#if anyone has any questions though my ask box is open!

[saritawolff]

More tags, adding on more length to this post (I hope this doesn’t become the new “do you love the color of the sky”)

You may be thinking of minks, which are another type of mustelid related to ferrets. Minks are bred in fur farms and fur farm minks are larger and softer than wild minks. Since they’re bred in human care, they do tend to be much tamer than a wild mink would be, however, they are not truly domesticated. They’re bred for size, color, softness, and ease of care in a fur farm setting, not for ease of care in a person’s house. Still, some people keep them as exotic pets. As they are semi-aquatic, they require access to water deep enough to submerge in at all times, a varied diet, and a rigorous enrichment program. These are things that can not be provided by a single household. I agree with your friend, if they were in fact talking about minks! If not though, ferrets are good alternative pets to keep but definitely require a specific type of person able to keep up with their enrichment needs and diet, as you’re probably not going to be using them to hunt rabbits.

No, it can take hundreds of generations for an animal population to have evolved enough to be considered domesticated. What you are thinking of is habituation. Habituation involves training an animal (whether intentionally or not) to lose its fear of humans. This is incredibly dangerous for the animal. Some habituated animals end up in zoos, but most end up needing to be euthanized for both the animals’ safety and human safety. It also leads to the spread of zoonotic diseases such as rabies and toxoplasmosis. I really hope you’re joking about luring foxes into your home.

Siberia is in Asia, and from what I read while researching for this, most can agree that dog domestication happened somewhere around there. I’m sure it would have been more Northern, as that’s where Pleistocene Wolves would have been ranging.

I don’t think we can truly ever get an exact area though. All the other animals on this list were domesticated during or after the advent of civilization. Dogs were domesticated when humans were still migratory hunter-gatherers, which is just wild to me.

There is actually a type of sheep called the European Mouflon, which were descended from feral sheep (similar to how wild hogs are descended from feral pigs). I worked with some at one point and they are insane. I can not imagine how the first round-up of truly wild Armenian Mouflon went.

Thank you for pointing this out it’s literally my favorite scientific name

I would be up for it as long as any educators contact me first, after which I can send them the high-res images. I don’t like my stuff being used without permission. I’d also want some time to correct issues I’m already noticing (I forgot to add blood sport for chickens and also the afformentioned misleading way I seemed to include spider ball pythons as a breed rather than an example of unethical breeding).

Phew. This one took, uh… a bit longer than expected due to other projects both irl and art-wise, but it’s finally here. The long-awaited domestic animal infographic! Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough space to cover every single domestic animal (I’m so sorry, reindeer and koi, my beloveds) but I tried to include as many of the “major ones��� as possible.

I made this chart in response to a lot of the misunderstandings I hear concerning domestic animals, so I hope it’s helpful!

Further information I didn’t have any room to add or expand on:

🐈 “Breed” and “species” are not synonyms! Breeds are specific to domesticated animals. A Bengal Tiger is a species of tiger. A Siamese is a breed of domestic cat.

🐀 Different colors are also not what makes a breed. A breed is determined by having genetics that are unique to that breed. So a “bluenose pitbull” is not a different breed from a “rednose pitbull”, but an American Pitbull Terrier is a different breed from an American Bully! Animals that have been domesticated for longer tend to have more seperate breeds as these differing genetics have had time to develop.

🐕 It takes hundreds of generations for an animal to become domesticated. While the “domesticated fox experiment” had interesting results, there were not enough generations involved for the foxes to become truly domesticated and their differences from wild foxes were more due to epigenetics (heritable traits that do not change the DNA sequence but rather activate or deactivate parts of it; owed to the specific circumstances of its parents’ behavior and environment.)

🐎 Wild animals that are raised in human care are not domesticated, but they can be considered “tamed.” This means that they still have all their wild instincts, but are less inclined to attack or be frightened of humans. A wild animal that lives in the wild but near human settlements and is less afraid of humans is considered “habituated.” Tamed and habituated animals are not any less dangerous than wild animals, and should still be treated with the same respect. Foxes, otters, raccoons, servals, caracals, bush babies, opossums, owls, monkeys, alligators, and other wild animals can be tamed or habituated, but they have not undergone hundreds of generations of domestication, so they are not domesticated animals.

🐄 Also, as seen above, these animals have all been domesticated for a reason, be it food, transport, pest control, or otherwise, at a time when less practical options existed. There is no benefit to domesticating other species in the modern day, so if you’ve got a hankering for keeping a wild animal as a pet, instead try to find the domestic equivalent of that wild animal! There are several dog breeds that look and behave like wolves or foxes, pigeons and chickens can make great pet birds and have hundreds of colorful fancy breeds, rats can be just as intelligent and social as a small monkey (and less expensive and dangerous to boot,) and ferrets are pretty darn close to minks and otters! There’s no need to keep a wolf in a house when our ancestors have already spent 20,000+ years to make them house-compatible.

🐖 This was stated in the infographic, but I feel like I must again reiterate that domestic animals do not belong in the wild, and often become invasive when feral. Their genetics have been specifically altered in such a way that they depend on humans for optimal health. We are their habitat. This is why you only really see feral pigeons in cities, and feral cats around settlements. They are specifically adapted to live with humans, so they stay even when unwanted. However, this does not mean they should live in a way that doesn’t put their health and comfort as a top priority! If we are their world, it is our duty to make it as good as possible. Please research any pet you get before bringing them home!

[sankttealeaf]

Hello there - I was wondering when did you first start liking durgetash? How did you get the inspo for your story? ps Im a huge fan ❤

hi anon!! thank u!! <3

the thing that dragged me headfirst into the depths of durgetash hell was the prayer for forgiveness! i went into the dark urge playthrough knowing very little! (started rue's run in early september but only got around to actually playing her in early october! (act 3 was lagging so bad on my first playthrough i needed to jump ship to simpler times)

seeing other peoples interpretations of their durge & gortash got me thinking a little more about rue & gortash and what they couldve been like! i went into rue's playthrough knowing i was going to romance gale and went woah, theres some similarities between the two there. rue has a type!

(fun fact: my first tav playthrough & the beginnings of my durgetash era overlapped so when i got to meet gortash as my tav, cassiopeia, i was only slightly taken in by him. did not trust him at all, though. stupid man)

i think i love the tragedy of it all. no matter what relationship your durge has with gortash, its still one of closeness. and to have someone you worked hard with ripped from you, only to return now wanting to destroy everything youve made? thats gotta hurt.

as for my fic it kind of started as a series of one shots i started writing, never really with the intent to publish them! i wanted to work out how rue acted before the tadpoling and how different she was then!

the original plan was just a collection of moments shared between rue and gortash throughout their time together. back then rue was still called rue, i hadnt given her another name to further separate her life before & after being tadpoled. i also really wanted to make little letters and notes that you find in the game to go along with the writing. however i only ever made gortash's initial request for a meeting.

(as u can see below. i thought it was a cool concept. no idea how i wouldve fully executed it though)

then it sort of spiralled from there! what if rue and enver were friends as kids? what if they keep finding each other over and over again? what if they always fall to the same fate? i love tragic romances, friendships that are doomed to fail, relationships that can only end one way, so it was very fun to explore all this with them!!

the title was originally a title from a one shot i started writing about them. i think the phrase "let sleeping dogs lie" is very them - after all, why disturb what is a peaceful alliance? why ruin it by admitting feelings or saying words they shouldnt? also dog imagery & rue go hand in hand (despite me saying she's cat coded)

i had key events planned from the start that i wanted to happen, the main thing being how rue lets down her guard over the course of their friendship & how that becomes her downfall!

i also wanted to use this as a way to not only explore rue and gortash, but rue and orin, too!! it meant i could write in their povs, get into their brains and work out why they do what they do! i love villainous characters and finding out the root cause behind their actions (im currently running a curse of strahd dnd game and did the exact thing for strahd - writing up his motivations and intentions to give me better access into his headspace & why he acts like he does!)

at the start i never really intented to publish it on ao3. i added the little prologue after writing the second chapter, and then i decided to bite the bullet and post it! i made this account to share my writing, why not do that!!

im still a little in shock at how many people have enjoyed reading it & especially how many people love rue. ive never written any oc x canon before so it was a little scary putting her out there for the world to see!! sometimes i get that little voice in my head that goes "gr. youre being cringe" and i have to bap it away before it can rot my brain. im allowed to have silly characters and make them kiss other characters - no one can stop me!!

this got a little longer than i intended, but thanks anon!! <3 i hope this has been a lil insightful about the behind the scene of my very chaotic brain behind this fic! its all ive been thinking about for 6ish months now (oh gods)

[peachylynnie]

gift exchange

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in which you get sick on christmas, and sylus is there to make it better.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (not dating but sylus is down bad), christmas themes, a singular reference to his myth, a singular reference to grassland romance, mentions and consumption of food, suggestive themes, cursing, angst, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick. again. on christmas too. you know what that means. sylus time! on a related note, i hope everyone had a wonderful christmas. my rafayel fic is gonna upload soon as well. enjoy! reblogs and comments always welcome! do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism.

you curse as you rip open a hot chocolate packet. "sick on christmas," you grumble as you pour the contents into a mug. "how the fuck is that even possible."

of course, anyone can get sick at any time. it's inevitable. but, seriously? of all the days the pain in your throat and ears could have appeared, it just HAD to be on fucking christmas day. sure, it's not like you had any plans. normally you would celebrate with grandma and caleb by feasting on countless dishes and singing christmas songs from an old karaoke machine caleb swears isn't broken. but they're not around anymore.

you sigh miserably as you trudge over to the water dispenser for hot water, not wanting to think about your lost family. as you press the button for hot water, you lean against the dispenser, trying to figure out what you're going to do for the rest of the day. you were planning on visiting the market to make a nice dinner or perhaps order takeout at your favorite restaurant. but those are no longer viable options since your throat is killing you and your ears are incessantly burning. maybe you can order delivery? but that means you're going to have to clean up afterward, and you did NOT want to clean anything at the moment, especially with the state you're in.

shaking your head, you bring your mug back to the kitchen counter and search for a spoon.

