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itneverendshere · 2 days

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pogue reader getting sick but she can’t call out, but rafes fr mad at you about it

don't want less, don't want more - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

changed it a bit just bc i want to show reader's progress regarding her hyper-independence, they're already dating and past the "i love you" phase, i felt like some progress had to be made by this point, especially bc this is after their big fight in this. hope you enjoy <3

The floor beneath you feels like it's tilting, moving under your feet like a boat rocking on rough water. You blink a couple of times, hoping that’ll shake the haze taking over your vision, but it doesn’t do much.

The bar lights over your head are too bright, and the music thumping from the speakers makes your head feel like it’s trapped in a vice. The clink of glass, every laugh, every order shouted at you feels like a hammer driving nails straight into your skull.

You swallow hard, trying not to gag. Your throat’s raw, and your chest feels tight, but you’re powering through it because you don’t have much of a choice. Not a choice at all.

"Whiskey sour, extra sour!" some country club douchebag yells from the other side of the bar.

His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. You force a smile and nod, reaching for the bottle, but your hands are shaky. You catch yourself on the edge of the bar before you can drop it.

This morning, you could barely get out of bed. Fever burning through you like you were standing too close to a bonfire, throat too sore to talk, and your head pounding so hard you thought you were going to pass out just brushing your teeth.

You tried calling in. Tried. Told your manager, Greg, that you were sick as hell, couldn’t make it, but the guy just grunted like he always does. "Can’t afford anyone calling out today," he said. Like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up to sling drinks for a bunch of rich assholes.

So here you are.

You rub the back of your neck, trying to loosen up some of the tension building there, but it doesn’t help. Nothing really does at this point.

"Hey!" The guy who ordered the whiskey sour snaps his fingers in your face. "You deaf or something? Whiskey. Sour."

"Got it," You mutter, trying not to let your voice crack as you finally pour his drink.

Your vision swims a little as you set it down in front of him, and for a second, you think you might actually faint right here at the bar.

That’d be something. Faceplant into a bunch of overpriced cocktails in front of half of the Kooks on this island. Greg would probably just step over you and ask you to get back to work.

You lean against the bar for a second. Your stomach rolls, threatening to revolt, but you choke it back. You can’t afford to be sick here. Not when you’re already in trouble with your manager for barely making it on time. You think back to the half-assed breakfast you tried to eat—if you can call a slice of toast breakfast—and how your stomach rejected it like poison.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Rafe coming in. And suddenly, you’re even more aware of how wrecked you are.

You know he still struggles with how independent you are sometimes. You’ve always been the kind of girl who handles things on her own, and Rafe has this tendency to think that means you don’t need him.

Today, though? You need him more than ever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to call for help.

You immediately know it’s gonna be a thing.

His eyes lock onto you from across the bar, and even through the fog in your head, you can see that look on his face. He’s pissed. Of course, he’s pissed. His jaw’s clenched like he’s biting back whatever rant he’s about to drop on you, and you can already feel the tension creeping up your neck.

Great, as if you didn’t feel bad enough already.

You try to stand a little straighter, look a little less like you're one second from collapsing, but your legs are jelly, and the room’s still spinning like you’re on some messed-up carnival ride.

You don’t want him to see how bad you’re hurting right now. But today? You’re too out of it to even try and explain.

He strides up to the bar, looking sharp, as usual. Meanwhile, you probably look like death warmed over. His eyes are scanning you, taking in the pale face, the way you’re gripping the edge of the bar like you’re about to keel over. You see his lips tighten, and yeah, he’s definitely about to lay into you.

“You didn’t call,” he says, voice low but definitely annoyed. He leans in, trying to keep this between just the two of you, but with how loud the bar is, it still feels like a confrontation.

“I’m fine,” you lie, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace.

Rafe’s eyes narrow. He’s not buying it. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Why didn’t you call me?”

You hate that you feel guilty.

“Because I’m handling it,” you say, voice softer now. But even you can hear how weak you sound.

It’s not convincing. Hell, you’re not even convinced.

He crosses his arms, looking down at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “Handling it? Baby, you can barely stand.”

You let out a sigh, trying not to let it turn into a cough.

"I’m fine," you repeat, but even you know it sounds pathetic at this point. Your head feels like it's full of cotton, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through the next few minutes, let alone your entire shift.

But pride’s a bitch.

Rafe just stands there, arms crossed, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to come clean. You can feel his frustration, but there’s something else, too. Worry. It’s in the way his eyes keep flicking over your face, how his fingers are tapping against his arm like he’s holding himself back from just scooping you up and carrying you out of here.

"I heard from Topper," he finally says, like he’s been holding that card in his back pocket. You blink, trying to keep up. "He saw you at the club earlier, said you didn’t look right."

Great. Freaking Topper. Of course, idiot couldn’t mind his own business. You can almost picture him, all dressed up in some preppy golf outfit, spotting you from across the course and making a note to text Rafe the second he saw something off.

Rafe’s still watching you, waiting for a reaction.

You open your mouth, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to brush it off, but your brain’s too foggy, and all you manage is a weak, "I was fine then."

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? 'Cause Top said you looked like you were about to hurl on the 9th hole." He’s trying to keep his voice low, but you can tell he’s annoyed. Not at Topper, not even really at you—just at the whole situation.

You want to snap back, tell him you’re fine, that you’ve got it under control. But instead, all that comes out is another tired sigh. “Greg wouldn’t let me call out. Said they needed me.”

“You serious?”

“Dead-serious.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches so tight you think you hear his teeth grind. His hands come out of his pockets, flexing like he’s about to hit something—or someone. He runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down before he says something he’ll regret.

But you know him—he’s never been great at holding back when he’s pissed. And right now? He’s definitely pissed.

“Greg said that?” His voice is low, but there’s this dangerous edge to it, like he’s two seconds away from losing it, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come down here, I would’ve—”

“I know.” You cut him off because you do know.

He would’ve dropped everything and come running. That’s exactly why you didn’t call. You didn’t want to be the a burden again. Like you said, you’re still working on yourself.

Rafe leans against the bar, his whole body radiating this intensity that makes you feel both comforted and nervous.

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, voice louder now, not even bothering to keep it low-key anymore. “You’re sick as hell, and that asshole wouldn’t let you stay home?”

You wince. He’s drawing attention now, people at the bar starting to glance over. You hate seeing him like this, but you don’t have the energy to smooth things over.

“Rafe, please—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No, seriously. What kind of fucking manager forces someone to come in when they’re this sick?” His voice carries, and a couple of the other bartenders are giving you looks, like they can’t decide if they’re more surprised or impressed by Rafe’s audacity, "You’re killing yourself for this job, and he doesn’t give a fuck.”

You glance toward the back, hoping Greg’s still in the office and not witnessing this meltdown. The last thing you need right now is more heat from him. But of course, your luck sucks, because just as Rafe’s ramping up, Greg strides out from the back, clipboard in hand, that same stupid scowl on his face like he’s already annoyed at everything.

Rafe spots him instantly, and if you thought he was mad before, now he’s on a whole other level.

"Greg!" Rafe calls out, loud enough that half the bar turns to look. Your stomach sinks. This is about to get ugly.

Greg stops dead in his tracks, his eyes flicking to Rafe and then back to you. He knows. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, and he’s already losing the upper hand.

“Yeah, Rafe?” Greg’s voice is weak, almost shaky. Like he’s trying to keep it together, but he knows he’s got no chance. Rafe’s family literally owns half the island—Greg’s just some middle manager with too much attitude.

Your boyfriend steps forward, slow and deliberate, closing the space between them like he’s already won this thing.

“You made her come in today?” His voice is calm, but it’s that scary kind of calm that’s worse than yelling. The kind that makes your stomach drop because you know the person holding it together is barely holding back.

Greg opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is this pathetic mumble. “We… we were short-staffed.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his lips pulling into this cold, humorless smile. “Short-staffed?” He glances at you, and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You really didn’t want this to turn into a scene, but here you are. “You see how she looks right now? You made her come in like this?”

Greg’s eyes flick back and forth between you and Rafe, and you can see the panic starting to set in. He’s sweating now, probably realizing that this little power trip he’s on is about to bite him in the ass. “She didn’t… uh… say she couldn’t work…”

“She told you she was sick,” Rafe cuts him off, voice like steel. “You’re the manager, right? Thought that meant taking care of your staff. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to think of something to say, but nothing’s coming. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, knowing any move he makes right now could get him fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted from every job on the island. The Cameron’s have that kind of pull.

“I-I didn’t realize how bad it was,” Greg finally stammers, but even he doesn’t sound convinced by his own excuse.

Rafe takes another step forward, practically towering over Greg now. “You didn’t realize?” He laughs, but there’s no warmth in it. “Look at her, man. How could you not realize?”

You wince as the room seems to get quieter, everyone watching this power struggle unfold. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but you also know that Rafe’s not letting this slide.

Greg takes a step back, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“I-I was just trying to keep things running. We… we were slammed.”

Rafe’s smile drops, and now it’s just pure ice. “You think that’s a good enough reason to put my girlfriend’s health at risk?”

