#mildly sobbing but its fine

[lights-at-night]

finished reading detective beebo!

[evie-sturns]

boyfriend - Matt Sturniolo

summary: where your boyfriend of 2 years breaks up with you without reason, you go to your comfort place, your best friend matt's house and he does everything he can to calm you down.

contains: fluff, bestfriend!matt, crying, comforting.

--------------└── •✧• ──┘-----------------

panic flushes over me, my body heats up as my eyes scan over the screen of my phone. i instantly call him, my boyfriend aiden

"are you serious aiden?" i raise my voice as he picks up the phone,

"we're done, i told you." he says blankly with next to no emotion in his voice, hes been my boyfriend for just over 2 years.

he knows the shape of my lips against his,

he knows that i can't sleep by myself,

he knows my family,

he knows my daily routine from the second i wake up to the second my head hits the pillow.

and now he breaks up with me over text.

"why!?" i cry, i hear a subtle scoff from aiden before he hangs up. i instantly start to sob, throwing myself up off my bed and grabbing my keys.

i run downstairs and out the door into the night air, making my way down my driveway towards my cute small car.

i slam the door to my car shut, sinking down into the drivers seat as i check my phone. i've been blocked on almost everything already.

tears soak my cheeks as i let out shaky sobs.

--------

11:49

i knock twice on matt's front door, wearing sweatpants and a small shirt. my shoulders are by my sides, shaking up and down with each panicked cry.

after a couple of seconds the door opens slowly, i'm met with matts face.

he looks down at me, a short gasp escapes his mouth as he looks at the state of me.

he grabs my hand and frantically pulls me inside, "hey- hey whats going on?" matt asks , trying to sound calm.

"matt- matt." i sob, he grabs me and pulls me into a tight up, running his mildly shaking hand up and down my back

"shh.. sh sh." matt attempts to shush me before pulling me down the corridor into his bedroom.

he throws me down onto his matress, instantly chucking a blanket over me and sitting down next to me.

he waits for me to speak, still completely unaware why i showed up to his house in floods of tears at midnight.

"i- aiden broke up.. with- with me" i manage to squeeze out in between shaking breathes.

matt goes silent before pulling me onto his lap, holding me across him. i cry into his shirt

"over text with no reason-!" i continue

matt stays silent, breathing deeply. i copy his breathing pattern "you 'wanna know something?" matt says, i nod

"he's made a big mistake, you're the most lovely girl i know. aiden doesn't know what hes lost because- i know, i know that he will regret letting go of the most gorgeous, sweet girl ever." matt sighs,

"yeah?" he continues, i nod shyly.

he rubs my arm, "you can let it all out okay?" matt says softly, picking me up and standing up out of bed, he pulls back the silky sheets of his bed before placing me.

he lays down next to me, pulling up the blanket over us, i lay my head on his chest.

"he never cared about me matt." i admit "and now half my shit is- its just stuck in his apartment" i sniffle, wiping my nose on his shirt which matt doesn't bat an eye to.

"you know what, i'll go get it now okay? chris can come stay in here while im gone." matt says, heaving himself up of the bed

"matt you don't have to do that- honestly," i protest, matt just shakes his head

"don't worry 'bout it." he says, walking out of the room.

-

chris walks into the room wearing blue pyjama pants and a loose fit white shirt, he has a concerned expression on his face as he flops down on the bed beside me

"you okay?" he asks, "i don't know- i'll be fine." i reply with a strained voice.

"matt told me what happened, i'm sorry about aiden or whatever the fuck hes called." chris sighs

he wraps an arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to his side, we lay in a comfortable silence for about 30 minutes before matt comes back

"im sorry i gotta take a shit, thats my fault give me a couple minutes." chris blurts out

"thanks chris." i laugh slightly as he sits up, walking out of the room.

-

matt comes back in holding 2 bags in his hands, he brings them over to me with a soft smile on his face. he reaches his ringed hand up and scratches the side of his face.

"you didn't have to- how'd it go..?" i say, matt lays back down next to me

"he was screaming at me the whole time, all 'who the fuck are you' but i think he recognised me after a minute of ransacking your room." matt laughs

i shake my head "i'm sorry."

"don't be" matt says,

"try go to sleep now okay?" he says pressing a kiss to my forehead.

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

TAGLIST:

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt

[gracie-eilish]

fall-ing… part two

pairings: up and coming singer!reader x billie

warnings: mention of ankle injury per part one

an: if billie flirted with me while dressed like this i’d genuinely drop dead right there😍

… this is the most fanfiction fanfic i’ve ever written😂😂

You’d been trying to avoid the press of bodies inside the Met for the better part of half an hour.

It was too hot, too loud. Your dress, for all its beauty, was beginning to itch. Your ankle pulsed dully, just enough to remind you that yes, you had dramatically fallen on the most prestigious red carpet in fashion history. At least you were no longer the center of every lens.

Now, you were perched out on one of the few less crowded balconies that overlooked the city. The air was blessedly cool, wrapping around your flushed skin as you leaned back on the high-top stool, ankle elevated on a cushioned ottoman some staffer had mercifully fetched for you.

Sabrina Carpenter sat beside you, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, sipping champagne from a slender glass and leaning into your space like you were telling her a secret. The two of you knew each other since you were both on the same record label. You thanked the stars when you saw the tiny blonde bouncing around earlier, happy to have a friend somewhere in the sea of industry strangers.

“Okay, okay, but you have to admit it,” she said between giggles. “You still looked damn good even when you faceplanted.”

You groaned, throwing your head back with a dramatic sigh. “Sabrina, please. I’m begging you. Let me fade quietly into obscurity.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed, “after tonight? Obscurity left the chat. You’ve officially entered the cultural lexicon.”

You covered your face with your hands. “I want to die.”

She just laughed and nudged your shoulder. “You’re fine. Trust me, if I’d biffed it like that, I’d be sobbing in the bathroom. You got rescued by Billie fucking Eilish. In front of the whole damn world. That’s not humiliation, that’s like.. fanfic.”

You blinked at her. “I was trying not to think about that part.”

But before she could reply, her gaze shifted over your shoulder. Her brows lifted, mouth twitching into a knowing smirk.

“Speaking of fanfic,” she murmured. “Incoming.”

You followed her line of sight, and your heart promptly tripped over itself again.

Billie.

She was walking toward you like something out of a fever dream. Her dress moved like smoke, and even though her expression was cool and composed, her eyes found yours like a heat-seeking missile. She looked like she belonged to another world, but in that moment, it felt like she’d stepped out of it just for you.

You sat up straighter without meaning to.

“Billie!” Sabrina called out, lifting a hand.

Billie smiled softly and nodded. “Hey pretty girl!!”

Sabrina turned to you with a grin that said ‘I’m about to be annoying’ and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t say I never did anything for you,” before standing up.

“I’m gonna grab drinks. You guys talk,” she announced, already walking away.

You shot her a ‘don’t you dare’ look, but she just winked and vanished through the balcony doors.

Billie stepped up beside you, her hands tucked into the sheer gloves that reached her elbows.

“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head toward your ankle.

You nodded, adjusting your posture again, nervous all of a sudden. “Yeah, it’s… I mean, it still hurts like hell. But I’ve graduated from full-blown crisis to mildly inconvenienced.”

Her lips quirked. “You really went for it, huh?”

“Apparently the universe wanted me to arrive with a bang.”

“Worked,” she said softly.

You blinked at her. “What?”

Billie shrugged, but her eyes lingered on you a little too long. “You stole the night. Honestly, when you fell, I thought it was staged.”

You laughed. “I wish it was. But no. That was all me and a little too much satin.”

She smiled, her weight shifting subtly toward you. “Well… you handled it like a badass.”

“Is that what I looked like?” you teased. “Because inside I was spiraling.”

“I saw grace,” she said simply.

You looked at her then, really looked, and something tightened in your chest. That same warmth you felt earlier when she came to your rescue hadn’t left. If anything, it was stronger now. Here, without the press and the chaos. Just the two of you. Breathing the same soft night air.

“I’m Y/N by the way.. Don’t think I told you that earlier,” you said in between nervous giggles. Billie chuckled her signature little laugh before replying.

“Billie. And no, you didn’t. You kinda just flopped into my arms.”

You groaned for the nth time that night, making Billie laugh again as she stole Sabrina’s seat.

“So… where’s the boyfriend?” She wiggled her eyebrows trying to pretend to be supportive.

“Oh he’s um.. he’s…” You inhaled slowly. Your voice dropped. “Can I tell you something?”

Billie leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. “Course.”

You gave a little wave of your hand. “Not real. He’s just… PR.”

Her brows rose just slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I’m a lesbian,” you continued quietly. “But, you know, I guess I’ve got this whole ‘girl next door’ image?? Management thought that if I wanted to really make it, I needed to… play the part. So I didn’t get much of a say. How fucked is that??”

For a beat, Billie didn’t say anything. Her expression stayed neutral.

Then she said, “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”

You gave a small, awkward laugh. “Yeah, well. Welcome to the industry Y/N.”

