taking his mouth off Y/N as she sat against the armrest. He hovered over her, his body between her spread legs. One of his hands was holding onto her waist, while the other one kept him up by holding onto the armrest.

As their tongues danced around each other, Harry's hand slipped down from her waist towards her inner thighs, and Y/N felt her panties getting wet at the suggestive caresses of her skin. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back a little bit, their lips now apart. Still caught up in the heat of the moment, Harry mindlessly trailed his kisses down her jaw and then onto her neck.

"Harry." Y/N tried to get his attention, but his name sounded more like an erotic plea, and caused a growl to sound from his lips, followed by a rougher treatment on her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as his lips sucked at that sensitive skin of her, and a small whine fell from her as he bruised her neck.

"Ha— hmm... Harry!" She exclaimed. "S— stop."

Within a millisecond, or at least it felt like that, Harry's hands and mouth were removed from her. His face was filled with worry as he took in hers.

"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" He began asking, but she was quick to shake her head.

"No! It's just— I haven't really, done much of this before. I don't have a lot of experience and uhm, I just wanted you to know that before we... proceeded." Y/N explained, voice near trembling as she spoke. Harry's eyes softened, and his face pulled into a soft smile.

"Thank you for telling me." He said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss before pulling back, sitting up straight. "I just have one question, though."

Y/N nodded, big doe eyes staring right at him as that innocent smile transformed into a smug grin.

"Can I show you what I actually wanted to do last Saturday?" He asked, stroking her already spread legs. Before she knew it, the answer fell from Y/N's lips.

"Yes."

He let out a satisfied hum before his hands grabbed at her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear, leaving her bare cunt to be exposed to him. Y/N blushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how exposed she was, but the fascination that twinkled in Harry's eyes washed most of her insecurities away. She watched carefully as he leaned down and his fingers began stroking her folds.

Y/N held her breath in anticipation, curiously waiting for Harry to continue, and when he finally put his hands on her clit, she couldn't help but shift in her seat a bit at the tingling sensation.

"O— oh!" She shrieked when she felt Harry's tongue attached itself to her clit, his middle finger now paying more attention to slowly beginning to slide in and out of her. Y/N tried to control her breathing to the best of her abilities as Harry explored her sopping and pulsating core.

Y/N's mind had gone all fuzzy from the sweet feeling of his touch on her sensitive parts. It was impossible to focus on anything else than Harry, and even if it was, she wouldn't dare take her eyes off of him anyway. It was addictive, the way he was ravishing her like she was a culinary meal, and it felt glorying.

Harry temporarily removed his mouth from her heat, and looked up at Y/N before saying: "C'mon, angel. Tell me how it feels."

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname she'd grown to love ever since the first time he said it, and she tried to control her whines as she responded.

"So— ah! So good..." She managed to reply, her knuckles turning white from balling up her fists in an attempt to not come too early. Harry's tongue swept over her clit in such an intoxicating way, and his now two fingers pumping in and out of her was only getting her closer to her inevitable climax.

Harry moaned at her verbal approval, and picked up the pace of both his mouth and his fingers, leaving her nothing but a whimpering mess under him. This was surely going to be the death of her, wasn’t it?

"Harry— I think I'm going to..." She ran out of breath before she could finish your sentence, and she began convulsing around him, legs trembling as her orgasm began to reach her like a wave building up. And then just like that, it crashed.

With a cry of his name and a few profanities that followed, the sensual waves of her release hit Y/N. The release was slow and long, and one of the most satisfying ones she'd ever had. Harry's touch stayed on her skin, helping her ride out her high.

When he finally backed away, Y/N was still breathing heavily from what she had just experienced. Wide eyed, she observed how he licked his lips before he looked up at her. She could've come again from the sight of that alone.

"D'you want some water?" Harry suddenly asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to your kitchen. She followed him with her eyes, mouth agape as he went through her kitchen cabinets until he stumbled upon two glasses and filled them with water. As he returned to the couch, he raised a brow, indicating that he was still waiting on an answer.

"Uhm, yes, thank you." Y/N stumbled as he handed her the glass. She took a few sips, scanning him while she drank. He was so casual all of a sudden, leaning back against the couch with his legs spread like that... there was something cocky about it and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to roll her eyes at it or jump his bones.

Possibly both, at the same time.

Y/N put her glass down and slowly crawled over to Harry, who sniffed a laugh at her wobbly movements on the way too squishy couch. She hoped it would at least come off as cute, now that her attempt at being sexy had been trampled by her own furniture.

As the laughter from both parties died down, Y/N took it upon herself to slowly start kissing Harry's neck. Her heartbeat rose when she felt him shifting in his seat, a pained sigh escaping his throat. Meticulously, she dragged her hand down his chest until it reached his pants, and she began unbuckling his belt.

She was surprised when she felt his hand pull hers away, and stopped her actions to see what was going on. When she saw his clenched jaw, she frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"You don't have to do that angel." He said, tilting his head a bit. She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, alright." She said, and felt a pang in her chest at the idea that she could've done something wrong. Harry took both of her hands, cupping his over them.

"I’d like to save it for next time." He suggested, the slight raise of his brow adding a certain playfulness to his reply. The hint of a smile on his face filled her with a warm feeling, and she quickly found herself nodding at what Harry had said.

“Plus, I have to get my beauty rest… I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I teach this private self-defense class, client’s got me working till late.” He joked, eyes beaming when a giggle fell from her lips. Y/N took her bottom lip between her teeth, stomach fluttering as she took in the painfully beautiful, funny, charismatic man in front—or well, under her.

“Really? Is she any good?” She teased back, brows raising in surprise when Harry nodded.

“Difficult to teach tho.” He responded.

“Why’s that?” Y/N questioned, genuine curiosity dripping from her tone. Harry took his eyes off her and shamelessly lowered his gaze to her body as his hands, that had dug into her waist, slowly began to trail down to her ass.

“‘S just so hard to concentrate…” He said lowly, and she felt her core heating up again at the sole sound of Harry’s voice. Her cheeks flushed alike at what he was implying, and she felt like an animal with the way her body reacted to him.

Y/N remained as quiet as she could, savoring Harry’s touch on her bare skin. She would have closed her eyes, had she not been too mesmerized by her face to do so.

Nerves swirled in her stomach as she watched Harry’s stare trail upwards again, only to stop at her lips. Gradually, he leaned forward, closing the gap between the two’s mouths. Y/N couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when Harry put his lips on her again, and much like the touch of his hands on her, she relished in the way his tongue circled around hers, and she was surprised at how well their bodies captured the connection that she had been unable to explain in words.

It was safe to say that Y/N was disappointed when at last Harry pulled away, but she couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face of his.

Her eyes widened when he got up all of a sudden, hands still holding up her thighs in the few moments before she wrapped them tightly around him in response to the sudden movement. He sniffed a laugh, which Y/N was only able to hear because her arms were locked around Harry’s neck and her face was only a few centimeters away from his. The urge to smile almost prevailed over her shock.