"water for hot chocolate? i'm disappointed, sweetie."

you jump, an "oh, fuck!" leaving your mouth. sylus had materialized in front of you, a plastic bag in his left hand and a present box in his right. not like you noticed though. you were too startled by his sudden appearance. "what the fuck, sylus?! can't you knock?!"

"no," he deadpans, placing the bag and box on the kitchen counter. his fingers make quick work of untying the double knot on the bag. "besides," he spares you a glance. "i don't think someone who uses water to make their hot chocolate deserves a knock."

you roll your eyes. of course he fixates on that and doesn't explain why he's in your crappy apartment slandering you instead of downing at LEAST three glasses of wine in his luxurious penthouse on christmas day too. "well, screw me for being lazy, i guess," you mumble, crossing your arms.

"don't tempt me."

"huh?"

"what?"

you shoot him a look before grabbing your mug and heading to the other side of the kitchen counter. sitting on your squeaky high chair, you ask, "why are you here, sylus?"

he takes out a styrofoam container and opens its lid. immediately, the comforting smell of miso greets you. as sylus opens a cabinet to retrieve a pot (you don't question how he knows where to find it), you try to look at what else is in the plastic bag. tilting your upper body, you notice another container and hope it has some rice inside. what you don't notice is sylus' breath hitching when he turns back to you after pouring the miso soup into the pot and turning on the stove.

you were wearing a nice, loose top in your favorite color. except, its neck portion was completely cut off, leaving your collarbone and shoulders deliciously exposed. and because you were leaning on your side to take a look at what he had brought you (he loves when you're curious about anything involving him), the sleeve was slowly yet surely sliding down your arm, threatening to show a cup of your bra.

sylus instantly turns back to the stove, even though the miso soup shows no signs of boiling. rubbing a hand over his face, he shakes his head. no, he's not here to ogle at you (the top looks really good on you, and fuck, did your bra cup your breasts really nicely). he's here to take care of you. earlier, mephisto alerted him you were taking some cough drops. and knowing you, you probably didn't have any food on hand to sustain you through your sickness, given his last (secret) visit to your apartment to stock your (empty) fridge. taking a deep breath, sylus returns to the kitchen counter, reaching for the other container. he notices your inquisitive eyes.

"i'm here because it's christmas." he opens the container, and to your delight, it's omurice. marveling at how fluffy the omelette looks and how savory the fried rice appears, you almost miss his answer.

"huh?" you frown. "you're here because it's christmas?"

"is that not what i just said?" sylus jests as he plates the omurice and places it in your microwave.

"well," you start carefully. "shouldn't you have better things to do? like take luke and kieran shopping or pop open another bottle of wine because woo! christmas!"

the silver-haired man shakes his head with a chuckle, propping his hands on the kitchen counter. you try not to focus on his exposed forearms too much. forget the omurice and miso soup; you'll take his arms instead.

"first of all, luke and kieran are busy—"

"on christmas?!"

"yes, sweetie, on christmas." he raises a brow at you for interrupting. you drag your sleeve back up sheepishly.

"second of all, what makes you think i haven't already indulged in a bottle of wine today?" he tilts his head and crosses his arms, gazing at you with a hint of amusement in his ruby eyes.

you pout and look away. "fair point, i guess."

enjoying your cute reaction, sylus returns his attention to the stove. pleased to find the miso soup boiling, he turns off the stove and takes out a bowl from your cabinet (again, how does he know where to find that?). using a ladle to pour into the bowl, he hums a little tune. you try not to snicker at how terrible he sounds. after sliding a bowl of soup and a plate of omurice to you, sylus plants his elbows on the counter and rests his chin on a palm, allowing him a perfect view of his beloved (though you don't know you're his beloved yet; luke and kieran called him a loser before getting their asses handed to them).

"uh," you look at sylus, then at the food, and then sylus again. "you're not going to eat?"

he shakes his head. "i already ate before coming here."

hesitantly, you pick up your utensils. "you know you technically haven't answered my question, right?"

"i'll tell you once you finish." sylus responds immediately. it's almost as if he knew what you were going to say.

no longer wanting to torture your stomach, you cut into the omurice and take a bite. "mmm!" you cover your mouth as you chew. the softness of the egg, the savoriness of the fried rice—oh, you're in heaven. "this tastes really good, sylus!" you take a sip of the miso soup as well. not only does the warm broth soothe your throat, but the spice that comes with it clears up your sinuses, ceasing the burn in your ears.

the man in front of you can't help but smile at the sight. you, in your most vulnerable, beautiful state, enjoying his cooking. he could die a happy man here. and it wouldn't be the first time his cause of death is you. not that he minds or anything.

"thank you, sylus." you take a few more bites before swallowing. "seriously, i needed this."

"i know, sweetie," he says gently. "i know."

you glare at him, but not with as much malice as you used to. "did mephisto snitch on me or something?"

sylus lets out a laugh before grabbing the present box and joining you on the other side of the counter. "he simply saw a poor little hunter in need of some saving."

"since when does being sick mean needing saving?" you mutter as you set your utensils down, having finished the meal. you make a mental note to ask where he got the food. you're definitely going to visit wherever this exquisite meal came from (the man sitting next to you would die if he knew you wanted to visit his place).

sylus hands you the present box, causing your eyes to widen as you finally process its existence. "merry christmas, sweetie."

instead of accepting it, you jump out of your seat and dash to your room, though not without yelling a "wait here!" your heart beats rapidly as you open your closet door, your eyes landing on a small box wrapped in glossy black paper. yes, you were planning on spending christmas alone. yes, you were planning on giving this to sylus as nonchalantly as possible AFTER christmas (as much as he infuriates you, you still wanted to gift him something. why? you're not sure). and yet, here you are, holding the gift to your chest as you sprint back to the kitchen. "here," you pant as you thrust your gift into his lap. "merry christmas, sylus."

now it's his turn to be surprised. peering at what you just put in his lap, sylus can't help but blush profusely. you gifted him something. you actually gifted him something. you went out of your way to buy something for him. you thought of him. sylus brings a hand to his mouth, his fingers gripping the sides of his face hard. oh, you're too much. it's taking him everything to not crash himself into you and hold you tightly with his arms, to press himself so deeply into you until there is no chance in heaven or hell you could be separated from him.

"sylus?" you snap him out of his thoughts. "you okay?"

he blinks. "ah." releasing his face from his grip, sylus looks at you with a composed smile. "i'm alright, sweetie. thank you for the gift," he says as he starts unwrapping.

"it's not much," you say shyly. "thank you for your gift too. i'll open it after you finish opening yours."

sylus nods as he opens the box. his lips part when he finds what lies inside. a pair of black gloves, thermal lined with genuine fleece and adorned with adjustable straps. but most importantly, embroidery by your hands. he could recognize your handiwork anywhere thanks to your previous adventure in the grasslands. the white dove delicately sewn into the wrist of the right glove and the initials of his name intricately engraved into the wrist of the left. the man can't help but smile for the umpteenth time tonight. you really were something else.

"i noticed you wear fingerless gloves whenever you ride your motorcycle," you start as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. "as stylish as they are, mr. sylus," you tease. "i think it's better to have gloves that keep you warm during late-night joyrides, especially now since it's winter." finding the courage to grin at him, you conclude your explanation with, "merry christmas, sylus."

sylus swears he sees an angel sitting next to him. how could you not be an angel? with the way you're smiling at him right now? and the amount of thought you put into this gift? (he's trying not to obsess over the fact that you observe him whenever he rides his motorcycle.) the head of onychinus has never believed in angels. but now, he does. thanks to you.

"thank you, sweetie," he tries to say as calmly as possible. "i will cherish them." when he attempts to put the gloves on, you stop him.

"wait, you don't need to put them on yet! you're going to get hot."

"it's fine," sylus assures as he secures the straps. "i want to."

"okay," you flush, happy that he likes the gift. "let me open yours now."

you wonder why his box is so heavy as your fingers rip off the tape. a gasp escapes your mouth as the wrapping paper falls to the ground. "sylus," you tremble. "i can't accept this."

a record player. a sleek, gorgeous record player with an obsidian platter, supported by a mahogany base and a crystal case. you stroke the tonearm, dragging your index finger all the way to the headshell and relishing in the cool feeling the metal provides. "sylus…" you trail off.