She nodded once, then leaned in a little closer, her voice a whisper now. “Just so you know… I’m like screaming on the inside.”

Your heart thudded so hard you were sure she could hear it.

“You are?”

“So loud,” she said, eyes flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Trying really hard to play it cool right now.”

You tilted your head, smirking despite yourself. “And how’s that going for you?”

“Terribly,” she murmured.

You laughed again, warmer this time. Billie mirrored it, her hand reaching out to rest lightly on the edge of your stool.

“I kept looking for you inside,” she said. “Was starting to think I imagined you.”

“I was hiding,” you admitted. “Too many people. Too many cameras.”

“Well,” she said, taking a step closer, “I’m glad you suck at hiding.”

She was close enough now that you could smell her perfume—something dark and clean and quietly expensive. Your knee brushed her leg when you shifted.

“I’d offer to take you dancing,” she murmured, “but I don’t think your ankle would forgive me.”

You grinned. “Rain check?”

“Absolutely.” She dipped her head, her voice going even softer. “But if you need help getting back to your hotel… I’m told I’m very good at lifting people.”

You blinked. “Are you hitting on me?”

She grinned. “Little bit.”

“And what if I said I liked it?”

Her voice dropped. “Then I’d say let me take you home right now.”

Your breath hitched.

For a moment, the sounds of the Gala behind the doors fell away, the laughter, the music, the clinking glasses, and all you could hear was your pulse pounding in your ears and the slow, deliberate sound of Billie breathing just inches away.

“You’re trouble,” you whispered, smirking.

She leaned in, her lips nearly brushing your ear. “Only if you say yes.”

Billie’s words still lingered in your ear, like a ghost of a kiss that hadn’t quite happened.

You were suspended in a bubble of heat and proximity, so close to her that you could feel the whisper of her breath along your jaw. Your reply was tangled on your tongue, dizzy with the sheer intensity of her. And then-

“Ok so I only have two hands so someone’s not getting a drink, I hope that’s okay.”

Sabrina’s voice cut clean through the moment, playful and dramatic, like someone popping a balloon with a fork.

She sauntered back onto the balcony, cradling two glasses of champagne, and handed one to you without missing a beat. Her gaze flicked back and forth between you and Billie with just enough exaggeration to make her point.

“What’s going on out here?? What did I miss?”

Billie leaned back a fraction, clearly unfazed. She raised a brow at Sabrina. “Just chatting”

You, on the other hand, took the champagne and sipped just to give yourself something to do. “Sabrina,” you murmured. “Subtlety.”

She grinned and perched on the stone railing beside you, her short dress catching the breeze like a flag for chaos.

“I saw nothing,” she lied sweetly, taking a sip. “Just two gals chatting. With, like, eyes full of heat. And zero personal space.” She said the last bit into her glass as she took a gulp.

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling, too. Billie didn’t even bother denying it, she just kept glancing at you like you were the only person left at the Met.

“So,” Sabrina said, swinging her legs, “are we getting matching tattoos after this or…?”

But before you could shoot back a comeback, the balcony door creaked open again. And this time, it was your “boyfriend.”

He looked like a Dior ad come to life, all polished cheekbones and empty charm. You saw the way his eyes skipped over Billie and Sabrina, clearly not recognizing who he was standing in front of.

“There you are,” he said, slipping a practiced arm loosely around your shoulders. “Driver’s waiting. You’ve got to change for the after-party circuit.”

Billie’s jaw shifted ever so slightly.

She straightened, her voice casually cutting. “We’ll get her there.”

Your “boyfriend” blinked. “Uh—sorry?”

“She’ll be out soon,” Billie said coolly, her tone like velvet over a blade. “We’ll help her down. You go ahead.”

Something in her voice didn’t ask. It told.

Sabrina hummed into her glass. You stifled a laugh.

Your not-boyfriend raised a brow, clearly unsure of how to respond. But Billie just stared at him, utterly calm.

After a beat, he caved.

“Alright. Cool. I’ll… be downstairs.” He dropped a kiss onto the top of your head, a meaningless brush of lips, and disappeared back inside.

The door swung closed behind him.

The second he was gone, you burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, that was incredible,” you gasped. “You made him run away.”

Billie shrugged like it was no big deal. “He’s a really bad actor. You deserve at least someone who can pretend better.”

Sabrina snorted. “She deserves someone who actually wants to kiss her.”

That made Billie glance at you again, and suddenly the air crackled with silence.

You took another sip, your lips curling around the edge of the glass.

“So,” Billie started, leaning in a little, “what parties are you heading to?”

You tilted your head. “Why? Are you planning to stalk me?”

She didn’t flinch. “Absolutely.”

You raised a brow, intrigued. “You’re not even gonna play coy about it?”

“Nope. I want to see you again tonight. Preferably not with that boyfriend anywhere near.”

Sabrina let out a dramatic sigh. “And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I’m third-wheeling for life.”

You laughed, eyes locked with Billie’s. “I’m at the GQ after-party first. Then probably that private one at the Mercer. And I’m at The Bowery tonight, the room facing the park.”

Billie smiled slowly, her tongue poking into her cheek in a way that made your stomach twist. “Duly noted.”

You raised a brow. “You planning a late-night escape?”

“Depends,” she said softly. “You letting me in?”

Sabrina groaned theatrically, sliding off the railing. “Alright, lovers, let’s move. If we don’t get down there soon, someone’s gonna think you fell again.”

As the three of you made your way back through the elegant halls of the Met, Billie’s hand slid around your waist.

You didn’t protest.

Your ankle didn’t even really hurt anymore, but the warmth of her touch, the protective way she kept you close, the subtle pressure of her fingers resting just above your hip? You weren’t about to give that up.

Sabrina kept pace ahead of you, playing it cool, but every so often you caught her giving you a look over her shoulder that screamed “oh my god, girl.”

By the time you reached the grand marble staircase again, it was quieter—most guests had already filtered inside or out to their after-party plans.

Your driver texted again. Billie glanced at your phone, then at you.

“You’ll be okay with him?” she asked, though you both already knew the answer.

You nodded. “He won’t even ask where I’m going.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I’m hoping you’ll come find me instead.”

You smirked, stepping slowly down the steps, her arm still steady around you.

“I will,” you promised.

Billie’s fingers slid ever so slightly lower on your waist. “Can’t wait.”

You exchanged one last look, full of heat, possibility, and something far too charged to be fleeting, before the three of you stepped into the night, each headed to your own car… and maybe, just maybe, toward something else entirely.

[kinardsevan]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

listen. i'm still so convinced it's Tommy up on that crane in 807 that my brain keeps writing scenes 😂😂😂😂 so have this:

"Buck, you need to-"

He can't hear Bobby's words as he races up the ladder, panic rising faster and faster in his chest.

"Hey no no no no no!" He yells, throwing himself over the side. His hands grasp tight around Tommy's. "Stop stop stop! Please!" The words are coming out of him in sobs, but large hands grip around his wrists and a moment later, the older man tilts his head up and his eyes lock with Evan's.

"Ev-..." He cuts himself off, his voice wobbly and raspy from his current predicament.

"Just stop," Evan replies, snuffling as tears run down his face. "Stop moving, stop- just stop."

"Ok," Tommy replies, his voice weary as his fingers tighten around Evan's wrists that much more. The blonde glances up toward Chimney on the opposite crane. He's still working to get the harness unstuck, but apparently only having mild success with it.

"My legs are numb," Tommy states, blinking slowly. Chim looks up at them.

"Fuck this. I'm going to cut him down. The 217 can get the line fixed," Chimney states before heading back down the ladder in quick succession. "I need bolt cutters!"

"Evan," Tommy rasps. His hands are sweaty now, hanging onto the other man's arms.

"No," Evan replies, his voice tinged with anger now. "You have to hang on."

"You have to let go," Tommy counters to him, his voice exhausted. "Evan-" His grip slips on Evan's arm, and beneath them there's scrambling to get the inflatable placed properly. He glances over at the other crane as Chimney finishes reascending it.

"I can't," Evan replies, his own voice strained as he grips onto Tommy's arm with both hands now. "Fuck, Tommy, I can't."

"Why not," he asks wearily.

"Because!" Evan yells at him. Several tears fall off his face in quick succession, one landing on Tommy's own face as it continues its descent downward.

Somehow, even from beneath him, even with most of his blood volume hanging out in the lower half of his body with no way to make it circulate properly, Tommy manages to give him that look, the one that says he's really paying attention.

"Evan." He says it like it's Evan who needs to be talked off the ledge, like he's the one hanging in the middle of the air being held up by a crane.

"You don't get to give up now," Evan growls at him. "You already did that to me once this week."

"Are we really talking about this now," Tommy asks him. His fingers slip a few millimeters, but Evan curls his hand tight under Tommy's elbow, trying to pull him up.

"Seems as good a time as any," he replies. A humorless laugh slips out of him.

"I've almost got it," Chimney calls from the other crane.

Evan gulps. "It was too much, too fast," he states. "Asking you to move in. I s-said things that made it sound like I wasn't invested-.."

"It's fine," Tommy replies, sounding mildly exasperated.

