#delectable diaries

[delectableedifice]

I used to really only like one realm of interior design: modern. But the my partner came into my life and insisted that more traditional design styles were his preference. So we compromised. If I was going to be taking the lead on the overall design, then I should incorporate some of his preferences.

We both realized we felt a renewed sense of youth with each other and wanted to try and figure out how to incorporate a bunch of different, fun ideas into the house. It took time and a lot of daydreaming to figure out how to align all the different ideas and influences into a cohesive style; I want to have fun and achieve harmony at the same time.

The main design influences:

- Victorian

- Fantasy (Hobbit, Medieval, Gothic, Witch)

- Japanese

- Postmodern

- Cottagecore

This master plan is not meant to invoke awe at our wealth and grandiosity, but should instead feel unreal, as if imagined. Make believe. By incorporating some cheeky humor through artwork and small decor, we can break the illusion that this is some magical realm and instead just a very funny place to be.

Because at the end of the day, I want to enjoy life, and that, for me, means having fun.

#delectable diaries #interior design #plans #we really said why not everything? #melting pot of design

[devilishychubbyqueer]

I’m sure your bunnycunt will enjoy feeling good from the slightest of touches. Imagine how good it will feel to brush against something after you've made yourself all nice and sensitive. Let’s hope you are in private when that happens, cause I’m sure you’d love to just edge your brain away after that.

That aside. You’re doing really well. Let’s hope you get in lots of edges and ruins today as well. They feel really good, and you deserve to feel really good. You’re being such a good bunny after all. And good bunnies who don’t cum deserve some lovely edges. <3

I am currently sitting in public doing some homework at the college library but this ask is making it REAL tempting to go back to the dorm, oh my god-

#nsft #edging kink #edging challenge diary #i wanna edge to this post so bad oh my god??? #these ASKS yall they are DELECTABLE #Thank you for encouraging me!!! #youre so right i shouldnt cum♡♡♡ #and i dont have much to do today... #... screw it #back to the dorm it is-

[witchstone]

furious that i can't try cloudberries

#they look so...delectable #diary

[corneater3000]

there has been a ton of grief around this part of my life and the current things that are in transition but i have learned so much these past couple of months and leaned into myself/spirit to such a deeper level than i’ve even felt capable of accessing these past few years and i think when the dust settles i will look back on these days as the beginning of something huge and wonderful

#this new phase of my life where i have some s p a c e to cook up something delectable to share with this world >:) #i’m doing things i couldn’t have done even a month ago #i’m entering uncharted territory… with hope ! with curiosity! with the knowledge that whatever comes next will bring me closer to myself #and isn’t that the goal #okay i’m done ranting on tumblr dot com for tonight #i love using this like my diary i really just do

[toastsnaffler]

its 3aaammmm I am scarily dizzy rn...... experiencing extremely normal quantities of blood loss (<- very heavy period)

#good thing i woke up to change my pad bc if i stained the sheets well i cannot be fucked to wash them today #i am in. so much pain :'^) #refilling my hot water bottle and then back to bed i will gooo #goodnigjt again everyone kisses etc hope u have delectable dreams #.diaries

[rheya28]

Bloom Garden & Cafe ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Bloom Garden and Cafe offers a delightful escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Housed within a historic red brick building adorned with timeless elegance, the cafe boasts captivating skylights that bathe the space in natural light, creating an inviting ambiance throughout the day.

Whether you're savoring a freshly brewed cup of coffee, indulging in delectable pastries, or simply basking in the tranquility of the surroundings, our cafe and garden offer a haven of relaxation and rejuvenation

➽ Extra Notes:

● I built this last minute but It turned out so cute so I hope you all enjoy. I'm not quite done my main build, so I'm putting this out for now.

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ Speed Build Video

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 00:38 Speed Build 14:54 Photos

➽ Lot Details

Lot Name: Bloom Garden and Cafe Lot type: Cafe Lot size: 40x30 Location: Windenburg

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC List

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker, kiwisim4. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! Severinka ● Industriallight II [lamp C & D] Felix ● Chateau (all) ● Berlin pt [1] ● Colonial pt [3] ● Grove pt (all) ● London Interior ● Paris pt [2][3] ● Florence pt [4] TheClutterCat ● Dandy Diary Bathroom (wall scone) Harrie ● Klean pt [3] ● Shop the look pt [1][2] ● Spoon pt [2] ● Orjanic (all) Little Dica ● Rise & Grind (esspreso machine) Myshunosun ● Garden Stories (Patio lights) Peacemaker ● Kingston Dining (mirror) Pierisim ● Coldbrew ● Domaine Du Close pt [1] ● Mcm pt [1][2] ● Unfold ● Winter Garden pt [2] Charly Pancakes x Pierisim ● Precious Promises (Dining Chair) Softerhaze ● in bloom Syboullete ● Fency (statues) ● Inconstruction (Stake fence) Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Area (coffee grinder)

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__ ● Reference: x

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #thesims #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 cc #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 builds #builds #build #the sims 4 screenies #the sims 4 cc build #windenburg build #simblr #sims 4 interior

[justburningdaylight]

Icarus and the Sun | S.H.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Summary: Reader's in love with her best friend. Considering she can’t tell him about this particular secret, she instead entrusts it to her diary, neglecting to remember Steve’s old habit of reading said diary.