Greg looks like he’s about to pass out himself at this point, but he manages to mutter, “No… no, I—I didn’t mean…”

“Here’s the deal, Greg,” Rafe says, voice low but dangerous. “You’re gonna back off. Let her finish this shift if she wants. If she doesn’t? She’s out, no questions asked. And next time, when she says she’s sick, you listen.”

Greg nods so fast it’s like his head’s on a swivel. “Of course, of course, Rafe. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just—”

“Good,” Rafe interrupts, already turning away like he’s done with this conversation. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Greg just stands there, wide-eyed and frozen, clearly too scared to even argue. He stammers some half-hearted apology, but Rafe’s already turning back to you, brushing the whole thing off like it was nothing.

You look up at him, still in shock at how quickly Greg folded. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bar with that easy confidence he always has. “Yeah, I did,” he says, his tone softening now that it’s just the two of you. “I’m not gonna let some nobody push you around like that.”

You sigh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. “You know he’s probably gonna hate me even more now.”

Rafe smirks, like that’s the least of his concerns. “Who cares? He won’t say a fuckin’ thing. Trust me.”

“Everyone’s going to say a thing, baby. They’re gonna think I have some kind of privilege because I’m dating you.”

Rafe’s smirk softens. He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear him over the dull roar of the bar.

“Let them think whatever they want,” he says, his hand brushing against yours. “You’ve been busting your ass here long before I ever stepped in. Nobody can take that from you.”

You bite your lip, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, judgment and curiosity. He’s right in a way—you’ve been working extra hard. But still, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that now, everyone’s going to assume you’ve got some special treatment just because of Rafe’s name.

“It’s not about that,” you murmur, “I just—don’t want people thinking I can’t stand on my own. I don’t want to be the girl who hides behind her boyfriend’s power.”

Rafe tilts his head, studying you with that look he always gives when he knows you're holding back.

“You think that’s what this is?” His voice is steady, his tone a little softer now. “This wasn’t about power, baby. This was about someone treating you like you didn’t matter. And I’m not letting anyone—anyone—do that to you.”

He’s not wrong.

Greg didn’t give a damn about how sick you were, only about keeping the bar running, like you were replaceable. And you hate how right Rafe is, how much you needed someone to step in, even if it makes you feel a little helpless. You swallow hard, the tightness in your chest easing slightly, though your body still feels like it’s been run over by a truck.

“And you’re not working anymore today, or the next week for that matter. You’re gonna get your ass in my car and we’re going to the doctor.”

You nod, knowing there’s no arguing with Rafe when he’s like this, but part of you still feels guilty.

Not for needing help exactly, but for not being able to handle it all on your own. You've always been the girl who grits her teeth and gets through it, but today? Your body is screaming at you that you just can’t. Not anymore.

Rafe’s watching you closely, like he’s waiting for you to argue, but you don’t. You’re too drained. The adrenaline from the confrontation with Greg is wearing off, and now all you feel is this bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m not going to a doctor,” you say, even though you know you probably should. “Just home. I just need to sleep.”

He narrows his eyes like he’s trying to read between the lines of what you’re saying, but then he just nods. “Fine. But if you’re not better by tomorrow, I’m dragging you to urgent care. No arguments.”

You give him a weak smile, trying to show you appreciate it even though you feel like crap.

“Deal.”

Without another word, he moves around the bar, ignoring Greg’s gawking and the way everyone’s still sneaking glances at you two. He gently takes the towel out of your hand, sets it on the counter, and slips an arm around your waist.

It’s the first time you’ve felt stable all day, leaning into him like you might actually make it to the car without collapsing.

“I don’t think I can afford an appointment.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His arm tightens around your waist, steadying you as you start to sway a little on your feet.

"Not worried about the money.”

You try to shake your head, but the movement makes you dizzy, and you stop, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

"I just don’t want to be that person, you know? Relying on you for everything."

He gives you a side glance, eyebrows raised.

"Baby, you’re not relying on me for everything. You’re literally sick, and I’m not about to let you tough it out just because you’re too stubborn to ask for help. We’ve talked about this a million times.”

"I guess," you mumble, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you walk towards the door.

"No guessing about it," he says, softer now, his fingers brushing your arm in a way that makes you feel more grounded. "You’ve been holding down the fort for too long. Let me take care of you for once."

The air outside hits you like a slap, but Rafe keeps you close, leading you toward his car. Your legs are weak, the fever still simmering under your skin, but his body warmth keeps you upright.

"Thanks," you whisper, even though it feels weird to say. You’re not used to thanking people for basic care, but with Rafe, it feels different.

He pauses, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don’t gotta thank me, okay? I’m just doing what anyone who loves you would do."

Your heart skips at that. You’re still not used to how easily he says stuff like that, like it’s no big deal. But he’s rubbing off on you, because you can say it just as easily now.

“I love you too, sorry for being a pain in your ass.”

Rafe chuckles as he helps you into the car, leaning down to make sure you’re settled before he shuts the door. He bends down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You're always a pain in my ass," he murmurs against your skin, grinning as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "But you’re my pain in the ass, and that’s what matters."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite how wrecked you feel. The fever, the headache, the exhaustion—it all takes a backseat, at least for a moment.

Knowing Rafe’s always got your back? That makes it a little easier to breathe.

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bitterkarella · 9 hours

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Midnight Pals: Ssspace Ssstory

JK Rowling: hello children Poe: oh Joanne! Poe: I'm Poe: I Poe: I really did not expect to see you again Rowling: oh really edgar? and why wasss that? Poe: because of that whole Olympics business

Poe: you know with imane khelif Poe: all that stuff you did Poe: we just kinda thought Poe: you know we all thought Poe: and I don't just mean me i mean Barker: we all thought your lawyer told you to fuckin zip it

Rowling: well well well clive Rowling: assss you should all know by now Rowling: JK Rowling heedssss the wordsss of no goblin lawyer!

Rowling: I ssslither to the beat of my own pungi! Rowling: I'm my own dark lord! Rowling: and nobody'ssss ssssweetheart! Rowling: I'M JK FUCKIN' ROWLING!!!! Poe: so then Poe: why are you here Joanne? Rowling: i'm here becaussse i have a new ssstory

Barker: a new story? Barker: is it more terf shit? Rowling: it's in ssspace! Barker: the terfs are in space now? Rowling: i didn't sssay it was about terf ssshit Barker: you also aren't denying it Rowling: Rowling: sssss

Barker: oh a space story huh? Rowling: i call it Rowling: Commander Bibbles Blobkin and the Goofy Galactic Goobygloob Barker: Poe: Koontz: Lovecraft: King: King: well, I love it!!

Barker: i'd like to ask Ursula her opinion Rowling: we don't need to get her opinion Barker: hey Ursula what do you think of this? Rowling: we really don't need to asssk her Rowling: we already know how she feels Ursula Le Guin: it stinks Rowling: yeah well sssee what i mean?

Rowling: my firssst idea wasss Chrisstmas Pigss in Ssspace

King: what inspired you to do a space story, joanne? Rowling: well, i wassss watching ssstar trek the other day King: great show, great show Rowling: i didn't care much for it Rowling: it had the ssstink of diane duane Rowling: [flicking tongue] i can tassste her!

Rowling: but what i DID like Rowling: wasss how the crew of the ssstarship enterprissse jussst poopsss whereever they want to and then they jussst beam it out into ssspace Poe: King: Lovecraft: Koontz: Barker:

Poe: i don't think that's actually how they do it, joanne Rowling: WELL Rowling: why wouldn't they??? Rowling: i mean, they have the technology!

Rowling: you are all legally obligated to love my new ssstory! Rowling: it'sss a jolly ssspace adventure! Rowling: but maybe that'sssss too ssssophissssticated for you lot here at the midnight ssssociety Rowling: maybe i would find a more receptive audience Rowling: at SSSSPACE COVEN!

Barker: so she went over to Space Coven? Barker: yeah that's gonna be weird Barker: i don't know how her terf shit will go over with them Poe: yes, sci fi writers are generally very progressive on that issue Barker: no i mean cuz they're all chasers Poe:

Barker: what? you're acting like you all didn't know this Barker: everyone knows sci fi writers are all chasers Poe: clive you're just saying things now King: yeah c'mon, surely not ALL of them King: i mean, what about Robert Heinlein? Barker: you're seriously asking?

Poe: clive do you know something or are you just making stuff up now? Barker: i'm just saying he's got a vibe Barker: tell me he doesn't

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #jk rowling #ursula le guin

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witches-dream · 3 days

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Imagine you have a son, and he's growing very disciplined, which is good, but he's very introverted, not really in a shut-in kinda way, he just seems very unapproachable to people, and he is, because he's just so serious all the time. Like you look at him and, yeah, he's gonna be great warrior, but you also wish that he could. Socialize a little?