"No its not," Evan argues, squeezing tighter on Tommy's arm. "it's not. Because it made me sound like I was asking you to move in because it's the easy option, like I wanted you to stay without any consideration of what your life looks like outside of what we are. Or were."

Tommy stares up at him, still blinking slow and long. Evan pulls his arm up inches higher, trying to take more of the weight off of his lower body.

"But it's not that," he says, sniffling again. "I lept before thinking, a-and made it into a thing that it wasn't and has never been." He sniffles again. "I didn't ask you to move in because I wanted to be impulsive. I said it because I want a life with you, a-and I was afraid to own that and what that means for me." He pauses and gulps, lets out a breath. "I was so pissed at you for breaking up with me, a-and you were doing the same thing I did. You were protecting yourself." Tommy stares up at him, eyebrows quirked slightly in confusion.

"I thought if I didn't say it, it was safer, that we-..." He shakes his head at himself as he feels the tension pulling Tommy back toward Chimney starting to wane as the bolt cutters work through the metal. "But I also want the whole damn thing with you. I'm not in it because it's easy, or because you were the first man to kiss me. I'm in it because I'm in love with you."

Tommy stares up at him still, giving him that damn look again, and the slack goes looser, his weight becoming even heavier on Evan's arms.

"I love you," he repeats. "I love you so damn much."

Tommy grants him a weary smile. "I love you too, Evan."

His weight falls entirely on Evan then, and both of their arms jerk out straight, Evan leaned roughly over the crane as he tries to keep holding on.

"Evan, let go," Tommy tells him.

"Please," Evan begs him, and he's not even entirely sure what it is he's begging for. "Tommy-.."

"I love you too," he repeats. "But you have to let go."

Evan gulps, forces a breath in, forces his tunnel vision to open up, and realizes the inflatable is ready and will catch Tommy. "I'll meet you at the bottom."

"Sounds good," Tommy rasps. And then, against everything that tells him he should, Evan lets go, watching as Tommy drops the 30 feet onto the inflatable crash pad. As soon as his body hits, Evan is already double-timing his way down the ladder. He makes it down in what he's sure is record time, running past everyone else to get to Tommy's side. Hen already has him on a stretcher, attached to a dozen leads and assessing his legs.

"Risk of compartment syndrome," she states. "Likely dislocation of the left hip. He needs x-rays and we need to go."

"I'm going with," Evan announces, refusing to hear reason to any other option. His hand is tight in Tommy's as soon as he's next to him, his other hand combing down the other man's hair as he stares down into those blue eyes. They're already brighter from his circulation picking back up. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Good lord just kiss the man already," Gerrard calls from the back of the crowd. Evan whips his head around and Tommy leans up off he gurney, both of them giving the old grump a shocked expression.

"What?" He asks. He has that grumpy look on his face once more, like he still thinks that their lifestyle is beneath him (at the very least). "We all know it's what you're thinking. I just said it."

Evan turns back toward Tommy, and the blue eyes meet.

"My boyfriend's sister once said there better ways to get someone's attention than this," Tommy says. Evan lets out a laugh, color flushing through his cheeks at the dignification of boyfriend. He curls two fingers under Tommy's chin and kisses him, both of them ignorant of the whooping and hollering happening around them.

"Like that," he whispers when they finally part, pressing his forehead into Tommy's. Tommy has a hand fisted around Evan's shirt, keeping him close.

"Yeah, that works," he whispers back. "I love you, too, Evan. I love you, too."

[quietly-sleeping]

Shen Qingqiu wanted to kill one of his fellow Peak Lords. 

At least, that was what the rumors swirling around Cang Qiong said. The disciples couldn’t seem to agree on who the Qing Jing Peak Lord wanted to kill; just that he had sent his disciples out with an order to retrieve. 

Shang Qinghua was the first of the Peak Lords to hear the rumors, his disciples had gotten more chatty than usual, the typical workload for anyone on the peak not leaving much energy to do much of anything. Other than gossip, as it turns out.

“Shizun,” His poor, overworked Head Disciple spoke up while they were sorting out yet another tower of papers into only mildly less intimidating stacks. “This disciple was wondering, has Shen-shibo said anything…worrying lately?” 

“In what way, Wu Xiaoli?” Shang Qinghua didn’t stop his work, he really couldn’t, he barely had any time at all to himself after working to the bone every day, if he stopped at all he’d have to forgo sleep to get it all done. “In a murderous way?” Wu Xiaoli was hesitant as she said this, her hands barely slowing as well, what a good disciple. 

“Your Shen-shibo is almost always like that, is something specific supposed to be happening?” Shang Qinghua glanced over at her, her prolonged silence stretching for a moment more before she spoke again. “In the way that most of Cang Qiong believes he is trying to capture and then kill one of his martial siblings.” Wu Xiaoli let that sit in the air for a moment before adding, “It should be fine, right Shizun?” 

Shang Qinghua really regretted being reborn. “Yes, you could say that Wu Xiaoli.” He felt faint. The paperwork, just the thought of the paperwork a murder like that would spawn nearly sent Shang Qinghua into a panic attack, nausea starting to build in his throat already. 

Which would lead to a visit from Mu-shidi, who while nice, was still trying to drug him with anxiety meds that Shang Qinghua did not need, thank you very much. He could feel Wu Xiaoli staring at him as he pondered how viable throwing himself off the mountain would be for knocking him unconscious, very viable, with only a mild threat of death, before she looked out the window and jolted. 

“Forgive this disciple, Shizun, Tan-shijie requested a meeting about the salary allotted for building a new garden on Qiong Ding.” Wu Xiaoli hurriedly sorted the last few papers in her hands before standing and nervously brushing at her yellow robes. 

“Don’t get scammed too badly this time.” Shang Qinghua said around the lump in his throat as he fished another very late work order for Bai Zhan, thank you Liu-shidi. Wu Xiaoli pouted for a moment, looking ten years old rather than nineteen before turning on her heel and marching out the door. “This disciple will try her best, Shizun!” She called out behind her.

Shang Qinghua did not hold back on the panicked sobs of dread now that his disciple was gone. He was more open with his sobbing response to issues when she was younger, but that led to a good year or so when Mu-shidi was very blatant in drugging his food and tea with anxiety meds. 

The despondent Peak Lord angled himself so any tears wouldn’t hit the delicate paper covered in ink. He may have to appear red and puffy later, but by the gods that had forsaken him, he would not ruin his paperwork.

Qi Qingqi was the next to hear about the rumors. Her usually on-top-of-things Head Disciple, Shi Fa, was distracted by the adorable new addition to their Peak, little Liu Mingyan. The four-year-old giving the poor girl a run for her money. 

It was amusing, but it did prove that perhaps Shi Fa wouldn’t be a great fit for Peak Lord. Which was an utter shame, the girl was perfect in every other aspect, Qi Qingqi mused on the issue for a moment before nodding to herself, a Hall Master then. 

They’d do better only interacting with the students in a more detached manner, still there to advise or support the Peak Lord’s decisions. Qi Qingqi looked back down at the report that had made its way onto her desk, the handwriting hurried with ink blotches and missed strokes. 

Shi Fa had heard the rumor while attempting to track down Liu Mingyan on Bai Zhan and extract her from the feral child colony that populated the Peak. One of the eldest of the feral children had been hired by a disciple of Qing Jing, needing their help since they had left the sect more often and to varied places. 

Shi Fa had located Liu Mingyan and managed to contain the delightful ball of fury while gathering more information, Shen Qingqiu had ordered a fetch mission on a martial sibling. None of the Qing Jing disciples actually fessed up to which martial sibling it was, but Qi Qingqi was certain it was not one of the Peak Lords. 

Since a murder had not happened during the last Peak Lord meeting, and Shen Qingqiu had been no more nasty than usual. The true question was, out of the martial siblings wandering the world, which had managed to offend Shen Qinqiu so deeply while having not stepped foot into Cang Qiong in roughly ten years at this point? 

Truly, what an amusing situation, Qi Qingqi could barely keep herself from giggling like a young maiden at the possible reasons this whole situation played out. Her darling wife would suggest something along the lines of a romantic falling out, which Qi Qingqi would normally agree with, as her wife was always right, but it was Shen Qingqiu they were talking about. 

Honestly, the man wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the ass. 

Shen Qingqiu heard the rumors and felt deep distaste for his gossiping martial siblings. They must be the ones to fuel this, the rumors wouldn’t have spiraled out of such control that they suggested he was hunting down a romantic partner that had scorned him. 

Truly, the imagination in his disciples was utilized in everything other than their studies. He’d be much more comfortable in sending his disciples out into the world if he didn’t have to read multiple poems about bamboo after every assignment. 

Other plants existed on Qing Jing, they had gardens, and they didn’t have to write about Qing Jing specifically. He could only read so many synonyms of the color green before he began to feel a deep frustration at the mere mention of poetry. 

However, there had been progress, of a kind. Sightings of his wayward shidi were documented in various areas along the border between the Human and Demon realms. Shen Qingqiu was reluctant to mark them as true sightings, at least the sightings given to him by his disciples. 

