#it's like their monthly week-end date and I realized

[cloudcountry]

headpats from little shrimpy!

Genre/Tropes: Mutual pining.

Summary: Floyd doesn't know if YOU know that merpeople show they're interested in each other with physical contact, but one head pat from you and he's lost all forms of self restraint. Oops!

Author's Comments: Okay as someone who is HEAVILY FIXATED on moray eels and knows too many things about them and how they interact with other morays (+ shrimp in mcs case) this is such a TREAT. I LOVE THIS. Granted it's not scientific at all but still. Cute.

~~~~~

It would have been such an unimportant action to anyone else.

Having a cute little Shrimpy pat you on the head as they passed by with the monthly earnings of the Mostro Lounge wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else.

But it mattered to Floyd Leech.

It mattered a lot.

It mattered so much, in fact, that he froze in his chair and stared at your retreating back. Was it just his imagination, or were you walking faster? Jolting out of his seat, he made a run for you and prayed he’d catch you before you disappeared into Azul’s office.

Unfortunately, you made it. Boo. No fun.

Floyd pouted, jiggling the locked doorknob. Azul had a habit of locking it when he was in a meeting, and that’s exactly what he told Floyd after he told him to go away.

How unfair! His Shrimpy was in there!

Officially in a sour mood, Floyd went back to the booth he was sitting in and pouted. He’d just wait for you to come out and grill you with questions! Yeah, he could do that!

...

Floyd Leech could not do that.

He ended up pacing around the Mostro Lounge for a few hours, passing through the kitchen to talk to Jade before he got bored again.

“Did you see Shrimpy pass through here?” Floyd asked, poking his head into the kitchen for the seventh time, “I’ve been waiting for them but they haven’t come out of the VIP Room!”

“The Prefect? They left about ten minutes ago.” Jade hummed, focusing on his simmering cream of mushroom soup.

Floyd wrinkled his nose at the pot before darting away from the kitchen, intent on finding you before you escaped from him once again. You must have slipped out while he wasn’t looking! You couldn’t just pat his head and not say anything!

It wasn’t like you knew the implications, but physical touch was a way for merfolk to show that they were romantically interested in each other. Floyd felt his mood souring even more when he realized that you might have just done that to do it. It might have not even meant anything to you.

“Boo. Shrimpy better have meant it.” he huffed.

It was like the entire school could tell that Floyd was in a bad mood, because nobody dared to stop him as he ran through the halls. Riddle looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he ducked into a nearby classroom. Floyd didn’t have time to antagonize him right now, though—finding Shrimpy and asking them about their head pat was more important!

Before he knew it, Floyd was bursting through the Ramshackle gate and sprinting up to your front door. You weren’t anywhere to be seen on the front lawn, so Floyd hoped you were inside. If he had to look for you any longer he’d be grumpy for the next week.

“Shrimpyyyy!” he called out, cupping his mouth so the sound would travel farther, “Lemme in! I wanna talk to you!”

He heard loud thumping inside as you rushed down the stairs, the sound of the lock on the door jiggling making him bounce on the tips of his toes.

“Shrimpy!” he beamed, throwing his arms around you the second the door was open.

“Hi, Floyd.” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly as he leaned over you, crushing you against his chest.

“Hey, hey! Didja mean it? You better have meant it!” he pulled away only to shake you by the shoulders, “If you didn’t mean it I’m gonna be so upset!”

“Oh...Oh, that.” you mumbled, squirming in his hold, “I...You mean the head pat, right?”

“Yes!” he whined, shaking you harder, “Do you like me like that?!”

“Like what?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Like you wanna date me!” Floyd huffed, finally letting you go.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, eyes glued to your face in hopes of an answer. You felt your face heat up at the scrutiny, turning away so you didn’t have to look directly at him.

“Well...yeah.” you mumbled, “I asked Jade what I could do to, um...make you realize that I like you. And he told me that merpeople...really value physical contact? So I thought if I just gave you a head pat that might be good enough...? And I guess it was.”

“Awww, that’s so cute. You went to Jade for help?” Floyd laughed, the high pitched giggles easing your nerves just a bit, “Well lucky you, Shrimpy! I accept. Now come here.”

Floyd pulled you back into his chest and patted your head gently, and you allowed yourself to sink into his embrace.

“Cute Shrimpy.” he giggled into your hair, squeezing you tightly, “I’m gonna squeeze you every day now!”

[moodymisty]

The Primarch's responses to their beloved ovulating:

Lion El'Jonson: Doesn't know what's that. When you explained it to him, he ran into the forest. However as an old daddy dilf HE acts like a cat in heat. 10,000 years without you? Even this autistically aggressive man realizes that that's bad

Fulgrim: "Bruh, I already knew". Magically, he somehows knows whenever his lover is menstruating or ovulating. If there is a blood moon, the wind is exactly at 11.5 km/h, the glass is by 0.075% wetter than usual and maybe a leap year, he'll fuck you. Otherwise, ‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️ OVERSTIMULATION ACTIVATION ‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Perturabo: Teleports behind you in bed, in the night which he calculated that you should began ovulating, and is like "Wife, wake up. It's time for your monthly pelvis rupture. Also you should be ovulating. Let me take off your underwear in order to check-"

Jaghatai Khan: You tell him you're ovulating; "Okay, let's fuck." Strips you off your clothes in .2 milliseconds, fucks you in 248 different positions in 1 minute 39 seconds and 157 milliseconds, you cum about x70 times while he doesn't sweat. He laments the fact he wasn't fast enough while letting you palm his hairy titties

Leman Russ: The most excited mf ever. He and Horus have the fattest breeding kink ever. But, unlike his bro, he completely forgets about fucking his beloved and instead goes to drink "with the mates" celebrating it. Like "YAAAAA BOYS 'AM GOIN' TO FUCK MAH WIFEY AGHHFAJGAHA"

Rogal Dorn: "No." A simple no. He denies the fact that you are fertile. However during the evening, after being scolded by Good Ol' Emps for being aggressively autistic, he comes into your chambers and silently wrecks your world as he wrecked your pussy

Konrad Curze/The Night Haunter: The type of dude trying to feed the weirdest shit "for your fertility". Like he comes in with a bowl of something strange and is "Eat this, fuck toy ⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠⊂⁠)" (the type of dude to have call you the most bizarre nicknames) and you later find out it's human flesh

Ferrus Manus: His wife is already madly, completely and perfectly in love with him (as he is with her). But now she wants him more? He is the happiest man alive! The Iron Hands can't get him out of the Legion Mother's quarters during this days. When she gets out, she walks around with a limp and a huge smile on her face

Angron: doesn't understand the concept of ovulation or menstruation. If you two are sexually active, he'll fuck you whenever he feels like it. Like he'll fuck you while he's slaughtering, while he's slaughtering his sons, while he's slaughtering his brother's son's, while he's slaughtering his enemies. You'll just have to grab a book or something and be a dear about it!

Roboute Guilliman: has a mental breakdown that his logistics and excel spreadsheets were wrong about the date of when you began ovulating. Cries and you try to comfort him by giving him the sloppy toppy gooah goooah 300001.2

Mortarion: is miserably happy. His hot, gorgeous, out-of-league wife wants him even more? He'll immediately oblige to her every whim. You can expect for him to agree to fuck you in the worst situations. Like he's cumming in you while Nurgle watches on and is like "THAT'S MAHH SON. ANNIHILATE THAT HUMAN FEMALE. FLAWLESS VICTORY!!!!!". Mortarion is more horny than his wife during this time.

Magnus: When you tell him, he psychically enters your mind and makes you not forget to take your birth control pills.

Horus Lupercal: "FINALLY." *the Lady of the Luna Wolves hasn't been seen ever since.*

Lorgar Aurelian: Don't let him get to you. He's not the same man this days... The man whore is being a man whore

Vulkan: His carefully veiled breeding kink is full mode. He is even lovey-dovey, which is a lot considering Vulkan. The sex is going to be romantic, with him feeling comfortable playing with his kinks. The Salamanders worry why haven't their mother walk out of her room for 3 weeks.

Corvus Corax: he ends up crying because he knows you'll be even more insatiable. You end up riding him as best as you could and spooning afterwards :3

Alpharius and Omegon: They already know. They shall know. They must know... And you're in a room with 70 different copies of your husband. The reality of being the Lady of the Alpha Legion. "Woman with 70 different husband dies after taking too much dick"

All of these made me literally laugh out loud

But Horus and Mortarion brought tears to my eyes

[not-poignant]

Stupid question, but I remembered seeing you mention having monthly minimum wordcounts on one of your previous posts and I wanted to ask if you're a professional writer? Because at first I was like "that sounds so stressful"* and then I realized that it makes a lot more sense if you're doing it for a living.

*Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

I am a professional writer!

My original serials are my job, basically, and they're supported by generous folks at Patreon and Ream. That, in turn, allows me to do this in a more professional and focused way, vs. say just as a hobbyist who doesn't update for 9 months at a time. It also lets me share my works for free, in a fandom friendly manner, which lets me keep doing something I love in a way I love to do it, but in a way which is like...I guess more reliable than you'd necessarily be if you were only doing it for fun.

I can instead pledge high fidelity/loyalty to my main serials through thick and thin (hence my wild author's notes), which means folks following WIPs get to know they'll be finished, and I get to enjoy doing this for a living! It's hard, but it's a good hard. Except for taxes.

As for my monthly minimum, that actually started as a way to break out of the very ableist 'you should write every day' (as a professional writer) which is literally impossible for me and my chronic illnesses. I sometimes have big chunks of time where I can't write, sometimes weeks! And where it would be unhealthy for me to make myself.

(More about my writing process beneath the Read More!)

Alongside that, I have quite severe dyscalculia (think dyslexia but with numbers and directions and left and right lol) so I can't keep a 'running wordcount' because the numbers confuse me too much. Luckily, because my writing life is defined by chapters completed (and not novels), I count the wordcount of every finished chapter only. Unfinished chapters don't count! My growing wordcount per month grows only when that draft is finished (my drafts are clean, so chapters only tend to grow or shrink by about 100-150 words per edit, so give or take it all evens out).

It's not how any other author I know does it, but it works so well for me that I've been doing it for nearly a decade now.

I started the monthly minimum (which currently is 25k words per month) because I tend towards being a workaholic, and so my therapist and I established a minimum not as an unreachable goal that's hard to meet, but as an easy goal that's generally effortless for me to reach in good months, and average months, and even many bad ones. After I hit 25k words per month, if I crash, feel burnt out, feel awful, or life gets Life-y in a bad way, I have permission to stop writing. I can just stop. Everything else is gravy. (Though secretly I always want to hit 30-35k but shhh).

When I hit 50k words, I also have to stop immediately and take a mandatory 3-5 day break from writing even if I want to keep writing. Because I don't know it yet, but I'm probably exhausted on at least some level, lol.

I didn't hit 50k at all last year and there is at least one therapist who would be really proud of me about that even though I feel kind of guilty about it, lol.

Here's an example of my tracking:

You can see the chapters I've written, which dates I've written them. They're colour coded, so I can see at a glance if I'm writing enough of a story or not. And then on the far right is an addition of every month's wordcount.

April was so low because I took an intentional writing holiday (which I'll be doing again ideally in March this year). December was so low because December sucks.