Harry’s hands let go of Y/N’s thighs, and she lowered her legs in response, putting her feet on the ground again and removing herself from his touch completely.

As they walked towards the front door, Y/N found herself to be a bit gloomy. She didn’t want him to leave, he was so fun to be around. He made her not worry, which was a miracle because Y/N always worried. And she knew she’d go back to worrying and overthinking the second she’d be alone again, so the prospect of Harry going away was not the most fun. She had to remind herself that she’d see him tomorrow, though.

Y/N opened the door, waiting as Harry put on his coat. When he finally had, he turned to her one last time.

“Sleep tight, angel.” He said, and with that, walked right out the door. Y/N croaked out a weak ‘bye’, but she was pretty sure she’d heard the elevator ding by then.

It took her a minute to recover physically before turning off her lights in the living room and floating towards her bathroom, where she smiled like an idiot all the way through brushing her teeth.

It wasn’t until her head hit the pillow that what she dreaded came along again: that tiresome worry. Thoughts and scenarios filled her head as she lied in bed, watching the ceiling as if it would grant her answers, or peace.

It was as if, with Harry, nothing else truly mattered. Not necessarily in the corny, dramatic way, but rather in the sense that it felt like the outside world wasn’t that much of a factor in Y/N’s decisions, nor did she have the feeling that it should be whenever she was around him. But when he was gone, it would all start to matter again and suddenly she found herself doubting whether dating Harry would even be a good idea.

What would her parents think? What would Sophie think? Would she be viewed as less professional by her co-workers for dating her trainer? Would it impact Harry’s reputation—

She stopped herself. Probably not, considering Harry was a man.

It was with a frown that Y/N eventually dozed off into a deep slumber. Not even in her dreams she was safe from the anxiety that plagued her, a nightmare about being fired stirring her awake at around four in the morning. She was more exhausted when she woke up than when she went to bed.

But despite all of it, her body still buzzed in anticipation of tonight’s class…

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah @kierramcduffie @harry2121 @babegoals @hermionelove @bitchidontpost @lomlolivia

[suzukiblu]

Day seven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . ‘fast’,” Kon echoes awkwardly, glancing down at their hands. Tim tries not to wince. He definitely sounds like an idiot or a prude or–whatever. Just incredibly, incredibly uncool. 

He has actually never felt less like a prude since getting to know Kon well enough to notice things like how good the bastard looks soaked in Kool-Aid, but now is just . . . really not the time for thoughts like those, yeah. 

“I, uh–I’ve never actually, um . . . with anyone, actually. Guy or not,” Tim half-admits, though it feels stupid that being a virgin is something to admit instead of just a statement of fact. Normally it wouldn’t be, is the thing, but he just really doesn’t want Kon to think he sounds lame or antisocial or . . . whatever, exactly. “I actually would literally not even know how to, uh . . . give you ‘tips’ or anything. Unless I had like, the prep time to do some research, I mean. It’s just, uh–I don't date much, to be honest. Or, uh. Pretty much at all? Like, you're definitely more experienced than I am either, uh, either way, like that's just–I don't do much of this stuff. Any of it. I have in fact gone out with exactly two girls in my life and they both were definitely, um–also the ones who were making the moves and all.” 

It's not that he never want to make a move, just usually he's too busy being way too in his own head about it or something else entirely or–

God, he is rambling so much, Tim realizes, repressing a cringe when he realizes how blankly Kon’s currently staring at him. Because it is very, very blankly, that Kon is staring at him. 

Crap. 

“Uh,” Tim says with a grimace. “Sorry. Um. If you were expecting something . . . faster, I mean.” 

Kon should definitely not have anything that fast if he’s thinking of himself as a product, Tim’s basically positive, but also that’s actually not any of his damn business, but also he definitely needs to look into Kon’s dating history just to add a few names to his list for when he finally goes supervillain and just maybe look into–

. . . Kon is still just staring blankly at him. 

Tim fails to repress the cringe this time. 

“Uh,” he attempts again. “Kon? Are you . . .?” 

Kon turns literally crimson and ducks his head, but also doesn’t actually stop staring at him. 

. . . alright then, Tim thinks. 

“I do like you. I like you a lot. Like–I like-like you a lot, if I have somehow managed to not be embarrassingly obvious about that at this point,” he tries, borderline flailing in the conversation now since Kon is apparently no longer willing to use his words and he was already not doing that great with it when Kon was using his words, and he can’t even talk with his hands or anything because he’s holding Kon’s hands like an actual grade schooler, except probably no one ever has held Kon’s hands like–no, no, he is not far enough down the supervillain pipeline to be able to finish that thought process and deal with the psychological consequences of having to not burn down the system about it, he really cannot do that at any point in the next ten to fifteen years whatsoever. “This isn't–I'm just–it's not me not wanting to . . . take some pictures, eventually. Just . . . maybe we could wait a bit on it. Stick with the streets and buildings for a little while longer, maybe?” 

He tries for a smile and also tries not to cringe again over how weak an attempt it feels like, and then has the uneasy and uncomfortable thought that actually doing anything like that isn’t even really–is that ethical, even? Even the idea of doing something like that? Kon doesn’t really know Robin all that well, no, but they’re on the same team and the same side, and they’re teammates and at least arguably friends, and Kon also doesn’t know he is Robin, and– 

“Um,” Kon says, his hands tightening just a bit around Tim’s and his face still blazingly and borderline inhumanly red as his head ducks a little lower and his mouth curves into what is, in fact, the most unfairly soft smile that Tim has ever seen on the bastard’s face. “We could do that, yeah.” 

Tim was thinking about something, probably? Which hopefully wasn’t something important, considering just how ruthlessly Kon just fried his brain out of his head. Which is not even reasonable or logical, because all Kon did was . . . well, imply he was fine taking things at Tim’s pace and not actually going to get immediately bored if he didn’t put out and was actually interested in just being together, and also did it while smiling at him like that. 

Alright, fine, Tim knows exactly why his stupid brain got itself fried. He’s still apparently embarrassingly easy, though. 

Well, that’s not exactly new information in regards to Kon anyway. 

[brainddeadd]

we haven’t talked much about baby devils family besides her mom… so maybe she’s an only child also why she’s love the boys so much because she has never had siblings and what if she lost her dad a few years ago to cancer and it’s not something she really talks about only person on the devils that knows is luke so maybe when it was the cancer game it was really important to her and everyone found out about her dad

The Cancer Game

warnings: parental death

ok so.. my dad died and this is how i'd want my friends to react and how some of them did react..

if you've lost someone close to you, i am so sorry for your loss

The New Jersey Devils locker room was filled with the usual celebration buzz. They’d just pulled off a big win, and everyone was riding high on the thrill of it, the energy bouncing off the walls as teammates shouted and laughed. Normally, Y/N would have been in the thick of it, cracking jokes and soaking up the post-game excitement with her team. But tonight, she’d been different. She’d put on a brave face, even cheered a little in the locker room, but her heart wasn’t in it. Only Luke noticed the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she slipped out of the room as soon as she could without saying a word to anyone.