So your son grows up and leaves to fulfill some kinda grand goal and you're like "ok, son", still kinda worried about him, but he's not your baby anymore, he can do what he wants. So he leaves and after a few days you hear this earth-shattering lightning strike, no storm before or after or anything, everybody is wondering what happened and if you'll all die soon. Nothing happens past that, actually, it feels strangely peaceful. So after a few days your son comes back and he doesn't look any different, but he has definitely changed in like a week or two that he was gone. So he says "father, I have defeated the black and white dragons". You're kinda shocked, but that explains the lightning strike and how everything went quiet after it, and your son is not one to lie, so you you say "oh, for real? neat". "They are not going to bother anyone anymore." Your son says in a solemn tone. Later, everyone celebrates but he doesn't come. You knock into his room, and, even through a closed door, you can feel some sort of power, warmth radiating from it. He opens the door and his sword looks... Different. First of all, it's much bigger. It has a completely different shape. And there's this... Purple gem on its handle and it's glowing brightly. Nobody in this village could've forged such an otherworldly masterpiece. So you ask "got a new sword, son?" He says "Yeah. It's a Soul Jam, actually." "A Soul Jam? Never heard of it." "I will tell you later."

He reluctantly agrees to join the celebration, but after a few weeks he leaves the village. He starts building a citadel, and walling off the coast of the Licorice Sea. People are already calling him Your Majesty, though he's slow on accepting that title. Many decades pass and you're so old you can't get out of the house on your own anymore. Your son visits and he looks the exact same as when he left. He takes care of you, with the same cold face he's always had, though his hands are warm and him just being there warms your heart. You strain your old and tired vocal cords to utter "I'm proud of you, son." He's silent, but he nods, and his long hair obscures his face, but you can imagine he's happy to hear that.

It's after you die that he accepts the throne, and the title of King that was decided by the people whose respect for him towered the mountains. And, as it turns out, your son is immortal now. And, through the years, through the decades and centuries and even millennia, he takes the utmost care of all his subordinates, he remembers every face of his every warrior and he etches out their names and immortalizes them and prays to them each day.

Your son does many great things, many heroic deeds. He defends the kingdom he founded with a resolution of a true warrior. Your son made friends. There's only four of them, they are heroes of their own lands just like him, so they're busy most of the time, but they go on adventures and they have fun once a couple of centuries. Your son also makes many mistakes, says things he deeply regrets. He has a son, and, even being thousands of years old, he still thinks of you and wishes he could be even half as great a father as you were.

Maybe sometimes your son wishes you were around to lend a word of advice, or to say "I'm proud of you" one more time. Other times, he's ashamed of a thought that you might be out there somewhere, watching him from the heavens and shaking your head in disapproval. You have no way of telling him you love him either way, with all his virtues and all his vices alike. What matters is that, in the end, your son overcomes all adversities and becomes a better person. He was given a unique chance in life: to have infinite time to learn, and he uses all that time to become a better person.

You have no regrets. You can rest peacefully, knowing you have raised a hero.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #dark cacao cookie #my art #it started as a joke but then it became something somewhat serious so i hope you still enjoy lol

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kings-highway · 3 days

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haikyuu ships but its ways they said "i love you" before they had the courage to say "i love you."

daisuga: Suga's favourite movie of all time doesn't really mesh with Daichi. He thinks it's confusing and weird, and the gore is way over the top. But Suga loves it, and the comfort it provides, especially when he's sick, so Daichi always watches it with him even if he hates it. "Why do you always agree to this?" Suga asks, as Daichi's settling in to ride out another viewing. "Because it's something you love," he replies, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

iwaoi: Iwaizumi doesn't think he's ever going to convince Oikawa that he's the best setter, or that he's worked hard enough, or that he doesn't need to compare himself to everyone else. But he hates the way Oikawa can't seem to find value in himself outside of some seemingly fickle ranking system in his mind. So when they're fighting, and Oikawa keeps saying that it's just "objective fact" that Tobio is better than him, Iwa has to grab him by the face and tell him: "I won't let you slander things I care about."

ushiten: Tendou had often made the joke about being Ushijima's best friend, because it was funny. All their team, their classmates, always laughed. "He's my bestest bud," Tendou would say, because the whole school knew they made a funny pair, and it was laughable to think Ushijima would ever articulate a sentiment as juvinile as "best friends." Of course, when Ushijima realizes that people find this joke funny, he's very confused. "If it is a matter of not being good enough for you," Ushijima says, because he cannot think of a reason anyone would disparage Tendou, so it must be joke at his own expense, "then I will earn it."

kagehina: Hinata gets injured late in their second year. Its not the worst injury in the world and will heal just fine, but it takes him out of practice for a few weeks at the beginning of summer. He expects Kageyama to forget about him during this time. What good is a spiker who can't jump, can't even practice? But that doesn't happen. Kageyama seems to, if Hinata's not mistaken, dote on him. Carries his stuff, scolds him for not elevating the offended ankle properly, tells him to be careful. "Why are you being so fussy?" hinata asks. "Because I can't stand the idea of you not making a perfect recovery," Kageyama replies. "Who else could keep up with me?"

tsukkiyama: Yamaguchi likes to tease Tsukki over his lack of other friends. "You're too mean, you scare them away!" and "You're gonna have one lonely birthday if the only person who bothers to show up is me!" The last time he said this, though, Tsukki had replied with: "You're enough." and Yamaguchi still hasn't quite gotten over it yet. They celebrate his birthday just the two of them that year.

arankita: Aran came over to help on the farm over spring break. He didn't have to - between you and me, he hated that kind of physical labour anyway - but it was a way to spend a little more time with Kita before they graduated. At the end of the break, Kita surprises him by giving him a key to the house, "for emergencies," just in case. When Aran blusters and tries to ask why, Kita says: "I trust you." Considering Kita has never trusted anything except for himself and his own actions, Aran isn't sure any spoken sentiment could have meant more in that moment.

#haikyuu ships #daisuga #iwaoi #ushiten #kagehina #tsukkiyama #arankita

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astuteology · 2 days

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Some more astrology notes/observations🍀🦫

🪐Aries placements are more observant than Scorpio placements. Here's why- they are the babies of the zodiacs, and as a baby, they observe everyone and everything around them. Learning things on their own. Knows who has bad aura or energy.

🪐Planets in the 5th house makes you more appealing to others than planets in the 1st house.

🪐Capricorns placements are hard to anger but once angered, their rage is worse than an aquarius or a cancer.

🪐Underdeveloped cancers fit the stereotype of gemini having 2 faces than gemini itself.

🪐Mercury in the 1st house individuals are turned off "badly" by people who talk shit and speak with half knowledge.

🪐1st house moon has this brightness on their face that makes others stop and stare. I'm sure they've had this question "do I have something in my face?". Actually you do, it's your magnetism.

🪐Underdeveloped Scorpio rising are all talk and no action. They're gonna be like "oh I'm gonna show them why they shouldn't have done that!". And then they run away, avoiding confrontation.

🪐As much as an aries like direct, clear and open communication, they themselves act passive-aggressive sometimes.

🪐Speaking of aries, their love for freedom is above everything. They want love that frees them. Same goes for aquarius.

🪐Virgo's perfectionism can make them loyal and dedicated partners.

🪐Cancer sun + leo moon, when in an argument with their love, they became dramatic and attention seeking, needing reassurance.

🪐Aquarius sun + Scorpio moon makes the individual fear intimacy and emotional vulnerability. Aqua's reluctance to open up and scorpio's intense emotional needs. This create a push and pull dynamic.

🪐Taurus venus + Sagittarius mars makes an individual have conflicting desires. Commitment vs exploration. Stability vs adventure. Emotional intensity vs intellectual connection.

🪐Scorpio placements are often lost in their thoughts even more than gemini or pisces placements. They often feel like outsiders, observing life from afar.

🪐Leo placements are passionate. Like VERY passionate. They do be having a tendency to burn the bridges, quick and fast.

🪐Capricorns often possess a witty, understated sense of humor.

🪐Speaking of Capricorn, they are sooooooooo slow to trust. Even more than a Scorpio.

🪐Aries moon is as sensitive as cancer and pisces moon. They feel so deeply.

🪐Aries placements competitiveness can lead to sabotage and self destruction.

🪐Cancers strive for perfection more than a virgo. But this can lead to anxiety and burnout.

🪐Taurus placements can love you and never let you know. Ever.

🪐I've seen virgo placements being obsessive in relationships more than Scorpio placements. (Tell me why, please.)

🪐Sagittarius placements are often restlessness. They are looking for something that they don't even know.

🪐Mars square uranus- self destructive tendencies.

🪐Aries venus in the 12th house: hidden vulnerability- fear of loss. Fear of losing themselves or their lover.

🪐Mercury square neptune- inner turmoil and emotional depth.

🪐Moon square Saturn: inner critic. Perfectionism.

🪐Gemini in the 12th- easily distracted. Easily scattered. A small memory can scatter them.

🪐Cancer moon in the 12th: fear of abandonment. Fear of emotional rejection. Difficulty in trusting others.

🪐Sun square Jupiter- confidence or arrogance?

🪐Sun conjunct saturn- fear of not shining. Fear of not meeting the expectations. Self doubt.

🪐Mercury conjunct pluto- obsessive tendencies.