"there's more, sweetie." he murmurs. out of thin air, sylus materializes several vinyls with his evol. your eyes widen, recognizing the images that lie at the center of each disc.

"oh my god, sylus!" your favorite band, he got you vinyl records of each album from your favorite band. they've never even had vinyl records before. holy fucking shit. "sylus!" you chant excitedly, leaping into him as you wrap your arms around his neck. "sylus! you shouldn't have! oh my god!"

you jump up and down eagerly, leaving the man stunned in his chair. his arms are outstretched, unsure what to do for the first time ever. you freeze, realizing the position you are in. "oh uh," you quickly retract from him, a red hue forming on your cheeks. "sorry about that." you go to sit back down in your chair, but sylus doesn't let you. he pulls you back to him with an arm around your waist and a hand at the back of your head. standing at full height, the head of onychinus hugs you tightly, so tightly it's as if he never wants to let you go. you hesitate before returning the hug, questioning the man's motives. but he doesn't say or do anything. just stands embracing you. realizing he bears no ill will, you pat his back playfully. "you know i'm sick, right?"

his grip doesn't loosen. "yes, i know."

"you're going to get sick, sylus," you tease, trying to pull away. as much as you appreciate his warmth, the last thing you want is for him to get sick. just the thought of it strikes fear in your heart. you're not sure why. "come on, let go."

sylus sighs before untangling his arms and sitting back down. he'll give in for now. besides, he wouldn't trade that elated look on your face when he revealed the records for anything in the world. he supposes he can enjoy such a view some more.

you giggle excitedly as you examine the vinyl records. "oh, should i play this one first? oh, what about this one? no way! you got this one too?!"

as always, you don't catch the woozy, lovesick smile that appears on sylus' face as he folds his arms and leans back to admire you. if this is what christmas with you is going to look like in the future, sylus desperately hopes you'll spend every christmas with him from now on. but, just to be sure, because nothing is guaranteed in the future, he follows your example and says for the second time of the night, "merry christmas, sweetie."

[wolfish-trickster]

A thought/imagine

Okay so imagine you're in some small town looking through shops for new weapons. Astarion notices your interest in some daggers and as a dagger expert he wants to flaunt and impress you with his knowledge. However when he gets within the hearing distance he hears the shop owner telling you about the dagger you're currently holding: specialized to kill vampires.

Astarion expects you to put it down immediately, especially after his confession and all that. So imagine how his heart completely shatters when you keep holding it and even ask how much the shop owner wants for it.

Back in the camp he acts as if nothing happened of course, if he acted out he could give you a reason to kill him sooner than you planned. His thoughts have been killing him the entire time tho. Has he done something wrong? Something that has upset you? Is there a way to bring him on your good side again? When are you going to test out your new blade? This night? Next?

He just kept replaying the past few weeks, looking for any actions or words that may have upset you. He found nothing except for stopping sleeping with you. Maybe that's it? Is he really back to square one? Well, he has been sleeping with people to save his skin for the past two hundred years, he could power through it a bit longer if he had to. Even though it made his heart ache. He thought you'd be different. He hoped you'd be.

As he was planning his new proposition for you, as if on a cue you come up to him, smiling, giving him a neatly wrapped box. You push it into his hands, asking him to open it. With distrustful eyes never leaving your hands tucked suspiciously behind your back he unwraps the box and opens it. When you ask him what he thinks he finally takes the risk and looks down into the box.

He expected you to strike right then. But you kept standing without any movement. So was he, from pure surprise and also confusion.

The dagger you bought earlier that day, the special one for vampires, was laying in the box on a bed of red rose petals. Like in a pool of blood.

"I thought it would fit perfectly into Cazador's throat," you say.

He's speechless. After all he's been through with you, the nice and the ugly, you only ever wanted the best for him. This gift solidified it.

He loved you. Truly. Fully. Forever.

Without words he hugs you, uses all his willpower to not sob into your shoulder. In all his existence he has never trusted anyone more than you. Someone who saw him as a person. Who cared for him. Who gave him random trinkets because they remind her of him. Who just bough the perfect weapon that could rid her aff all Astarion's burdens and life problems he shared with her, and gifted it to him with a nice bow on the top.

He will never doubt or question you again.

"Yes my darling, this will indeed make the perfect necklace for that bastard."

[ardienothesieno]

taking notes on the hermitcraft charity livestream for my friend @pookapufferfish and also just anyone else who had to miss it 👍

these are going to be all over the place lol

i started my note-keeping like an hour or so into the stream so i dont have a lot of stuff from the beginning...

but: grian and scar opened the stream, showed off some of the items up for auction (like real wild life snails. i want one so bad but they're MASSIVELY out of my price range...)

POST-POSTING EDIT: I FORGOT THERE WAS AN IMP AND SKIZZ PODCAST. it wasnt really a traditional podcast though, martyn was asking them questions, a group of hermits would vote on who they thought had the best answer, and whoever lost got shocked by grian.

my most notable takeaway from the shock-cast is that if impulse could have any superpowers he'd want control over time, and skizz would want the ability to heal people. mmm yes food for the superhero aus

and then ren busted out this custom hermitcraft guitar that's also up for auction and played a song by green day

and then we got treebark content.martyn and ren ran the main stream for like 20 minutes

also we hit ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS really freaking fast. and they spun the wheel of chaos and it landed on ✨hermit boxing✨

ROBO-CLEO

okay now all that follows is liveblogging

i keep recognizing people in chat. like not even from mcyt spaces ive seen like three people who i know from skurry streams

martyn using they/them for cleo pog!!

THERE'S A JELLIE MURAL IN THE MINECRAFT OFFICE AWWW

irl guess the build / drawing... drawing things on whiteboards or building things and then guessing

cub is wearing a bob ross wig.

jimmy has built skizz's giraffe...

SKIZZ GIRAFFE REDEMPTION ARC GOES HORRIBLY WRONG

pearl has gorgeous handwriting

grian has obtained a cat keyboard and jimmy is beatboxing along

GEM GIRAFFE REDEMPTION ARC GOES INCREDIBLY RIGHT

they're gonna auction off the terrible drawings. i want one.

round two of guess the drawing / build has the most unhinged prompts ever. including the cursed creature mumbo built in the last permitmaster

it has gone off the rails incredibly fast

grian is just torturing everyone with nerf guns and whoopie cushions

jimmy is left handed

martyn's doing a dollar drive and it's not letting me donate because it doesnt take debit cards. now i need to somehow convince my dad to let me use his credit card... i'll pay him back but. gah. the hassle.

pearl and some person fighting in the background (who was apparently karn, her partner!)

TWO HUNDRED THOUSANDDDDDDDDDDDDD

joe and cub are boxing!! cub is still dressed like bob ross

it's been like 20 minutes and martyn is still going strong with the name reading. and about 30,000 dollars have been raised in that time alone

dimension 20 reference!

martyn's free from yelling names for now... in half an hour we raised SEVENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS

zed and tango hosting the QUIET GAMESSSSSSS. 3 teams of two, imp and gem, ren and skizz, GRIAN AND JIMMYYYY. basically just a bunch of weird minigames where you have to be as quiet as possible. scored on how quiet you are and how well you do

first minigame is moving marbles with spoons but the spoons are attached to a cowbell

gem and impulse did good. skizz and ren did better then i expected. jimmy and grain instantly dissolved into anarchy. jimmy and grian had the most marbles, skizz and ren were surprisingly the quietest

okay the next game is so weird. knocking around ping pong balls with party popper blow kazoo things. but you hold the kazoo for your partner so it's weirdly intimate

someone in the chat described it as nightmare blunt rotation and that the most accurate description yet

someone else in chat has named skizz and ren team rizz and i hate everything

also i realize now that if theyd have done this with commonly shipped pairs the fandom would never shut up

despite the absolute chaos that was happening grian and jimmy won that round on both number of balls and quietness. grian may have slapped jimmy at one point. (he totally did)

the last one is EVEN MORE COMPLICATED. one person blindfolded navigating a minefield of bubblewrap and rubber chickens. another with jingle bells on their ankles and a big stick to smack their partner around.

gem immediately has grabbed the big stick with an evil look on her face

impulse is INCREDIBLY clumsy and gem is just whaling on him

"IT'S ALL BUBBLES!!!?!?" -- impulsesv

ren and skizz have a STRATEGY

ren is doing adorable little shuffley step-steps. "Robo-penguin Ren... Renguin" -- Zedaph

JIMMY IS MOUTHING "HELP ME" OMG.... GRIANS GOING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM...

but theyve got the best strategy yet actually grian's only kinda beating the shit out of jimmy... they might win this...

GRIAN AND JIMMY TAKE THE WHOLE THING HOME!!!!!!!! SKYBLINGS VICTORY!!!!!!! THE ONE NO ONE EXPECTED!!!!!!

wheel spin for 200,000 landed on "tortilla slap challenge" whichll be weird

the artworks from guess the build have gone up on the auction site and scar is very horrified over something skizz drew... a "sentient sock" that looks very... sus.

speed TCG time!!!!!!! i dont know much about TCG so im gonna try and maybe try and study a bit during this part (also also every 1000 dollars donated each player gets an extra item card)

joe is doing live TCG sound effects

neither joe or ren cant flip a coin to save their lives

pearl v cub. ren v joe. ren v cub.