He’d seen her like this before, knew the kind of weight that could press down on her after certain games. The annual Cancer Awareness game, something that meant so much to the Devils organization and their fans, had an especially painful significance for her. A few years back, her dad had passed away after a long battle with cancer. It wasn’t something she talked about; she kept her emotions tucked away and rarely let them out, but this game always hit her hard. Luke was the only one who knew, and though she never said anything, he’d learned to recognize the signs.

The other guys hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, but they were noticing the change in her. Jack frowned as he watched her leave. “Did you guys see Y/N? She just left so quickly. I don’t think she even said goodbye.”

“Yeah, and she was barely talking all night,” Nico added, crossing his arms with a worried look. “She seemed…off. You think something’s wrong?”

Dawson, still buzzing from the win, looked back toward the door, his excitement dimming. “She didn’t even celebrate like usual. You think we should check on her?”

Luke glanced at them, a little torn. Y/N was private, and he didn’t want to betray her trust, but he also didn’t want her to be alone with this. With a slight nod, he said, “Yeah. I think we should.” He didn’t offer an explanation yet, but his face was serious, and the others picked up on it right away.

The group left together, the energy in the car shifting to something quieter and more solemn as they drove to Y/N’s place. They entered her apartment, hoping she’d be alright, but the scene they found tugged at their hearts.

Y/N was curled up on her couch, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Luke stepped forward first, his heart heavy as he saw his friend so vulnerable. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, not saying anything, but letting him be there.

The others stood back, exchanging looks of uncertainty and sadness. They hadn’t seen her like this before and didn’t want to intrude, but they also couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone.

After a quiet moment, Jack finally spoke up. “Is…is she okay? What’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.

Luke took a breath, deciding to share what he knew in the hopes that they’d understand. “Her dad…he passed away from cancer a few years back. This game…this night…it’s a lot for her to handle. It brings back memories.”

There was a stunned silence as the reality of her pain sank in. Dawson looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for not realizing sooner. Nico’s expression softened, his eyes full of empathy as he took a step closer to her.

Jack’s face fell. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. You should’ve said something. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”

Nico nodded, his voice gentle. “We’re family, Y/N. Whatever you need, we’re here. Always.” His words were soft, filled with the warmth of someone who understood what it meant to be part of a team that cared deeply for each other beyond just hockey.

Dawson gave her a supportive smile, his voice as warm as he could make it. “Yeah, we’re here for you. If you ever need to talk or even just want someone around to keep you company, don’t hesitate. We’ve got your back.”

Y/N looked up through red, tear-streaked eyes, managing a small, appreciative smile as she took in the scene. There they were—her teammates, her friends, her family—standing around her with faces full of concern and love. She hadn’t planned to let them see her like this, hadn’t planned to share the part of herself that was still so raw and aching. But here they were, offering her every bit of their support, not backing away from her sadness.

Luke’s arm tightened around her shoulders as he whispered, “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re all here.”

Y/N felt her heart swell as Jack, Nico, and Dawson each moved closer, surrounding her with a warmth and presence that filled the room. They didn’t try to fix her pain or rush her through it; they simply sat with her, letting her know that she didn’t have to bear this alone. The weight of her grief felt a little lighter with them there, their quiet strength helping to carry her forward, reminding her that no matter how heavy the burden, she would never have to shoulder it by herself again.

[kaisam]

Some wise words from Hank Green to listen to right now. From the We're Here newsletter.

Hank's election thoughts Hello, It’s a special edition of We’re Here. I’m trying to get my head on straight right now, which I’m sure is the case for you. I remember realizing after the assassination attempt that there was a rationality to my scrolling…I felt like my picture of the future was no longer relevant, and I desperately wanted to have my new one put in place. Of course, scrolling in the hours after a big event doesn’t tend to provide that relief, but it makes sense that I wouldn’t know what else to do. Today, I see people scrolling for similar reasons. Those of us who did not want a second Trump term (it’s a very large majority, but if that’s not you, I’m still glad you like the newsletter) are trying to figure out a bunch of things at the same time: How exactly did this happen? Who should we blame? (whether voters or strategy or candidate or party) What do we do now? I am not a political scientist, so I cannot answer those first two questions for you. I’m sure there will be plenty of interesting analysis coming out of all of the people who think about this stuff for a living and we will never know exactly who was right. But I do have a couple of suggestions for the third thing. First, I’d ask that we all accept that it is normal to mourn an imagined future. I have had this feeling many times in my life, and it is never nice. So, grieve. That is human. Second, do things. I don’t know what those things are, but do things. This morning Katherine said to me, “The trees and the sky and the squirrels and the stars just go on, and that’s what we’ll do.” This reminded me of this bit of an essay on living under the shadow of nuclear war written by C.S. Lewis: “If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs.” Obviously, Donald Trump is not an atomic bomb. Think whatever you will about him, but if “nuclear war now!” was the other candidate on the ballot, I would vote for Trump! But there is an analogy here. We are asked so often (especially by the internet) to shoulder every burden every day. Let me just say to you, that you do not need to shoulder every burden today. I think we will all be better served if today is for doing things that are close, things that we’ve gotta get done, things that bring joy, things that we care about. My answer to the question “What do we do now?” is simply “anything.” This is not the world I wanted to be in today, but it is not the end of America. Presidents are not dictators. There will be plenty of fights down the road, but some days you fight, and some days you live. I think there’s a pretty good chance that today is for living. We’re here because we’re here, Hank

[jikooklove9795]

Was going through ur last post it was amazing. I am curious though! What was *that* moment of realization to u?

To be honest I am in this jikook shit for years now and feel very refreshed and happy when I see more and more people share and celebrate their relationship

Lots of love❤️❤️

Hi Sweetheart! Thanks so much for your kind words.

The first ever video I watched of BTS was their Dynamite MV. In 2020. I loved it! Everything. The beats, the choreography, their outfits, their voices, their sync. Everything! I started watching everything related to Dynamite. And that's how I stumbled upon the behinds of their MV. I loved how loud and fun the members were. How enthusiastic they seemed about their job.

By this time I was able to tell which members were which. It took me almost a week 😅 It was my first time watching anything Korean. So, I kept getting confused about who was who. However, Namjoon was easy to spot. Maybe it was his blue hair at that time. But by the end of a week I could comfortably identify all of them and got their names correct too.

While I was watching a behinds video of Dynamite I chanced upon this video here. And what struck me was the way Jungkook kept staring at Jimin. He was so into the staring that I doubt he heard anything what was being said until Taehyung had to tap him to get his attention. Not only that but I also noticed that Jimin felt Jungkook's stares on him and was trying not to look at him directly but still looked like he enjoyed the attention.

I got intrigued by what I saw and tried to dig into it to see if it was just a one time thing or if there was more to it. I watched a few Jikook videos on YT. And sure there seemed to be something but I realized all the members are touchy feely and super close with each other. But still the way Jungkook kept looking at Jimin in the above video was something else. It cannot be explained away with normal skin ship, affection or friendship. So, I decided to watch original content cause then I can get the proper context instead of compilation videos.