🪐Mercury square chiron- self doubt that feels like it goes on forever. Self criticism.

🪐Venus square Saturn- harmony or authenticity?

🪐Libra venus in the 12th- fear of opening up. Fear of being judged. Fear of angering your partner.

🪐Pluto square moon- terrified of superficial people tbh. They are very very very scared of opening up.

🪐Pluto trine neptune: rebirth. Transformation. Regeneration. Renewal.

🪐Jupiter square uranus: restlessness for something. Something that needs a change.

🪐Jupiter conjunct mars- fear if the unknown. (Strange? I know.)

🪐Saturn square moon- weight of responsibilities. Their head are usually heavy. (I'll fight with god to take half of your responsibilities.)

🪐Uranus square venus: detachment. Fear of intimacy. May even lose interest in love.

🪐Neptune square moon- reality or illusion? Is it real or is it fake? Am I being guided or am I being lied to?

🪐Scorpio in the 8th house is same as the Scorpio sun, moon or venus.

🪐Aquarius moon experience emotions in different ways, often needing space to process.

🪐Aquarius ascendant- unpredictable first impression.

#astrology observations #astro notes #astro placements #astrology placements #astro community #astrology notes #scorpio #aries #libra

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stanpinesdykewife · 3 days

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something really really self-indulgent because september makes me mentally ill. this is mostly just for me but figured i'd post it anyway :) enjoy

birthday month

stan/reader (enby)

pre/during/post-canon/unspecified

fluff, 1423 words

“You got me flowers?” you ask, equal parts excited and confused. It's the first thing you say when you open your front door to Stan, the sweetheart, holding a bouquet of bright, gorgeous flowers in front of his chest. You're smiling, a surprised laugh spilling out of you as red crawls up Stan's shy expression. “Stan, what's this for?”

“What, I can't give my favorite person some flowers?” The flush on his cheeks, the awkward way Stan rubs the back of his neck with one hand, betrays the gruffness of his voice. He shoves the bouquet closer to you and you take it with a careful grip, immediately bringing the flowers to your face to smell them. “They're because I like you. How's that?”

“That's a good reason,” you chuckle, stepping back and nodding towards your apartment. “Come in. I have a vase lying around, I think. Thank you, really, you just made my whole day.”

“Mission accomplished,” Stan says, like a dork, and you laugh as you lead him inside.

The next week, he's at your door again. You bark out a laugh when you open it to a familiar sight: Stan, with pink cheeks and a shy smile, holding a bouquet close to his chest. This time, he has a box of chocolates tucked under his arm.

“Another one?” you ask, accepting the flowers when he gives them to you. You give them a whiff, sighing softly at the fresh scent. “Okay, what's this one for?”

“I still like you. Congratulations,” Stan says proudly, showing off the chocolates. They're your favorite kind. You laugh again, your face warm. You step aside to let him in and he accepts the invite, touching lightly at your bicep as he passes by.

“I'm honored,” you say, and reach up just in time to grab his elbow and turn him around. You press a kiss to his chin when he does, smiling at the way he blinks at you afterward, taken aback, like you haven't been dating for as long as you have. “Thank you, Stan.”

“Don't mention it,” he says, his grin crooked, and he grabs your hand without looking to tug you into your own living room. “Come on, these sweets aren't gonna eat themselves.”

“You're sweet,” you say back, teasing, and Stan laughs loud at that, but even from behind him you can see the tips of his ears turn pink.

The next week, you're still surprised. But now you're a little suspicious.

“Okay,” you say slowly, hesitant in accepting Stan's third bouquet. He has a six-pack of your favorite beer in his other hand, and your tone makes him tense. He shifts awkwardly in place. “Now I'm starting to think you’re pulling a long con. What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Stan says, a little too quick to be believable, and you raise a brow in doubt. But you smell the flowers, and a smile crawls onto your face despite yourself. Stan continues, more casual this time, “Just thought I would spoil you. Is it wrong for a man to spoil the love of his life?”

You know the sentiment is strategic, meant to lower your guard and get you gushing over him instead of prying for an answer. But you chuckle anyway, effectively wooed, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Seriously. This isn't gonna be a long-term thing, is it? Bouquets like this are expensive, I know that much. I really appreciate it, but…” You trail off. Stan rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Uh… well, it was supposed to be a secret. On the low, y’know,” he admits. You perk up—You love knowing secrets.

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” you say, smiling. But Stan doesn't smile with you. He stares at a spot on your doorframe, his mouth screwing up in thought. When he doesn't answer, you laugh nervously. “Stan?”

“Listen, I, uh… I know it's your birthday month,” he starts, and your smile falls. Stan notices and immediately holds his hands out in front of him, placating. “But, but! I also know you don’t celebrate. I wouldn't spring a surprise on you even if I knew the date, which I don't, but… I dunno. I wanted to do somethin’ nice for you anyway. To show you I care about you, or whatever. You know.”

You do know. Stan's brown eyes are earnest and open, almost pleading, hoping you'll understand. You stare at him for a few moments, mouth parted, your grip tight on the bouquet and crinkling the nice wrapping paper holding it together. Your birthday month isn't exactly top-secret, but you didn't expect Stan to… You can't believe he…

“That's… really nice of you,” you say quietly, something tightening in your chest, something raw and emotional rearing its head behind your sternum. You're a little mortified, and you hate celebrating your birthday for a reason, and the intense, all-encompassing, fluttery feeling in your chest isn't funny at all. But it forces a giggle out of you, more flustered than anything else. Stan perks up at the sound. You think for another moment, but the look on Stan's face makes you come to a quick decision. Hesitantly, you assure him, “I'm not upset. This was a really sweet idea. Thank you.”

“Really?” he asks, and he looks so earnest and kind and warm that you can't help yourself from stepping forward and hugging him, pressing the side of your face into his broad chest. You're definitely crushing the bouquet against his spine, but evidently, neither of you care too much. Stan's arms come around you immediately, the six-pack digging into your lower back. He chuckles, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. “Heh. Glad it turned out okay.”

“Only because I like you so much,” you say, squeezing him tighter for another moment before pulling away. Stan lets up on the hug, but only enough to see your face. You don't know when you started smiling again, but you are. Stan registers it for less than a second before beaming at you, self-assured and affectionate, and that feeling in your chest only gets stronger. You don't know how to put it into words, but you try. With your hand not holding the flowers, you cup his face, keeping his gaze. You try by saying, “Thank you. Really. This… You mean a lot to me.”

If there's one thing Stan can't take, it's a genuine compliment. He laughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact, looking above your head somewhere. You let him, grinning as he shrugs and waves his free hand around as if to dispel the heat coming off his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well—It’s nothin’, really, it's not a big deal,” Stan rambles as your hand drops from his face to rest on his chest. “It took zero effort. Negative effort, in fact. Actually, I paid a guy to come up with the idea for me.” You laugh at the excuse, and suddenly all seriousness has left the air around you two.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should be thanking him,” you tease, leaning up, closer to his face. Stan finally looks back at you, his eyes flickering to your mouth. “How much?”

“For you? Forty bucks,” Stan says, a smile tugging at his lips. You laugh again, right in his face, and he acquiesces, “Okay, okay! Twenty.”

“I'll give you a kiss and a beer, on me,” you say, reaching behind yourself to grab the six-pack from his hand. Stan's grin is wide and toothy, and with both hands free, he places them on your waist.

“Deal,” he says, and before he goes in for the kiss, you take a mental snapshot: Stan, smiling, a fading flush on his face, framed by beer and flowers. Emotion wells up deep inside you, too-warm and overwhelming. You imagine your heartstrings knotted together, tangled tightly in an overheated mess of affection in your chest. You don't know how else to describe it.

Stan kisses you then, and you melt into him, hooking an arm around his neck as his hands slide around your waist. The bouquet is held tightly in your hand, the wrapper crinkling further behind Stan's head. You're sure some flower petals have fallen off, landing gently on his big broad shoulders, getting caught in the soft gray of his hair. You don't pull away to check. Instead, you sigh, content, into the plush of Stan's lips, under the slow glide of his wandering hands.

The feeling doesn’t go away. Whatever it is, it's good.

#inspired by my lovely girlfriend #who makes september easier #gravity falls #reader insert #stanley pines x reader #my writing

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oh-no-its-bird · 2 days

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hi listen i just had a divine intervention or smth lmk if you don't like it but

what if your team Ro time travel au + my time travel Tobirama

Team Ro would have memories of the canon and they got to this different timeline and there's Tobirama actively trying to seduce Uchiha fucking Madara. They didn't teach THAT in the Academy

They got in the time when Tobirama still orchestrated meetings, but Butsuma is already dead so if everything goes well, Tobirama would get Madara and peace soon.

And then there suddenly spawn a Hatake with a sharingan with 2 Uchiha kids and a Mokuton user. Political nightmare.

Later Tobirama recognises Kakashi and was like "The fuck? It's that Hatake from the war. What is he doing there, he should not have been born yet!!"

OHHH THATS SO GOOD THO???