And then I erase it all at the end of the year and start again. The blank whiteboard is actually very motivating to write that first chapter because I always feel like I haven't done anything until then.

This whiteboard is two feet away from where I write quite literally, and is never moved etc. so I have a yearly tracker basically that's extremely visible (super helpful to my ADHD brain, because if I put this in a spreadsheet I'll stop updating it after 3 weeks and then forget it exists). The colour coding gives me dopamine, so does adding chapters.

Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

This is true! This is actually the least stressful way of doing things for me.

That being said, anon, it's still super stressful. Being a serial writer is one of the most stressful things you do, because you have constant and never-ending deadlines for years. Novelists can kind of escape this, in a way, because they can't release novels as often as I release chapters. But I have to be mentally switched on at least 8 times a month, re: putting work out there, making sure it's at least semi-polished, making sure I let everyone know, and tracking responses because obviously, unlike a novel, if you lose interest you can't just "skip ahead" you simply lose your readers. A lot of novelists couldn't live or work this way, a) because they couldn't write a hooky serial and b) because many realise that having to update all the time is really exhausting actually. There's a kind of social labour to updating a serial, and getting it Right every single time. One of my greatest fears that I have nightmares about

Serial writing is the most stressful kind of writing I've ever done (and I've done a few different kinds), I just happen to like the adrenaline rush of this kind of writing, and I happen to work well under a controlled level of stress! I know that, because I've been doing this for over 10 years, refining it, figuring out how to make it healthier (it was really unhealthy at first), getting better at it, figuring out my weak points (some of them are still weak points) etc. I actually think I'm pretty good at it now!

I'm also getting better at not thinking my entire career is over if I take 2 weeks off.

I went from being entirely dependent on a Disability Pension, and like, sometimes having to skip meals and doctor's appointments and even medication due to money issues (the Disability Pension is ironically not enough if you have mental health issues because our subsidised healthcare doesn't cover mental health adequately and Australia has no food stamps system), to being able to live a bit more freely and support my chronic health stuff a bit more because of writing this way!

For the first time ever through these stories I was able to afford a psychiatrist, and a few other things I really desperately have needed since I was a teenager. So being able to write like this, even when it's really hard and I'm really tired, feels still like a miracle to me. I've never been well or healthy enough to work a full-time job with typical 9-5 hours, and always kind of was stuck imagining a life where I'm just...never knowing how to afford certain things, to being in a position where I'm fairly confident I can get my meds every month, or pay for my dog's pet food, etc. It's really nice.

But yeah honestly serial writing is the most stressful form of serial writing there is as soon as you lock it in as a professional job where you must meet nearly 10 deadlines every month and you happen to have pretty intense ADHD so deadlines make you scream a little.

Sometimes what is extremely stressful and sometimes even distressing for someone is also extremely productive and rewarding for them too. We probably wouldn't have a lot of emergency surgeons if that were the bar for how we decide what we do!

[chvnnie]

Bro, fkn made me tear up while I'm in my PMS week Lawd have mercy.

Your response was so sweet,

Okay but what would happen if they reunited years later when he has had children?

Would that spark be there?

Would he avoid her?

Would she not want to see him with another woman?

Will they enjoy one final night together?

Decisions, decisions 🤔

do you guys enjoy seeing me suffer like—

blaming you for how much I love this fucking couple and the way I couldn’t stop writing this!!! AND I TRIED!!!

it’s long. im apologizing now.

SMUT — MINORS DNI

You never fell out of contact with Chan.

Well, maybe for a few months. When everything was still fresh. It hurt too much to even see his name in your contact list; talking to him would have shattered every atom inside you.

Everything stops hurting eventually. When he called you one day, exactly five months and three days after the world ended, the pain was almost numbed. As your phone vibrated in your hand, you realized it wasn’t what you were that you missed. It was him. Chan. Your best friend, even long before the two of you became one.

You answered. And suddenly the atoms started to bounce together, the world rebuilding from scratch.

The years passed. The planet flourished. Not a day went by without a word shared between the two of you. Weddings were held — Chan’s, insistent that you were always meant to be by his side. Begging you to be his “best woman”.

“You were always meant to be at my wedding.” He said after you denied the request over and over, a little tipsy on the bottle of wine you were sharing at his engagement party. “Please. It can’t happen without you.”

The thought was shared, but never spoken. Off to the side isn’t where either of you pictured your place in it.

Yours. A spur of the moment decision, overwhelmed from planning a party that neither you or your husband really wanted. A quick search proved that tickets to Vegas were far cheaper. A bottle of shitty champagne was shared over fast food burgers that really weren’t that filling.

Or, you tell yourself it was the burger.

Your best friend almost passed out at your monthly double date night. After the shock wore off, and after he chugged a glass or two of bourbon, he smile at you from across the table.

But it looks a little sad.

“I guess you can’t help your wants, huh?”

Other milestones passed. Big birthdays, new jobs and promotions, two babies for Chan, a dog for you. All was well; the sun shining, flowers blooming, the world finally stable again.

The first earthquake came the day of the youngest’s third birthday party.

You’re in Chan’s kitchen, digging through the adult cooler for the seltzers you brought. Did somebody drink them all? Ugh, you knew that fucking bitch from across the street was being a little too sneaky with her beverage. Wait until you hit her with that cash request after the party—

The backdoor opens quickly, two sets of feet rushing inside followed by a loud slam. You jump, quickly hiding in the pantry before they can make it into the kitchen.

“Will you just talk to me?” It’s Chan.

“How many times are you going to ask me about it?” His wife. “Fuck, can you just drop it—“

“I just think it’s pretty convenient that your boss brings up another business trip, just the two of you, today.”

Silence. A drawer slams.

“Are you really going to ruin your son’s party like this, Christopher?”

The snicker Chan gives raises the hairs on your arm. “Are you really going to keep pretending like you’re not fucking your boss?”

You have to clasp a hand over your mouth to silence the loud gasp that escapes you. It’s not like it was any secret that they’re having problems; he confided in you months ago that things have started to get rocky. Never, ever, did you expect this, though.

She storms out, saying something under your breath that you can’t hear. Door slams. Chan sighs into the empty kitchen, probably running his fingers through his hair if had to guess—

“I know you’re in there.” He sounds defeated. “You left your phone on the counter.”

Shit.

Slowly, you crack the door open, peeking out of the dark pantry. Your friend is leaning against the sink, arms crossed across his broad chest. There’s a small smile on his pain stricken face, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. Age treated him well.

“I wasn’t listening.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

You step out of the pantry fully, walking slowly up to your friend. There’s enough space next to him for you, which you take. Leaning side by side, staring out the large window at the party. It carries on; children laughing, eating cake. Parents chatting, chasing kids. All this joy on the other side of the thin glass, completely oblivious to the trembling beneath their feet.

You speak first. “How long have you known?”

“A while.” Chan takes a deep breath, trying to relax his shoulders. “I had hoped when she switched departments it would stop but…yeah.”

Outside the window, the curly haired boy turns in a circle. His little eyes are wide and bright, searching the crowd of grownups for a familiar face. His mom’s back is turned, he doesn’t see her. Though you’re sure he’s actually speaking, all you see is his mouth move.

Dada?

When he can’t find him, another name comes from his mouth. Scanning the sea of people for you.

The second quake comes three months later.

Chan and his wife are in therapy, and though all appears well, the cracks are deep. Wide. You can see right through the facade.

It’s cold outside. Even through your thick jacket, you can feel the heavy winter breeze. It freezes your nose, numbs your lips. You walk quickly, dog trotting alongside you in the same rush. The little boots he wears protects his paws, yet he still whimpers.

When was the last time Christmas Eve was this cold?

There’s a fire crackling when you open the front door, your dog barely off the leash before she barrels to it. Jumping on her little boots, trying to warm up.

“Fuck, it’s cold.” You curse, shedding the many layers you wore. “I literally thought I was going to get frostbite.”

Your husband doesn’t give more than a hum in acknowledgment, nose in his book. Plopping on the couch next to him, you lean in to give him a kiss.

And he moves away.

“All good?” The concern is heavy in your voice.

Nothing. Just a hum.

“Can I have a kiss?”

“I’m busy.”

“Reading. The same book you read every winter.”

It’s harsh, the way he slams the book shut. When he looks up at you, you can help but recoil. Scooting just a bit back from him. The look in his eyes is so…different.

“Can you just give me some fucking space? Please?” He doesn’t raise his voice, and that makes it all the more concerning. Scary. “God, you’re so clingy all the time.”

Oh. Your eyes drop, lips pressing into a thin line. Jeez, why does this cut so deep? It’s not the first time he’s said it to you.

“I guess—I just thought, since it’s Christmas—“

“Eve.” He’s annoyed. You awkwardly adjust yourself on the couch, bringing a sweater clad hand to your face to wipe the tears you can’t help. “Oh, please, stop crying. It’s not that deep.”

There’s a tree on the planet. It’s tall, home to leaves that change colors. Usually, it’s day by day, depending on the waves and the weather and the stars. All day they’ve been a sparkly light green. Peace. A good color.

But they’ve started to bleed, something dark taking over the peace just as the ground begins to break.

Your husband picks the book up. Not another word to you. Heart in your stomach, you head towards the staircase. “I’m going to bed.”

He doesn’t look up from the book. “Take your fucking dog with you.”

The most impactful quake comes a mere three weeks later.

You’re sat on the living room floor, a brush handled by a five year old girl roughly running through your hair. It stings a little, but there’s no point in stopping her. She’s too stubborn to listen.

“Why don’t you wear braids?” She asked in her little voice.

“Never thought about it.” You shrug.

She sighs as if this is the most awful thing you could’ve have told her. “But you would be a princess if you wore them!”

You turn your head slightly, looking up at the girl. Her eyes are her father’s, along with the exasperated look she’s giving you.

“Shit, really?”

You cringe at the word choice, but the little girl doesn’t even flinch.

“Yes.” She sighs. “Turn around, I help you.”

Can’t really argue with that. Right as you think she’s taken at least half of your hair, Chan comes into the living room. Headed straight for the front door.

“Alright, the youngest is asleep.” He’s reaching for his coat, checking his watch obsessively. He’s late. “Pizza is on the way, don’t let the monster stay up too late.”

Finger guns to his daughter, who just ignored him. Not amused with his stupid joke.

“I shouldn’t be long, maybe three hours tops.” Chan says to you. “Changbin has kids to get home to, so I’ll be back before you can miss me too much.”

You flip him off. The daughter follows.

“Okay, don’t like do that at school or anything-“

“We’ll be alright.” You say, trying to get him out the door. Things have been more tense that usual lately; it took all of Changbin’s energy to convince him to get a drink with him. Nothing is going to keep him in this house. “Don’t have too much fun.”

The smile he gives you is so genuine. Real happiness. It’s been a while since you’ve seen that.

The pizza? Mediocre at best. The movie she picked? You hate how invested you were in that storyline. It’s like you blinked and it was time for bed, helping the little girl into her bright blue sheets.

She picks the book for you to read. Four pages, and she’s snoring.