His network of spies, at the very least, gave more reliable sightings. He’s thrown out so many reports in the last year of a tall man with dark hair and some sort of pet. They fit the most basic description of his shidi but lacked any truly distinctive markers. 

It was infuriating. Shen Qingqiu knew that his shidi wasn’t hiding on purpose at least not anymore, his shidi probably wasn’t even aware he had forgotten about their meeting. A broken promise, Shen Qingqiu seethed. 

The only thing keeping Shen Qingqiu from actually ordering his spies to hunt his stupid, airheaded shidi down was that it would freak the man out, drive him into actually hiding himself. It had happened before, roughly around the time of the Qing’s ascension. The previous Ling You Peak Lord had ordered a manhunt of their youngest shidi. 

The forgetful man had hidden so deeply that the previous Peak Lords were half certain he’d died in some remote hidden realm. Of course, anytime Shen Qingqiu felt like vanishing for a while, he was always dragged back. 

If this continued for much longer, Shen Qingqiu might have to, with deep disgust, call in the brute to track down his shidi. Shen Qingqiu shuffled through the papers stacked neatly on top of his desk, however, other measures could be implemented before he had to rely on the brute. 

He paused, long fingers tapping on the paper he was holding as he hummed thoughtfully. This could do. Qi Qingqi certainly had contacts of her own, even the sniveling rodent of An Ding had his channels. A polite request for tea from his shimei was certainly unexpected, ah her wife must be coming along. 

Shen Qingqiu felt the corner of his lips twitch slightly, for a woman of such brutal background, Qi-shimei’s wife was such a stickler for formalities. 

Yue Qingyuan, despite the pains he went to keep an ear and eye on his Xiao Jiu, couldn’t keep track of everything the strategist did. So when Wei-shidi mumbled over his cup of tea about a manhunt, Yue Qingyuan felt a deep twist in his gut. 

He knew that Xiao Jiu had his reasons, but his Xiao Jiu had grown even more reticent since the ascension, but that had never stopped Yue Qingyuan. Wei-shidi had fled quickly, muttering about checking on a volatile sword, but the sect leader barely heard him, just nodding with a small polite smile. 

Blankly he stared at the wall for a moment, lost, before he called out. “Tan Liu?” Soft steps walked towards the office, “Yes, Shizun?” Tan Liu was the oldest of the Head Disciples and her command over her shidi and shimei made Yuq Qingyuan certain she knew about what was going on. 

“What is this about a manhunt?” He asked, his thumb rubbing along the teacup. Tan Liu hesitated for the barest moment before she straightened, “Shen-shishu issued a retrieval order for a martial sibling of the Qing generation. The general description has made its way to this disciple's ears, but not the name. I apologize.” 

Yue Qingyuan hummed for a moment, gently setting his teacup down on the low table. Tan Liu scuffed her feet gently on the wooden boards before speaking up again, “This one knows she should have reported this earlier to Shizun, however, this one felt she didn’t have enough information or evidence.” Yue Qingyuan glanced over at her with a small smile, “This master understands, the description?” 

Tan Liu relaxed slightly, before reciting the short description she had made sure to memorize. “A taller man of slight build, favors lighter colors such as white and pale blues and greens, wears a simple hairstyle, typically braided, dark green eyes, with a slightly crooked nose.” Tan Liu paused a moment before continuing, “Likely to be spotted with a creature of some sort, the creature will be tame, likely rare. Will take requests regardless of reward or how simple the request may be.” 

Yue Qingyuan closed his eyes as his Head Disciple’s voice tapered out. He knew exactly who his Xiao Jiu was hunting. The man was difficult to pin down, even harder to keep in one place, the only person who had succeeded before was the man’s own Shizun, who had defaulted to tracking talismans. 

“Good. Thank you, Tan Liu.” Yue Qingyuan didn’t look over at the woman as he waved his hand. They both had paperwork to return to, and she didn’t need to be standing around waiting for him to come to a decision. He heard her soft footfalls as she left the room, the door shutting behind her. 

Yue Qingyuan sat in silence for a long moment, a deep exhaustion beginning to form deep within his eyes, Xiao Jiu was certainly hunting someone. Their youngest shidi in fact, someone they hadn’t managed to track down before their ascension, his courtesy name still sealed within a final letter from the Previous Ling You Peak Lord. 

It had been ten years, perhaps the man had slipped out of hiding, his guard falling enough for them to herd him back to the sect. If Xiao Jiu didn’t bring this up at the Peak Lord Meeting next week, Yue Qingyuan would, if only to bring their shidi and shimei into the hunt. 

Shen Yuan, the missing Ling You Peak Lord, and the youngest shidi of the Qing generation. He was still out there, at the very least, Shen Qingqiu believed he was, which knowing the man, was probably as good of evidence as Yue Qingyuan would get. A soft sigh left his mouth before he stood, his paperwork was still waiting for him, and if he was going to be ascending another Peak Lord soon, he’d need his schedule as free as possible to plan a ceremony. 

part two

ao3

[etheries1015]

Arlecchino having a (female) s/o who is extremely sensitive and cries frequently.

You'd think arlecchino would have something against dating someone like this. Crying is a sign of weakness in her eyes, and honestly you were no different. Despite your typically optimistic and flamboyant personality, you were incredibly sensitive. Just leave it to Arlecchino to pick probably the most sensitive person in the world to choose as her lover, right?

You saw a sad play? Tears streaming down your face. You saw a malnourished dog on the streets? Sobbing while spending your life's savings to help the poor thing. It starts raining? You're crying, too. "Its been raining so much...The hydro dragon must be in such misery. I wish I could help him." One of the kids called you "mother" for the first time? You're sobbing uncontrollably. Most of the time Arlecchino would roll her eyes and be mildly unomftorable around your tears, but you knew she still loved you. Especially moments that it truly mattered, she would mutter a "Stop crying..." And pat your head, or quietly engulf you in a hug. She couldn't fully understand why you were always so empathetic and crying all the time, however they do say opposites attract, right?

Most of the time she found it to be one of your weak points, crying so much means you aren't strong to save face, right? That you don't have what it takes? Crying all the time was something only the pathetic and unworthy do...right?

Arlecchino heard two voices. One was her lover, you, and the other was the feeble whimpers of a child. She made sure to stay hidden from behind the door frame, eavesdropping on the conversation, where you and the young boy were left unaware of her presence.

"Father says I...shouldn't cry. I'm sorry, mother, I..."

"Freminet," Arlecchino heard your voice strong yet sweet, her heart skipping a beat slightly. She hadn't heard you so...authoritative in a long while. So loving, gentle...and so confident. There was not a hint of hesitation in your voice.

"I understand you think very very highly of Arle. She gave you a life here, along with your siblings. I know you look up to her. But if there is one thing we, even as lovers, disagree on..." The sound of rustling caused Arlecchino to glance around the corner, quickly noticing how you were pulling the young boy into your arms.

"Tears are not a sign of weakness. It means you have a strong heart, a heart full of emotions just waiting to burst and let loose. Strength comes from standing up again despite the challenges you have faced, and what may have made you cry." You pulled back and wiped his tears before poking his chest above the spot where his heart lay. "You have a beautiful heart, freminet. Its healthy, and strong. Strength is purely subjective, we can each decide for ourselves what strength truly means. Don't let someone else decide that for you, no matter how much they may mean to you."

"But-" the blonde haired boy went to object you, only to be promptly cut off.

"Arlecchino has her own definition of strength and weakness, and so do I. They are completely opposite from one another. But that doesn't mean the love between us isn't real because of that. We all still love you for who you are, Freminet. You're growing to be a very fine young man, and I'm certain you will find your own definition of strength. Create it yourself, okay? Your soul is meant to grow into your own shape, not forcefully conform into someone else's." There was no words, only the sounds of light sobs as Freminet hugged you tightly. You smiled slightly and pat his back gently and comfortingly.

"If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to, I'm always here for you. You do not need to suffer alone."

Arlecchino could have sworn your gaze notice hers and lock eyes for but a moment, with a gentle smile placed upon your features. Quickly turning her heel and walking away, Arlecchino simply scoffed at the notion you were breaking down the principals she had built at the house of hearth.

Night had fallen and you entered your shared room with the Knave, who was currently laying in bed with the lights off and blankets covering her body. You strolled over to the bed, sitting down next to her as you gazed down to the quiet harbinger.

"Are you mad at me?" You inquired, "I know you heard what I told freminet. I assumed you would yell at me by now, about how crying isn't a sign of strength, and how I'm 'teaching them worthless things'. " You awaited a snotty response from your thickheaded lover, yet much to your surprise, there was no response. It was only when you sat your hand upon her shoulder did you notice the slightest tremble, your eyes widening before you were abruptly pulled down into the sheets with strong arms wrapping around you. Arlechinnos head tucked into your shoulder, you could feel wetness seep through your shirt. You smiled sadly and began to hold her back, stroking her soft black and white locks.

"I see you're taking my advice, huh? Did I strike a chord finally?"

"Shut up."

With a shaky voice and mild hesitation, Arlecchino had become far more vulnerable than she had ever felt before.