I'm gonna be real I love the concept of "team ro time travel au but they time travel into someone else's time travel au," that's so good

If we go with your au, there's a really interesting immediate aspect of like: hey ! Tobirama might recognize Kakashi or maybe even Tenzo from the war, but these guys are way fucking younger than when they met !!!

Idk what exactly can be done with that but it's interesting to consider. Also Tobirama talked ab Itachi and his crimes before I'm p sure? So like he knows what happens to the Uchiha and that it was Itachi who did it for the village. I wanna see him faced w the kid who he once praised for slaughtering his own clan to prove his loyalty.

I wanna see him feel the consequences of the stress Itachi is under when he (and possibly Shisui) attempt to kill Madara.

Stop interfering with his fix it fic you brats!! He's already got it covered!! You're just causing a mess!!!!

They get zapped in, like, in the middle of Tobirama's happy ending epilogue too. Tobirama is peacefully eating dinner in his house w his new husband Madara thinking "well. Alls well that ends well." Then BOOM Kakashi Shisui Itachi and Tenzo crash out of fucking nowhere directly onto their table, getting covered in food and breaking the table in half

Immediatley arrested !! I feel like Tobirama would instantly understand what happened by recognizing their uniforms + potentially Kakashi + he's already a time traveler himself so it's really no stretch for him to go "oh fuck I didn't think we'd get a double jepordy in this bitch but I guess not"

But like it's not like he can just SAY that ? Or he could but it would bring a lot of questions he probably does not want to answer.

Now another problem arises in like. I don't think Tobirama is especially attached to any of these guys. I can see him maybe having a lingering "pay it forward ig" feeling just bc they're "loyal konoha soldiers" and it'd be a waste to let that resource just burn. But also like. Under no circumstances can Tobirama have these guys share certain aspects of future knowledge.

Tobirama worked so hard to get here !!!! Literal years of planning !!!! He got his happy ending and it very much rests on Madara staying safe and sane and NO ONE IMPLYING HE WILL BETRAY KONOHA EVER !!!!! Tobirama does not even wanna RISK that becoming a rumor, he will take no chances.

Anyways I think his best course of action would be to reveal himself as a time traveler specifically to team ro, then position himself as their hokage who they should remain loyal to, say that it is for Konoha's best interests that they do not reveal certain things, and play it by ear from there.

Tobirama deciding he can't risk team ro going forward in time again and potentially fucking up the time stream or smthn. They need to stay here. He can not risk losing this shit. Sorry guys it looks like your trapped here <3

Anyways team ro being scary loyal to him bc he is the closest approximation to their (current?) Hokage and only person w the knowledge to enforce that power over them (at this time)

In my original post, like, all of team ro are already established to be kind of at their worst and most loyal to the village at that point to. They are at THE age(s) to be manipulated like that tbh, rip

It's not too bad tho. I think Itachi would feel relieved but also very guilty. Shisui too. Tenzo is violently neutral bc hes still in his "learning to be a real boy" phase from root, but it's all positive for him tbh. Kakashi is tricky bc his mental state is the equivalent of someone rapidly bouncing a ball on a thin pane of glass trying to prove it's bullet proof (it's not) and has like MOUNTAINS of complexes around the words "konoha authority figure" and what he's leaving behind. He's probably the most determined to go back

Anyways uhh. Izuna gets Itachi to help him be skeptical of Tobirama and spy on him. Itachi only agrees bc he violently reminds him of Sasuke (this will develop into a complex if not stopped. Shisui is working on it.)

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curioscurio · 2 days

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Why we have to start being nicer to eachother:

I know it sucks and is hard, but I think we really do need to start treating techbros and incels and our fellow humans with a bit more compassion, empathy, and understanding before we jump to bad faith interpretation. Especially when seeing a bad take online used as bait for arguments. We have to give other people the opportunity and knowledge to think for themselves, and make the choice to become a better person on their own.

"Hold on! Why should I be nice to people like that? THEY'RE the ones who are being bigoted to US!"

Well, I'll try and answer that question below! I ended up writing a lot, so check out the "read more" if you're curious. At the end of the day, I'm not an expert or a professional on human behavior, so keep that in mind. This is just something I've been thinking about based on my own past experiences.

Conspiracy theorists, the far right, gun enthusiasts, and even MAGA's all operate on the belief that modern society hates them for who they are. They think the entire world is against them.

And, looking at the kind of hate rhetoric and harmful ideologies they talk about; the cruel acts of casual and extremist violence that stem from that community, it easy to see why the world has turned its back on them. Right?

It makes you wonder: "Why are they like this?"

The easy way out is to simply hold on to the belief that they are behaving this way because they are bad people. Bad people do bad things, after all.

But when the world turns its back on a group of people, those people turn their backs on the world. They will naturally gravitate towards whichever group of accepting humans they come across first. Whoever validates their feelings and makes them feel accepted and safe instead of rejected and fearful.

The far right preys on young men who don't know know any better because they are never treated any better. They have influencers, exactly like Donald Trump, that make you feel safe. They also are lying to these people and using their fear of rejection to control them.

It's very similar to how the Church will help you out and feed you if you're homelss... as long as you join the church and donate 10% of your earnings to "God." (The churchs bank account. )

That is to say, people don't usually pop out of the womb with these prejudices and fears programed into their heads. It's something that has to be taught to them by somebody else. Their parents, the church, their school, their friends, youtubers, etc.

"So, what do we do? How do we save future and current generations from being sucked into this hateful spiral of far right bigotry?"

"How do we help our conservative parents, who we know love us but are absolutely convinced that they need guns to keep their families safe? How do we help our Trump Train family members who used to be loving, compassionate, people?"

Well, you're not gonna like the answer. We have to start being nicer to everyone. We have to be nicer to incels, dude bros, techbros, Karen's, and yes, even your average Republican voters. We have to show them compassion and empathy when they're expressing their fears, without immediately attacking them for it. We have got to prove to them that there's a place for them to come back to.

Their fears are being taken advantage of by a system that benefits from pitting the general population against each other. If we're too busy fighting eachother, we can never join forces and fight the system.

And so it turns into a self-sustaining system of fear and reactive lashing out. They start believing that everybody is against them, except the few people who understand. Until the only safe place left for them is the Q Anon message boards. Quite literally an orobourous of hate.

"But Curio! They literally want us dead! These people are violent and irredeemable!"

Many of them are. So many of these people are groomed into believing that the only way they can keep themselves safe is by killing anything they think has caused them harm. It's an intentional system maintained by those in power to control those who are not.

Some of them, however, are just normal people who got in with the wrong crowd or are too young to know better. Some people were never given the chance to be better.

"So, what SHOULD we do? Be nice to our oppressors? Let them get away with hate crimes and bigotry?"

No. But we DO need to stop thinking of "them" as this massive malevolent demographic who have no souls and are inherently evil. The majority of these people were lied to and manipulated and groomed into these beliefs.

We have to try harder to stop ourselves before we start calling them names and attack them, regardless of if they deserve it or not. We have to engage with them on good faith. Learn about WHY they believe conspiracy theories and why it stems from fear.

"Why? What will this help?"

Because you're quite literally showing them that there's another option available for them to take. You're showing them that, if they do change their minds and want to change their behavior, that you are a safe person to approach with these thoughts. You have the power to create a space for them where they're allowed to think for themselves without punishing them for it.

Once you create that connection, it's like you're showing them another road in life they can explore. They now can see a new future for themselves. A future where their kids start talking to them again. A future where they're not terrified of being humiliated for being soft. A future where they feel listened to.

And that's all. You just have to give them that chance. It's not your job to change their mind, or to tell them that they're wrong for thinking thoughts. In fact, trying to do just that will usually encourage them to double down.

But what you CAN do is build an environment where they have the OPPORTUNITY to change their mind. You can be kind, empathetic, and educational. Be patient and listen and have a respectful conversation with them.

It is especially important for people with privilege to step up and be those kinds of diplomats. People who are able and willing to look past the surface bigotry to address the scared humans underneath. People who can do this without endangering themselves or their community. This may be other cis straight white people who can get away with bringing these topics up gently, without triggering reflexive defensiveness. Who then have the patience to gently educate them and steer them towards a better path.

"But Curio, I can't do this. I've been hurt too many times by these people, and doing this would cause me significant mental distress."

Then don't. You're not obligated to be the better person for every situation and circumstance. Nuance must be taken into account. You don't have to be nice to every troll or ragebait Twitter post. I certainly don't want you to put yourself in a situation that causes you emotional, physical, or mental harm. Hell, you don't even have to give them the time of day. It's your own responsibility to make the judgment call regarding your health.

But people simply won't change if there's no room for them to change. And some people have the power to make that room for them little by little.

"I've tried everything. I've begged, cried, been nice, and shown them that we won't reject them. They won't change their minds no matter what."

And that's also ok! It can happen. When you give people the opportunity to make choices for themselves, there will always be people who still choose to believe the system they were groomed on. They can do that because thats free will, baby. There will still be people who will not change their minds and who will actively choose to become more radicalized.

And it's sad to see. But you also have to respect that sometimes people aren't ready to change at the same time that you're ready to help them change.