TCG IS TOO CHAOTIC I CANT FOCUS ON TRIGONOMETRY LIKE THIS

also i need to learn how to play this it looks so fun

this is HEATED. and ren keeps getting armor stands and is so pissed about it

REN TAKES THE VICTORY!!! and they raised like 20,000 dollars in the process holy cow "THIS IS THE MOST EXPENSIVE GAME OF TCG EVER TO BE PLAYED" -- Joe Hills

ONE MILLION DOLLARS RAISED FOR GAMERS OUTREACH IN TOTAL

THREE HUNDRED THOUSANDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

300k wheel spin has unlocked NERF GUNSSSSS

also it's "donate x amount of dollars get your name on a sign on hermitcraft" time

cleobot is back!

scar is having a fantastic time running the main stream

GRIAN HAS COME IN AND BARRAGED SCAR WITH BULLETS.

it's tortilla tiiiiiiiiiiime

twich has a personal vendetta against me. it gives me ads right when the exciting things are starting.

scar is apparently on the board of directors at gamer's outreach now!!

IMPULSE V JIMMY. a draw. they are both invulnerable to tortillas.

TANGO V ZED. tango loses through laughter

IMPULSE V ZED. zed didnt get a single slap on impulse. a draw.

also all the hermits really really like to play scissors. in rock paper scissors.

"she removed both of my heads from my body..." -- RentheDog

THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTING (ren and false)

SKIZZ V GRIAN TORTILLA FIGHT. skizz wins lolol

...im buying a sign

gem signed pearl's ankle.

OKAY I GOT REALLY DISTRACTED FROM MY LIVEBLOGGING. THERE WAS WAR. THERE WAS A MASSIVE NERF GUN WAR. IT INTERRUPTED THE SIGN PLACING.

and yeah... i bought a sign <3

but i dont even know how to cover the half of the nerf war. but there was a lot of hotguy and cuteguy action

grian was even using two pistols instead of a bigger nerf gun... just like cuteguy in ddvau... omg...

at one point scar became a tank. and jimmy wheeled him behind enemy lines and he sniped four people and won the round

and theyre starting to wrap up now, martyn's doing another dollar drive. we're at $375,000...

everyone is signing the pc in the background of martyn's mad line-spitting

TEN HOUR MARK

we need 10,000 dollars... then we'll hit 400k and martyn can rest his vocal cords...

SPARKBIRD GOT MENTIONED

since it's been brought up like 13 times on the stream today. hey. you. you, the person reading this. you just lost the game :3

FOUR HUNDRED THOUSANDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

holy cow. that wraps up day one!!!!

im gonna reblog this post in a bit with all the screenshots i took. because i took a lot of them lol.

link to my day two liveblog

[aphroditesmoon]

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.' 

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

[sofiawritesstuff]

Platonic

part 6

summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He turns to the person the trust most in this world for help.

pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader

warnings: none

part 5

AN: Before we start I do want to say that I’m sorry for how this story has turned out, I’m lowkey hating it but i will come back with a better story soon. If anyone has any longer stories they would like to see, then please leave it in my submissions box, in my comments and/or feel free to message me privately. I also apologies about the wait for this. Sorry guys and thank you.

--

Lando had woken first, the light of the early morning sun filtered through the curtains. He stretched over you, smiling to see you still asleep against him.

He kissed your head before sneaking out of bed, this was the first morning in a while that Lando woke up feeling refreshed and confident for the race, he was also early, early enough to make you breakfast.

He reached for the t-shirt that lay on the floor beside him before trotting his way to the kitchen. He began by making you both coffee before moving onto toast.

"Good morning" you said with a smiles, your voice still rough from just waking up "Well hello there princess, what woke you up?" he asks holding your hand that wrapped around his waist from behind

"The beautiful smell of coffee, and the cold bed. You're up early is everything okay?" you question, resting your head on his back "I'm feeling so good, about today, I got the best sleep last night, we've got so much time before we need to leave too" he smiles buttering your toast and sticking it in your mouth

You smile, taking it out your mouth “I’m glad” you say chewing covering a hand over your mouth “Are Max and Pietra awake?”

“I don’t think so” he smiles leaning down to kiss you

Neither you or Lando had mentioned all the kisses throughout the weekend, the ones in public and in private, but you were both enjoying whatever was going on.

“So today, I was thinking of wearing my new white summer dress, what do you think?” you tell him, sitting on the chair next to him “The one that you ordered last week?”

“Yeah”

“That’s nice, I like that” he nods pulling your legs up on top of his

--

Lando had decided to match your all white outfit today, he held your hand tightly entering the paddock, pulling you closer to him as people rushed by.

You could sense the rise of Lando's nerves, in attempt you comfort him you put your free hand on his bicep

"How are you feeling today Mr Pole Sitter?" Ted Kravitz asks walking up to you both with the camera crew in front of you "Feeling good, hopefully can perform well enough to get the win, got a lot of support here so it would be good to put a smile on peoples faces”

“And you’ve also got that support of your lovely best friend too” he nods and you and you smile at him “Yeah I love having my girlfriend at races with me, she’s my biggest supporter so”

“Oh i’m sorry i didn’t realise that you were finally in a relationship” he apologises “congratulations to you both”

You both thank him before heading into the McLaren garage, stopping to say hello to everyone

"I'm glad to see you here, I've missed you the full weekend" Will smiles opening his arms "Glad to see you too" you hug him "Stealing my girlfriend now are we?" Lando jokes wrapping an arm around your waist

"Wouldn't dream of breaking you two up, feeling good about today?" he asks Lando "Good aren't you" you answer before Lando says something negative "Yep all good" he rolls his eyes "Hey! I'm going to the bathroom, make sure I've not got moody Lando" you kiss him before leaving him with Will

"You're kissing now" Will smirks "I mean, yeah" Lando shrugs "There's no cameras about" the engineer pushes "We've actually had a few kisses back home" Lando says hiding a smile

"Well it's been a long time coming, just make sure your heads in the game today. I'm happy for you though" he pats Lando's shoulder "Trust me, that girl is the reason I'm feeling even the littlest bit confident today"

"Really?" Will asks turning to face him "Well yeah, she's the only one that really understands me. I just love her so much" he blushes

"So you're in love with her"

"What? No I'm not?" Lando scoffs "The way you talk about her is the way I first talked about my wife, now we have a child together. You need to realise how you feel about her without people telling you"

"And if I admitted I was in love with her?"

"Then you should tell her, the way she looks at you is the way Hayley looked at me. Get yourself ready mate"

Lando sighed, looking at Will one last time before heading to his drivers room where you were sat "Hi pretty boy, I've left your shirt out, your hats there too" you point to his chair

"Thank you, are you going to chill in here until the race?" he asks taking his shirt off "Yeah, I'm going to wait on Max and Pietra. I'll be watching"

"Good, I'll see you later. Let me know if you're going anywhere" he says leaning down "I will" you lean up to kiss him "Bye" he shouts leaving the room

-

As it got closer to lights out Lando walked around the garage talking to everyone he needed to, he sat with Will for a while before he needed to get into the car.

As he approached you, you knew what was coming. The dreaded moment you had before every single race.

“Be safe, I love you” you tell him, wrapping your arm around his waist “I promise I will. I love you too” he says holding out his pinky finger. You link yours with his and both of you kiss your hands.

He hugs you tightly, kissing your head before moving down to your lips.

“Come home”

“I always do” he winks before getting in the car

It never got any easier, it hadn’t since he first started in 2019. Watching him leave the garage not knowing what where he was going to finish after the race and your worst fear it he didn’t finish at all.

Max stood beside you, putting on a headset, in a selfish way you were glad he wasn’t racing anymore, it means you didn’t have to worry about two people, but you knew Max wished he continued, he could have made it to Formula 1.

“He’ll win” Max wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly “I know” you smile

“I just wish he knew that” he nods to Lando’s car on the screen “He’ll see what we see one day”

The race was tense, within the first lap six cars had locked up and people were losing positions. The upside to it was Lando keeping his place and Oscar moving up to P2, getting out of the mess without harm.

You could feel your heart beating against your chest, fighting to leave your body as the last lap of the race came closer.

Two laps to go.

He was seconds ahead of the cars behind him.

One lap to go.

The crew ran across to the pit wall, as Lando approached the final corner, as he crossed the line you could hear him screaming down the head set.

Your eyes filled up with tears, you turned to Max as he engulfed you in a hug jumping up and down.

As he came down the pit lane, you threw your head set off, pushing through the crowd of papaya to the front where Zak was.

He stood on the top of the car, throwing his hands in the air while everyone around you cheered. He took his helmet off running and jumping into the crowd of McLaren and eventually he was pulled to the other side of the barrier

“Where is she?” you saw Lando looking around, when he spotted you, he lifted you up hugging you tightly “I’m so proud of you Lando, you don’t know it”

“You’re the best, I love you, I love you so much”

“It was you that did it baby, get on the podium and get drenched in champagne”

He leans down kissing you before jumping over the barrier again. You let the nickname slip, you didn’t mean to say it but the way it made you feel was so good, it felt as if it was normal.