"You're a bad influence," she sighed into your shoulder, her grasp tightening. With a chuckle and another gentle kiss, you hummed in amusement. It wasn't long before you felt the trembling come to a halt and Arlecchinos breathing even out, you closed your eyes and began to drift off into sleep with your lover still in your arms.

Maybe crying wasn't as bad as she made it out to be. At least, not when she had someone to hold her tight all night.

[sandcobangevent]

who let the dogs out?!

by @lxvenderjewel and atispeach

1

If John comes downstairs just to complain about his missing mic one more time, Mariana will give Sherlock the case he’s been whining about not having all week.

None of them know where the bloody mic went, but Mariana’s considering the possibility that John has genuinely fallen in love with the damn thing, the way he keeps waxing poetic about it as if it’s his husband gone off to war. He’s been freaking out about losing it, and when Mariana suggests he just replace it, he looks at her as if she’s asked him to kill someone.

“I can’t just replace my mic, Mari,” he says, eyes wide with betrayal. “We’ve been through everything together.”

Dramatic ass man.

Anyhow, every day that the damn thing has been gone, John has been steadily getting more and more stir-crazy, pacing the flat, muttering to himself, drinking unhealthy amounts of coffee, and on one notable occasion taking his phone case off to throw it at the wall before sinking down into a crouch and screaming into his hands.

Really, it wouldn’t be that serious if he’d just replace it. But she won’t tell him that. That’s what Sherlock’s for.

“Do you have any audio left on it?”

“No, I uploaded everything as soon as we came back home last week, but–”

“Then there’s no need for you to find that mic, Watson. You can just replace it.”

“Right, yeah, until we find it somewhere a month from now and realize we’ve wasted our money when we could’ve just looked harder, right.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that!”

Yeah. Thank god for him.

Mariana’s finally getting some work done, because John isn’t talking her ear off in panic. There’s always work to be done, especially filing with the police, which irritates her to no end but irritates her more right this very moment.

Of course, this is when she hears something at the door.

“I’m going to kill that man,” Mariana mutters to herself as she gets up and stalks to the door, but when she opens it, there’s no man to kill.

She looks down.

It’s Archie.

“Hello, Archie,” she sighs, as the bulldog trots past her and into his bed in her flat. “What do you want from me.”

He barks twice in response, and scratches the floor next to his bed. Mariana whips around, slamming the door.

“My floor! Puta madré, my floor-” she says, running up next to him. “Stop that!”

He’s scratching underneath his bed, and Mariana frantically lifts it up to see the damage he’s done to her precious floor, and then-

Ah.

There’s a mic on the floor.

“Ay, dios mio,” she mutters, and with one hand pulls her phone out and dials John.

2

Sometimes, they like to let Archie run about for a bit by himself. It used to stress John out to no end, but Sherlock insisted that the poor dog learn how to live on its own, especially considering that they were taking a lot more out-of-country cases. (Which, by the way, Mariana doesn’t especially like, considering plane tickets are bloody expensive.) They’d argued a lot about it--- Archie hadn’t exactly been raised as an outdoor dog, and he was mildly energetic at best, and what would he do if he got in the path of a car? or a bike? Or, or, or---

But Sherlock insisted, and John is helpless to Sherlock on the best of days.

Anyways, the point is this--- sometimes they’ll go hours without hearing Archie’s paws on the floor or his snuffles as he sleeps, and John’s learned not to fret so much over it, and that’s why none of them notice at first– none of them realize that Archie’s been gone too long until it’s 7 in the evening and John’s on the verge of sobbing because “he’s my bloody dog, Sherlock, you idiot bastard!”

The two of them are on the verge of devolving into a full blown fight– Archie is John’s little boy, damn near his own son, and he’ll probably blow a gasket if the old fucker doesn’t turn up by the end of the evening. And Sherlock is still adamant that Archie will be fine, that he can tough it out on his own, which, to his apparent surprise, isn’t really helping at all.

Mariana is fast developing a throbbing headache at all the shouting in the flat. She’s already tired of playing peacemaker and it’s probably been about five minutes. It’s not that she doesn’t love her flatmates– God help her, she does– but she really despises them when they yell, which, contrary to popular belief, happens a lot.

The two of them ought to take a walk, really, but they won’t, so Mariana will do it for them (and for herself, mostly, she has to take her glasses off because they’re really not helping with the headache). 

They don’t notice her quietly slipping out the door as they’re playing their fifth round of the blame game, and when the door closes she inhales in relief. She quickly half-runs down the stairs, unlocking the door to 221A and slipping on a jacket before running back out the door and down the hall.

There's a stinging cold outside, but she finds she doesn’t really mind. It’s that odd transition period between winter and spring where the snow has stopped but the chill still lingers in the air and there’s always a threat of rain but never a guarantee. The ground in front of her is wet, which isn’t a surprise, considering she’d heard the pounding rain inside the flat only half an hour ago, but there’s a very familiar scent of wet dog, which is surprising, because she isn’t aware of any other dogs that live around the Baker Street area.

And then her heart leaps, and–

Dios mio, there’s Archie, in the sodden, muddy flesh, and it’s a good thing Mariana thought to put on a raincoat because she immediately scoops the dirty dog into her arms as he licks at her face.

“My god, you little rascal, the trouble you brought,” she admonishes, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he nuzzles into the crook of her neck. She might never have been so happy to see the dog, she smiles to herself.

She’ll call John in a moment, but it’s probably healthy to yell, and she wants to cuddle her gross and disgusting dog for just a moment more.

3

“Come on, just one picture, please,” Mariana begs, crouching over Archie’s dog bed. “I just want one.”

Archie isn’t one for cameras, something Mariana learned quickly, being an avid picture-taker. And for the most part, it doesn’t bother her, except for right now, because they’re doing some merch collab, and they want a picture of the dog, and the dog won’t sit still.

“Do you want food? I’ll get you food. I’ll get you the most premium beef if you just sit for this picture.”

Still, nothing. John and Sherlock, of course, are out on a case, which means she’s left at home with no help to wrangle this dog who has not an ounce of mercy in his tiny little body.

Mariana wails in frustration.

“Please, Archie, I’ll do anything,” she begs. The dog stops and looks at her as if to say, oh, anything?

He darts into her bedroom and she sighs, tears springing to her eyes. She runs after him.

“What do you want,” she asks him. He nudges one of her drawers. Her sock drawer.

“One day I’ll kill you,” she mutters, but she opens it and throws him a pair to chew on. He catches them in his mouth and his tail starts wagging as he sits down, the socks in a slobbery wet pile on her bedroom floor as he pants happily.

The plushie company loves the photo.

4

It falls on Mariana to take Archie to go get his annual vet check up, since John’s out visiting family and Sherlock’s out… doing… something. She hates using the cage, and he falls asleep in the car anyways, so she just doesn’t use it.

Instead, he’s sitting in her lap while she scrolls Twitter on her phone and waits for the vet to call them inside. She strokes him absentmindedly and looks up every so often to watch the clock tick, tick, tick.

The vet’s office is cute. The walls are white, of course, but there’re paintings of puppies and kittens and flowers all over the walls. It’s almost sickening. To Sherlock, it probably would be.

She taps her foot against the floor and looks back down at her phone. It’s no inconvenience to her (as she’d told John about a million times before he’d left) but god is it boring.

That is, until Archie, with newfound energy, crawls off of her lap to go harass some poor girl’s puppy.

“Shit–!” Mariana curses, getting up quickly. “Archie! You idiot, ” she calls after the stupid dog.

The dog’s owner looks up at that, and she scoops her puppy up off the floor. Archie barks up at her, and that’s when Mariana kneels down next to him and shoves a treat haphazardly grabbed from the recesses of her bag into his mouth.

“I am so sorry,” she says.

“No, it’s… fine,” the woman says. Her blond, curly hair is pulled into a bun, and she’s wearing a black hoodie with… is that Sindarin?

“I like your hoodie,” Mariana mumbles, petting Archie’s head in an effort to get him to calm down.

“Yeah?” the woman asks. “Well, I like your bag.”

Mariana looks down at her bag, spots the fanmade pin she’d bought a couple months ago on the strap. She looks back up and the woman’s smiling at her, and her heart flutters a bit.

“D’you like Lord of the Rings too?”

Mariana deliberates for a moment– yes, she does, but does this girl like it as much as her? Does she really want to talk about it until her appointment is called? But then again, no one who has a hoodie with that design on it is a casual enjoyer of Lord of the Rings.

So, “yeah, I do. Have you watched that new Amazon Prime series?”

“Oh, I did, but I dropped it like halfway through.”

“What? Why?”

“Well–”

Suddenly, the thought of sitting here for 30 more minutes doesn’t seem so agonizing.

5

It’s a nice day for a walk, which is why Mariana’s mourning the fact that John’s not on it.

He’s having one of his bad leg days, which seem to be increasing ever since their last case, and he’d felt ever so awful about not being able to walk Archie, so of course, she’d volunteered.

“I’m so sorry,” he’d frowned, and she’d waved him off. It’s what you do for a friend, after all.