But you should try to do it for all the young men and children who are being taught by their parents that White Genocide is real. You should do it for the parents who love their kid so much, but are so terrified when they say they're transgender because they don't know what to do. Because they know the world will not treat them fairly or are afraid of ruining everything.

You should do it for your 10 year old nephew who watches Andrew Tate because their mother doesn't give a damn enough to check what kind of YouTube videos their kid is watching. You should do it for the depressed and hurting teenager who thinks they have no option left but to buy a gun and shoot up their school, because no ones listening to them. You should do it for the tradwife who's alone and hurting after her conservative husband cheated on her and left her with nothing; because she thought she would be the exception.

"...How do you know this will work? What if you're wrong, and nothing changes?"

I don't! I'm just a random person on the internet. I dont know who might read this. It's just my opinion.

But at least, at the end of the day, you tried your best to be a good person to another human being, and I don't think that's such very a bad thing. For me, I'm going to try because I don't want to lose my father to that kind of environment. I want to be able to have a normal conversation with him again.

There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.

#long post #us politics

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aerodaltonimperial · 1 day

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okay, i am GENUINELY not trying to be patronizing or condescending right now, but the amount of pearl-clutching and freaking out that's happened in the past six months or so about the wrestlers you write about finding your fic has been quite high, and VERY GENUINELY, if you are one of the people panicking: how did you not factor this in as a possibility in the first place? i'm being serious. how did you, when you sat down to write about real people, not think that those very real people with internet connections and a metric fuckton of boring travel time were not going to find fanfics about themselves if they wanted to?

we are in an age where fanfiction is mainstream. back in 2000, when i was in high school, you didn't talk about that shit, but now? people are reccing fanfics on tiktok videos. publishing has figured out that writers here put out good stuff and are repackaging it for profit. ao3 is a hugo award winning fanfiction archive. y'all. it's out there. it's all out there. this is a fan space. it's still our space. you can't stop them from ending up here, but that's on them, not us. if you're freaking out, then maybe this isn't something you want to be doing. i'm being very serious. if this is causing you panic, you probably should not be part of this in the year 2024. but, like, i would bet a fairly substantial amount of money that at least 50% of them are well aware of what their number one pairing on ao3 is.

they're already here. they already know. they have always known lol. i'm, like, 75% sure i've had lines lifted from fics before, and honestly, that's not a panic moment, that's a fuck yeah i really nailed that moment. you're not doing anything wrong. this is a fan space. as long as you aren't putting it in front of them and they came here on their own? besties, you're good. you're great. it's fine. i'm being serious, please stop panicking. you gotta roll with it if you're gonna be here. you gotta assume that, at any point, someone involved could find what you're writing. genuinely, if you are not comfortable with that, then you're gonna have to just keep your fics to some google docs you share with a few friends. i know that not everyone has had a red alert level 5 the call is coming from inside the house moment, but it's one of those things. it comes with the territory.

we gotta stop freaking out every month lol. take the acknowledgements and laugh about them. it's fun when they give shout-outs! they know what's cookin'. it's cute that they keep an eye on fandom and what's hitting with us. don't put it in their faces, don't tag them on social media with it, just keep doin' what you're doin' here in the fan space and having a nice time. i promise you'll be okay.

#i am too old for this lmaoooooo #like c'mon friends take the W #i would love to know which characterizations went over the best #i would LOVE to know which fics they liked the most #and sometimes we get to know these things!#but not if we keep panicking about it #shout-out to chuckie t for telling us he liked the domestic fics with trent the most #THAT SHIT IS SO CUTE

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monstersandmaw · 3 days

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Stark trying so hard to be Big Mean but only coming up with Big Soft is killing me.

Also I have a question that you're free not to answer but how long of a time span is there between Big Red's story and this one? And how long do not-yautjas live? Asking for no particular reason...

Hehe, Big Scawy Stark thinks he's So Mean and So Angy, but he's really just So Protecc (also of himself) and that comes across as So Snappy haha. Sometimes the Biggest Softies have the toughest outer shells though. It's how they stay Big Soft inside, after all.

I'm imagining it's set before Big Red's story. I think I said in that story that contact had been known between them for about five years at that point(?), so maybe it's about two or three years before Big Red's crew arrived on Earth? It's all a bit hand-wavy though 😅

Not-yaujta can live for a really long time, but they also mature a lot more slowly than humans do, so a not-yautja wouldn't be considered a full adult until they're about fifty Earth years old. Elder is probably around five or six hundred years old. Runt and Alchemist are probably around sixty, with Cannon and Stark around 100, give or take.

Again, I did not intend for this to take on such a big life of its own when I started it. I was just gonna write some reverse harem smutty scenes with some 'legally distinct, definitely-not-yautja' aliens and be done with it, but the darned thing sprouted enormous great plot legs and ran off with me still on board, with the bit firmly lodged between its teeth, so to speak... 😅. It was actually inspired by this very old drabbly prompt thing I wrote ages ago with some character names the same but slightly different natures/personalities. It also (very briefly) features a female not-yautja captain called Boxer. Maybe she can get her own story and reinvention in a future story too...

Reader's POV is up going shortly, and it's finally got a smutty Runt scene :). Elder's POV is after that...

(Catch up on the series here (free to access) on Patreon)

Here's the very quick comparison doodle I shared on the Patreon Discord for height refs and colours, btw:

#yautja inspired alien #ShipMates #poly alien romance #me at 5ft only coming up to Cannon's mid belly is hilarious

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sol-kha-ne-lubri-if · 1 day

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ros' reaction to mc having a hickey on their neck only to find out it's a mosquito bite later on?

Dear God you've been in inbox purgatory for a long while I'm so sorry, anyways, I'm gonna assume this is where they're crushing on you (not in a relationship) rather than the opposite lmao

AMBROSE ~

They've never been one to allow their siblings to deter them from doing whatever they please, so whyever would they stop now?

Especially when he has such a valid cause to it.

You see, it was your fault— that's what he was telling himself anyway. You just had to arrive in the dining hall with such a— such a blasphemous mark on your neck, proud for all to see, this should count as a slight against Baeurae! Fae knew you got around, that's not what was pissing them off about this whole thing...

It's the fact that you didn't approach them first of all.

Ambrose thought of himself as someone within your circle you could rely on, you know? Someone you— someone who could tell you which creatures were worth your time! You're an absolute beauty, everyone could be made aware of that just by looking at you! So why— why have you not told him a thing of what happened to lay such a— such an offensive thing on your skin?! What messy work it was as well, and how come there was only one? He really knew whoever had done it was a true loser then. If it were him, he would have pulled you in and not let you go until he could taste your—

"Mooooorning, you~" Ambrose hears Dottie chirp and he sits upright with his smile plastered upon his lips as though that was enough to prove to himself that he was perfectly fine with this— all of this. "Someone slept well, I denounce~!"

"If only!" you bemoan as you collapse into the chair and scratch at the mark on your neck. It's here that Ambrose sees just how upset you seemed to be, the way your body tenses so severely, the way your brow knits together, and you bury your nails into your own skin before Ambrose reaches out, making sure fae's hand was seen by you, and he carefully pulls your hand away before you scratch too deep. "My roommate— that dumbass— forgot to lock our godforsaken window the night before and a flupoflim wound up having gotten offensed by whatever dream they may have sensed of me and bit me right in the goddamn neck! I swear, I'm going to..."

"A flupoflim..." Ambrose repeats quietly to himself, biting his tongue to keep his smile from widening even further as he relaxes his hold on you far more, intertwining your fingers and slowly guiding you into his chest, his gloved thumb rubbing circles over the back of your palm as their cheek presses to your hair while you continue rambling about the pest in your room.

A small laugh shakes his chest, his eyes relaxing, half-listening to the way his sister plots with you on how to fume the flupoflims from the academy as he slowly raises your joint hands and drags his fingertips down from your palm to carefully brush against your pulsepoint.

"What a kerfuffle for my poor darling ditzy." Ambrose drawls, bring your wrist close to his face so he could press his lips to it, feeling the way your artificial heart beat inside. "Might I suggest a word of my own as remedy?"

Dottie ~

Dottie walks through the halls with her posse a few steps behind her, an idle smile on her expression as their voices carry through the grand halls, even though she had them step away from her so she could enjoy the peace and quiet to clear her thoughts. In moments as this, she would typically walk with you and your impecc-uliar companion. However, she doesn't know how much she can stand walking within your vicinity without wishing to slice at your neck and watch your good pour out like a fountain.

Maybe if she did that, the abomination on your neck would go away.

It was such a messy fucking job as well, it weren't even even, and you clearly didn't have that good a night if you were walking around with just one on your neck. If it were her, she would have mauled you for all to see! She would have tore at your neck until you'd have to be fixed up with stitches!

But no, apparently you decided you weren't good enough for her and you decided to go for some lowlife who clearly couldn't appreciate your beauty in the way she does—!

"—uite annoying, yeah." she's pulled out of her thoughts when she suddenly hears your voice around the corner, and she pauses, raising a brow as she hears your voice carried through the hall. "Maybe if you hadn't left the damn window open, I wouldn't be walking around with the bite of a flupoflim on my perfect skin! Do you even know just how itchy this fucking—!"