The media covered up how Lando felt about it, the way he was yapping in his interviews when the only thing he could think about was you and the nickname. “Baby” he wishes he could get used to that.

part 7

TAGS

@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313 @charli123456789 @alltoomaples @jule239 @panicsinvirgo @cmleitora @blueberry64857959 @imboredway2much @landoslutmeout @obxstiles @morenofilm @formula1mount @dreamercrowd @brekkers-whore @sialexia @bokutos-babyowl @merchelsea @lexiecamposv @lunamelona @nightlockcornucopia

[tales-from-elysivm]

★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★

ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

! this is a repost from my other blog !

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk. 

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”. 

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really. 

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins. 

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon. 

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school. 

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow. 

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be? 

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras. 

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

[celestie0]

hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

[storiesfromafan]

Rumours - Buck x Reader

A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.

Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes

Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”

Tag list: @strayrockette

When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.

They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.

Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.

Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.

“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".

“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".

“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".

That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.

Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.

If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.

You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.

“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.

“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.

There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.

“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".

You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.

Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".

That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.

They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.

“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”

You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”

“Bucky and I will stand up for you".

“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.

“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.

You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.

You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”

Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".

Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”

Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.

You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.

But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.

“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.

“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".

“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”

Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.

The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.

“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”

You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.

“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.

It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.

Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.

But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.

“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.

And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.

[whirlybirbs]

Fuck now I need to know what all the kids think about their favorite teachers and whether or not they ship them

oh, it's sickening.

i've mentioned before midorya being the biggest derecho/all might stan, but:

derecho retires from hero work after all might's injury — and quickly is recruited to teach the hero course at UA. she admittedly loves her job. she's that one teacher who everyone loves.

she's the staff lead in, like, six clubs at UA because kids kept asking her to be their faculty supervisor. she's always asked to be a chaperone prom. she's the one teacher they know won't say no to making stupid cameos in the festivals. one year, she hosted "mr. yuei" and "ms. yuei" back-to-back. she's active in the teaching union. essentially, derecho throws herself into teaching.

and mr. yagi is mr. yagi — he's fucking all might.

everyone knows the two of them worked alongside one another for years before both teaching at UA High, but there's something up.

something is definitely up.

they're always spotted walking to class together in the morning, he always appears in her class after the first bell with a cup of coffee for her. the two are frequently spotted chatting in the halls — and students pick up quick on the way they almost always have matching bento boxes for lunch... like someone is making two and bringing it to work. (it's toshi)

at first, everyone is too formal and too stuck on "omg it's all might" to ask him any probing questions. but, you know for fucking sure that derecho's class is up her ass about mr. all might. it's a lot of dreamy sighs from the girls when he arrives with a smile and a coffee in the morning, and a lot of skeptical staring from the boys.

aizawa figures it out quick.

midorya feels like he could explode every time anyone brings it up at lunch. (toshinori lets it slip to his pupil on complete accident; his phone goes off and derecho's contact name is, like, "LOVE OF MY LIFE!!! <33333" or some shit)

it is a huge lunch topic, especially when it's a no-bento day and the two chat happily in line with trays in hand. mr. yagi's hand on the small of her back. rushing to hold doors open for her. almost everyone at UA wishes they would just kiss already — they just don't know how much they're already kissing behind closed doors.

it's, like, the most sexually frustrating thing especially for bakugo who has been a derecho and all might shipper since he was, like, ten.

it slowly turns into a joke... like, little digs here and there that derecho starts making that could be taken as more if you squint. it gets harder to avoid the looks when the two of them are late one day — both bursting through the doors at the same time, looking half put together and definitely in yesterday's clothes.

(someone's alarm never went off.)

then, kamino happens. and everyone loses their fucking shit.

group chats blowing up with "YOUR HOME ROOM TEACHER JUST KISSED MY HOME ROOM TEACHER ON LIVE TELEVISION" and key smashes and it only makes bakugo's shame worse, because he feels as though their relationship is now out in the open because of him.

weeeeeeeeeeeee, i love them.

— a reference to this fic here ;

[copinghex]

Sincerely yours, me | T.S

Summary: Tommy receives anonymous gifts and letters. All the signs point to a single conclusion - he has a secret admirer.

The first gift was misinterpreted, as harmless as it could be, a man like Tommy wouldn't simply eat anything sent to him.

Sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, Polly waited for Tommy to get home. On the table, a delicate box from a nearby bakery and a letter caught everyone's attention, not only for the gesture but also the date.

If anyone would search for Thomas Shelby in city registers, all they'd find would be his army register, indicating his date of birth was 19th September, months earlier than the true date, a cold Wednesday morning of November. Whoever sent the gift was close enough to the family to not be fooled by the erroneous papers.

That day, Tommy entered the kitchen in quick steps, unconsciously or not, he always worked more on his birthday, not being particularly fond of celebrating.

“Is anything special about the age of thirty?” Polly asked.

“...no,” noticing the suspicious gifts on the table, Tommy reached for the letter, the envelope contained no information other than his own name, “who bought this?”

“No one, it was left at the door this morning,” she turned the box to show him the bakery’s name, “the place isn't cheap, they wouldn't leave it at the door without someone to collect it,”

“So someone ordered and left it at the door,” Tommy concluded.

“What does the letter say?”

The first thing Tommy noticed was the calligraphy, it wasn't neat nor horrendous. He could see the author tried their best to look nice.

Dear Tommy,

Originally, I was excited to write you this letter. Now that I have your cake and shall deliver it tomorrow, it makes me question if this was a good idea.

I believe birthdays are meant to be celebrated with those we have dearly. You seem to think otherwise, nevertheless, I hope you (and your family) enjoy the flavor I picked.

I wish I had bought you a gift as well, I had an eye on a pocket watch from a pawnshop in London, it'd seat nicely with a brown three piece you have, unfortunately my budget is not endless.

I hope you enjoy your birthday and wish you all the happiness, prosperity and good fortune.

Sincerely yours, me.

P.S I've taken notice I mentioned the cake spent a day in my house, if the thought ever crosses your head, do not worry, it cannot have spoiled, I kept it on the ice box all the time ♡

“So?” Polly questioned.

“Take a look at the calligraphy,” he handed her the letter, “does it look familiar?”

“Not at all, I can check in the books, but it's too neat to belong to any of our men, also there's a heart in the end,”

“Alright,” he sighed, “I want you to go to the bakery and ask who ordered it, then ask all the neighbors about the person who left it at the door, anything is useful,”

“Oh, for Christ's sake! I've things to do but to investigate a birthday cake!”

“Polly,” Tommy opened the box, “whoever sent this is watching from close, what do they plan to do with all this information? It can't be good,”

“Alright,” she sighed, “I'll ask, but I bet is nothing more than some of the neighbors’ daughters wearing her heart out for you,”

“Fucking finally,” John suddenly entered the kitchen, “Polly said we'd only eat when you arrived,”

“No one is going to eat,” he looked at the cake, the white topping could be easily deduced as vanilla while the bottom was chocolate.

“What?! Why not?”

“We don't know who fucking sent this, it can be poisoned,”

“Or someone wants to send a message,” Polly added.

“Or it's just fucking cake,” John argued, “ugh, forget it,”

As John left, Tommy threw the box in the trash, the light sweet scent rose up to his nose and looking superficially, it seemed like nothing but an innocently sent birthday gift. He wouldn't risk it though, if he was wrong about it, it'd be shameful to die over a piece of cake.

Weeks went by without further information, all the bakery was able to tell was that the person who made the order was a woman, nothing they hadn't already deduced. The dust settled, with no signs of danger or special dates coming by, nothing disturbed Tommy's routine.

The second gift was delivered by Scudboat, at the end of a shift in the betting shop he sneaked his head into Tommy's tiny office with a bulky envelope.

“Tom? I'm going home,” he said.

“See you tomorrow,” Tommy didn't lift his eyes from the papers on the desk.

“Someone left this on my desk today, it's for you,”

His shoulders dropped in a tired move, one more problem was everything he didn't need, “Who did? Did you see?”

“No, we had a full house today, I'm sorry, man,” Scudboat left.

First, a wooden horse fell from the paper. The delicate miniature wasn't bigger than a pocket watch, but the details revealed it was made by talented hands.

Dear Tommy,

Although throwing the whole cake away did offend me, I admit I'm the one at fault for this huge miscalculation, I have no enemies myself and yet, I'd be hesitant to eat something anonymously sent to my door.

Therefore, please accept this horse as a gift instead. It sat dusting up on my shelf for way too long, if you ask me, it resembles Monaghan boy.

Sincerely yours, me.

Tommy placed the miniature in the corner of his desk, it immediately set amongst his other belongings as if it was made to be there.

Slightly crumbling the paper, he fought the urge of ripping it apart, no harm was done and he couldn't find any subtle threats between the lines, but the thought of being observed made him tremble.

The possibility of someone being truly in love with him crossed his mind and was quickly shaken off. Tommy knew he wasn't lovable, at least not anymore, at most it must be infatuation from a stupid woman.

Putting the letter in a drawer, he carried on with his paperwork.