The sun isn’t beating down too hard on her, and the air is in Goldilocks condition. Archie’s happily trotting down the sidewalk and she has her headphones on, bobbing her head along to the beat of various Yves songs. There’s the bakery that she and Sherlock had visited yesterday, and coming up, she knows, is the flower shop that the girl she’d met at the vet works at. She smiles to herself. She’d gotten her number after she’d been called up for the appointment, and they’d been texting almost every day after her shift. She’s funny, creative too, draws in her free time. They’re good drawings, and Mariana has told her as much. Maybe she’ll pop in for a visit, invite her to dinner later that week–

There’s a tug at the leash, and Archie’s running off in the other direction.

Mariana barely has time to let out a shout of surprise before she’s being pulled along with the dog, desperately trying to keep up. She’d never been the most athletic, and the bulldog is setting a deceptively fast pace for her, not to mention she doesn’t have her insoles in. It doesn’t even take two minutes before she’s wheezing, two minutes more and her chest is burning so badly there are tears in her eyes.

By the time he stops running, which feels like hours , she’s panting heavily, chest heaving and coughing.

“ Dios mio, you demon dog,” she hacks out, pounding a fist against her chest as he slows down. “What the hell made you do that?”

Archie barks and sniffs the air, leading her into an alleyway.

Holy shit, he’s going to kill me, she thinks. I’m going to die in this dusty, grimy alleyway.

He barks again, and suddenly a stench hits her. She looks down at him, and then she notices something next to him.

“Holy shit,” she says.

There’s a fucking dead body on the floor.

She gags. “Is this what you want to show me? Dios mio,” she mutters, but she’s already dialing Sherlock’s number and visualizing the grin on his face when she tells him.

Damn it.

+1

“Come on, we have to get Archie something!” Mariana protests as John tries to drag her out of the shop.

“These souvenirs are all so bloody expensive, you insane woman,” John hisses. “We’re not getting him anything.”

“But–! Look at this little shirt!” she whines. “Look at that color! And that design! It just oozes love!”

“It what.”

John’s tone is flat, with just a touch of disbelief behind it.

“You know who else oozes love? Archie.”

“He certainly oozes,” Sherlock mumbles from beside the two of them, at which they both whip around and level him with twin glares. “I’m kidding!”

“Please, just the one shirt, John,” Mariana begs. “It’s only–” she turns around. “Ten dollars.”

“Ten– normal shirts are supposed to cost ten dollars! Not shirts for dogs!”

“But just think of how cute he’ll look in it, John, please,” she says. “Think of the bigger picture.”

“I’m thinking, and all I can see is my wallet, woefully empty because I keep letting you buy things.”

“ Your wallet?!” she laughs, affronted. “Why am I even asking you, actually? It’s my money.”

“Fine, go broke, what do I care,” John sighs dramatically as she picks the shirt off its tiny little hanger and fawns over it.

“Me and Archie are going to have matching shirts when we get home, John. It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

[thelazuliknight]

Monday WIP post

Klaroline Fic Characters in WIP: Caroline (POV), Stefan, Tyler (mentioned), Elena, and Bonnie Post episode: Daddy Issues (s2 ep 13) __________

She’s okay. Caroline is strong now. She’s strong. She’s strong.

She’s strong.

So why does Stefan’s silhouette look slightly blurry? Why does water still threaten to well up in her eyes?

She forces an annoyed little smile, and says, “Stefan, I told you I’m fine.”  She really is fine. Her wounds are no more than memories, her skin only appears mildly ashy, but her neck and forehead are flawlessly clear of any prior mutilatation, like a photoshopped skin-care model in a Clinique catalog. .

“I know,” Stefan tells her gently. Clearly he doesn’t believe her if that’s the tone he uses. It’s sickeningly sweet like honey, and a part of her hates him for doing that. Because it makes her want to peel away the sentinel mask and slump into his arms and cry. He's so painfully kind to her, the sort of friend she never expected to slot into her life, but after Tyler today, she wants to cling to the friends she has even harder. 

But after Tyler today she doesn’t know if she can. 

She feels two seconds away from crying. And she doesn’t need Stefan to see that. She frankly doesn’t need anyone to see that. But if he does something unfair, like hugging her or giving her that seldom Stefan-flavored affection usually only dished out to the ever special Elena, she might just fall apart into a heap of sobs. 

Caroline refuses to lose the small iota of pride she has left. No siree!

Caroline pushes the pathetic, snotty-nosed, and insecure little parasite deep inside, and she hopes she can drown it in her kiddy-pool level of shallowness. Her pettiness reared its ugly head when Tyler showed up. Caroline doesn’t know if she is justified or not for screaming at Tyler,  but seeing him just reminded her that betrayal is a flavor ten-times more bitter than blood. All she could feel was the pain his friends put her through. And Caroline hated how it reminded her of the weakness she can’t stand to feel, and so it bubbled up to the surface in the form of hot rage. And Caroline latched to that anger. She’s tired of feeling weak. So tired of it, and yelling at Tyler, felt so pathetically powerful. 

Caroline knows that she can’t afford to bring that insecurity to Stefan. He doesn’t deserve that.

“Well, I thought you might need some back up.” His brows knit together, making his eyes look more gray than green, and Caroline feels a pang of something in her chest. She wants to shake her head, but then she smells that very human scent in the air, and two waring parts of herself roar within. Elena and Bonnie. Caroline smells the blood in their veins and hears their drumming hearts, before they reveal themselves holding clean pillows and thick blankets. Caroline’s heart just caves seeing them here, and love beats strongly in her chest. God she loves them. Her friends. Elena. Bonnie. Even Stefan. She basks in it, feeling cared for, and she realizes, unfortunately, Stefan is right. 

Caroline can’t do this alone. 

She realizes that even more when Elena says, “we’re gonna slumber it.” 

Bonnie flashes her a warm smile. “We haven’t in ages.”  

Caroline can’t help but laugh as they both latch onto her in a hug. Bonnie is warm to hold, and Elena hooks her arms around them both, and pillows hang awkwardly between them. Elena mouths something to Stefan, and Caroline hears the door click shut, and then Stefan's shoes are shuffling away.

Then the second part of her rolls. The louder part. The hungry part. The one that sends an electrifying pulse down her back as she catches scent of copper and bitter, and Caroline wants. Her gums ache, her heart sputters, she takes a deep breath; Caroline resists. 

[winterppeach]

Big Things, Big Post

Hey y'all! Long time no see, apologies for the quietness (forgot tumblr existed tbh, been more active over on Discord)

Big post today! Since lots of things have happened since I was last here

Bunny TF is finally apart of DoL+ !!!

The long awaited merge that happened earlier then expected due to some things that happened. You finally get to live out your dreams of beating people up as a rabbit :D

The buff/nerf trait that DoL+ adds to the Bunny TF is: Lupine Celerity -30% Physique -20% Willpower +40% Dancing +50% Athletics +10% Seduction

The Strong Feet Trait and Passive submissiveness remain.

General Updates I have done

DOLB version now reflects on what half of 0.1.5 we're on

Added the bunny TF icon to cheats menu (special thanks to Pinzya for making it!)

Placeholder text for the TF interaction with Robin has been added

Updated the Strong Feet trait to buff both Athletics AND Dancing

Updated the TF sprites (...again)

Added a section for the bunny TF in information, mildly out of date

Added in special furniture updates, majority don't have sprites yet and is still a major work in progress

Added in the icon for the moon plush, special thanks to Leni (i don't know their socials sob) for making it! Go check out their mod in the dolmodding server

Renamed and rewrote the descriptions of some traits. Predatory Animal -> Predatory Instinct Prey Animal -> Prey Instinct

Fixed the tf not appearing in combat

FINALLY updated the beeesss img pack

Any bug reports for the OG mod, please report them to me either on Discord (dolmodding)! or through the AMA Though if you do report bugs through the AMA, please make sure to give as much information as possible. I prefer to get bug reports via discord cause its easier to communicate there.

Any bug reports for the dol+ version of the mod, please report in the dol+ server!

As mentioned above, I've been more active over on Discord and have made various announcements relating to the future of the mod (dw i'm not abandoning it!) I have already made a few posts on this tumblr about my irl life but thankfully those issues have been solved.

Alas, more issues have come up. To keep things short, health has been getting worse and my overall motivation and love for this game have dwindled. Ofc I still love working on this mod, it finally pushed me to learn how to code and I appreciate all the support and wonderful people I met because of it ^^

But because of my health issues and motivation, I've decided to downscale the things I WANT to work on. Adding bunny folk to the mod is nolonger my main priority, esp with the issues I've had with coding it recently. Rather then stressing myself out over it, I've decided to just stick it on the shelf. It'll happen! Eventually... Over on discord, i've updated the list of things I want to do. I will post the list over here at some point so y'all can see the stuff I want/have plans to work on.

Another reason for the downscale? I want to focus on my personal projects! Repeating what I said, I love working on this mod. Its my pride and joy, my child. BUT but I also love my personal projects. Stuff that isn't just a mod of a game. If you do wish to join me in the journey of insanity, I have leaked my 'personal' account here before. Just requires a lil scrolling...