"It's a fly bite, calm down!"

"Of course YOU would be saying that, you're not the one who had gotten bitten by the damn thing— oh, Dottie?"

She had appeared around the corner with her books tucked below her chest and her hair gently blowing in nonexistent wind, before she strolls up to you with the air of majesty you came to know of (and expect) from her presence alone.

"There you are~ I was thinking of relaxing in the bathhouse whilst I set my books aside!" she chirps, stepping up to you and sliding a hand around your waist, pulling you close to her while she brushes her lips against your earlobe.

"Your friend is free to join us as well, if they so please~ In any case, I hear you have a flupoflim problem?"

She smoothly turns you and your companion around, allowing for said flupoflims to swoop in from the windows by her command to clean after the bodies their mistress had left behind, as well as all the ichorous organs that littered the floor.

She'd rather you not see such a distasteful sight~

Loriette Kei ~

"You've something there, I see." their face openly snarls at the sight of the offending mark on your neck, amidst the many other ones you allowed him to leave on you since it was his turn that day.

"I've a little something everywhere, if you couldn't tell." you respond dryly, feeling around your neck. He always mauled you, practically, as if he was trying to prove a point to his older sister and cousins. "You're not exactly the gentlest lover."

"Oh I can be gentle as a feather, you realize?" his strings envelop his body as his form shifts rapidly into a smaller one he was able to hop onto your shoulders with. "You don't give me many a reason to be gentle, is all. You're so... difficult sometimes, and by that, I mean any which time. Whatever you do or see that I may never think to be," their tail brushes against the bottom of your chin before they hop off your shoulder to sit on your lap, shifting back into his doll form to lean forward and pin you against the bed, a bit of their inky-black seeping through the cracks and running down his skin. "Is somehow always something you so readily use against me."

"I'm just looking out for whatever I deem to decree." you respond, your head resting back against the soft sheets of your dorm bed. You didn't often like sleeping in a bed that wasn't your own, after all, your bed was definitely the comfiest in the academy, and you were sure of that. "Now would you please tell me?"

"This," Loriette keeps himself hovered over your body while his strings reach forth to slowly wrap around your neck, the ends tickling against the mark he had seen earlier before they disappear, and his face is streaked with more of the void he kept inside himself.

"Oh, ugh. That." you roll your eyes and tilt your head to the window that allows you to look over sonder at the many bodies below your dorm. "My dormmate, Stesmi pray for them, didn't close the window before sleeping the night before, a flupoflim came and—"

Loriette Kei interrupted you by bursting out laughing, and rolling off and onto your bed, covering his face in one hand while his tail swished to and fro. A flupoflim... he had gotten jealous over one of those nasty little buggers.

"Hey, hey... forgive me, dearly, I weren't laughing at you per say, truly." he was quick to pull you close when he saw you were about to leave the bed, still chuckling over your pouty expression before burying his face into your neck.

"My... what am I to do with you, dear Alice?"

Lorelei Kei ~

"Oh that's a nasty piece of work, I see..."

She was the first person you thought to go to regarding your bite. Your companion had forgotten to close the window all the way last night before falling asleep and a flupoflim had entered and bit you since it... apparently didn't like your dream or something of that sort? Whatever, honestly. You wanted it gone, it was itching like a motherfucker.

"Right? I can hardly even remember what I were fucking dreaming about! I swear, the one time I decide to indulge myself and this is what happens!" you complain, moving your hair out of the way to allow her to get a better look at the bite you had received for daring to dream.

It wasn't even fucking worth it either, the dream wasn't even worth noting enough to remember.

"I've a salve if you wish to apply that. I'm terribly sorry for the flupoflims, I know I've squashed a good few against my neck for such a transgression before." she offers with a small frown, pulling a small bottle from her dress pocket before she tips it turvy against her fingers and a small bit drips out.

"You're an absolute darling, Lorelei Kei. Honestly, I'd adore for you to do this for me, thank you kindly..." you sigh, shivering when you feel her fingers massaging the bite on your neck. "You made this yourself then?"

"Mm... yes, yes I did." she responds, feeling her lips curl up a little as she carefully sits down before you, and she makes sure the salve is spread evenly along the bite. "It's a simple mixture, really. My noveur told me the importance of not relying all on my strings to heal... though that was more so because the way my strings heal is a bit grotesque. Not that I care."

"Why did you create a salve if you don't care then?"

She doesn't respond for a moment, lifting her hand once the salve was applied and blowing gentle air to the area to help it dry a little better, making you gulp.

"Because you might think my healing ways are grotesque."

Nadia ~

"You can't ignore me forever." you tell her firmly, watching as she continues to work at her desk, writing a letter to her kingdom's form of government in her room.

"Nadia, this is childish."

"No it isn't." she says simply, standing up from her desk and grabbing a bowl of fruits she hadn't yet touched before she tosses it in front of you, the spinning bowl filling her dorm with an unpleasant sound as it, miraculously, doesn't begin multiplying by the dozens or growing bigger. Then again, that was also likely because she was wearing her gloves.

"Yes it is— you're even responding like a child." you tell her with a small frown, tilting the bowl towards you to look at its contents before settling on a berry that had nearly fallen out. "Had I committed a slight against you once more? Add onto mine list of many that you refuse to tell me? Look, I'm well aware that my beauty's been known for rendering others speechless, but—"

"I am the one acting childish. I would like to keep acting childish."

Oh, you didn't expect her to just outright admit it. You watch as she sits down about a cushion away from you. "What are you—"

"That mark on your neck," he mentions, nodding her head towards you, making you lift a hand up to what you knew she was talking about. "It's... disgusting. I don't want to look at it. I want to be upset as I refuse to look at it. You are making me upset."

"Nadia, this is a mere—"

"I know what it is," they interrupt you, biting their tongue before sighing as he looks away. "But... please, just don't say anything, or I may die of mortification. I'm usually much better at controlling my own emotions. But that... that thing on your neck— I know what it is, rationally, but even knowing this, just the sight of it, the implication of what it could be, I'm sick of it."

You stare at her a moment, your lips quirking up as you realize why she isn't looking at you. She isn't actually mad... what she really is makes you pop the berry in your mouth, giving you an excuse to shut up.

"... Please, get rid of it...?"

"... I will, so long as you help me."

Noré ~

What on earth had been getting into her these days...

She found herself at your beck and call much more earnestly than they first believed themself to be, first of all. This wasn't anything new, they had done this with anyone and everyone that had passed by them that hallway.

What was getting to him now was that... thing, thing on your neck. It was terribly ugly. It didn't suit you. He would know what suits you and what doesn't, he's completely memorized the sort of style you adore so dearly.

He found himself glued to your side, hanging onto your every word as you speak, your hand repeatedly reaching up to rub at the spot he was eyeing and everytime you did, she felt the pit in her stomach grow wider and wider until it felt as though it would swallow her whole.

"Must you be so enamoured with whatever it is that has you recalling as you rub that?" it slips out of their mouth before they can even think to keep it inside. "You realize that I'm in your company, yes? How terribly rude of you to treat a ruler this way, I ought to try you for—"

"Treason?" you finish, shaking your head. You didn't believe him. Of course you didn't, they never gave you any reason to believe in his words, ever. "Alright, Mocking Turtle. Riddle me this—"

"I'm no hatter, but go on and riddle me what." he responds blandly, hands clenched around her own wrists behind their own back. "Riddle me how?"

"Lethargic eyes and weary bones, they try to rest yet nature would oppose," you reach up to rub the area again. "A draft to fill, the moon to shine, whatever could float decides offense to a dream of mine. Whatever does it do?"

"... Indeed, whatever does it do?"

"It bites you." you respond with a small groan. "Fucking windows and dormmates and... ugh, it's absolutely killing me."

"Oh, no, I don't believe it so." Noré responds from beside you. "For if it were truly killing you, you'd be but flesh and bone."

"You jest, but it truly feels as though the ichor were being—" you cut yourself off as you look to them again, the way they smile feels a bit more relaxed than before. "And what's suddenly got you in such a good mood?"

He blinks at your words, his eyes no longer smiling, though his lips stretch upwards a bit more. "Indeed, whatever does?" they hum, keeping step with you and linking your arms together, tugging you closer to their side as they do.

"Whatever, I suppose you've riddled me true."

#sol kha ne lubri #if #inbox asks #ask response #anon #ambrose hendrix #nadia #noré #loriette kei #lorelei kei #dottie hendrix

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norgeant · 3 days

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Thinking about indie music artist logan and drummer in big well known band lando

Yapping outside of the tags this time 😼:

- Lando watches from back stage because too many people would recognise him at the random ass music gig Logan got

- Logan refuses to get any explicit help from Lando because even though he could get sponsored/funded millions, it just wouldn't be right

- Logan plays the guitar (acoustic or electric?) and a little bit of the keyboard

- Logan doesn't usually sing in his own songs because he's too embarrassed, Lando thinks his voice is beautiful

- Logan collabs often with other small music artists because he needs a someone to sing the lyrics

- would Lando take Logan on his tours and stuff? Busy schedules so maybe they're long distance half the time too? Maybe Lando can't make it to a lot of Logan's gigs but when he does Logan becomes so much more confident

- Ugh idk who to have in Lando's band! Like, it's a got to be a rock band or something right? So maybe Daniel? Maybe maybe Max (it's just gonna end up being all of Lando's friends fr 😭)

- I'm debating whether I like the idea of norgeant being a secret relationship type thing, like obviously the public doesn't know but what if Lando's band mates don't know either??