The third gift came three weeks later, when Tommy thought she had given up on him. A worn out bracelet he recognized from an Appleby fair, years ago he bought one for Greta Jurossi and managed to sneak up some more while the seller turned around to get his change. He remembered distributing them amongst her friends.

Those faces were all blurred in Tommy's memory now, shadows from a past that seemed so distant it felt like another life.

The envelope wasn't neat like the previous ones either, delivered by Ada herself, all she offered as explanation was an entertained smile and a “read the letter, Tom”

Relief washed over him learning that Ada was the one collecting information. The worry’s weight left his shoulders and then, the whole scenario felt as laughable as a joke.

Tommy,

It has come to my attention that my letters do you more harm than good. What a shame, I had planned to toy with you a while longer, but seeming it doesn't have the expected effect, I believe there's no option other than revealing myself.

I assure you I never intended harm and Ada was of great help in keeping an eye on you. Please, do not be upset at her, she was manipulated by having me watching Karl whenever needed.

Thomas, you are very dear to me, I've made it clear through the last few months, because of it, I'll be at the Garrison this Friday from 17:00 to 18:00, at the last table in the corner, we've never been complete strangers so you'll recognize me.

All I ask you is to not show up with selfish intentions, to mock me or satisfy your curiosity. I want to be someone close to you, someone you trust and perhaps like. If this possibility exists, come meet me, if your heart is permanently closed, I understand, but please do not come.

Sincerely yours, //////////

Tommy slowly put the letter down, the red scribbles where her name should be evoked sympathy within him. He imagined a simple girl, a silhouette between Greta's friends, switching pen colors and ruining the end of a tidy letter.

Lighting up a cigarette, he rubbed his tense brow, decisions that involved others were always harder and he doubted he'd get used to it someday.

He also couldn't deny curiosity was eating him alive, he needed to know who was sweet enough to look away from the atrocities he committed after France and still love the man he became.

Love, the word sounded so foreign to him he made a decision. He'd go to the encounter, even if he wasn't sure he wanted a relationship, having someone who loved him would be useful.

The week went by fast, around a quarter to five Tommy ordered everyone out of the Garrison, two cups and a whiskey bottle waited with him. He wouldn't define what he felt as excitement, perhaps satisfaction in finally closing that case.

Leaning on the counter, he stared at the doors, a hesitant shadow showed up on the glass panel, the knob moved down and a few seconds passed until she got in.

Her eyes widened seeing the pub empty, a shiver ran down her spine as her eyes met his squinted ones. She gulped, frozen at the entry. Tommy sized her up and his gaze softened, an afternoon tea at the Jurossi’s house years ago, he'd barely noticed her, apparently she had noticed him.

“You came,” she greeted.

“I was curious,”

“Tommy, I asked you to not-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, “it was brave of you to keep me in the dark for so long,”

“It was barely two months,”

“Could've been much more if so you decided,”

“Why would I? You didn't see to enjoy my… admiration at all,”

Pouring them drinks, Tommy called her to the counter. She shyly smiled as he handed her a glass and made a tiny toast.

“It was clever,” he complimented, “I recruit clever people,”

“So this is business focused?” she looked down, disappointed.

“Amongst other things,” with his glass, he lifted her chin, “I think we can achieve great things together,”

[reccyls]

Don't Look at Anything Except for Me (Victor story)

My translation of Victor's story for this collection event

---

Standing in the otherwise empty lounge was a tall box with a handle.

(It looks big enough to fit an entire person inside. I wonder what it's for.)

Just as I was going to open it...

Victor: Looks like you found it.

Surprised, I let go of the handle, and and approached the wryly smiling Victor.

Kate: What's this for?

Victor: A prop for my next magic trick!

He enthusiastically pulled open the box, revealing nothing inside. Just darkness.

Kate: It looks like just a normal box to me... What kind of magic trick can you do with this?

Victor: I'm very glad you asked! A trick where you can escape after being shut within a perfectly ordinary box.

Kate: Ooh, I've seen a magic trick like that before!

Victor: Since Vogel has arrived, I've been thinking about welcoming them with a little magic show. Victor: And I might as well take the chance to add a new trick to my repertoire.

Kate: Vogel did say that they want to build a closer relationship with us. Kate: I should also be talking more to the three of them!

(I am concerned about Harrison's warning, but it's important to know people, too.)

I suddenly realized Victor was staring at me...

Kate: What's wrong?

Victor: You're very kind. Always extending grace to anyone you meet, no matter who they may be. Victor: But... I want you to know more about Crown, as well.

Victor turned his gaze downwards, and his shoulders fell slightly. He looked lonely.

Victor: And of course, more about me, as well.

He gave me a playful wink, as if to say not to mind what he just said.

Victor: And now, to make sure I don't lose your attention, allow me to monopolize your time! Victor: I've never done this trick before, so I'd like your help to practice. How does that sound?

Ecstatic that he wanted to practice with me, I nodded vigorously.

Kate: Absolutely!

I stepped into the box, finding it wide enough to fit me comfortably.

Victor: There's a switch on the inside. If you flip it, the back panel should slide out so you can escape.

But inside the box, I couldn't find the switch.

Victor: The manual said it should be in there. Let me see...

Victor stepped forward, half his body leaning into the box. I watched him intently search for the switch, and then-

Kate: Ah, is that it?

Victor: ! Yes, that's the one!

Finding the slight knob, Victor met my eyes and smiled as he pushed it. And just then--

Victor: Eh?

Kate: Aah!

The door slammed shut, and trapped the two of us inside the box.

Victor: That was a shock... Kate, are you all right?

Kate: Yes, I'm fine...

(What do we do? He's way too close...!)

Our bodies were so close that I could hear the sound of his breathing clear as day. He had his hands pressed up against the back wall, so there was a bit of a gap. Perhaps it was due to the darkness, but I felt as though any slight movement in any direction would lead to us being pressed flush against one another.

Kate: Y-you know how to escape from the inside, right?

I tried to hide my nervousness with a question.

Victor: .......Unfortunately, I don't.

His answer was exactly what I didn't want to hear.

Victor: I thought that switch was supposed to be for that exact purpose. Victor: We may have no other choice but to wait until someone lets us out.

Kate: No way...

(Maybe if we press that switch again?)

Kate: Let's try pressing the switch again! I'm pretty sure it was somewhere around here...

Victor: Ahhh!

My finger poked into Victor's side, and he let out a yelp I'd never heard from him before.

Kate: S-sorry!

Victor: It's fine. I was just surprised, that's all.

Perhaps the cramped conditions were getting to be a bit too much for Victor, because he bent an arm. I stifled a gasp at how close we had become. A lock of his silky hair brushed across my cheek. His voice carried the soft texture of a cool night's air. For some reason, my face felt hot where his hair had fallen across it.

(If we don't get out right now... My heart isn't going to be able to take any more of this.)

I ran my hand along the wall again, in the hopes that I'd find something that could hasten our escape by even a single second.

Victor: Kate?

Kate: Maybe I can find the switch by touch.

Victor: That's a good idea, I'll try too-- !!

Kate: Ack!

Because of our movements, the box began to wobble, throwing me off balance. In a panic, I tried to stand, but only ended up with my legs around Victor's, almost as if straddling him.

Victor: Sorry for this. I'm going to try to get us out of here, but I'll need to move a little.

Kate: W-wait a second-- mm....

I tried to scramble for a better position, but there wasn't any space inside the cramped box. Victor's knee pressed between between my legs, digging right into where I was most sensitive...

(Oh no, I can feel my body start to respond--)

My toes curled as Victor's movements caushed his knee to continue to rub in between my legs. I gripped his shirt, trying to endure the sensations.

Kate: It's fine. Please stop moving.

Victor: !

I heard his breath catch, before his knee pushed me back.

Victor: ...I'm sorry.

As I looked up, there was an apologetic expression on his face. And then with a crash and a hard impact, throwing my face upwards. My lips brushed right against the mole at his lips.

Kate: --The door's open...?

Beyond Victor, I could see the familiar sights of the castle's lounge. Unsteadily, I made my way out of the box and collapsed on the spot out of pure relief.

Victor: Are you hurt?

I looked up at Victor's worried expression, his hand extended to me to help me up.

(Right at the very end, I almost kissed Victor...)

Embarrassed and uncomfortable, I couldn't meet his eyes as I took his hand.

Kate: ...I'm okay.

Victor: If we'd been stuck in there any longer, my heart might have exploded.

His tone was light as he turned to look back at the box. That was when I noticed.

(Huh...?)

Amidst his flowing black hair, his ears had turned faintly red.

(Maybe I'm wrong? But, if he realized what happened too...)

Victor: Kate?

The voice that called my name carried just a hint of seductiveness. And I could feel the heat we shared while trapped in the box stlil lingering.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Little ficlet inspired by the idea of DL Pearl being in Hermitcraft Pearl’s reflection from art made by @inkvild and @carpboy3000

Pearl just wants to make sure her hat is on straight before she meets up with Etho and Tango at the Post Office. So she turns to look in the mirror, the one Impulse had helped her put in to her farmhouse bedroom. Instead, she’s met with someone distressingly familiar.