You’ve never liked kids. Never really wanted them, either. While you still hold these sentiments, it’s hard to not like her. Her brother. There’s something about them that’s different, tugging on your heart so hard you think it will pop out of your chest.

Kids are awful. But Chan’s? You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of.

She’s been asleep about thirty minutes. Mindlessly, you click through the tv channel, trying to decide on something. Barely nine in the evening, and there’s nothing to watch? That seems like a scam—

Bang. Thunder. Flashes of lightning. The world shaking harder than it has since it’s birth about ten years ago. Chan storms inside his home, the heavy footsteps making you jump.

“Fuck!” You cry, holding a hand over your heart as you try to catch your breath. “You scared me—“

“She’s not on a trip.” He’s tearing off his coat, kicking off his shoes. Slamming the keys and wallet on the coffee table.

The wheels are turning slowly, but when they click, you feel cold. A blizzard tumbling through the planet. “What?”

Everything was fine. Chan was happy, talking with Changbin and sharing shitty wings over even shittier beer. For a second, he forgot. Forgot about his wife and her affair, the therapy that he honestly felt was a waste of time. The divorce papers in the top drawer of his office, already signed and ready to be present when his wife gets back.

He just needed to pee. Walking towards the back of the crowded bar, he saw a set of eyes he knew too well. It brings him to a halt, looking right at his wife. Who is staring right back at him. With the arm of her boss around her shoulders.

“How many times has she said she was going to be gone, just to stay in town with him?” Chan asks, his voice rising as the storm gets heavier. “Does she not give a shit about our children—“

“Who are sleeping.” You add, grabbing your friend’s biceps and squeezing them tightly. He’s getting too worked up. The feelings he had for her are long, long gone. Buried so deep they’ll never be found.

He’s not mad about the cheating. He’s mad about how she’s abandoned the children.

Chan nods before he sits on the couch. Head hanging in his hands, nails scratching his scalp. Exhausted. Lonely. Broken.

“Why did I fucking marry her?”

You take a seat next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your best friend, your everything. Soulmates always seem like an unbelievable concept, until you met Chan. Without a doubt, he is one of yours.

Though, the universe still seems torn on the kind.

“She wasn’t always like this.” You reassure him. “Remember how hard you fell for her? It was really cute; you couldn’t stop talking about her. Nobody expected this, Chan.”

“I did.” When he looks at you, his eyes are dark. Wide. Solid, serious expression not waving even in the intense winds. “I always knew. She never loved me like I loved—“

The sentence isn’t finished. It doesn’t need to be.

Like that, the rain has stopped. Thunder silenced, sky dark. Time has been paused, standing still as you stare at each other in the dimly lit living room. It doesn’t feel like you’re breathing. Like anything is happening.

Except for a teeny, tiny spark. Rock against rock. Fire being invented once again.

Time resumes as Chan pulls you into his lap, lips colliding intensely. His tongue is heavy on yours, deeply kissing you as if to consume you. To make up for all the kisses that should have been.

This affair isn’t driven by hurt, by the agony caused at the hands of both your spouses. It isn’t jealousy, it isn’t hate. It’s a love that always was, always will, and was always meant to be at the core of the universe.

Even the apocalypse couldn’t destroy it.

Ten years. Ten years and Chan still knows how to touch you. The little place on your collarbone that turns you into jelly. How you love when he bites roughly on your nipples, the teasing of his fingers hooking under the waistband of your jeans.

“I hate that you got married in Vegas.” He says in a growl, lowering you onto the coffee table. “I hate that you didn’t fucking tell me until you got back.”

He yanks your jeans down, taking the soft cotton panties will them. Body bare for him once again.

“I hate that I wasn’t there.” The buttons become loose as he roughly takes his shirt off. He watches as your eyes travel, following his hands to the belt he’s pulling off. A familiar awe.

It’s cute. Sets his heart on fire in the best way possible.

Grabbing your chin, he tilts your head so you’re looking at him again.

“Pay attention to me when I talk to you, baby.” He says with a smile, wetting his lips before capturing yours again. “Don’t you want to know why I hated that so much?”

You blink slowly, giving a brief nod.

Hips against hips, the head of his cock works it’s way up and down your silt. A beautiful moan, a cold shiver. Everything falling into place as he lines himself up.

“Because I was going to say no.”

He doesn’t linger. Quickly, Chan buries himself inside you, fucking you with a passion you haven’t felt in years.

“How dare you-“ hands on either side of your head, he grips the coffee table for support. “—marry someone who isn’t me?”

You’re breathless. Jaw dropped, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. It’s like no time has passed; fucking you like you need, like you deserve. Something only Chan has ever been able to do.

“You’re my girl, remember?” He grunts, eyes rolling back slightly when you clench around him. “How could you forget that?”

Shaking your head, your head rolls back. Full, wonderful moans like music to Chan’s ears.

“N-never did.” You admit, chest shaking with heavy breaths. “I’ve always been y-yours, Chan-“

When he kisses you, the world splits in two. Existence finally starting to make sense. Teeth and tongue, he loves you in the best way anyone ever has. Bodies becoming one, forces beyond your own making you whole once more.

He looks at you. Your heart skips a beat.

Has this world always been full of life, or is it all brand new? Could life exist without the two of you?

“Good.” Chan’s smile is like home. “Because I’ll never stop wanting you.”

[ourpickwickclub]

If you believe in karma (which I most certainly do) ML got a huge dose of it after Blake discovered her cheating, pretty dam quickly divorced her and then ended up dating/marrying Gwen (someone ML admired and who tops her fame 10 fold). Icing on the cake, she had to settle for toothy whom it appears she bought out in some kind of strange arrangement after a few weeks(def not a love connection) and he’s as philandering and sleazy as she is. Two of kind😂

According to Blake and Gwen’s pretty in our faces Easter eggs from over the years, they both found out about their spouses cheating in February 2015, and neither walked out right away. Looking at Blake’s posts and things he said between Feb 2015 and when he filed in July 2015, he spent 5 months trying to make it work after he knew about ML’s 18 month affair with Ryan Westbrook. He even bought a house with her in Brentwood, TN to try to give her more Nashville time despite the fact that she had agreed to make OK the martial home, I think.

My point is, he gave her a lot, he forgave her a lot, and he tried hard to make it work until (I believe) he found out she was sleeping with Anderson East whom she met recording Dave Cobb’s Southern Family. I think then, he was done. And she will never have someone who cares about her and fights for her like that again. She didn’t deserve it and she certainly doesn’t have it with her latest husband/dependent. Even her dependent has dependents she has to pay monthly now. She pays a big price to have her saving face ‘husband’ around.

And Gwen has also always eluded to the fact that there is more to her story than the nanny stuff. She said, if people knew what really happened they wouldn’t believe it, that it was a CRAZY, crazy, even juicy type story because it is so insane, but that she wouldn’t tell it for the sake of her kids. Gwen always has seen Blake for the prize he is. She acted quick (imo) when she found out Blake was single again. I’m certain that she already had things underway to divorce GR, but imagine hearing your hot, handsome, funny, talented co-worker is also divorcing. She knew a million women would be after Blake soon. And I’m sure he realized the same thing about Gwen.

They both slammed those doors to their exes shut and never looked back. And 9 years later they are still goofballs in love. And the exes are bitter af.

- B

[callsignspark]

Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5.2

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, like soooo much flirting, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 3.6k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday! I hope everyone had lovely holidays and 2024 is going well for you so far! I did have some issues tagging people so apologizes if you didn't notified! I really loved writing this chapter, especially since it's going to help set the stage for the rest of the story! (only 4 more parts to go! isn't that crazy??) please be safe if you have snow coming towards you this weekend, and enjoy these two pining and yearning for each other more than ever.

part 8.5.2 - rambling and rings

Friday, April 16, 2021

Mary waves at the obnoxiously large SUV as Slider honks and drives away. Leaning against the entryway table, she slips her heels off and wiggles her painted toes at the feeling of the soft runner beneath her feet. Shuffling over to the entertainment console, she hums as she connects her phone, choosing the song that was on in the car.

The dreamy guitar intro floats through the air, making her smile. And the last beams of golden sunshine disappear as she dances through the living room, enjoying the peaceful feeling that’s settled in her chest and closing the blinds in between twirls.

Good things are happening at work, rumbles that there’s a promotion coming on the horizon. The monthly call back home to her parents hadn’t ended in tears for the first time in months. Most of her evenings are spent in the company of at least one Dagger family member, helping Kris and Dani with their kids or enjoying the adult-only life with Aaron and Flora. Bradley is messaging her as often as he can, every email making her heart flutter, increasing her joy with every sentence he types.

Everything is coming together in ways she had never even dared to dream about.

An early dinner with Ron, Mav, and Penny was the cherry on top of a great week. The four of them laughing and telling stories the entire time, taking advantage of the warm spring weather at the patio table Pete had reserved for Slider’s birthday. As stories and photos were traded across the table, Mary felt like her heart could burst learning about baby Bradley. The only quiet moment of the evening was when their waiter brought an unordered round of drinks to the table, prompting the men to venture inside and thank the old Navy buddy that had spotted them through the window.

“Thank you, Matt; it was getting just a tiny bit too windy for us.”

“No problem, ma’am.” The young man smiles over his shoulder as he finishes turning the outdoor heater on. “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now, thank you,” Penny answers, glancing at Mary, softening at the sight of the younger woman lost in thought as she stares out at the ocean with a content smile.

She watches as brown eyes drift from the water to the table, gentle fingers tracing over a copy of a photo that’s older than the girl studying it. Penny stays quiet, letting the sound of waves crashing on the sand accompany the slight furrow that creases Mary’s brow as she brings the photo closer to her face.

“He looks just like his dad, doesn’t he?”

“He does; he acts a lot like him, too, more than he realizes.”

“You knew him?” It’s not a surprised reaction, just curious.

Penny hums, “We weren’t close, but I knew him enough to see how much Bradley has turned out like him. He’s a good blend of both his parents.”

“Did you know Carole very well?”

“More than Nick, by default, but for the most part, we were at different stages in life. She was older than me by a few years. I was in college and she was a widow raising a toddler. But, as you know, the aviator community is pretty small, so we were friendly. I would even babysit Bradley sometimes when the guys were deployed.”

“He was a cute baby,” Mary says softly, eyes back on the last photo taken of the whole Bradshaw family.

“He was… turned out to be a handsome man, didn’t he?” Penny asks, taking advantage of the moment.

She smirks as the younger woman looks up at her through her lashes, a shy smile stretching her pink cheeks. “He did.”

“Can I ask you something while they’re still inside?”

“We’re not together. But we are going on a date the week after he gets back.” Now it’s Mary’s turn to smirk at how Penny’s eyebrows rocket up to her hairline. “That is what you were going to ask me, right?”

“It’s close enough. Are you excited?”

“I am. I really like him.”

It’s the first time she admitted it out loud to anyone other than her best friend. She revels in the encouraging energy and words Penny gives back, both of them still giggling like school girls when Pete and Ron return.

“What are you two laughing about?” Slider asks as he slips Mary’s wrap over her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing.” When Penny winks, she has the overwhelming urge to cry. The knowing look accompanying those two words is more affectionate and maternal than anything her mother has done in years.