I saw all the big, loud Jikook moments: RB, GCFT, GCFS, MMA 2018. But what made me realize that Jikook are different, that they're a couple was when I started watching og content in chronological order. Starting from the pre debut days. I could see their story slowly unfolding.

Them being best friends and being find of each other. Jungkook going up to seek Jimin's advice regarding him wanting to pursue a career in dance. We need to remember that Jimin was the last member to get in the team and Jikook knew each other for just 6 months at this time. But Jungkook still felt comfortable going upto Jimin for that talk and nobody else.

Both of them having a soft spot for each other. Jimin being loud and open about his fondness for Jungkook. But for me the more telling was Jungkook's behavior. Jungkook's constant teasing of Jimin (this is something I have seen a lot of teens do when they have a crush, want to get the other's attention but still not ready to admit that there is a romantic interest). Seeking him out, wanting to be next to him, wanting his affection and attention. All of it.

I could see the realization of feelings, the acting on it. By this time in almost every video, let it be backstage or even award shows Jikook were glued at the hip. They were constantly together all the time by their voluntary choice. Jungkook started openly enjoying Jimin's affection, he became more daring and outgoing in seeking out Jimin. He started enjoying his effect on Jimin. And was always coming up with ways to get more of that reaction out of Jimin.

There were grand gestures, most of it from Jungkook. Sometimes it's impulsive but most of the times its because he wants to show Jimin openly how much he's in love and cares for Jimin. He wanted everyone including us, fans to know that he sees and treats Jimin differently.

There's the living together theories (if I'm being honest its not a theory to me cause there's so much evidence pointing to it). Since we are talking about living together how can we not talk about sharing rooms in hotels. They're the only ones doing it. None of the other members are sharing rooms unless its decided by games that they have to share. The others are more than happy to have their own space.

By 2020 they gave an established, secure in their relationship vibes.

So, yeah for me it was all the og content when watched in that order which cemented my belief that they're a couple. A long term one at that. Who cherish what they found unexpectedly when they came to Seoul for their careers.

Once again thank you so much for sending this in 😊

Lots of love to you too ❤

[silviaflowers]

Hi chat I'm back back again with more epic sketches!

All writing is in the alt text! I'm trying my best to provide image ids but I often forget 😭

ok so short thoughts and then we'll get into some longer ones under the cut!!

I subscribe to both "Athena lived actually" theory and "Ares assisted Odysseus" theory,, I just think they're the silliest siblings fr Argos' design is purely on vibes and i did NOT have a reference for the boar. this is why both of them look slightly weird. The last two drawings are heavily based on the cut song Your Light! I am so normal about it. (More on this below the cut)

The penelope design was heavily inspired by @gigizetz's, and Aeolus was directly lifted from gigi's design as well <3 Telemachus was inspired by Duvetbox's Telemachus but much less heavily lol (Athena was also inspired by Duvetbox)

OK. LONG THOUGHT TIME. STRAP IN

I have some personal siren headcanons that i actually really wanna share SO. I like to think that Sirenelope did not actually look accurate to Penelope. I have two reasons for this, one of which is that one of my big siren headcanons is that they rely mostly on visual memory to disguise themselves. They can tap into words and such usually but what they most rely on is the visuals. Its much less important to act like the wife than to look like her, after all, the siren song usually does the heavy lifting.

But in the same way that Sirenelope makes the mistake of saying "daughter," the visual memories can be corrupted through the beeswax in the crew's ears. So she can't pin down Penelope's appearance as easily as she might with someone with clear ears. Ergo, she makes mistakes (neglecting her beauty mark/mole, making her look younger, etc etc.)

The OTHER reason is that I like to think that sirens try to make their forms more beautiful to appeal to the sailors. For example, Sirenelope tries to smooth out Penelope's wrinkles and make her more conventionally attractive. A little like a snapchat filter.

ok Siren rant over NOW TO TALK ABOUT YOUR LIGHT. So if any of you guys don't know, Your Light was essentially beta Open Arms, Polites cheering up Odysseus right before something awful happens, etc etc. However, it goes more into detail about the interaction between Odysseus and Athena's boar. Polites mentions that they took the boar on together, he was frozen in terror when the boar lunged for him. Odysseus takes the blow, forcing the boar down, and that's when he beats it.

Now im insane about this for other reasons but the MAIN part in relation to the art is like. What if Your Light and Warrior of the Mind coexisted? (this isn't necessarily canon DIVERGENT its just kind of a stretch) So the timeline here is basically that Polites and Odysseus go to face off against the boar, Ody beats it but takes on heavy damage, ("I only took the blow so you could live.") so Polites goes to find something to get him to Not Die Hopefully. and that's when something strange happens and he realizes Athena is there yadda yadda Warrior of the Mind stuff. Then Polites comes back with bandages and they make it back home where Eurylochus is waiting and is like. WHAT??? HELLO??? The "What happened to you!?" is a reference to Puppeteer btw i think thats silly and i like references.

[catwouthats]

I am so past this realization right now, but I have to say it.

Mr Collins is not a creep in the books at all. He simply struggles with social cues and has a special interest in high society. He’s autistic in an “unpalatable” way.

The adaptations can just be ableist.

So here are my random hot/lukewarm takes summarized about the matter of Mr Collins:

1) He only thought that Lizzie still liked him after repeatedly rejecting him, but when the mother said that she’d “convince Lizzie to marry” him, he rejected the matter entirely (now knowing she in fact did not want him)

2) Mary is actually not a good match for Mr Collins nor did she truly want to be with him. He does not care to learn to understand reading more and simply likes learning, experiencing and observing high society. She said that he would perhaps be okay if he’d learn to read a little more. Not only did she briefly feel pushed into marrying him, she would not have been able to handle him as is. She would have liked to customize him if she was unfortunately enough of being pressured to marry him. They would have driven each other mad. I understand some of you will disagree with me and that’s okay, I simply wanted all my thoughts on one post

3) He apologized profusely for assuming one of the Bennett girls cooked the meal. He meant it. He also apologized for many other occurrences, not just concerning the Bennetts. He meant them all; he looks at high society with an awe and therefore would not take his apologies lightly. He is prideful yes, but will very frankly admit when he is wrong.

4) Though him and Charlotte Lucas aren’t good together romantically, they are still good together. She is a good listener, he is a good provider. He appreciates her; she appreciates him. Sure, he may have such a schedule with his socialization and activities that a guest leaving their house pains Charlotte slightly (as the repetition can be too much), but she has her peace in the library. And, might I remind you, that Charlotte told Lizzie that she is not a romantic. She does not marry for love because she does not experience it or perhaps because she thinks she will never find it. Either way, Collin’s and Charlotte are still quite respectable to each other. They both have their safety and social status and companionship (which is what they wanted)

5) He is autistic. As mentioned before he is very happy to simply live his life observing high society. Hell, he spends a point of him days staring out the window and announcing each carriage that passes along with their probable passengers to whoever will listen (usually leaving to go to the library and excitedly tell his wife). I know autistic was not a word at the time, but come off it. Of course he was. Just because a label is new doesn’t mean it didn’t exist prior!