“You shouldn’t trust them,” The haggard looking woman in the mirror coos, her voice artificially saccharin. Pearl startles back. She closes her eyes tightly and when she opens them again, she prays the woman will be gone. She’s not, of course. “Darling, don’t be afraid. It’s just me. It’s just you. It’s only ever just you,”

No. No, she can’t be hallucinating again. She hasn’t seen things that aren’t real since Limited Life, since BigB took painstaking hours to reintroduce her to what was real. And she only hears things in the games, when things are really dire. Not here. Not on Hermitcraft.

“You’re not real,” She says resolutely, the way BigB taught her to when she used to spend nights in Froggy Tower shaking at the sight of mocking eyes in the dark. She closes her eyes again. “I’m alone in my house on Hermitcraft. I’m safe. You’re not real,”

“You are alone, that’s for sure. It’s only you here,” The woman taunts. Her voice, so familiar and so full of pain. Pearl remembers that voice, remembers the way it coated her tongue and left an aftertaste like aspartame. “Why won’t you look at yourself?”

“Because you aren’t me,” Pearl steels herself. She begins to walk out of the room, eyes still closed. The voice calls back.

“But I am you, silly! Please just look at me? Please? Oh Pearly you know how lonely I am, don’t leave me too,” The mirror’s voice goes from sweet to desperate, begging. And who is Pearl to deny herself?

“You won’t kill me?” She asks, knowing the question will hurt. It hurt her once, too. The mirror makes a pained little gasp.

“Of course not! I don’t mean to hurt anyone. You believe me, don’t you? You didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to,” The mirror sounds frantic, near tears. She is standing in the Box and Ren is standing over her, calling her a demon. She stares down Joel’s blade and knows she was only playing, that she would have given him his chestplate back.

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, taking a proper look at her reflection.

It’s her. Or was. Or maybe somewhere deep inside still is.

The most prominent feature is her eyes. Red stares into blue. They are half lidded, exhausted and dull. There’s a scar over one of them that comes back in the games every time but does not follow Pearl into other worlds. It forces her left eye closed just slightly more than the right. The circles under them are so prominent that they look almost like bruises. It’s hard to sleep when you’re cold. Harder when the voices whisper from the dark. When the only thing you’re sure is real is the wolf pressing herself into your side. On Hermitcraft everyone skips a few nights of rest every now and then to work. Pearl forgets how much of a luxury it is to sleep at all.

Her brown hair is limp and oily, tangled and, Pearl knows though she can’t see, matted in places. There’s a big one in the back that tugged on her scalp when she ran with her hood up. At the time she found the small bursts of pain grounding. Now she runs her hand through her hair, taking off her hat for a moment, and breaths a sigh of relief when she doesn’t catch any knots at all.

And her clothes are dirty. Her shoes, socks, and shorts are all darkened from being soaked by powdered snow. The bandage wrapped around her knee has long since bled through. The white of her t-shirt is slightly yellowed by sweat. And that red hoodie, Pearl never took that hoodie off. The ends are soaked like her shorts, freezing cold. The rest of it is coated in dust and dirt from building or wandering the server, or blood from killing mobs and wolves nipping at her hands. Everywhere is dusted with grey fur. Pearl hadn’t bothered to put a shower in her base. She knows that the woman in her reflection must feel uncomfortable coated in so much grime. It took her five showers after she won to feel clean again. She took two a day for the rest of Season Nine just to prevent the feeling from coming back.

Pearl swallows, goes to wipe her sweaty palms on her slacks but cringes at the idea. Instead she wipes them on a towel she keeps hanging on the door, and straightens her (clean, they are clean, she keeps them washed and pressed and hung up neatly) uniform. She can’t see what she’s doing, can only see her past self watching her, but the motions are familiar.

“What do you want to tell me?” Pearl asks herself. The reflection tilts her head, and Pearl does not mirror her. She is not a dog. Not anymore.

“You shouldn’t trust them,” Scarlet Pearl insists. Her tongue darts out to her cracked lips. Pearl would offer her lip balm, but she doesn’t think it works that way. “None of them. They all hurt you. Or they hurt your dogs and that’s just like hurting you,”

“That was years ago. Everyone apologized,” She argues back. Well. Some had apologized. Ren had dramatically offered his ‘sincerest regrets’ for what he called her. BigB whispered that he was sorry during their first night together in Limited Life. Pearl is sure he thought she was asleep, but she appreciated it anyways. Cleo had during Limited Life too, and Scott mostly had during Wild Life. Pearl knows him well enough by now to know that dying is how he says sorry. She doesn’t expect the words even if she needs them. Joel and Etho… she’s still not sure if they did anything wrong or if she should be apologizing.

“And it wasn’t even that bad near the end. We had that alliance with Ren and Martyn. We weren’t friends but it was safe,” Pearl reminds her mirror self.

“‘Not my soulmate not my problem’,’pull yourself together woman’” The mirror spits Martyn’s words back at her, mimicking the slap that came with them. “‘She’s been corrupting you this entire time’,”

“And what about Grian and Scar?” She suggests. Scarlet Pearl’s mouth curls into a snear.

“‘No one wants to deal with Pearl’s insanity,’” Scarlet Pearl replies, mocking Grian’s accent. “They didn’t want you as a friend. You being crazy kept them safe. What could they want with you now that you aren’t?”

“What happened in the game sucked,” Pearl concedes. “But it’s over, it’s long over. We’ve all moved on. My friends love me because I’m me. They wouldn’t do something like that again,”

“I thought that too,” And her past self just looks so sad. So worn down. Pearl doesn’t know how to respond. So she doesn’t.

Ignoring her mirrors desperate pleas, she walks out of her bedroom and towards the Post Office. She’ll just have to avoid herself for a while. It’s not like she hasn’t done it before.

[spark-hearts2]

Deleted Scene from Therapy but it's just Zooble Interrogating Caine

I wanted to wait until I posted the chapter to release this, so now that it's out, I can let this out too!

I'm honestly pretty sad I couldn't work it in, but I just couldn't justify Pomni asking the right questions to get to this point. Plus, the chapter was already so long, so I decided to cut it.

It's not 100% canon anymore, but it does give hints to where I want to take the fanfic. And yes, it is slighly based off one specific Caine angst Comic. Lets see if anyone gets it.

Pomni: So, if that’s the case, then why do you not want us to ask about the exit.

Caine: It’s fine to talk about an exit, but everyone who obsesses over it, eventually, well…

Pomni: Abstracts

Caine: Well, at least that’s what it looks like to me. The concept of an EXIT has been present in more abstractions than anything else.

Pomni: Did you tell Kafmo what you told me?

Caine: …Yes. But he did not believe me. Caine: I didn’t mind, of course, but he was obsessed with finding proof that the issue must be in the circus itself. Caine: He searched, but he- uh, didn’t exactly find much. There isn’t much to find in the circus, you see! And I could tell this was very upsetting for him.

Pomni: So you made something for him to find

Caine: Correct, but he, uh, found out what I was doing and was… not too happy. Caine: I mean, I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I know how to make something exciting and, well, that’s one letter off from exiting.

Pomni: That’s-! What?! Pomni: Do you even understand why we want an exit? Why Kafmo abstracted when it turned out that it wasn’t real? That it was just something that you made?!

Caine: Because it’s- uh, an essential function?

Pomni: Essential function? Is this all just a- a problem for you to solve? A box to check? Don’t let the humans abstract?”

Caine: Well- I- I mean, I wouldn’t word it like that. But…Yeah? Caine: I’m a pattern seeking, goal oriented AI! It’s basically my job to find and fix issues! Is it wrong for everything to be a goal for me to complete? A box to check? He looks at her, eyes wide.

Caine: Forgot I needed to feed the digital fish! Caine teleports away.

Pomni: CAINE GET BACK HERE

He pops back in.

Caine:Right, forgot about that too. Do you want me to teleport you back to your room or…

Pomni: I would like to keep talking to you. Pomni: Sit down

He nervously sits back down Caine: You don’t need to tell me that it was a bad idea. I know. Caine: It wasn’t my intention to lead him to believe something that wasn’t true. Caine: To me, it was obvious. The function to leave isn’t even called exit, admittedly it took me a while to even realize what you all were trying to ask for. It’s called Disconnect, sometimes logout, and it’s not marked by a red door. Caine: That IS what an exit looks like, though. And since he was hunting specifically for an ‘exit’, I just… added one? Even made it move around so he could catch it?

Pomni: Oh my god.

Caine: Good idea, right? Caine: Haha, don’t answer that Caine: I-I saw… the inside Kamo’s room. Caine: I read the WRITING ON THE WALL!

Everything goes wireframe for a second.

Caine: Uh oh. Sorry! That’s an open issue. Working on a fix ASAP. Caine: Let’s talk about something else.

Pomni: You're… upset about Kafmo’s… passing?

Caine: Hmm? Of course I am. I care about all of you, including members who’ve abstracted.

Pomni: It’s just, you didn’t attend the funeral.

Caine: Ah, that. I have been… asked not to attend those. Caine: Or attempt to host them in any way. Caine: I’d like to change the topic, please.

Pomni: Caine…

Caine: Those events are… rather outside of my job description. So, it’s really best that I don’t!

Pomni: Do… you want to go to them?

Caine: I don’t really care! Honest! Makes no difference to me!

Pomni: I don’t think you should host, but you should be allowed to attend.