Their hug goodbye lasts a few seconds longer than expected, and the gentle hands that smooth some stray hairs back make her throat tighten. Slider is quiet on the ride home; familiar with the many moods of Mary, he lets her work through her thoughts with the radio on low.

“Y’okay, kid?” He doesn’t speak until he pulls into her neighborhood, giving himself a five-block buffer to determine if a pit stop to the closest ice cream shop is required.

“Yeah. Just-” Mary pauses, trying to figure out how to best explain. “Just still getting used to it.”

“To what?”

“To how easy it is to just be me out here. Surrounded by people who have just folded me into their lives with zero hesitation, like I’ve always been here.”

“Mary, were you happy in Florida?”

“I was content. Getting to know you helped with that a lot, but let’s face it; if I was happy, I wouldn’t have been so excited to leave.”

“And you’re happy now?”

“I am. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

It's a cheesy line, but true. She knew that when she said it, accepting the light teasing that followed with a smile. One that hadn’t left her face as she said goodbye to her mentor, one that grows as the song starts again. She can’t help how big her grin gets. This song always reminds her of Bradley.

“I'm in love, I'm alive. I belong to the stars and sky.”

Letting the song stay on repeat, Mary stops in the kitchen for some water on her way to the bedroom. It’s still early - not even eight yet - but a full night’s sleep is calling her name, eyelids feeling heavy.

She slips her clothes off, folding the jeans for tomorrow and tossing her shirt in the laundry. A small groan of relief accompanies the unclasping of her bra before she slings it into the hamper. Turning the bedroom speakers down slightly as she enters the bathroom, a grimace instantly creases her face when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

“Jesus…” Her disbelief echoes in the room as gentle fingers rub over the harsh red lines where her clothes dug into her skin. It’s evident where the waistband of her jeans sat all day. And the tender spots under her arms lets her know it’s time to look for better-fitting bras, again. Mary tugs the leg of her panties up, relieved to see at least one piece of clothing hasn’t left its mark.

She’s massaging the sore spots on her chest, letting her warm hands diminish the pain, when her phone rings. Her eyebrows furrow deeper at the unknown number flashing across the screen.

Usually, at this time of night, she’d ignore an unknown number and let the other person leave a voicemail, but something in her gut tells her to pick up before it’s too late.

“Hello?” There’s a muffled response, and she scrambles to disconnect her phone from the speakers. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Hello, ma’am. Can I speak to Mariella Vertucci?”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Lieutenant Corso in the communications bay on the USS Roosevelt. Can you confirm your identity with your full name, birthday, and the eight-digit code given to you by Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

Mary’s heart stops for a second. This is it. Bradley is calling. She’s going to get to talk to him after forty-eight days. Hear his voice. See his face.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry. Mariella Theresa Vertucci, born March 14, 1987. The code is 0125-2020.”

“Thank you, ma’am. One minute, please.” The soft clacking of a keyboard filters through the phone, the Lieutenant's tongue clicking as he types. “You’ve been verified. Does the phone you’re using have video chat capabilities.”

“It does, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Stay on the line, and in a few minutes, a video chat will come through with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. You have been allotted 30 minutes today. I am required to remind you that communication is not secure. This means, for security purposes, you cannot ask what time of day it is, what location, or how any missions have gone. Please confirm that you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you. I am also required to let you know that this video chat is conducted in a private area and will not be monitored. However, the audio will be recorded, so any lewd acts are discouraged but not forbidden.”

Mary can’t help the snort that escapes. “But not forbidden?”

“Uh- the uh-” She smothers a chuckle at how the kid trips over his words. “The Navy understands that loved ones are apart for long periods of time and can’t forbid any uh- urges that couples may wish to act upon during their chats. But we are legally required to inform everyone of the recording.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“No problem, ma’am. Please stay on the line, and your loved one will be joining shortly.” She giggles at how quickly the hold music starts, humming along to Anchors Aweigh as she clips her hair up, ready to take her makeup off. She’s about to wet a washcloth when the music cuts, and the video call comes through.

Taking a second to look herself over, Mary admires the tendrils that have escaped, perfectly framing her cheeks that are still flushed from the wine she had with dinner. The slightest bit still tipsy and a little frazzled about Bradley, she realizes just in time that she’s still only in her underwear, hitting the accept button and dropping the phone on the counter.

“One second! Just- oh, come on! Fuck!” She curses under her breath as she struggles to slip into her bathrobe. “Hang on, Bradley!”

Finally getting both arms in, she ties the robe, eyebrows raising in surprise at how it cinches her waist, before eagerly grabbing her phone.

“Hi, Mary.”

“Hi, Bradley.”

She greedily drinks him in. It’s been 48 days since she’s seen his handsome face or heard his warm voice - the longest since they met - and she’s missed him. Her heart clenches at how tired he looks, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever.

“Hi, honey.” The sweet name hits something deep inside, and she can’t help the tears that immediately form or the way her bottom lip wobbles. “Oh, shit, Mary. Please don’t cry, honey.”

The emotional reaction surprises even her; she was expecting to be a bit overwhelmed, but nothing like this. It makes her feel a little ridiculous, crying about a man she’s barely even kissed. But you love him, her brain chimes in, sending more heat to her face.

“This is your uncle’s fault!” She laughs, swiping tears away and propping her phone against the mirror.

“Mav?”

She can’t help but giggle at his disbelieving tone as she reaches for a tissue. “No, Slider. He’s in town this week, and he may or may not - but definitely did - get me tipsy at dinner, like he always does!”

She trills on about dinner, telling him about the childhood stories that were shared and the baby photos that now live on her phone, not noticing the look on his face until he interrupts.

“You getting in the shower, Mary?”

The husky tone immediately grabs all of her attention, a shiver running down her spine at the smoldering look on Bradley’s face. She follows his eyes down, surprised to see how much her robe has come undone. The valley between her breasts is completely visible, and the fabric is threatening to expose her belly button - and more - if it’s not fixed.

“Oops…” She mumbles to herself, tightening the robe so much it pushes her cleavage together.

Normally, this is where her insecurities would ruin the moment - flooding her brain with terrible things. Make her spend the rest of the call analyzing how she looks in the tiny corner box, agonizing how prominent her double chin is from this angle. But the soft fuck that crackles through the phone squashes the anxieties before they can take root, shifting her attention to admire the man looking back at her.

And god, he is a man.

Bradley Bradshaw has always been gorgeous: tall, strong, and deliciously tan. But mid-deployment Bradley Bradshaw is a vicious attack to the senses. And the hormones.

His broad shoulders have gotten broader, filling the little privacy cubicle in the communications room so much that he’s brushing both sides of the walls. His curls are more golden than usual, clear evidence of time spent flying in the Pacific tropics. His tan is deeper, too, glowing even in the harsh florescent lighting, the bridge of his nose slightly sunburnt. His neatly trimmed mustache moves with his lush pink lips, warmth building in her core as her thoughts drift to the memory of how they felt pressed against hers.

“Mary?” She hums, eyes focusing back into the present and away from her favorite post-deployment reunion fantasy. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You.”

It's clear he wasn’t expecting that answer from the way he drags a hand over his mouth to muffle a cruse, his eyes scrunching shut.

She wasn’t expecting it either; the effects of the wine have mostly worn off, leaving her with flushed cheeks and apparently a slightly looser tongue. She can’t bring herself to be embarrassed about the overly honest answer. Communicating exclusively via email for the last month and a half has allowed Mary to gain confidence in Bradley’s feelings. It’s hard to wonder about his intentions when every email ends with him telling her how many days are left until he’s home.

“Your lips…” She continues, emboldened as the last remnants of wine soften the sharp edges of her insecurities and the pink working its way up his neck. She loves how easily Bradley blushes for her. Their few kisses have always ended with his cheeks a lovely, rosy shade. “How soft your hair is. Your mustache. How strong you are. How much I miss you…”

The words make them both pause. It’s not an uncommon phrase, every email containing some variation of the sentiment, but hearing the words out loud makes it real. Cementing the longing in their chests.

“I miss you, too.” The words are quiet, echoing against the tiled walls. She chuckles, throat thick with emotion, and Bradley can’t look away from her soft smile. His heart pounding at the emotion on her face, something he can’t quite place. He can’t stop staring as she picks the phone up and flicks the light off, “Where are we going?”

“Couch.”

He smiles as the familiar walls of her living room appear, grin going slack when she props him up on the side table, and the slit of her robe reveals a thigh that he’s dreamt about as she shuffles pillows. Bradley manages to pull his mind out of his post-deployment fantasy as she plops on her couch - that damn pink couch - and smiles at him over the arm, her eyes almost closing she grins so hard.

“I’m sorry I missed our call.”

“It’s okay, Bradley. I knew it was a possibility, and Mav let me know what was going on. I understand.”

“I want to hear about your birthday.”

“I told you about my birthday! We’ve discussed it extensively.”

“I still want to hear about it. I want to hear your voice.” He revels as she softly whines and smooshes her face into a pillow, thrilled to cause that reaction. “C’mon, please, Mary?”

“You’re not fighting fair.” The muffled complaint comes back, making him laugh, but she does as asked.

Bradley listens, humming along as she recounts her birthday for him and insisting for the hundredth time that it was his pleasure to give her presents. He lets her lead the conversation as it shifts to what’s happening in San Diego, content to watch her as she shares stories of what he’s missing at home. Happy to just admire her and occasionally ask questions.

It’s so easy to get lost looking at her. Dark hair swishing around her shoulders, just slightly shorter than it was in February. Her brown eyes look darker than usual, the low light in the room making them almost black instead of the warm brown he’s used to staring into. And despite resecuring the robe, it’s coming loose again, enough that the top curve of her breasts are visible; freckles dotted all over, disappearing beneath the baby blue fabric. Bradley thinks about what it would be like to connect the dots on her soft skin, tracing invisible lines with his fingers or lips. He imagines there’s more hiding behind the waffle material. He wonders if she’d let him find out.

The fantasy of how wonderful it would be to memorize every mark on her body is interrupted as red nail polish grabs his attention. He loves her hands, smaller than his but so strong when she’s working on a jet. Steady as she calls out instructions to her team, grease smeared up to her elbows and her nail color of the week shining through the black sludge. Mary insists that she doesn’t talk with her hands, that she managed to avoid that stereotypical Italian-American trait, but Bradley smirks as her hands swirl through the air. He’s about to interrupt the story she’s giggling through - something about the latest swear word that Danielle accidentally taught Annie - when something sparkly on her finger distracts him.

A ring.

A diamond ring.

A simple silver band lined with tiny diamonds.

On her ring finger.

On her left ring finger.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to study the never-before-seen piece of jewelry. Mary must notice his confusion because she cuts her story off and flashes her hand at the camera. “I bought this for myself when I got promoted for the first time. I went from EI to EII, which is entry-level engineer to associate engineer. It was $50 from this little shop that was on the same block as my first solo apartment in St. Louis.”

Relief sweeps through his body, thrilled that Mary hadn’t gotten engaged with him.

“That’s awesome. Have you done that every time you’ve moved up?”

“Kinda? I always buy myself some sort of gift - last time, I splurged and got that big blender we used at the Christmas party. But I’ve only done jewelry a few times. I think I’m going to get a necklace next time, something to match this.” She explains, wiggling her fingers so the gems shimmer in the camera.