Warnings: fluff (finally!), best friends to lovers, a little bit of kissing, multiple references to the greek myth about icarus and daedalus, glorification of bob dylan, spoiler free!

Word count: 3.4k

a/n: hi besties ! sorry i’ve been quiet lately but vol.2 dropped so here’s a lil somethin’ i wrote just for you <3 it’s one of my veeeery favourite works so far. i’m a firm believer in best friends to lovers supremacy and i figured it was time i gave y’all something sugary sweet instead of the usual mountain of angst. let me know what you think ! p.s. asks are open, come chat with meee !

Certain as the crashing tide always rises and the conflagrant sun always sets, you’re positively resolute that the secret you’re so strenuously harboring will always remain just that; A secret.

It’s trivial, you think, arduous, to venture into the plethora of prominent memories you benevolently share with your best friend and attempt to pinpoint the precise genesis of your affections.

Would it be helpful to reminisce upon the exact juncture in which love became love?

Would it be helpful to identify when, in your mind, his eyes stopped being brown? When they instead transformed into the purest shade of delectably rich milk chocolate. When the sticky, syrupy sweet pools of golden honey began to hold such a brilliant tepid glow to them that the sun itself could have seemed dull in comparison; the world itself could have seemed dull in comparison.

Would it be helpful to establish the specific moment that his laughter was no longer a sound? When the aforementioned laughter transmogrified into a mellifluous, harmonious symphony. When no vinyl or cassette tape that you owned could compare to the melodic original composition of his euphonic joy.

Would it be helpful to remember the first time a friendly touch led way to an ever-hastening heartbeat? When the gentle grazing of his fingertips against your skin set a metaphorical wildfire to the surrounding area, leaving the searing warmth no choice but to take up semi-permanent residence within your body, the remaining smoke loosely floating its way through your airways and constricting your heart in a biting display of affection.

Would any of this prove helpful? Considering you’ve inadvertently managed to fool Steve into a smooth and blissful ignorance of these feelings, why should it be helpful to dwell on the origins of your tender yearning?

The verisimilitude of the situation is as follows; You’re desperately in love with your best friend and he’s none the wiser to it. This is precisely how it should always remain; A secret held as though it were an oath, forged in love and kept in fear. You’ve not a doubt in your convoluted mind that the revelation of your feelings would negatively alter the course of your friendship, which is simply not something you’d ever be willing to risk.

But it’s been tearing you apart. The sheer density of the secret weighing you down is nearly unbearable and you need to emit your innermost sentiments before the tear gives way and splits you in two; One half of you finally free from carrying around the burden of unrequited love, whilst the other wanders around aimlessly, aching on the precipice of being demolished from the unwavering mass of her devotion.

For obvious reasons you find yourself unable to relinquish this information to Steve, the only person you would ordinarily trust with a secret so immense. Taking the current circumstances into account, you’re left with only one viable option to break your internal confidentiality.

Your diary.

The juvenile undertones of writing to your diary about this situation are not lost upon you, but desperate times call for the invocation of desperate measures. 

You don’t fight the triumphant simper that overtakes your lips when you manage to skillfully locate the well-worn diary, comfortably wedged on the bottom shelf between the sturdy wood of your trusty bookcase and your near-deteriorated copy of Little Women.

You’re instantly regretting the gentle blow of air you gave in an attempt to efface the wispy layer of dust coating the cover, your throat constricting as you breathe in the primitive particles. It’s been longer than you thought, you suppose, since you last publicized your internal conflicts in the pages of your diary.

Here goes nothing.

“-And it’s like, yeah, I get it, you wanna watch Top Gun, so does every other teenage girl on earth, that’s why we don’t have it right now!” Steve sibilates exasperatedly, tumbling jauntily onto your bed and landing on his back in the space beside you.

“I don’t really get the whole Tom Cruise thing,” You start, referencing the noticeable crush of whichever teen-aged girl it is that’s gotten under Steve’s skin at the video store today, “If we’re talking heartthrobs, he’s not coming anywhere near Rob Lowe.”

“Wha- Rob Lowe? Seriously? C’mon (y/n), did you even watch About Last Night? The best thing about that movie was Seger on the soundtrack.” Steve retorts, turning on his side to face you directly.