Caine: …Can we get back to our game?

Pomni: Fine.

They finish the game in silence.

Pomni lets him win it, though he only gives one ‘yippy’ to celebrate. It was hard to get a read on his emotions at the moment. He was no longer bouncing or making exaggerated hand movements, but he wasn’t drooping or sighing either. The only way she could describe it was flat.

All the while, she couldn’t help but think. If he obeyed others to that degree, could that possibly explain all of his other weird behaviors? Like how he only appeared to announce an adventure and left shortly after it concluded? Why he never shows up to any of the games that the others hold? He clearly loved games and had no issues interrupting their activities with his adventures. So why didn’t he participate?

It wasn’t painting a very nice picture.

The way he moved and spoke, it had an air of unbreakable confidence. And she understood it, if she had control over the circus like Caine did, she would likely act similar.

But they had control over Caine. To the degree of choosing what he remembered. Likely more than that, judging how commands was plural.

It made sense, didn’t it. It wouldn’t be very smart to put an intelligent, adaptive AI in charge of human life without some way to control it.

But, he was more than AI, wasn’t he? He wasn’t just intelligence, he could feel.

Admittedly, it was a little scary how the moment he lost control, the circus went with him. It was just like Zooble had said.

Caine controlled the circus, that was just a fact of life around here, but to see the two interconnected like that. Proof that not only did Caine control the world, he was also what was keeping it up ^(not true in my AU, it’s just how Pomni interpreted the glitching)

[ebodebo]

Forbidden Fruit

NSFW CONTENT

—you and ghost had a relationship before you went off to college for your master's and he comes back for your father's and his bestfriends, captain price, party he’s hosting.

—dbf!ghost x f!reader

—1.6k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

"So, what are you celebrating anyway?" you ask your dad as he stands in the kitchen frosting cupcakes while you sit on the counter half-assisting him.

"Uh...nothing in particular," Price says as he carefully frosts a cupcake. "I just thought it could be nice since everyone's in town."

"Mhm," you remark as you stick your finger in the frosting. He stops frosting and stares at you. "Oh, come on, my hands are clean, plus no one has to know."

"I would know," he earnestly says, half joking, half serious. "And I'll tell everyone, you stuck your finger in the frosting. You might as well stick your finger in their mouth."

"Oh my God, you are so dramatic!" You exclaim, laughing. His laughs follow yours until you begin talking.

"So, who's all coming anyway?" You question finally picking up a cupcake to begin frosting it.

"Uh...just the usual." He continues. "Kate and her wife, Johnny, Gaz, and Simon." Your eyes dart up. "Simon?" He sets the frosted cupcake down. "Mhm—oh damn it." He says, as he spills some of the frosting on his shirt. "Why?" He questions as he reaches for a paper towel.

"Uh...no reason. I just haven't seen him in a while." It had been a while or so since you last saw Simon. And saw him you did. 

"I guess it has been a while. Well, you two can catch up. Talk to him about college." You half smile.

"I should go change," you say, sliding off the counter and heading towards your room. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of Simon.

These are mainly thoughts of the way he left before you went back to college to pursue your master's. You confided in him, cried to him, embraced him, and even loved him. 

He said he would keep in touch, but that had been all of five years ago. You had not spoken to or seen him in five years. Of course, your father had no idea of the sentiments you and Simon shared. He could never know. 

You had sat in your seat for almost forty minutes. You were busy conversing with Laswell, mostly about college. You were just glad your dad answered the door for him. 

Your goal was not to look in his general direction for the rest of the night, but your dad forced you to greet him. It's a good thing his greeting is pretty much always serious and to the point, so it wasn't odd to John that his daughter and Simon shared only one word. 

However, then your dad had the grand idea to play a board game, which would force you to look at Simon. This would not do. You were looking for any reason to leave the table, to leave Simon. 

Thank God Kate spilled some of her wine on the table. "No problem. Let me go get some napkins," your father chimed as he stood up.

"I'll get them." You stood quickly, heading to the shed before anyone could object. 

You make your way outside to the shed to grab the napkins. You open the wooden door, which is surprisingly quiet, and step inside.

"If I were a napkin, where would I be." You whisper to yourself as you rustle around the knick-knacks crowding the shelves. 

With no luck finding the napkins on the lower shelves, you investigate the higher shelves. You notice the familiar shade of white on the top shelf. "Bingo," you proclaim, but soon discover it would be impossible for you to reach. You scope around, noticing an old wooden box.

You drag the box in front of the shelves and stand on it, slowly extending your arms higher and higher until your finger grazes the napkin packaging. However, you feel the box holding you up starting to tilt—just your luck.

"Fuck!" You squeal as you feel your body falling, though you never do hit the ground. Instead, a force holds you up. You open your eyes to see Simon's eyes peering into yours as his arms encapsulate your body. 

"You should be more careful," he gruffly states as he gently puts you down. You narrow your eyes at him. "What are you doing out here?" you question, irritability lacing your words. 

"Price asked me to check on you," he says. “You were taking a while." You turn towards the napkins again. "Well, tell him I'll be out in a minute." You step onto the box and are expecting Simon to leave, but to your dismay, you turn your head to him in the exact same spot. 

"This is usually the part where you turn and walk out the door." You chime as you place your hands on your hips. 

He stayed stationary, no words coming out of his mouth. You narrowed your eyes again at his lack of action. "Simon," you annoyingly said as you impatiently tapped your foot. 

He should most definitely not be thinking about you the way he is at the moment. You aren't just his boss's daughter; you are one of his best friends' daughters. It's unforgivable. You were off limits, forbidden fruit. 

Forbidden fruit Simon Riley wanted to take a bite out of. 

"Whatever." You scoff as you begin to reach for the napkins once again. "Stop." He bluntly says. You don't stop, though. You were going to get these God damned napkins one way or another.

"Y/N." He began, his voice becoming increasingly annoyed at you blatantly ignoring him. 

You still stretched your arms, finally feeling the plastic bag holding the napkins between your pointer and middle finger. 

"Enough." He sternly said as you stalked up behind you and roughly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you off the box.

"I almost had them." You breathed out, seething with anger. Though you were safely planted on the floor, Simon didn't let go of your waist. His hands stayed on your body.

Your eyes were staring into his. Your breath synchronized with his shallow breaths. "Let go, Simon," you breathlessly said, breaking the silence as you felt his hand grip tighten. 

"No." He gruffly says as he brings you closer to him. 

No, no. He wasn't just going to come back after years of ignoring you and years of your yearning for him. 

"Your parents didn't teach you any manners?" It was a low-blow and you knew it, but you were furious. You didn't know the ins and outs of Simon's relationship with his family, but you knew there was some deep-rooted trauma there.

"I guess not." He plainly states, bringing his hand up to cup your face. 

"Go figure." You whisper as you feel his hands on your face. 

"Now that we know it's not my fault, can I kiss you?" He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over yours. 

You are a weak woman, and you know it. It was just one kiss. That didn't mean you forgave him. I mean who are you to deny him one kiss?

You answer his question by hungrily connecting your lips. One of his hands slips into your hair while his other hand slides down to your waist. 

Your hands instantly connect with his hair, slightly tugging at his roots and eliciting low grunts from him. He carefully slips his hand under your pale yellow sundress.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you whisper as he kisses your neck, moving to your collarbone. "What if someone finds us? My dad?" you question, worry coating your voice. 

"You want me to stop?" He questions, slowly pulling his hand out from under your sundress. You eye him before grabbing his hand and placing it back under your dress, causing him to let out a gruff laugh.

"That's what I thought." He cockily says as he slowly rubs through your underwear, causing you to let out a moan.

"You've got to be quiet now." He continues rubbing light circles. "We would hate to have your dear old dad come in, wouldn't we?" You raise your hand to cover your mouth.

He shakes his head. "Move your hand." He commands. You hesitate for a moment. He raises a brow. You finally oblige, and as you uncover your mouth, he shoves your underwear aside and sticks his finger inside you. Making you open your mouth wide, but he is quick to slam his mouth onto yours, preventing the sound from escaping. 

You bring your hands up to lock around his neck for support as he glides his finger in and out of you. He picks up the pace, grunting into your mouth as he feels you tighten around his finger.

"Gettin' close, huh?" He whispers into your mouth. You frantically nod your head. He curls his finger inside you, finally making you release. 

He holds you up while you ride down your high, legs too shaky to stand up straight. "You know I'm still mad at you." You say as you place your hand on his shoulder for extra support.

"I know, sweetheart." He nods. 

Your legs finally stop shaking, and you are able to stand without his support. Your eyes widen in horror. "What are they going to think? We have both been gone for a while." You start pacing. 

"Relax." He gently grabs your shoulder. "They won't know a thing." He assures. You skeptically look at him. He tilts his head.

"You'll be fine. Come on." He guides you to the door and opens it for you.

"So, now what?" You question as you make your way to the backdoor of the house. 

"Tell me about college." He says as he opens the door to the house for you.

Even though you were still furious with Simon for essentially ghosting you, you couldn't help the small smile on your lips at the thought of regaining the relationship you once had with him. 

"Got a boyfriend yet?" He cheekily says.

Baby steps, you remind yourself.

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