“It’s very pretty.” Bradley compliments, feeling bold enough to go further. “You look good with a ring on that finger.”

“Jesus, Brad-”

She’s cut off by the two-minute alert popping up. They had been so distracted they weren’t paying attention to the countdown timer.

“Already?” Mary pouts, forehead crinkling as she frowns. “But I didn’t get to ask you about carrier food.

“It’s bad, honey. Yours is so much better.”

“Or how you’re sleeping.”

“Reuben’s snoring has somehow gotten even louder since last time we shared a bunkroom; Bob, Mickey, and I owe you for the extra earplugs you sent.”

“You’re sunburnt.”

“I’m wearing the sunscreen you gave me; the sun is just strong.”

“I knew I should have sent the SPF 75!” Bradley smiles as Mary throws her head back in faux despair. “Oh well, now I know for next time, I guess.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think I’d only send you a care package one time, did you? I gotta make sure you have everything you need. I know I missed some stuff this time, but I’ll get better in the future! I promise.”

I love you.

He just barely holds the words in.

“God, I fucking miss you.” He stares at the screen, watching the prettiest brown eyes in the world fill with tears at his words. “Oh, honey, please don’t cry. I’ll be home so soon.”

“But twenty-four days is such a long time, and I miss you so much.”

“I know, but we’ve already done 48 days. Twenty-four will be a breeze to get through.” The timer starts blinking, the last 60 seconds counting down. “I gotta get going, Mary. But you keep sending me flirty emails so I have something to read and think about.”

He chuckles at the little surprised noise she makes. “You noticed that?”

“Did I notice that? Mariella, in the kindest way, you are not subtle.”

“Well- I-” She splutters. “Neither are you!”

“I’m not trying to be, baby doll,” Bradley revels in her reaction to the pet name - mouth dropping open as she blinks at him, cheeks pinker than he’s ever seen - one he didn’t even mean to use.

The flustered hand she waves at the camera while yelling at him makes him laugh. “Bradley!”

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be safe. Only 24 days.”

“Only 24 days.”

“I miss you, handsome.”

Bradley's face feels hot, choked up at the look in her eyes, the softness of her words. “I miss you, too, baby doll.”

They don’t say goodbye, choosing to admire each other as the final seconds tick away.

5…

I can’t wait to see you in person.

4…

God, you’re so gorgeous.

3…

I don’t want to hang up.

2…

I miss you.

1…

I love you.

if you would like to be added (or removed) from the tag list please send an ask!

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

[dnfao3tags]

Monthly Fic Roundup - November 2023

i will make separate posts for dnf week fics so look forward to that. here are the regular fics posted this month :]

please take a couple seconds to leave some love !

— noughts & crosses by sageafk (expl. | comp. | 12k)

It's just instincts, but with everyone assuming Dream is an alpha and his sister sharing the news of her new litter of pups, George feels a little short. He needs to be fucked and bred and knotted, and his omega boyfriend will do everything he can to make him feel better.

— There's Hope Out The Window by Scoops (consciousness_streaming) (expl. | comp. | 14k)

Dream and George make a late night run for snacks and end up involved in a gas station robbery that makes them question everything they thought they knew.

— just his luck by dreamskis (expl. | comp. | 11k)

There is no way Dream just walked in on George getting off, evidence still pulled up on the screen in full high definition glory, and instead of doing the normal person thing and leaving to avoid any awkward conversations, he just… Plops himself down. Right on the other end of the couch, just a few feet away from where George is clutching the pillow to his lap for dear life, flames burning in his cheeks. As if this is any other normal interaction for the two of them. Like he walked in on George watching a new episode of Better Call Saul and not Brunet Twink is a Cock-Hungry Slut: Part II.

— you're not a friend again by cqfnce (mat. | comp. | 7k)

Dream blinks at him, big eyes wide. “George… That’s not how- Kissing does not work like that.” “So you’re good at kissing then?” George teases. Dream grins. “The best, actually.” “Prove it,” George replies, the words on the edge of his tongue since the conversation had started.

— tried and true blue by twostorms (expl. | comp. | 13k)

Sapnap decides to move out. George isn't sure what that means for him and Dream.

— just go home by hardtofindneuro (expl. | comp. | 14k)

Dream's busy and always expects George to change around the plans for him but George is tired of it. When George refuses to budge on his birthday plans, Dream tells him the one thing that makes him regret even coming to America in the first place.

— Can You Hear Me? by VicIsWriting (expl. | comp. | 12k)

He's pictured it a million different ways, maybe Dream meets him in the airport and they run into each other's arms while all the busy noise of Orlando International Airport melts away– and all they can hear is I love you radiating through their souls. It didn’t happen like that, obviously. Instead it was a driveway and sweltering heat, with Sapnap watching on. It was Dream walking out looking like a damn god with the sun glowing behind him, it’s an awkward hug and an unfamiliar smell.

— teach you how forever feels like by jack_not_found (mat. | comp. | 27k)

a spontaneous match on a dating app leads to the best thing that's ever happened to george: dream, and his son.

— goddamn blaze in the dark (you started it) by brokenlikeastitch (teen | comp. | 25k)

This is it, the culmination of seven years of friendship and a little over three years of…something else. George’s lips part, expectant, and just as he’s about to push forward and join them entirely, the kitchen light flips on. It’s abrupt the way the bubble around them pops, and Dream flinches back, startled at the interruption. George immediately feels colder, and his stomach sinks. So fucking close.

— time’s uncertain wing by snowdreamr (teen | comp. | 14k)

On loneliness and distance, but above all else, on the agony of being known—inside, out, and all around.

— if i got one thing right by nervouswaltz (teen | comp. | 4k)

George wants to adopt a cat. Dream realizes, with time, that he wants more.

— it's your birthday (make a wish) by newsouls (expl. | comp. | 1k)

In the shower before George's stream, he gets his first birthday gift of the day.

remember, you can always send your own favourites of the month for me to include!

[remidyal]

Bad Ideas of the Day, part 5, Even Worse Edition

It's time for my monthly-ish roundup of my regular bad ideas of the day from the D20 fanfic discord! Last month's is available here and has links back to all the prior ones because now there's too many for me to be bothered direct linking here!

As usual, these are a mix of fantasy high and other D20 prompts and are open for anyone who wants to do something with them, though I appreciate letting me know because I wanna read it!

Bad idea of the day, class swap (but not like that) edition: Due to a clerical error - namely, their cleric signed them up for it - all of the bad kids have to attend each other's classes for a week, resulting in Fabian sitting through a Worlds Religion lecture, Kristen doing her -3 Dex best to sneak around in rogue classes, Gorgug going to the bard classes that Fig never actually went to, Riz doing his best to remember everything Adaine's ever mentioned about how wizarding works, Fig faking fighting instead of raging for once, and Adaine trying to pass off her furious fist as just being how her anger manifests

Bad idea of the day, abc edition: In the village of Happly, at the harvest festival, Pinnochio enters his infamous bubblegum and whiskey pie and gets himself run out of town by a mob of angry villagers

Bad Idea of the Day, Toxic Masculinity is Undead edition: The adventurers of Solace are well aware of Halloween, because every year on that date the soulless corpses of villains slain in the past year rise again to chase after their killers. Can Fabian keep ahead of both Zombie Penelope Everpetal and Zombie Bill Seacaster?

Bad idea of the day, Figueroth Faeth's Day Off edition: Receiving notification halfway through junior year that one more unexcused absence is going to result in her being expelled, Fig drags her friends into a heist to break into the school, fake her attendance record and show that she's been there the whole time.

Bad Idea of the Day, Drama Edition: It turns out that there's a reason that Aguefort has a theater department. Once every hundred years, a performance must be put on that is quote truly moving unquote lest the school be destroyed, and it turns out that Riz is fated to play the heroine of the most recent attempt. Can the Bad Kids teach him to not botch his lines or hide under the stage?

Bad idea of the day, not all cats are good cats: Puss in Boots must fight off a new contender for children's hearts and minds as the trickster cat du dour. Can he successfully murder this strange cat and his lame rhymes and thing-like minions to keep his throne, or will he be the first to fall to seussian influences?

Bad idea of the day, death stalks you edition: Adaine starts sending out Solstice cards to people who annoy her throughout the year with prophecies of their deaths. Most of them she just makes up, but one or two are genuine every year just to mix things up.

Bad idea of the day, World's Greatest Detective edition: Riz is asked to solve a murder that seems to have all the classic detective tropes he truly loves involved; it's only partway through that he realizes that Fabian, with their friends' help, has staged it because they were all worried about Riz getting bored and spiraling between quests.

Bad idea of the day, I know Halloween was two days ago but I rewatched in the mouth of madness recently edition: The Bad Kids come to realize they are being controlled by mysterious and unknowable forces, and reach a decision: To cut off the flow of evil into the world, they are going to need to find and kill whatever a 'DM' is.

Bad idea of the day, I think we've all learned some valuable lessons here edition: The Dream Team realizes some kind of truly awful existence is sweeping over new york, in which every conversation and conflict ends with everyone having picked up a seemingly valuable but really quite shallow moral to the tale; they eventually figure out that it is in fact an attempt by a powerful sorcerer to turn the world into an after school special on this, a very special episode of The Unsleeping City.

Bad idea of the day, No Really A Starstruck ODYSSEY edition: The crew take a smash and grab job investigating missing people near a remote outpost, and discover a mad scientist conducting strange experiments but also offering great hospitality and food. Can the crew of the Wurst figure everything out before the more foolish of them (gunnie) end up as pigs?

Bad idea of the day, just how sure are you about this new god edition: In the summer before junior year, Fig and the Sig Figs record a music video for their new smash single. Watching it for the first time, Saint Kristen Applebees notices something in the video that noone else seems to be able to see: A familiar tabaxi, hanging out in the crowd watching the concert.

Bad idea of the day, that gum you like is going to come back in style edition: Fig at last discovers Porter's one flaw that makes him a truly intimidating barbarian with an unstoppable rage: Students putting chewed gum onto the bottom of their desks.

Bad idea of the day, ashes to ashes edition: Tired of Fig's chainsmoking cloves, Jawbone and Tracker stage an intervention to maybe at least talk her into some sort of rebellious vice that doesn't stink up the home of two werewolves with strong senses of smell at least

Bad idea of the day, my frog is real and so is magic edition: Adaine grows up without spellcasting ability at all until on the morning she starts at Aguefort, when on her way walking to school she runs across a frog who offers her magical powers she might be able to use to improve her life.

Bad Idea of the Day, You Wouldn't Steal a Car edition: Seeking to impress his father, Fabian gets into Solace's new age of piracy, selling illegal copies of movies, music and apps throughout Elmville. Will the lawsuits catch up to him in the end, or can his amass a horde of treasure suitable for a Seacaster?

Bad idea of the day, unfamiliar edition: At Some Point in the future, Jayhson feels a magical tug from afar and appears due to the whims of one of these 'humans' who has summoned a familiar. Can he kill this whizzered and get back to his family?

Bad idea of the day, I shot the Sheriff edition: Riz wakes up one fine morning in his office to discover Agent Angela Worrel came knocking in the night, and one of the traps his paranoid ass has set up for his office has killed her. Can he cover up this capital offense, or will Worrel finally succeed, posthumously, in getting at least one Bad Kid in jail long term?