6) This seems off topic but I swear it has a point. Facing the facts, so many Jane Austin novels focus on cousins marrying. This being said, to think that he is the major creep in the book, when he simply and plainly only planned to marry a cousin because Lady Catherine advised him and was taught by society it was normal, is odd! Especially when we consider the existence of Wickham! Wickham, someone who consistently has a history of gaslighting and defiling young girls simply for his own pleasure… Ugh, he is truly a disgusting creature.

[docholligay]

So, the true and glorious story of my own failure in the face of knowing how my own body works, despite having lived in it for 38 years.

Last night, I expected to be at least moderately on edge. I pretty reasonably decide that I would be better served to fall asleep and find out what life looks likein the morning. i'm not young any more (my wife worked for the Kerry campaign, I've been volunteering politically since the first Obama campaign. To date ourselves) and so, i don't stay up for results anymore.

Very reasonable.

So I take a pot pill. Great. i take it about two hours before i want it to hit.

I make the mistake of checking the results right before I head to bed, and while everyone is embroiled in hope, I see that I was exactly right about my initial impressions, months ago. That i got in trouble for! Anyhow.

Anxious, i go, "I gotta take something else" I have a bottle of .5 mg pills of lorezapam I've had for a decade, and I take one.

A pot pill, for me, is a quarter of a gummy. That's 2.5 mg. You may notice that between the two of these things, the dosages are very small. This is because my brain is wired bizarrely, and some things have a tendency to hit me harder than they do normal people. I know this. I know this!

Neither of these things have ever caused me any unusual symptoms. I just go to sleep.

But I am stupid. i have never met me, apparently. This body is new to me! I combine them.

My brain is so fucked that I have to do a patch test any time I try a new drug like I am VINTAGE CHINESE SILK. I know this, very well. That very night, I told Mike and Teddy I wasn't really going to drink because pot and alcohol can make me go full, "The Senate is lying to us!" So I know I have to watch it with combining stuff.

And y'all know me! I am not a teetotaler! I have sampled many fine drugs over the course of my existence. DARE made me think, "Wow that sounds cool." I am not a square. I am not suggesting straightedge behavior. This song did not work on me.

So I, forgetting the very makeup of my body, take this tiny, ridiculous lorazepam on top of my pot pill. It is the dosage my wife gives a twenty pound dog. it is a thing I have taken before.

But not together.

I crawl into bed, and I begin to get sleepy. Fantastic.

I roll over.

Oh. No.

My skin is alive, all of a sudden. I can feel every inch of it beneath the covers, where it touches on each individual wrinkle of the comforter.

"fuuuuuuck." I whisper between gritted teeth. Because, you see, I've done this to myself before. Not with this specific combination, but I have mixed things before, or just taken things, that make me aggressively aware of my surroundings. I am SO AWARE. There's nothing to do, once it reaches this point.

I have to wait it out. I pull myself up, and thump my twenty pound blanket on top of my body--which does help--and spend the next five hours riding each wave of hyperawareness, breathing through it, because it will end, like most hard things, and I am trying not to laugh at myself while it's happening. I know better! I know better!!

Finally it does wear off a bit, in just enough time for me to realize that I was right all along and the election has not gone my way.

38 years and I've learned nothing.

[lamb-bait]

I realized something about myself sooner than my parents did, sooner than my friends did, and sooner than anyone I managed to lie through my teeth and convince to love me.

I was a wolf.

Selfish, jealous, vile. The mask I wore to comfort those around me, the tendencies I had when I saw something or someone wanted - all those years of repressed urges. It's hard. I was born in the wrong century, the wrong millenia, the wrong era. Imagine if I could just take what I wanted? If bashing in someone's skull was an action people looked up at, all these violent and disgusting desires weren't socially frowned upon.

Thankfully, tumblr has been a lovely faucet to expell my thoughts. To share some things before I imploded. Even if my physical, innate horrid nature was left unattended, and my emotional capacity was shallow to hear empty, feeling my heart race and obtaining a genuine and pure emotion for someone other than myself - through rape, father figured smut and vile fantasies - felt as though my mask was finally off. Chasing something I don't deserve, something I can never have. lying to myself, convincing myself that it was possible. yeah right. as if.

my ranting aside, today's topic is about emotional selfishness.

I often claim that I'm obsessive and possessive, and while that's true, it only happens once I make a connection to someone. An emotional one. Expressing weaknesses, smiling at the messages, longing for the painful distance of someone who finally understands me for who I am. A creep putting on the front of a polite, somewhat normal guy who wants to be loved for the person he doesn't have the audacity to present to the world. I urge people to get close to me, I tease and smile and laugh, I worry and comfort, I ask them to tell me their secrets, their concerns, their lives - while holding every part of me back. Would they waste their time with me if they knew what I was? If they knew that my fantasies and desires were innate and not just built off of things I saw online? Could I truly take off the mask and still be accepted? Or, present myself as the engima and play along with that concept until they find someone else to make them feel the same way I once did? Can I handle watching someone I've grown attached to slowly drift away? The sick and twisted thing I call my heart, has it always been that fragile? It must have. The single most thing I despise being done to me, was easier to do to others.

I understand, more than what anyone may think I do about the fear of abandonment. And, it's one of the greatest hurdles I hope to jump through one of these days. But, I really need to put an end to dumping my insecurities online - but hey, it's my blog. I'm sure you'll get a more vile post later tonight. Until then,

With love, lust and everything inbetween,

Shepard

[anim-ttrpgs]

A big part of Eureka is splitting the party. Normally games are loathe to do this because of the potential to bore players while they passively watch others play the game. I'm curious how you deal with this when you run Eureka. Sending players away seems like it could make it either better or worse. Like if it's at a home, people can go hang out by the snack table and drink and chat, but that doesn't work as well at, say, a game store. I'm curious how people felt about having to leave the game several times.

While the risk of boring the players or putting too much stress on the GM is a real concern, the addage of "don't split the party" actually originated in the TSR D&D era, where splitting the party made them weak and vulnerable to all sorts of situations that would be less of a problem for a full strength party, However, for a game like Eureka that produces more conventional narratives (everyone take note that I did not say that Eureka produces more narrative or is "more focused on narrative", just more conventional narratives) and has more of a focus on intrigue and horror, the party splitting up to cover more ground and collect more clues in the limited time they have to solve the mystery, but also making each one of them more vulnerable if something happens, is an actual trade-off that can improve the gameplay and story.

First of all, besides it just being really entertaining, I really recommend you listen to the Tiny Table Actual Play of Eureka. It has some really good examples of splitting the party and sending players away that are executed really well, and also some good discussion of it in the post-mortem episode and the interview.

I’m going to answer the ask directly from my own gameplay experience, but I really really urge anyone who has played Eureka to comment with their own experiences with splitting the party and sending players away.