- ^ bc if the band mates know then when Logan is at a concert/show, he'd be back stage or vip, but if they didn't know (or Logan wanted to be treated like a regular fan like everyone else) then he would be in the crowd and Lando would notice or try and find him in the sea of ppl

- there's a handful of Logan fans that swear they saw norgeant together and are a mixture of confused, amazed and shocked by it

- Guys I forgot the band needs a band name plus Lando isn't the "leader" I overthought and yet didn't think enough at the same time

- I can't just say fuck it and name it McLaren, Red Bull etc. its gotta be good! And obviously it's got to be a reference to something f1/quote/meme related because underneath it all I'm still a basic bitch

- okay throwback to when Jenson asked for Daniel's autograph , that with norgeant! Lando at the meet and greets and shit and Logan is in line and when he gets to the front they have this subtle (*cough* not subtle at all but ppl just assume it's the average flirty/passive aggressive fan *cough*) flirty/inside joke banter:

"Are you free tonight...?" ;)

"Unlucky, mate, going to some fancy restaurant with this random person"

"Wow this random person must be lucky to have a boyfriend as "nice" as you"

"Yeah, well, they'll be lucky enough to get dessert as long as they don't order any seafood"

"Do you want a good luck kiss with that wish?" :3

🦅 RAHHHHH THE NORGEANT BRAINROT ‼️

I WILL be back to edit this each time I think of smth new to add and I'll even put little dates whenever I update bc thats on being organised for once 🗣️🗣️🗣️

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aladaylessecondblog · 3 days

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Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 13

Author's Note: Tw for some blood. Jiub is a troll. For those looking for canon Sotha Sil behavior, boy are YOU gonna be disappointed

This one snuck up on me

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

One week, then two.

Jiub found his Venmo occasionally pinging with small amounts from Sadara, who sent apology notes in each one. Honestly, he didn't blame her, but he wouldn't say no to to the extra money. He turned her room into another grow spot and it was doing okay, but still not to the level that having her there to contribute to rent had.

She hadn't come back, but there hadn't been much for her to come back for. A dresser, a bed. Those handful of receipts from Suran in the trash can he still hadn't emptied.

The Waffle House was doing a little worse for her absence, at least in his opinion.

The new waitress was an ashlander, and icily polite to those with corprus. Maybe they weren't the best people, but their money spent like anyone else's, and he couldn't figure out why all of a sudden NOW Nibani would want to piss them off by instructing new employees to act like this. It had driven off a few of them, or at least he thought so - it was hard to tell some of the ash ghouls apart from one another.

A few of the ash creatures had asked where Sadara was. The new waitress didn't know; neither did Nibani, whose answer was, "She no longer works here."

Jiub kept silent; he sure as hell wasn't talking. Sadara had sent him a Discord message (she'd outright deleted Morrotwitter) asking him to not tell anyone where she was, and he'd kept to it.

She didn't hadn't added any specifics about what exactly had happened on her little trip to Red Mountain. He'd asked a second time and she replied, 'Nothing we're not used to hearing.'

For a few days after that she sent random pictures of gnarly wounds from fighting cliffracers and other wildlife, and then of the scars once she healed up. There were also a few pics of cliffracers being turned on a spit over a fire, and a little 'wish you were here this thing tasted great' message a couple days in row.

Then there started being images of the inside of some cave along the coast near Tel Fyr.

The Fyrs are paying me 200 gold a week for blood and plasma, apparently I'm RH null blood type. it's special or something. and being immune to corprus makes them want it too, so. Not doing too bad.

Sounds great. What's up with the cave?

Oh, it's near Tel Fyr. Easy access. There's some khajiit and argonians here too, cave's big enough to share, so we do.

How do you share a cave?

We just have bedrolls in different areas. I feel like I got the biggest spot because it used to be a slave pen and they don't want to sleep over here ever again. It's not that bad. We've even got pets.

the fuck kind of pets do you have over there? lost scribs?

couple of fat slaughterfish we feed fish and scraps to. One we call Betty White and the other we call Wilson. They try to bite us but honestly they're big enough it's hard for them to move fast enough for it. So they'll mainly just hiss and make noise until they get food.

"Excuse me, cook? Are you paying any attention to the food at all, or are you destroying my eggs on purpose?"

"Your eggs are fine," Jiub replied, tucking his phone away. The customer in question had come in a few times, and was - well, honestly, such a stick in the mud it was fun to tease him. He was very particular about his food, wanted his waffles turn an even number of times...so Jiub always made sure not to do that.

Sotha Sil himself. Not all that impressive, at least not to Jiub. He said he came there because the sound of the blight winds was relaxing, and when he needed relative silence this was a good place to have it.

And his fried eggs were always just slightly runny.

"Here, I'll redo 'em if you want, I was hungry anyway."

He handed a newly finished plate of waffles to the new waitress, who took them to another ashlander in the corner.

"Do you have no pride at all in your work?"

"I'm cooking eggs and waffles for 10 septims an hour, there is no pride in this work," Jiub replied with a shrug.

"You are an insubordinate imp--no. No, I will waste no more time on your shenanigans. This is not what I am here for. Just cook the food." Sotha Sil huffed, and turned back to the laptop in front of him.

It was a far cry from the nigh-emotionless construct Jiub had heard Sotha Sil described as. Something, it seemed, had set the man on edge...he'd asked a couple people if something had happened to set Sotha Sil off what he was usually like. Most people couldn't see such little things, little signs of being potentially angry, or annoyed, or any number of similar things. But due to long experience, Jiub was a master at seeing it.

He'd reached a point in his life where he was looking to get humbled again. His success with Almalexia had made him feel almost bored - if he could off her so easily (however temporarily it lasted), really, how much farther was there to go? Maybe Sotha Sil would be different. Maybe he'd be tougher, somehow...

How little a thing would it take to push him over and make him screech?

He could already hear Sadara's voice chiding him for it. You little troll, you just want your ass kicked, don't you?

Well. Maybe he did.

The waitress went outside to handle the garbage, and so Jiub was the one to deliver the plated food. He glanced down at the laptop, and saw a familiar sight.

A Pokemon battle.

And more importantly...

"Superiorsil? So it's YOU! I should've guessed," Jiub set the food down and went over to clean the stove.

"What do you mean, you should've guessed?" Sotha Sil's voice had turned accusatory.

Jiub turned back, and gave a deep smirk as he extended his hand. "Jiuberjabber. How ya doin'?"

A pause.

A long, uncomfortable pause.

And then, Sotha Sil - master of the monotone, king of the cutting politeness, suzerain of stony looks - leaped over the counter and wrapped both hands around JIub's neck.

Both mer crashed to the ground and despite the pain and increasing lack of oxygen all Jiub could do was laugh.

"You idiot--pathetic--little WORM!" Sotha Sil was snarling, "You broke my perfect record!"

"It's just a game, man," Jiub struggled, trying to get one hand into his back pocket. Still the laughter persisted, even harder because he saw how much it infuriated the mer above him. Or maybe it was due to the choking. "Don't take it so seriously."

He managed to get his trusty box-cutter out, and took a few stabs in the area of his opponent's ribs. Jiub and Sotha Sil wrestled about in this fashion another few minutes, getting the latter's blood all over the floor.

"What happened to the calm magus, huh?" Jiub, still giddy from the lack of air, went on, finally getting to his feet and backing away, box-cutter at the ready. "Oh, wait, you are what the people need you to be, right? I've read the sermons."

"That wasn't IN the sermons you illiterate cretin," Sotha Sil stood, his pristine white robe now utterly ruined. The stab wounds were healed over quickly, and he looked ready to fight--

--and then suddenly bristled, snatched a to-go box, stuffed the food he'd left uneaten into it.

"Come back soon," Jiub, still in the mood to tease, energized by the fight, blew a capricious kiss at the furious mer before him.

Sotha Sil left, muttering under his breath.

Jiub then looked at the ashlander in the corner.

"You gonna tell the Temple about that?"

"Who the fuck would believe me?"

Grumbling, and thinking he was far too sober for this, Jiub moved off to the bathroom to snort some skooma. Nibani would be in within an hour, and he needed the blood cleaned up by then. The waitress, utterly horrified by what she had just witnessed, didn't look like she was going to be staying long enough to do the job.

#jiub ruined sils pokemon showdown record #sil hates that jiub was able to rile him so easily #fanfiction #morrowind #nerevarine #jiub #sotha sil #sotha sil x jiub #tes #tesblr #elder scrolls #odd couple

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