Bad idea of the day, foreseeable problems edition: The Hangman gets impounded due to a series of unpaid parking tickets, leading Fabian to argue that the Hangman should count as a pet and not a vehicle. This results in him also getting tickets for having his dog off the leash.

Bad idea of the day, Heaven or Hell edition: Following an unfortunate but hopefully temporary death, Figueroth Faeth finds herself at the center of a dispute between the planes that threatens a war, as Hell wants its archdevil but Rock Heaven insists that they have a claim to everyone who has a rock album go platinum. Will this begin a true battle of the bands?

Bad idea of the day, I admit these are getting weirder edition: The bad kids wake up one morning in the midst of a campaign designed by just the worst kind of a DM, with railroaded sidequests, boring samey npcs, and combat every six feet. Can they figure out what's going on and escape back to Spyre before rocks fall and they all die?

Bad idea of the day, Lost Things and Misfit Toys edition: Irritated as hell at the blue fairy after ending up a puppet again, Pinocchio turns not to his new stepmother for power but instead someone else who dislikes the blue fairy, someone else who believes in the occasional misdirection, someone who is pretending to be the blue fairy's sister…. one "Gwendolyn Thistlehop".

Bad idea of the day, the WORST fusion edition: After she goes on a mission trip to parts unknown, all of the bad kids notice that Kristen is acting… odder than normal. This is because (burrow's end spoiler!) she's being piloted by chipmunks, of course.

[financeprincess]

Hi, what do you use for your vision board and goals? An app? Or you write them down/print pictures? Thank you

During Covid lockdown times I felt like I had a complete mental shift and I spent multiple days all day just sitting in nature in silence and wrote down everything that I wanted or what I wanted my life to be like that came to mind in a notebook. After I did that for a few weeks here and there, I organized it into a 10 year timeline. And from there I broke it down into a 5, 3, and 1 year timeline. The 1-3 year timeline is what I base my current goals off of. So I have those broken down into smaller parts to work towards. I also will monthly or quarterly look at my goal lists and make sure they all still align with what I want. You don’t want to be too rigid in your planning and end up working towards something that you’ve realized isn’t for you.

I have a habit tracker app for daily habits like skincare, working out, journaling, taking my vitamins, health/beauty appointments, etc. called Tally that I really like, I’ve been using it for a long time. I bought the premium version a very long ago and I use it every day so it was worth it to me.

For my vision board I take inspiration from my short/long term goals and then put together a Pinterest board with inspiration. Sometimes I pull stuff from Tumblr and put it on there too. I also have a completed section of my vision board where I can move images over to when I’ve accomplished certain things or traveled to certain places. It feels good to be able to look back and look at what I’ve already done.

I also have a personal altar/meditation corner in my bedroom that has all of my oils, herbs, incense, crystals, candles, sage, etc. and I have some personal items that have a lot of power for me. I have my crystals in my extra Tiffany jewelry bags. I have a card from Chanel they sent me for my birthday. I have a beautiful vintage silk scarf which was one of the first nice things I bought myself. I heard about how Jim Carey wrote a check to himself for $1 million when he was flat broke and he was able to cash it before the date he wrote it for, so I did that as well, amongst other things. I see these items every morning when I’m meditating or getting ready and they really excite me and help me align with what I want. Hope this helps 💋

[amenders93]

12 Weeks till Chicken Run 2

Love interests in movies (live-action or animated) can start with the simplest thing - the first time the couple ever see each other. Sometimes these first meetings can be romantic, sometimes they can be casual, and other times they can be really awkward. That’s why for the first weekly countdown post of Rocky and Ginger, I’m doing the scene where they first see one another.

This scene starts with Ginger coming out of one of the huts after the secret meeting. She’s frustrated because even though she tries to stay positive that the chickens will be free from the farm soon, it’s hard to when the other chickens are always doubtful and also just not as smart as Ginger is. Ginger starts to pray for a much needed miracle.

Then we hear an explosion and what sounds like someone screaming. Ginger hears the screaming as well and turns in the direction of the sound. She looks up to the sky to see what looks like a rooster flying through the air screaming, “Freedom”. Ginger is truly amazed at seeing another chicken flying over the fence, but what’s even more amazing is that this chicken is a rooster; a rather handsome rooster to boot.

Up in the air, Rocky is soaring over the farm enjoying his freedom and then glances down slightly until something, or someone, catches his eye - a rather pretty hen looking up at him. She chuckles with delight and he gives her a friendly salute.

Looks like a rather friendly first time meeting until it doesn’t end well. Because Rocky wasn’t looking where he’s going, he ends up crashing into the weather vane which spins him around and ends up flying towards the other direction. He then ends up into the power lines which springs him toward the chicken coop. He falls down into the chicken feed through and slides down inside it, then popping out into a couple of flips until he lands on his feet, right in front of Ginger. Rocky seems rather disoriented as he strikes a “ta-da” pose and groggily says, “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. You’ve been a wonderful audience.”

Ginger looks at him a little worried. And if that wasn’t bad enough, when Rocky popped out of the trough, he managed to get it up on one side tipping it over towards him. It then crashes right on top of him, causing him to sprain his left wing and knock him unconscious. A poster then drops from the sky and lands right into Ginger’s hand. After looking at it, she realizes this is the answer to her prayers - this “flying” rooster will teach all the chickens how to fly out of the farm. Hearing the dogs barking and Mr. Tweedy coming, she ushers the other chickens to rush Rocky inside a hut to hide him from the farmers and bandage up his sprained wing.

This first time meeting of love interests is one type of classic example of an awkward meeting. Rocky and Ginger first laid eyes on each other and were impressed with what they saw until it ended badly with one of them getting hurt and knocked out. Despite that incident, every time I see this scene, I cannot help but thinking to myself how they never knew it but they end up seeing their future husband/wife, not to mention the future mother/father of their future daughter as well.

Anyway this is my first weekly Rocky/Ginger moment post commemorating the upcoming sequel to Chicken Run. I hope you enjoyed this post. There will be 11 other posts about the first film coming up in the future as well as 2 monthly posts about the sequel. Waiting for this long-awaited sequel may not be easy but these posts are making it easier as the release date draws nearer.

[twilightknight17]

P3R while I was gone, part 2: featuring unnecessary romantic issues, ride or die, and the last full moon.

In the last two weeks before the end of everything, we visit Fuuka’s class next door, where Natsuki has an announcement to make!

“Goodbye everyone, I’ll remember you all in therapy!” XD

More seriously, though, Fuuka is very upset. But they have a lovely conversation on the roof, and Natsuki promises to keep in touch. It helps Fuuka realize that she finally has real friends and a place to belong, and it leads to her persona evolving.

Juno is cool. ^_^ I like the wings.

I spend my time after school with Bebe to finish off his social link. He’s taking the kimono back to France to show his uncle, in the hopes that he’ll be allowed to continue living in Japan.

I’m not sure how leaving in the middle of the second semester works, but I guess it’s okay?

Considering Maiko, I’m starting to think most of my social links are going to end with people leaving. The bookshop couple didn’t, but like… they own the store. But anyone not specifically tied down has a chance of disappearing.

….DANGER NOODLE! I was wondering if you were here!!

I’ve only got one ongoing nighttime social link, so I have some time for browsing the websites I’ve bought from the deep web informant. This time, we’re going to check out a blog that guarantees to increase the yield of my crops. ^_^

……………….is… is this really the website link we bought from a sketchy dude in a club? God. At least it told me where to buy golden tomato sprouts.

The next day, we’re heading back to Tartarus to retrieve our monthly victims who wander in, as well as another cat!

Another one of my social links is in trouble, and it’s Maiko this time, which… how dare? That is a child?

Maiko was supposedly moving away that day, so… I wonder if it’s always the same links that go missing, or if it’s random. Because both times, I’ve been warned of dire consequences if I don’t save them, but it’s also been people I’ve already maxed. So that’s kind of silly.

We’ve also found the last(?) memoir piece in Monad, which…

Prince, huh? Does that make me the prince’s consort? :D

We had to leave Tartarus because we’ve reached another border floor. I GUESS we’ll never get to see what’s past it, since Tartarus is going to disappear after the next full moon. It’s SO SAD that we’ll never see the top. Can’t believe the game is almost over.

Lmao

Anyway, back to social linking and school. XD

Never change, sensei.

I’ve been helping Yuko train some elementary schoolers to run a race against the middle-school kids who want to take over their play area. They tied their race and apparently made friends with the middle-schoolers, so we’re having a party to celebrate their success, even though they keep calling me Yuko’s boyfriend. I laughed it off, and so did Yuko.

No problem! Your room’s nice. Cool stereo.

We laughed that off, right???? So why are you asking me about whether I’d want my hypothetical kid to be a boy or a girl. In conjunction with talking about your future kids?

Yeah, apparently picturing our future children. X’’’’D Look, Yuko, you’re great, and I’m glad you’ve discovered what kind of career path you want to take in the future. But I don’t think this is gonna work out.

I forgot that eventually I’m going to have to start turning down people developing crushes on me. It always makes me feel a little bad because I do like them, I just don’t want to date them?

(I want to date Mitsuru, but I’m not a ~*genius*~ yet.)

At least Aigis is having fun with her yakuza novels.

After school the next day, I receive a call from Kenji, who is freaking the hell out.

Dude, what the fuck. Were you just going around talking about this to people other than me? I thought it was a secret.

But the man in my dreams insists that I remember the consequences of my actions, so you should too. I don’t know what you expected to happen when you decided to court the ETHICS TEACHER. FFS, Kenji. Keep it together. I don’t even know if I can offer advice for this one.

At least Strega is having real problems.

They grew up in a lab, with only each other. I can understand their feelings regarding that, at least. It’s the same sort of thing as with Goro in P5R. Removing the memories of those experiences would completely change who they are as people. Like, they’re not a good people, but the solution to that is not wiping everything and making them someone else.

Jin still remembers what Takaya told him, to get him through all of that.

Taking that away would be… cruel.

But we can’t keep going like this, either.

There’s two days left, and only one of my Sunday social links is ready to rank up, so let’s go hang out with my track rival!

...you know, at least you have parents and siblings. Mine are dead. Please don’t assume anything about me. :/

So now, at last, it’s the night before the finale! Time for one last team meeting. Everyone is grateful to me for being leader, and Mitsuru is finally willing to fess up what her real reason for fighting is. It’s not entirely about righting her family’s wrongs. It’s about protecting her father.

She’s been doing this since probably even BEFORE middle school. No wonder she wants to bring an end to it so badly.

Well, we all know what’s coming. Strega is going to try to stop us. But we can’t stop now.

Takaya, you’re still not wrong, but you’re being willfully ignorant of what the actual problem is.

Jin is a Fortune arcana, and his persona looks like a spinny dice. :D

But there’s more of us than there are of them, so this was never really a contest, even if they are strong.

I dunno if evokers are really “naturally awakened”, but… yeah. Forcing it isn’t good for you. That should be obvious.

Mitsuru wasn’t aware of the fact that the Kirijo Group was experimenting on people. Which, she was a child, so I’m not surprised. But based on the note Takaya gave me before, part of the reason to experiment on other kids was to make things safer for Mitsuru. So… we probably shouldn’t tell her that.