Alright, so, obviously how long players are willing to wait their turn is group-dependent, but with our own group, we’ve actually kinda had the opposite problem from players getting bored. Instead, Narrator and the players whose characters are currently in the spotlight start to worry that they’re selfishly hogging too much session time, and try to rush the scene along (to its great detriment), when in reality the players who were sitting out were happy to keep waiting. Realizing this led to us altering the advice regarding splitting the party in the rulebook, and actually recommending the Narrator go a little longer before switching to the other characters.

I personally am happy to wait up to like 90 minutes if my character is out of the scene, because I have faith in my group and also in Eureka that the payoff for waiting will be that much greater, seeing the characters relay what they have learned while they were apart in dialogue rather than the player just saying “My investigator tells them everything that happened.” It really heightens the tension, lets the characters shine, and can even really help with solving the mystery, because having the events and evidence recounted out loud can help with making connections that might have gone over people’s heads the first time.

Of course like the rulebook says, it also comes to the judgement of the play group as a whole, and should definitely be discussed beforehand basically as part of session zero, and even mid-session if it needs to be. (Communicate your preferences to your play group!!!!!) There’s plenty of scenes and situations where having the other players leave the room instead of sitting and watching would add nothing at all to the experience.

Now I want to hear other people’s opinions. If you have played Eureka and had a party split where some players left the room or otherwise excused themselves, how did it go?

[like-it-or-not-i-am-alive]

Sitting and thinking about how we have absolutely no idea of what is to come.

This could be a stressful four years of financial difficulties. They could literally take away our human rights. Or both.

People are either in the streets celebrating or crying in their beds. There are people playing optimist saying it couldn't possibly be that bad. There are people saying it's WWIII coming.

I don't know what to expect. I want to be realistic. I don't care about cutting corners and sparing feelings. I want everyone to be prepared. I just... I don't know what to prepare for except for the worst. It's so much better to be prepared for doom and meet nothing than it is to realize too little too late that doom has come to your door.

I have witnessed how quickly things can change when they want to. Florida was once a very queer friendly state. At least in major areas. I used to pride myself in Ybor's strong drag history. Our large pride parades and our ample youth support. There were bad patches, of course, it's always going to be rough outside of the cities... and lets be honest, safe for queer people didn't mean the same thing fifteen years ago that it does now. Safe for queer people fifteen years ago was facing less harassment and leading somewhat normal lives.

When I was in high school, gay marriage was legalized across the country. Most states, including Florida, had discrimination protection. Things were getting better.

It took only a year for things to hit the fan. So quickly, Desantis was able to rip my safety away. It took no effort. None. People STILL struggle to get gender affirming care. They tried to ban it even for COUNSELLING.

I wasn't yet on HRT when that happened. It was one of my big motivations to start. I had the privilege and luck to start HRT because I am on my parent's health insurance plan. Plus, I was able to pay out of pocket for the prescription so that if something like this happened I wouldn't get dinged.

Even with my privileged access to insurance and ability to drive a long distance, it took me a long time to start. I wanted to start months before I was able to.

They then tried to criminalize trans people with updated gender markers. They attempted to target trans people by enforcing all Florida IDs to have their AGAB gender marker. Those with updated licences could face a fine or even jail time.

That was VOTED IN. THEY VOTED IT IN.

The only reason it did not fly was because a (very merciful and kind) judge shot the fucking bird as it flew. Stating it was CLEARLY targetting and therefore against the state constitution.

Did you know I didn't even know about it until it was voted in? They snuck it in. They could do it because they wanted to.

When we entered 2024, one of the first deaths of a transgender person was in Florida.

It took only a year for Florida to go from a safer state for queer people to being marked UNSAFE for queer travel.

It took only one year.

I don't trust the "it won't happen" anymore. I was told that so many times, and then it DID. It DID happen.

I don't know what to expect from this. Like I said, I want to be realistic. I just don't know where to look for direction anymore.

I'll be working on some resources.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I may be able to answer them. If not, I'll at least post it so someone else might be able to.

Keep your heads up, kids. Keep your ears sharp and your eyes focused. We will be ready to face this. Whether that means facing rising grocery bills or facing a militia, we will be ready. Together.

[aventurineswife]

aventurine x reader!!: 🤍

req with hanahaki, but it’s a condition reader was born with {rather than the traditional unrequited love type of things, but aven doesn’t know that} basicallyyy: reader hides their condition from him, until one day aven finds out, and is worried it might be his fault

noticing how extra clingy he’s become, reader decides to ask him about it, he asks about their hanahaki, and we get cute fluffy ending <3

{basically chronically ill reader looking back on this, but hanahaki is very interesting :D}

hope you’re having a wonderful morning/evening/night <3 🤍🫧

“I won’t give up on us, even if the skies get rough”

Summary: You have been hiding a lifelong condition, Hanahaki Disease, from Aventurine. Though the disease isn't caused by unrequited love, it still manifests in the form of flowers growing your lungs. As Aventurine becomes more clingy and concerned about your health, you finally confess the truth. Aventurine, feeling a mixture of guilt and concern, vows to support you through your condition, offering comfort and care.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hanahaki Disease, Chronic Illness, Fluff, Comfort, Emotional Support, Angst (with a fluffy ending), Established Relationship, Relationship Growth, Vulnerability, Healing, Sweet Moments, Caretaking

Warnings: Mild illness (Hanahaki Disease), mention of chronic conditions, light angst, feelings of guilt and concern, unrequited love not being the cause of the condition.

A/N: THIS ACTUALLY SUCH A GOOD PROMPT?! AND ALSO ORIGINAL TOO!! LIKE MAN I WAS DONE CRYING OVER CHARACTER GETTING THE DISEASE BECAUSE OF UNREQUITED LOVE!! ☹️💔

The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft, golden hues across your shared living space. Aventurine stands in the kitchen, flipping through a deck of cards absentmindedly, his gaze shifting occasionally in your direction. You’ve noticed how his attention seems to linger on you lately, how his glances feel like they carry a silent question he hasn’t yet voiced. And though he’s always been affectionate, his recent clinginess has you wondering if something’s on his mind.

Today, after all the little moments of unspoken worry and his fingers brushing your arm a little too often, you decide to bring it up.

"Aven, love,” you begin gently, meeting his gaze, “Is everything alright? You’ve been...extra close lately."

He hesitates, his ever-present smile faltering just slightly. "Ah, am I really that obvious?" He chuckles, but there's a hint of nervousness behind it. "It’s just...I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been coughing a bit more lately."

You freeze for a second, feeling your heart quicken. You’d tried so hard to hide your condition from him, carefully coughing petals into tissues, tucking them away when he wasn’t looking. Your condition was a lifelong burden, not caused by any recent heartache but simply part of who you are. But now it’s clear he’s been noticing more than you realized.