If you don't! That's fine, as long as you stick around to support the mod :D

And finally... I'll be attempting to do monthly update posts from now on. Both on Discord and Tumblr. I want to be active on this site again! At the end of the month I'll be going on a week long trip to see my boyfriend and friends! Will be away from my PC so if the game updates during them, fml.

That's everything! Happy (late) new year everyone! It has officially been over a year since I started developing this mod and next month it'll be a year since its full release. Once again, thank you all for the support!

[ejzah]

A/N: There’s the smallest amount of drama, and blood, before things get fluffy again.

***

Weddings, Dresses, and Toddlers, Part 2

“Sophie!” Kensi shouted, reaching her a second after Deeks, Rosa standing completely still in the doorway. He turned her over carefully, pulse pounding in his ears as he anticipated the worst. A two-inch cut sat directly above her left eyebrow and had already swelled considerably, a trickle of blood seeping out.

Sophia stared up at him, blinking slowly, clearly stunned.

“Oh, baby.” He pulled her into his arms while Kensi frantically checked her over for any other injuries.

“Is she ok?” Rosa asked. “I’m so sorry. If I—”

“It’s not your fault,” Deeks assured her, catching her eye long to make sure she knew he meant it.

“I think she only hit her head,” Kensi said, voice shaking as she cupped the back of Sophia’s head.

“Sophie ok?” Caleb asked, leaning on Kensi’s shoulder. The second he caught sight of his sister’s bloody forehead, his face crumpled, and he burst into tears. That seems to break through the shock, and she started crying too.

“Sissy’s ok,” Deeks assured him quickly. “She just has a little boo-boo.” He shot Kensi a mildly frantic look as he tried to appear calm. They’d had their share of bumps and bruises, but nothing quite this intense so far.

“Yeah, Sophie’s going to be just fine. Can you help me get her a bandaid?” Kensi asked, taking both of Caleb’s little hands. His crying slowed a little bit, and he nodded seriously, successfully distracted at the prospect of helping.

Blood had started to well more quickly out of the cut, dripping towards Sophia’s nose.

“What can I do?”

“Uh, can you get some towels?” Deeks replied to Rosa, who immediately ran to fulfill his request.

“I’m going to find a first aid kit.” Kensi rushed off, taking Caleb with her.

“Here,” Rosa said. She offered him a spare hand towel and an entire roll of paper towel.

“It’s ok, sweetie,” Deeks murmured, gently dabbing at the wound while he cradled Sophia closer. She let out a shuddering, gasping sob, blindly reaching for him, her fingers tangling in the ends of his hair.

He continued to make soothing noises, rocking her gently with one arm while he kept the towel pressed over her forehead. Sniffling quietly, Sophia tucked her thumb in her mouth.

Kensi returned a few minutes later, Caleb in one arm and a small first aid kit in the other. He seemed considerably closer with a few minutes of distance.

“This was all I could find,” Kensi said breathlessly, handing Caleb off to Rosa so she could pull out the contents of the kit. She also had a small ice pack. “How does it look?”

Deeks gingerly lifted the cloth, which was now had a pretty large spot of blood staining the middle. The bump had risen to twice its original size, but upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a purely superficial wound. Horrible, yes, but not requiring a trip to the emergency room.

“I think the b-l-o-o-d mostly stopped,” he told Kensi and she nodded, closing her eyes briefly in relief. Rosa murmured something in Spanish under her breath.

“Thank god.”

“Mommy,” Sophia whimpered pitifully, reaching out with one hand.

“Come here, baby,” Kensi said. They switched places, Deeks taking over first aid duties while Kensi held Sophia.

“You ok, Sophie. You all better,” Caleb encouraged her. He watched from Rosa’s arms, diligently observing his mom’s work with a careful eye.

Kensi carefully wiped away the remaining blood and then applied a large bandage that covered most of the bump.

“There, good as new,” she announced.

“I’ll clean this up,” Rosa offered. Deeks stopped her before she could start gathering up the bloody towel and other garbage.

“Hey, we’ll get that. Go sit down; you’re looking a little gray,” he said gently.

“I do feel a tiny bit faint.” She exhaled slowly. “I’ve never seen a toddler bleed that much.”

“Yeah, it was scary,” Deeks agreed. “But head wounds tend to be like that. The good news is it stopped and all her responses are normal.”

“We can take her in for a check up after the wedding, just to be sure,” Kensi added, and Deeks nodded in agreement.

“Kay-Kay, what is going on? Kat said you were running around like a mad woman and asking for a first aid kit or something. Your wedding was great, but I cannot have a weird Russian guy showing up,” Tiffani ranted, barreling into the room so quickly they didn’t have time to clean up any of the blood. “Oh my god! What the hell happened?”

“It’s ok, we just had a little accident,” Kensi said, getting up with Sophia in her arms.

“But her head—”

Kensi shook her head rapidly making a slicing motion with her hand before Tiffani could get fully worked up. The last thing they needed was the twins crying again.

“I know. She’s going to be ok though.”

“You just might have to find a different flower girl. I’m not sure our girl here is up to walking down the aisle,” Deeks added.

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Tiffani scoffed. “I mean I do care, but I care more about Sophia than I do having the perfect wedding. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, Tiff is does,” Kensi said with a gentle smile. Sophia tugged at the front of her dress insistently, face screwed up with a serious look.

“Mommy, I fwower giw,” she insisted firmly.

“I know, Sweetie, but you’ve got a bump now and I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“My fwowers, mommy. I fine.” She held up her hand and grinned widely as proof, and Deeks choked back a snort of laughter.

“Sophie all better,” Caleb chimed in helpfully. He looked to Deeks for reinforcements.

“Just like her mother,” he said, tweaking one of Sophia’s curl. “Nobody’s taking her job away.”

“Do we let her?” Kensi asked uncertainly.

“I can walk with her, if that’s alright with Tiffani,” Rosa offered.

“You’re so sweet, Rosa. That would be perfect,” Tiffani agreed. “Just try not to get blood on the dresses, because we have pictures after the ceremony.”

“We’ll do our best.” With the extreme emotions of the last 15 minutes, Deeks found himself fighting back a grin.

“Ok, great. Everyone’s ok. No one’s dying, and I need to get into my dress.”

“I’ll come help you in a couple minutes,” Kensi called as Tiffani hurried back out.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a wedding we’re involved in if there wasn’t at least a little bloodshed and the possibility of a hospital visit,” Deeks summed up.

[ridreamir]

Ignoring the Netflix Canon when I feel like it (Crack Reader Insert Post)

[Mild Umbrella Academy Spoilers!]

Hello and welcome to the Umbrella Academy! The....Sparrow Academy...? Oh wait no, wrong one. It says here you're a part of the bullshit academy. Yayyyyy!!! You're special! You have a superpower! Now....

Imagine being ruthlessly stalked by the biggest nightmare of a Commission Assassin only to find out that it's:

A: Alternate universe 5. Wearing a mask. B: Someone Commission Founder 5 planned to send after you. C: All the above. And a secret third option.

He's trying to fucking kill you, which is why it's all the more surprising when he cocks a gun at you and shoots one bullet, only for it to sail right past your head. Why he purposely missed eludes you, but haunts you for many days and nights. Then, the apocalypse hits. You just narrowly escape with your life. Thanks to your 'power', you're privy to obscure knowledge. Knowledge no one in this multiverse should have about its history, inter-workings, and potential future outcomes.

Good thing you're practically the most useless idiot on the planet aside from that, because wow. Talk about multiversal anomaly threat.

(Hey, you show that you could have been capable of intelligent thought! Had you been raised properly. News flash: YOU WEREN'T.) So now you're cozy in your little New Yurk apartment which doesn't cost a billion francs per month because that's a different timeline. Isn't this lovely? Isn't world peace amazing? It's too bad, really, that you live next to gay and gayer. And bitch. Brothers, Viktor, Klaus, and Ben. They're fine enough, really, if not for the screaming matches fuck boy Viktor gets into with his multiple gfs on a daily basis and the sheer amount of drug dust that wafts in every time Klaus even breathes in your direction. They're normal. Just a couple of young adults trying to make it in the big city after presumably running away from daddy. (Mid 20s?)

That's... right. You see, you recognize these three. You haven't seen the others around yet, nor is there any guarantee that they even still live in this city anymore, but after the last 'pocalypse you sneezed yourself out of, you landed yourself here, right in the heart of it all. Why? Because they're your brothers.

In this timeline, Canada won back in 1812. Ooooooh. Bummer.

See, none of this would be a problem, if not for the sudden appearance of a highly intoxicated and mildly injured smelly boy man on your couch. He's sobbing. He just shot at you the last timeline ago!!! "Auuuuggghhhh uhuhu, waaahhhh!!!!" He cries under the mask. "Why'd you fuck up our timeline(s) *hic*, now I have to uhuhu~~ Kill youuuuuuaaaaa aaaaaaaawhuhu!!~~"

That's right! After isekai'ing into a near identical Umbrella Academy to that of the hit Netfix show of the same name, you were nearly forced to grow up just as traumatized as the rest of your seven pseudo siblings as you recovered your memories and sense of identity! Then your 'brother' went on to go found the fucking same corporation that wants to kill you! And now he's pretending he's a field agent when he's really the fucking founder!