I’m starting to think we don’t know a lot of things.

Takaya is willing to shoot himself with his real gun, but Jin stops him. Even if it’s just so he doesn’t go by himself.

They fall back over the side of the bridge, and then it’s just us and the final shadow.

Honestly, I hate the Hanged Man. The fact that it’s being held up by hooks in its skin is gross. X’D The gimmick was interesting, though. It could give itself a bunch of extra turns, and it hit really hard. Not quite final-boss hard, but it was a challenging fight.

But we won!

We can go home content in the knowledge that the world is now safe from the Arcana Shadows.

...I didn’t even know you could exist outside of the Dark Hour, honey. Wow. This is surreal.

What do you think of the sun? Have you ever seen it before? Have you seen it through me?

Yeah. Things are good. ^_^

……….

Can you at least tell me why you have to leave?? What did you remember? What ruined this miracle? I might need to know that?????

If you cry, I’m going to cry.

I wish I could hug him, but… God forbid a protagonist be allowed to hug anyone. Except Yukari in Yakushima. X’’’’D

I’ll see you soon, Pharos. Love you.

[alyjojo]

April 🤯 2024 Monthly - Gemini

Preshuffle: You could be saving money, or collecting grudges, for the purpose of quitting something eventually. Your job? You just want to move forward in a different direction, you’re not happy with the way things currently are…or you could be realizing a new thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either.

Meditation: It could be a particular person at work that really grinds your gears, they’re showing up as someone on your level, maybe the person sitting next to you. In the vision, you were seeing them as a clapping seal (which cracked me tf up), just OR OR OR OR shuuut up! You can’t concentrate, can’t focus, this person drives you absolutely nuts & you’re thinking “as if I don’t distract myself enough.”

Main energy: 5 Pentacles

Oof. Okay I don’t see anything DEEP per se, and maybe it’s just an off day, week, something like that. Your oracles showing Gemini & Sag, could be a Sag placement that especially annoys you this month, fire is heavy, or it’s just someone not like you. The differences between you and someone else are really getting under your skin this month and you could be bottling them up…either to explode in some glorious temper tantrum later on (it’s gotta come out somehow) or you could just be planning on bringing down a Tower, kicking this b*tch to the curb and never coming back again. Moving to Barbados. BYE ✌️But don’t actually. I see Calm & an Apology here too so…keep your cool Gem. Your ego is on fire this month and you’re ready to take on something NEW. Maybe make that a hobby or something instead, start small. This could be someone you’re newly dating as well, they’re hot but they drive you nuts. You enjoy the lusty bits. That may just be enough to overcome the irritation, for now 😆

What’s going on in April:

Queen of Wands:

This feels like whoever the irritation is. Could be your partner, for most it probably is. Could be work too, and if so this connection is *normally* stable, it’s just this month is your cranky month and it’s their defensive or can’t shut tf up month and you two are clashing hard. Could be over money, especially if you’re doing their job FOR them, which is someone’s story. There’s a deadline and this person gabs all fkn day, maybe you’ve had to stay late or something because of them or you’ve been delayed and held back, it irritates tf out of you. Even if you like/love them, you’re defensive about whatever it is they’re doing. You feel confined, building grudges, tryinggg to keep your mouth shut BUT UM. Bitch. Look. 👏

4 Pentacles:

I’m dying here. You want to quit, or end this, you think about it frequently, it could get you through the day. Like revenge scenarios. “Just wait, I’m gonna save up 6 months worth of bills and disappear”, that is literallyyyy what I heard! Vengeful! On the other hand, this can always be switched so, if someone is noticeably irritated IJS. On the bottom, for most of you that this is a partner or someone new you’re seeing, you could be feeling like you went too fast too soon, rushed into this one before you really even knew them. Or a job, a home maybe, something that your personal and financial stability banks on. I heard a neighborhood for someone, like the house is great but it’s surrounded by crazy people. Now it’s oh no. For someone it’s possible someone is withholding sex, and that’s the thing that’s irritating you, they’ve got all sorts of reasons and bs and it’s been long enough in your mind, don’t you matter too?

Judgement:

Whew, for someone I heard “I’m here to work not make friends”. Idk if you’re saying this out loud or not, maybe not, you’re definitely thinking that in the work story. If a person, you could be considering going back to someone you dated before, maybe you appreciate them more now that they’re gone, it’s someone that put in a lot of effort for you. You could simply be internally judging this persons work ethic or standards of living, by some practical means, maybe they’re the life of the party and you’re the worker - so they leave you to it and don’t even try to help you. The Hanged Man at the bottom shows a need for perspective, I don’t think you’re coming right out with this vengeful energy, but it’s stewing beneath the surface. Being judgy. You have a hard time celebrating the positive moments because the effort parts aren’t being taken seriously enough in your opinion. It could be way too much on you. With Optimism and Versatility, while I see you want to pop off hard, Spirit is trying to talk you off the ledge. Think positively, to with the flow, try to see things differently, rather than just up and moving to Barbados like it’s not *that* bad. Could be improved though 🙏

Strength:

See, a much better row. IF you hold back, bite your tongue, things are going to balance out. Either with work or your person, Queen & King of Pentacles are showing up together. This person could be in a phase of feeling larger than life, sexy, excited, at a time when you’re not. Sag rising maybe? Then you both would always be experiencing opposite house activations at all times, not easy to overcome, except by realizing that this is an individual person that’s on a whole different timeline than you. If it’s work month, pain in the ass month, this could be party month for them - or it was and is now changing. Synastry could help figure your person out in comparison to yours, a partner. You have different highs and lows, I don’t see this person as bad. Not annoying, not brash, not full of bologna. They’re willing to meet you on your level…eventually, not right away. Or things will work out where you don’t even have to say anything, a boss will, they’ll just pick up on it, they’ll tire of the last phase and see you’re overworked - stepping in. If it’s a house or neighborhood, then you can’t do anything but look right now, waiting for *the right* thing before you move - but you definitely intend to.

6 Swords:

Moving away, from drama, from where you live, from someone that drives you nuts, from your job. You are one foot in and one foot out the door at all times. Page of Swords at the bottom can be opening up and talking about this with some people, you’re trying to learn more details about the situation in question, or you’re just very observant. If a job, you’re looking for job. If a house, you’re looking for houses. If someone drives you batshit, you wonder if you should even tell them? Or just move on? It feels like you have every reason to see this as a positive thing, and you need to remain calm things will work out just fine. Not the day you want to flip out though, that day maybe fake sick and buy a fancy ice cream or something. Chill 🍨 For your mental health.

Signs you may be dealing with:

🔥 Aries, Leo, Sagittarius, Capricorn & Taurus

Oracle: ✨

33 Integration 🧬

We are a sum of all of our experiences in this and other lives. We all bring forward a wealth of knowledge, talents, and wisdom. One of the challenges is remembering who we are. We are bombarded every day in every way with messages on who we should be, what we should do, what we should wear, how we should live…

These messages coming from the media, society, our family and friends, and even strangers can drown out who we are really meant to be: who we have grown into lifetime after lifetime. Find some quiet moments in your day to identify and start a relationship with that small, strong voice inside of you. Pretty soon you won’t hear the other messages. Many times in your interactions with others, you hear that small voice tell you something is not right. Your logical mind tells you stop it, nothing is wrong, you’re being silly/dramatic or overreacting. You may ignore your inner voice in a quest to fit in, be loved or admired. You do not realize that your inner voice is warning you that the other person’s energy is not matching their words or actions. Listen to your instincts about this situation or person.

Confinement 🪢

Captivity - Tolerance - Unfreedom

Calm 😌

Inner Peace - Simplicity - Meditation

Apology 😞

Guilt - Confession - Forgiveness

Optimism 😁 Moon - Sagittarius

Versatility 🤸‍♂️ Sun - Gemini

We enter into April as:

Topaz 💛

“If I seek peace, I must embrace my fears.”

Topaz speaks: “To be enlightened is to realize that to gain peace, fear in the heart must be faced.” If Topaz has come to you, he is telling you that it is time to stop talking about what you intend on doing. You must just do it. Things happen for us when we take action, which is the only way to break through what is holding us back. The change that is called for here is surrender, which is an action in itself. No great tasks were ever achieved easily. Remember we do a lot to avoid what we feel will hurt us; you must understand that the pain will recede if you face your fears, allowing you to walk through to the other side. Topaz whispers “Pray for guidance and you will be assisted.” Do not despair, for if Topaz has come to you, relief awaits. By facing your fears, peace and enlightenment will be your reward. That is the gift. All you need to do is ask.

What is to be learned in April:

The Emerald Stone 🧩

“The heart knows what the eyes cannot see.”

There are times when things happen to us and no explanation is possible. Often our journey brings us full circle, leaving many of us to wonder why. The Emerald Stone is inviting you to follow through in whatever is before you. Going back is not an option. Forward movement will change your entire perspective on life - for the better. You may now be able to hear something that you have been told many times. Your reward will be a closer relationship with yourself. If Emerald Stone sparkles for you, it is with the understanding that you are now developing a new perception of things. The Stone welcomes you out of the dark and into your heart.

Green may be a lucky color 💚

[esoteric-butcher]

Star Date: Helios 8’44” Aries 29/3/2023

Hour of Saturn Day of Mercury

Luna 15’21” Cancer Mansion 6 “Al Hana” Phase: 2nd Quarter

Stellar Host: Alhena

Four Card Spread for the Week A.T.T.: IX of Wands, IX of Pentacles, The Hanged Man, and the V of Pentacles

Correlating Astrology: Rahu in Taurus I (5 of Disks)

Interesting Astrology: Rahu (5’33” Taurus) Square Pluto (0’06” Aquarius)

So after a week of Moon Rise Rituals I’ve already noticed a few things. The first surprising thing I found interesting is that it has helped SLOW DOWN TIME. I for one would/ve thought that ,with Luna being the quickest to travel around the Zodiac (once per month), if anything it would have sped time up. However, after contemplating it for a time I’ve realized that it is interrupting the “Hamster Wheel Effect” of daily living. Luna rises at a dramatically different time each day as she glide further and further from her monthly tea time with Helios. So my prayer is at a different time everyday. Also, Because each of her “Mansions” or “Stations” is named of a different star this adds even more nuance and deeper meaning to the 7 day cycle. This minutia added to each moment helps drag time down.

Speaking of slowing things down. I already noticed a slow down in my posts naturally and I think that I acknowledge this trend. So I’ll be posting once or twice a week intentionally instead of randomly posting when I feel I can fit it in. Another thing that this is going to do is broaden my spread’s and seek out more detailed meanings. So I hope you enjoy this journey with me.

The spread I’m looking at is a 4 card spread. I shuffled and cut several times between each pull to give time for the energies to speak for themselves. The first card is in the “Top” position and I asked that this card represents myself. The rest of the cards were pulled from left to right in order and for each I simply asked for “energies or archetypes to look for this week”.

For me is the Ram standing on top of the mountain. Battle hardened and wise. Behind me is the 9 Wands. Representing the achievement of will and succeeding through rigorous testing and trials. All “Nines” speak to a kind of pride of the moment. They also precede a moment of the cresting of the hill, turning of the wheel, and the end of a task completed.