“Aven, it’s not... It’s not what you think,” you say softly, reaching out to take his hand. “I know what you’re thinking—that it might be because of you. But it’s not. It’s something I was born with.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Aventurine’s confident composure breaks entirely. He stares at you, brows furrowing, genuine worry and perhaps a bit of guilt swimming in his eyes. "You mean...this wasn’t something recent? You’ve...you’ve had it all along?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. "It’s always been there. The doctors don’t know why, but it’s just a part of me. I didn’t want to worry you, so I hid it."

He exhales, visibly relieved but still concerned. “You shouldn’t have hidden something so big,” he murmurs, brushing a hand through your hair, fingers gentle and affectionate. “I... I hate thinking of you going through that alone.”

His tone is soft, filled with a depth of emotion you rarely hear from him. "I just wanted things to feel normal," you whisper, resting your forehead against his. "But lately... it’s been harder to hide. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t trust you."

For a moment, he’s quiet, his hand slipping down to cradle your face, his thumb tracing gentle patterns against your cheek. “I’ll help you through this. You’re not alone in this anymore, you hear me?” His voice is resolute, his determination clear.

A small, hesitant smile finds its way onto your lips as you nod, feeling the weight of your secret lighten. “You really don’t have to...”

“Oh, but I do,” he insists, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. “I’m already envisioning ways we can handle it together. I’ll bring you tea every morning, make sure you rest more, and maybe bring a few cards to distract you when things get rough.”

You laugh softly at his playfulness, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. The tenderness in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you—it’s as if he’s promising to take on part of this burden just to keep you smiling.

“I’m lucky to have you.” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him.

He smiles, holding you close, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear. "And I’m lucky to have you, petals and all."

With Aventurine by your side, you realize that even the things you once saw as burdens feel a little lighter. The two of you, together, find comfort in each other’s embrace, knowing that no secret or struggle can stand between the love you share.

[purplebubblywitch]

Astarion's Journal

_____________________________________________

Hey everyone, Last time, I wrote a letter from Cazador's perspective. To better understand this letter, make sure to check out my first fanfiction. Letter from Cazador If you like it, please let me know I'm not sure if I should keep writing more. So, what do you think? ❤️ ____________________________________________ To Cazador, I can hardly believe I’m writing this letter, but here we are. After our fight, when I found your… well, let’s call it an oddly obsessive love letter, I was furious. I won’t lie. But Tav suggested I should respond. Not that Tav always has the smartest ideas, but at least Tav managed to lead us straight to you and ultimately, to your lifeless body. Tav thinks writing down my thoughts might help me heal faster, maybe even start a journal. Normally, I’d scoff, I’m not a 12-year-old nor, for that matter, Halsin. But honestly, if anyone in our group is the journaling type, I’d have bet on Wyll. He looks like the sort who’d dance his feelings out, probably looking like a spider in a fire while doing it. No one’s got the heart to tell him he’s a terrible dancer. I wanted to, but Lae’zel gave me a look that said everything. Anyway, back to the journal. Who even has time for one? We’re here to kill an Elder Brain, after all. But speaking of Halsin, Tav handed me his old journal since we couldn’t find a blank one, so I tore out some pages and claimed it. We found it in Grove, and he hasn’t missed it since. I’d call that a cheeky solution. He can go hug some trees if he’s feeling out of sorts. You should  have seen how well I can imitate him! But let’s get to the point, Cazador. Every time I say your name, Tav tells me I sound like a hissing cobra. Where was I? Ah, yes. your stupid letter. Let me start by saying this: I am not a victim. You were the victim, Cazador. You never managed to break free from your own twisted cycle. And even though every part of me despises you, I almost pity you. No one was there to help when we killed you, and no one will miss you. It’s as if you never existed. No power, no love…nothing. While I may have first manipulated people out of fear, they’re with me now by choice. They believe in me, especially Tav. It’s hard to believe, but they actually love me. That’s something you never had, not even at the end. And that’s why I’ll always be more than you ever were. I mean, I’m alive. I survived, and you’re dead. What more could I want? Well, besides killing this wretched Elder Brain. And I’ll admit, I savor the thought that, in your final moments, you were penning that ridiculous letter, thinking I’d come to you driven by fear as always. It’s a delightful thought, realizing just how much power I had over you. I have my body and my life back. And yes, you were right…I have trust issues, fair point, but I have all the time in the world to rebuild that trust. And I will trust again. By the way, boiling down Vellioth’s skull and stuffing his rules into his mouth? Hilarious. I briefly thought about what I could do to you, but I’ve decided you’re not worth any more of my energy. This letter will be the last thought I give you. I will heal, slowly. Sure, you’ll haunt my dreams, but time heals everything. Even if I could’ve done without your “special treatment,” it made me the person who’s ready to take down an Elder Brain. Now I have a reason to fight again. You were always driven by fear, you poor, pathetic thing. So, what can I say, darling? Rot in hell. Oh, and by the way, I drank your wine and sold your art. Your taste was always abysmal. Astarion P.S. Halsin just walked by and noticed his old journal. Said it looked “familiar.” I guess I’ll find somewhere else to write next time.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Some people can't get their heads around the idea that there are people who are basically kind, considerate and compassionate who are without an ulterior motive. No one's perfect but Catherine is a middle class person who married into the BRF. A lot of people who only started taking notice of the royals around 2018 don't realize that the royals aren't celebs. A couple of ex-royals decided they wanted to be celebs and we all saw how that turned out.

If Catherine had never met William I doubt we'd know who she was. She worked in fashion after uni and has a normal "boring" family. We don't know her outside her work but I think her private life would've been the same regardless of who she married. She probably would've married someone from her own/similar background and have a family living in the countryside.

Also, life married to a random rich man is a lot more enticing than being married to a future king where every aspect of you and your life in inspected so if Catherine had just wanted a cushy life she wouldn't have married William.

Exactly. Yet another way that Kate reflects the general public more than her naysayers think - most people are like Kate in that we don't have sordid skeletons or dirty secrets buried in our closets that could ruin our lives. It's not a conspiracy. It's not strategy. It's not a scheme. There's nothing to hide.

It is a plain, simple fact that most of us are good people from boring backgrounds with ordinary experiences like Kate.

And lastly, I can't let go of the anon who said that because Kate lives a taxpayer-funded life, it means that people have the right to be suspicious of her. That anon doesn't understand what using taxpayer funds means. It means that your actions while you're using taxpayer funds is under scrutiny. Your actions when you were not using taxpayer funding doesn't count.

As a federal employee, my salary is paid by taxpayer funds. Meaning that all Americans have the right to know what I am doing to earn that salary and how I spend my time on the clock for that salary. But once that clock ticks 4pm and once that money goes into my pocket, it's not your time and it's not your money anymore. It's mine. You don't get to know what I do with it or how I spend it. The only thing that you, the taxpayer, have a right to know about my personal spending and my personal time is that I'm not using government or taxpayer funds to support my own lifestyle - meaning I'm not using a government purchase card or a federal grant to get Eras Tour tickets or eat the Cheesecake Factory and that I'm actually on leave/non-work status when I go on vacation and not fraudulently claiming to be in the office.