"I don't wanna do it, Eight! I don't want to have to, to huurrrrtt youuuuu aaaaawwwhuhuhu!!~~" He sniffles, ripping off the mask. "Just... just stay with me, okay? Just, we'll hide you in the thirty sixth floor of my tower just, just staawwpp running uhuhuuuuuuuuu!!!~~~~"

Well this is news to you that he actually has some semblance of care for you, actually. When the little bitch is sober he's usually trying to lodge a bullet in your skull! Or apparently only pretending to. Reginald. What in the fucking world did you do to this man(baby). Why is he acting like this. He's usually so terrible and cold and uncaring and not nice (and smart) but right now he's absolutely fucking pathetic! You know you're in deep shit when a tentacle bursts through your wall. "Hey!!" Ben yells, not having any concept that this is his brother 5 that died on a mission when they were children. "Shut that frignart up, fuckshit!"

Ah yes. Gen kthulu slang.

"Aww is that habibi? Tell 'em I said hii~" "Fuck you." Ben hisses at Klaus.

When Five starts to dry heave on your couch from choking on his own crying, you know you have a problem.

Dear god. Please let the next universe be normal.

[onceonafullmoon]

Yandere! Wadanohara x Reader HCs

Tw! Torture mentions, kidnapping, manipulation and eventual mind break

You would probably end up in this wacky looking red place after a horrible accident gone wrong at sea (boat sinking, plane crash, submarine leak, you having an asshole broomstick that doesn’t listen to you, anything really.).

Either way, you end up in this strange sea that’s just filled with blood, which mildly freaks you out but you’re fine for the most part so you decide to search around and find the nearest island so you don’t drown. 

While you’re on your desperate attempts to swim towards said island, a young witch with eyes the color of the bloodstained sea takes notice of you

She’s curious of course, this sea doesn’t get many visitors with its *ahem* intimidating looks *ahem* and so she draws nearer and watches over you for a bit.

After watching you just barely get to shore, she feels curious enough to introduce herself as well as help you out.

“Hello, I’m Wadanohara, the witch of this sea, do you need help?”

You’re obviously suspicious since she looks like she just crawled out of the set of a horror movie, but you don’t have the energy to attempt to defend yourself so you introduce yourself back.

“Oh, (Name) is it? That’s a pretty name!”

She helps you get to shelter and is generally pretty nice for the few days your stuck there, so you can’t help but feel like an asshole for judging her based on her appearance.

Meanwhile Wadda is absolutely confused at these new feelings surging in her, similar to her ones towards Samekichi and Sal... well, either way it seems like your something special to her.

Slowly, she confides in these new feelings to Sal, asking what she should do about them.

Obviously, he’s the wrong person to ask, but she doesn’t really know that. He kindly reassures her that they surely have room for another cute pet, right next to Samekichi.

During this time you’ve probably grown closer to Wadda, and great news! You’ve finally figured out a way to get back home! You’re sure that you’ll come back to visit though, after all, you can’t wait to share your other adventures with your new friend.

Well, Wadda isn’t happy about that... after all she likes to keep all her precious people close... she has no idea what to do so she goes again to ask Sal for help.

And he, not wanting to see his beloved Wadda get hurt and also slightly curious to meet you, comes up with the brilliant idea of “why not keep them here against their will?”

Great idea Sal, truly a genius.

Well, unlike Sal, Wadda does feel guilty about the thought of keeping you locked up, but she’ll try to justify it by telling herself that she’s just “protecting” you... it’s for your own good she swears!

Oh sure, you sob and cry at first asking her what’s she doing and how could she, but she knows that this is the right call, you’re just so fragile after all.

It’s not too bad though, at least no one will attempt to “play” with you, except for Wadda and Sal. She goes very easy on you though, and always keeps an eye to make sure Sal doesn’t hurt you too bad.

And eventually you’ll meet your next door neighbor, Samekichi, a very traumatized shark. Wadda likes to see her precious people interacting, so she makes sure you two get quality time together.

It’s definitely not the best situation though. If you mouth off towards her she’ll be incredibly distraught and cry... and if you make her sad well... let’s just say Sal will be happy to teach you a lesson.

She’s manipulative without realizing it, guilt tripping you when you hear about her past, being sweet when she's the one put you in chains... it’s vey confusing.

If you manage to escape, she’ll bring you back easily, she has an entire kingdom at her disposal after all, and Princess Mikotsu is very thankful for her help.

Overall, you’re pretty much screwed in this situation and you can’t really escape. Don’t feel too bad though, at least you’ll be showered in affection, soon enough you’ll forget why you even wanted to run away.

[aesrot]

also my sweatshirt that I bleached just has a permanent but mildly faint smell of bleach atp :sob: i've washed it so many times and it s till smells like bleach in some parts

aw man :( maybe you can try using a thing like. those laundry products w smells. i wanan say softener but its probably smth else. ooh or vinegar or baking soda, ive heard its good for smells, although vinegar and bleach are a bad combo, but i think it should be fine if youve washed it multiple times

[vampacidic]

hi sage. 5 10 21 for the ask game... also yes i realize we are texting as i send this dont worry about it

well its fine because its been like 3 days since you sent the ask and im only now getting to it. so. does not even matter that you sent it while we were chatting <3

5. what's your favorite headcanon about the character you produce?

see i have not. uh. see i cannot tell how many rei thoughts i have that are canon or just my brain making shit up. personal thought at the moment? complete pansy. cannot take horror for the life of him. loves to go on about being a vampire and "demon of darkness" and whatnot and how that ties to her being some sort of horror creature but she gets mildly scared and she starts sobbing like a baby (but perhaps this is a well-timed ruse to fall into a nearby friend's arms...just to mess with them. who knows) (she does play up the terrified aspect though. just for fun. just to minimize the actual feelings he has)

10. which character do you think is the most underrated?

(broken record) adonis otogari...... i love u............... i wihs fan art existed of u.................................

21. do you have a favorite story?

GRAH outing myself as not having consumed much enstars. a big fan of resurrection sunday. its got everything i need. stupid shenanigans. fun rei lore. adonis monologue. adonis content in general that doesnt make me want to rip my hair out. kaoru being vaguely depressed the whole time and playing it off with humor and horny. breastfeeding. adonis and souma's whole thing. everything u need in life man

[whumpcateyes]

Warning for: fingernail removal, mildly suggestive? Idk Whumpee2 is enjoying themselves a lot…

“Please- please…. god…. stop…” Whumpee sobbed. They flexed their hand, wincing as the empty nailbeds shifted, blood dripped off the arm of the chair.

Whumper ran a hand through Whumpee’s hair, a facsimile of a comforting gesture, “shhh…. Just relax. As soon as Whumpee2 talks, it’s all over.”

Whumpee gritted their teeth. It gave them a sick feeling, knowing that it wouldn’t be that easy. The only escape was to convince Whumper to stop. “You don’t- you don’t understand….. they won’t…”

They flinched as Whumper slapped them across the face. “I didn’t say you could talk to me. Keep it up and I take your tongue next. Now, smile for the camera.”

They couldn’t move to hold the burning red mark that rapidly formed on their cheek as Whumper forced their chin towards the blinking red light. “You want this to end? Tell me what I want, and Whumpee gets a break. Tell me everything, and both of you get to walk out of here alive.”

Down the hall, trapped in a concrete block with nothing but a large monitor across the wall, Whumpee2 sat curled against the wall, breathing heavily. They covered their mouth with a hand, stifling the unbecoming noises they didn’t need Whumper hearing. They couldn’t take their eyes off Whumpee, off the blood that ran from their hands and feet. The sounds of their nails being pulled off echoed in their head, that sickening *snap* sent chills down their spine.

Their heart pounded all throughout their body, it was so…. Exhilarating. They wished they could be closer to the action, to touch the raw skin, lap up the blood with vigor. It was so frustrating that Whumper was standing in between, no way in hell they were going to let that asshole know how much they were loving it.

They picked up the walkie-talkie with a trembling hand, the desperate tone they had was thankfully similar to despair, “Stop- I swear- I don’t know anything… you don’t have to do this…”

Whumper scowled, grabbing a chunk of Whumpee’s hair tight enough to make them squirm. “Fine. Have it your way.”

They grabbed a knife off the cart, its jagged edge sent Whumpee back into hysterical pleading for them to listen. But they smiled into the camera, “Seems I’ve run out of nails for round 5, no matter. I’m sure I’ll find something.”

concept: whumper does the whole "kidnap two people and hurt one of them until the other cracks" thing, except it becomes increasingly clear that kidnappee 1 is enraptured with the torture of kidnappee 2 - can't stop staring, trying to hide their obvious delight, etc.

[zombiesama]

So since my earlier break down my mom has since 'apologized' but that apology was more so just 'sorry I had a rough day'

Not. 'Sorry I pretty much told you that your pain was an inconvenience while you were hunched over in agony'

So like. Theres that.