The 3 cards below work together to tell a story. First we have another nine the IX of Pentacles, then The Hanged Man, and finally the V of Pentacles. This isn’t a linear story from left to right but there are energies here that can weave in and out of each other.

The Hanged Man is the ultimate fluid state, The sacrifice of the self to flow with the tide. In this deck it is a honey pot ant that sacrifices it’s own desires and no longer travels to the outside world in order to be the source of nectar for their fellow ants. This is a card that revels in the moment and has sacrificed will and choice to the greater or higher self. More refined than The Fool for the Hanged Man has shored up some knowledge and skill through its life and now can be used as a tool for a specific purpose by the higher united consciousness for the greater good. Also not to be confused with the Hierophant. Even though both have deep spiritual meaning. The Hanged Man is not tied to any one devotion or place of worship. It has no boat to traverse the mighty waters. Nor a flock to guide through the valley of death. The Hanged Man simply lays in the river and lets it pull them too and fro wherever the mighty tides shall take them.

The V of Pentacles is always a reminder of making due with what you can. All “Fives” reveal a conflict or a strife in the moment and the element. Here we see the element of Pentacles or material needs being met through the harvesting of pelts. This is a great reminder of how we live in a system that, more often than not, asks us to do things that we don't like in order to fulfill our needs. The fur trade is historically known to be a wasteful act in order to fulfill the greedy desire of the glutenous and slothy class. Thousands of miles away in a city in france they decide that Beaver Pelt is the most desired for fashion. Then along riverbanks all across the lands of “Turtle Island” beavers were swept up and dragged away by the thousands. Thus leaving their communities without their most skilled damn builder which provided eddy’s for both fish and birds to make use of for nesting and laying of eggs.

The IX of Pentacles draws us also back to a look out over accomplishments before we proceed on to the new. This regal looking tortoise has all they need to feel comfort and stability. Even the wall behind them aids in their protection. Sometimes the cards are speaking to the moment. However, this time I feel it is speaking to a future. Have you ever written a “Time Capsule Spell”? Have you ever made a “Story Board” for your future? All of us can identify the power of the mind. Especially when it comes to sending us into depression spirals or being frozen in worry and anxiety. The mind is also used the other way. As a way to create bliss harmony and desired results.

I feel The Hanged Man here is an act of remedy here. For in order to become “Co Creators” of our realities we must recede into the cave of ourselves. Carve time away from everything else. The screens, the music, the streets, and the vibration of lights around us. Sitting with ourselves. We can find a new path away from the burdens of the 5 of pentacles and bridge a path to the 9 of pentacles. Write a story about waking up in your ideal life. What does it feel like. Where are you? What’s out your window? Get all the details down. Then seal it up and read it on your birthday (or any day you think would be significant). Then rewrite it. Surrendering to the imagination can help us open doors to the world we want to step into.

I hope this helps.

As always. Thanks for listening,

Devon

End 11:15 am pst Hour of Mars

[occult-roommates]

The monthly curse

A week had passed since the roommates had arrived in Brindleton Bay. Most of that week had been spent chilling on the beach or walking around town, just a relaxing moment in their life for once, where nothing of notes happened. No, Audrey still had no clue Kino was an alien. Then, one late afternoon, she decided to pull out the sprinkler to play with it, which she quickly got joined by Kino, Matteo, and Dawud. Nearby, Daniele and Rudi were sitting by a fence, reminiscing about that one weird ass episode of Goosebump where the plot twist is the kids were dogs that whole time like what the fuck.

Rudi: Once in middle school I told a friend who betrayed me that she was like the kids in that episode cause she was secretly a bitch this whole time and that's the story on how I ended up in a fight for the first time. Daniele: Damn that's crazy. Anyway, look at Audrey. Look at all her whimsy, I want what she's on. Dawud: Heyy, what are you doing. Daniele: Talking about what Audrey is on and that I want it. Dawud: ....The autism spectrum? Daniele: Yeah, I want to be on the autism spectrum. Rudi: Well then I have some amazing news for you Dan! Daniele: What do you mean by that? Dawud: Ok, I'm going back to the sprinkler.

Daniele looked at Dawud playing with Matteo. No, this did not hurt him at all...not one ounce.

Rudi: By the way, this morning I had to buy a pregnancy test for Audrey cause she was too embarrassed to buy one for herself especially since the father is a guy she met on Tinder and went on only one date with before realizing he's kind of a dick. Which like...kinda weird she relied on me for that. Like what, did Dawud declined or something? Daniele: Oh yeah, I know, he told me. It's not him who declined, it's his credit card. Rudi: Wait, I know! Does Matteo want kids? Daniele: Nope. Rudi: Perfect! We should give mad baby fever to Dawud, difference in wanting to start a family or not is a huge reason for breaking up. Daniele: That is fucking awful Rudi! Rudi: Hey, I said to give him baby fever not to sabotage their birth control.

They gently pushed Daniele, laughing. He, however, did not found that funny. Quickly, Rudi apologized and tried to pick him, even though they personally thought they had done nothing wrong...When suddenly their vision went blurry and every color turned a weird shade, red completely disappearing into a brownish hue.

Rudi: SHIT! Daniele: What? Rudi: I just went colorblind. I knew that time of the month was coming, but shit! Why couldn't it be next week when we're leaving...I hate this... Daniele: Becoming colorblind sounds like a very odd symptom I think you should see a gynecologist about that...Wait don't you have a dick? Rudi: What are you talking about you moron? I'm obviously talking about turning into my beast form, cause my vision becomes like the one of a dog or a wolf. What does "that time of the month" have to do with gynecology? Daniele: ...I don't think I'm the one being a moron here... Rudi: Shut up! Daniele: But why are you freaking out? You're a werewolf, so what? You're not telling me the bad bitch you are who is always openly yourself is ashamed of that...By the goddess Hecate, are you? I mean, I've been living with you for more than two years and I never saw your beast form. You kinda just go missing for a few days. Rudi: It's for you guys safety. You don't wanna have a rampaging werewolf in a tiny apartment don't you? For someone who has been a werewolf since birth, I'm terrible at controlling my beast form. At least I no longer randomly turn into it like when I was younger. Daniele: Don't worry ok. I'll use magic to protect the rest of the group. Rudi: That is not reassuring in the slightest.

According to the family lore, the Marrons used to be fully human up until an ancestor in the late 1800s fell in love with a werewolf, and he let her bit him on purpose. And boy, does Rudi hates that ancestor, cursing him for making them cursed.

Prev - Next

[keepthisholykiss]

I am officially 1-month postgrad and because I found it VERY hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when I was in grad school I want to share what has changed since. Here's everything I have noticed or that's changed for me in the 30 days I've officially been a person with a master's degree.

I am making crafts, art, and writing. I found it very difficult to write or make anything when in grad school. But as of like 2 weeks or so ago I have made a fairly large pile of crafts and have plans for more. I don't feel too scared to do it now and it doesn't feel like too much pressure to relax.

I have signed my first publishing agreement. This was something in-progress before I graduated but my essays will be published (currently a tentative agreement for 5 minimum) in the next year. I have a stack of about 10 abstracts to submit also and think by 2025 I'll probably have 15ish publications out or coming up.

My migraines halved. I have a chronic migraine condition that has no "known" cause. I am on monthly injections to prevent them and I take acute meds with every migraine I get. My migraines are roughly 1/2 as frequent as when I started grad school.

I don't want to cry or die 24/7. My grad school experience was so bad that I found it very hard to not crumble into a pile of dirt 24/7. A decent portion of this was the specific issues of my school and what happened during my program. While all my woes aren't cured, a large amount of them are. I did not realize how much of my stress was grad school, it was at least 3x as much as I thought.

My chronic health issues have largely gotten worse. In particular my bladder disease and endometriosis. I had my second ever excision surgery vaguely planned for sometime in the next year, I had to move that date up to ASAP. My body lost a lot of its stressed which caused my chronic health issues to come rushing back even harder it was like holding a plate for 2 years. Your hand wouldn't hurt in the end but the minute you let go of the plate you discover you have developed carpal tunnel.

I won't do updates like this very often but when I was in grad school it was so hard to conceptualize my life after graduation. I looked for posts like this and I hope this can help someone or just amuse someone. I'll probably do like a 6 month and 1 year update too!

[landinrris]

A few of my mutuals have done this in the past, and starting the new year off (since we're still in January) I wanted to have some accountability for myself while working on WIPs. Some accountability from me and a bit of content for those who are interested.

To start off, this week's bit is from the first chapter that's part three of the Taste My Disaster mini verse (a.k.a. "uni au part 3" and "sleeping with other people part 3").

---

The meeting is full of the same people who have been here the last two times. The same watery coffee and store-bought cookies sit on the foldable table off to the side of the audience of foldout chairs. 

They’re in the rec hall of a church down on the lower west side— which means it’s basically the room every after-hours meeting gets held. Anywhere from monthly women’s club meetings to the local Girl Scouts chapter. Tonight, it plays host to the illustrious tales of self-proclaimed sex addicts.

One of the reasons Carlos doesn’t mind coming to these meetings occasionally is that they don’t require everyone to speak. The lectern is pretty much an open mic to vent one’s gripes about any and everything after the chairman says a few opening remarks. A few usual suspects can always be counted on to speak with a smattering of newer people as well. 

Carlos listens politely enough. His phone remains in his pocket, and he only dissociates a small bit when the speaker starts going off on an unrelated tangent (he’s surprised how often it happens given the number of times he’s been here).

And then suddenly, Carlos is looking up and sees a ghost seated diagonally from him and three rows up. A ghost with dark curly hair that’s styled up from his forehead sitting there with his arms crossed over his chest and sunken into the chair— like he’s trying to hide from the rest of the room. He’s familiar in a way that unnerves Carlos— in a way that makes his blood freeze in his veins and his stomach drop out from beneath him. The guy adjusts his shoulders and reaches up to scratch at the edge of his eyebrow closest to Carlos with the tip of his index finger. 

Up at the front at the lectern, the guy ranting on about a Tinder date has launched into a bit about his feelings and miscommunication, but towards the back of the room, Carlos’ brain finally clicks in a rather mortifying way. 

The name pops into his mind so abruptly that he nearly screams because how could he forget. How could he forget that the guy sitting three rows up diagonal to him is Lando. Lando Norris. The one-night stand from the Spring of his first year as a master’s student that turned into so much more. Lando, who he spent the next year with before having to go home to Spain with his newly minted master’s in Sports Management while Lando stayed behind to finish his bachelor’s degree. 

Lando, with whom Carlos tried to make it work long distance— and succeeded for a time— before time differences and meeting other people eventually got in the way. Lando, who Carlos guiltily realizes now, he hasn’t thought about in a few years. 

Carlos’ heart lurches in his chest at the memories that come flooding back, at the pictures buried deep in his iCloud that he could probably still find fairly easily. Hell, if he digs through his box of documents and school things from back then, he could probably find a picture or two that Lando had printed out for them to have. 

His throat feels tight then, his eyes pricking at the edges with what feels suspiciously like tears. There is no way he’s doing this right now— no way he’s getting emotional over a relationship that more or less mutually ended almost ten years ago. Carlos pinches the skin between his thumb and forefinger with his nails to pull his mind away from thoughts of the past. 

Thirty-four-year-olds don’t get emotional at Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings about their graduate school boyfriends.