So applying that to Kate: if she wasn't using taxpayer funds and she wasn't on the clock (as she was not from 2001 when she met William to 2010 when she became engaged to William, with some exceptions), then it's not your business what she did, where she went, how she spent her time, what she thought. It's off-limits. She was a private citizen then. A taxpayer doesn't have any right to Kate's personal history, her personal background, or her personal activities. They have a right to William's personal history, his personal background, and his personal activities since he was taxpayer-funded.

Kate didn't qualify for taxpayer scrutiny until October 2010 when she became engaged to William and began utilizing royal services/support. So scrutinize her life, her decisions, her behaviors, her actions from thence. Make conspiracy theories about ulterior motives from 2011, and sure - I'll play along with you. But everything before April 28, 2011, again with some exceptions, is off-limits.

[zsakuva]

Hello!! Even though it's absolutely irrelevant, I thought I'd ask anyway since you seem the best person to answer the question(s) I'm about to ask:

First of all, I am someone who has listened to/ is open to listening to most types of music. But these days I feel like I'm falling behind in music genres such as ambient, folkkore or soundtrack annd much more.

On the other hand, it would be hard not to realize that you listen to these genres religiously in the short time I was able to use Discord!! So you kinda get the point of me asking this question specifically to you 🦉

So, let's ask you, King Crumpet, do you have any suggestions?, or important stuff you want to talk about? Let your people be cultured too!!

I normally consume soundtracks of things that I've played/watched before, and many are nostalgic for me. But I tend to listen to music that helps with my work, so I curate my playlists when I'm searching for a specific theme or mood. I also listen to my 'Discover Weekly' and 'Release Radar' semi-regularly to find new songs, so the artists in total are ALL over the place.

So in no particular order, I'll list off soundtracks that help my brainstorming/writing (bear in mind I don't listen to the whole soundtrack, just pieces that fit what I need):

MOVIES/TV SHOWS/ANIME

Game of Thrones - Ramin Djawadi

House of the Dragon - Ramin Djawadi

The Hunger Games movies - James Newton Howard

The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power - Bear McCreary

The Wheel of Time - Lorne Balfe

The Untamed - Hai Lin

Tales From Earthsea - Tamiya Terashima

Psycho-Pass - Yugo Kanno

The Sandman - David Buckley

The Bourne Trilogy - John Powell

Oppenheimer - Ludwig Göransson

VIDEO GAMES

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - Jeremy Soule

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion - Jeremy Soule

Final Fantasy XII - Hitoshi Sakimoto

Final Fantasy XV - Yoko Shimomura

Horizon Zero Dawn - Joris de Man

Moss - Jason Graves

Pine - Tumult Kollektiv

Detroit: Become Human - Nia Fakhrara; Philip Sheppard; John Paesano

MISCELLANEOUS BUT NOTABLE ARTISTS

Yuki Kajiura

Gareth Coker

Nobuo Uematsu

Two Steps From Hell

Howard Shore

Jia Peng Fang

Will Savino

Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (normally renditions of video game soundtracks like Tomb Raider II)

Hans Zimmer

Loreena McKennitt

Mark Eliyahu

Yutaka Yamada

[mescalpascal]

Title: With You (Dieter Bravo x f!Reader*)

Rating: A hard T, or a soft M.

Word count: 724

Warnings: Drugs; depression; self-hatred; suicidal ideation. Nothing is acted on, but it is all discussed.

*This is fully self-serving, so while I’ve chosen to list the Reader character as female and depict her as such on the header, there is no use of gendered pronouns or descriptors within the fic; Dieter calls Reader “babe/baby”.

Notes: This is unasked for, unwanted, unbetaed. I just needed to get some feelings out, and apparently the only pathetic way I could do that was to use Dieter.

(header by me; feather divider by @saradika-graphics)

“Babe?”

You don’t answer. You’re not even sure you would be able to if you wanted.

Instead, you sit cross-legged on the bed, staring down at the bottles in front of you.

It would be so easy…

You’re studying a bottle of Lexapro, wondering idly just how much would be enough, when you hear the faint sound of his footsteps outside the door. You try to quickly cover your tracks, tossing the blankets over your stash…

…but you aren’t fast enough.

“What the fuck?”

You meet Dieter’s eyes, dark and wide, like he’s seen a ghost. You open your mouth to try and say something, to explain yourself, but it isn’t fast enough. He’s sitting beside you quicker than you think is possible, his big hands digging under your blankets and coming up with the pill containers.

“What are you doing?” There’s a loud rattle as he tosses the bottles haphazardly onto the nightstand and fills the new emptiness in his palms with your cheeks. “Baby, no. Please talk to me. What were you going to do?”

“Nothing,” you breathe after several moments of silence. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to do anything. I just…” A long sigh, from the deepest parts of your body and soul. “I just realized how easy it would be if I wanted to.”

You force yourself to meet his eyes, and they’re wet and soft, and it breaks your heart in a thousand pieces to realize your stupid selfish moment of weakness is making him cry. You raise your hands to wrap around his wrists, closing your eyes against his soft thumbs pressing into your face.

“Baby, you’re scaring me,” he says; repeats it a few times. “Can I take you to the hospital? Can we get help?” He pulls your upper half closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I need you here. I can’t lose you. Please don’t go.”

“I wasn’t going to, Dieter,” you say again. “I— I don’t want to die. It just struck me that I could, if it got bad enough, if…”

You feel the sob that wracks him before you hear it pass his lips. “You can’t die before me,” he murmurs. Normally, this would be a joke, a way he teases you when you’re complaining about pain or frustration. Now, it’s pure fear. “This world needs you. I need you.”

Something breaks inside you, cracking the dull, near-numb ache you’ve been feeling, and you start to cry. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” you whisper.

He pulls you closer, so close you’re all but kneeling on his thigh, and he wraps you in the tightest hug you’ve ever felt. You close your eyes and breathe him in — the scent of weed, of patchouli, of wood and musk — and you wish that instead of not existing you could instead exist just right here for the rest of your life.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, babe.” He draws long, soothing lines along your spine with his fingers, but doesn’t release you. “But one thing I’ve learned in my eleventy billion hours of therapy is that strong doesn’t negate hurt.”

“Am I a coward for even considering the easy way out?”

That makes him release you, but only so far as to meet your gaze again. “Don’t you ever call yourself a coward.” Still crying, his expression is dark now, almost angry, but with a kind of softness behind it. “Would you think that if our roles were reversed right now? If you’d been with me any time I considered fucking offing myself in the past?”

“No…”

“So don’t you say that about yourself. You are not a coward.” He runs his fingers under your eyes, wiping away your tears. “I need you to understand that you’re not wrong for feeling this way, okay? I know it. I know it far too well. And I’m here with you.”

You sit that way for a bit, silent, but his hands resting still on your cheeks, yours on his shoulders. It should be awkward, but it feels…comforting. Grounding.

“Dee?”

“Yeah?”

You exhale heavily. “I think I need to talk to someone. Someone professional. And I want you there.”

He smiles, brushes your face with his thumbs, leans in and offers the lightest of kisses.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’m with you.”