You make the intrepid decision of cultivating direct eye contact, instantly filling your insides to the brim with equal parts gratitude and regret.

His eyes hold all the warmth in the world, and you know this for a fact because the sun itself is resting contentedly inside of them. The longer you look, the more fervently the warmth spreads through you, and yet you can’t resist it. You find yourself no different from Icarus, flying ever-closer to the sun solely to bask in its warmth. And just like Icarus, you crave the proximity, consequences be damned. It was the death of him and you’re sure it’ll be the root of your own demise, but at this very moment you can’t find it within yourself to descend the smallest of distances, not even as you feel the wax starting to melt the feathers from your own back, dripping down carelessly into the sea below, you’ve simply no sense to heed Daedalus’s warning. This is the end, you think, and what a seraphic way to die.

“(y/n)? Did you hear me? ‘Cause usually you’d be fighting me to the death right now or something.”

“Yeah- Yeah I heard you, I just- I thought you needed a long silence to really soak in the idiocy of your words. You know, let it marinate a little.” You snap out of your reverie, grateful there’s no residual burn from your trip to the sun.

“Oh I’m marinating like a big juicy steak right now,” He scrunches his nose in a darling display of antipathy, a visible opposition to your words, “I just don’t get what you see in that guy.” There’s a certain deflation laced amongst his words as the sentence dies off. He wants to say more, he longs to say more, but at the potential of anything interfering with your friendship, he bites his tongue instead.

“Whatever. And to think I never said anything about that Jane Fonda poster you used to have hanging in your room.” You state with a deadpan delivery, quickly erupting into a fit of laughter once you catch sight of Steve’s mouth gaping like a fish, a playful expression of mock betrayal painting itself like a masterpiece upon his heavenly features.

It’s then that he regrets holding it in, with the canorous sound of your laughter floating impeccably through the air, with the empyrean sight of your face delicately scrunched up in amusement, with your hand right within perfect holding distance, practically begging to be intertwined with his own, it’s then that he wants to blurt it out. Hey (y/n), did you know that I’m wildly in love with you? Hope this doesn’t mess with the friendship we’ve had since we were six, he thinks, yeah that won’t backfire at all.

Your laughter gently subsides and you’re all too aware of Steve’s eyes on you as you cast your gaze upon the ceiling, as desperate as you are to bore your eyes into his own once again, you still feel the tepid remnants of your previous vacation to the sun inside, and you’re not ready to head back into the miraculously searing warmth just yet.

They take their time, his eyes, exploring each carefully crafted curve and bend delicately lining the gentle expanse of your face. They stop and ponder at how such true beauty can emanate from behind your eyes, even when they’re not directed at him.

There’s a shine to them, he notes. A glimmer of the moon he’s almost certain is carefully encased behind the irises of your eyes. When they look at him, really look at him, he can see the glisten of that fractured moonlight, gently casting its glow upon a quiet dark night. When they sparkle after one of his particularly atrocious jokes, he sees a shooting star soaring swiftly through the sky, illuminated by the moon aside it, he can almost feel it falling from your eyes and landing gently inside the confines of his own heart where it’s sure to thrive, fuelled by his admiration of it, fuelled by his admiration of you.

The modulation of your ringing doorbell snaps the two of you from your thoughts, leaving you both vexatiously unaware of how similar the meanings of those thoughts are.

“Not it!” You call, your voice combining with Steve’s.

“Noes goes!” Steve states, hurriedly placing his finger to the tip of his nose, not attempting to hide the confident and optimistic smile resting upon his tender pink lips.

“Ugh, no fair. You’re the one who wanted to order pizza in the first place! I have a perfectly good frozen one that could’ve been in our stomachs by now.” You gripe, reluctantly pulling yourself up from your bed and away from the ever-present warmth of your best friend.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m gonna let you near an oven again. I still have nightmares about the last ‘pizza’ you cooked for me. No thanks.” He throws up air quotes around the word pizza, as if you had intentionally burnt the thing to an unrecognizable crisp. He’s the one who still ate it.

“Alright, fine. Just trying to offer you a nice home-cooked meal and this is the kind of thanks I get.” You sigh, placing a hand above your heart to further dramatize your dialogue.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he repositions himself on the bed, now laying his head on your pillow. You almost whisper an unintelligible thank you to the universe as you’re now certain your pillow will carry the delectable scent of Steve’s shampoo.

You’d likely have retracted those unspoken words of gratitude if you didn’t turn out of the room and head for the door so quickly. Perhaps if you waited just a moment more, you would have seen the somehow charming look of physical discomfort on Steve’s face as he feels a rigid protrusion from underneath your typically plush pillow.

He lifts his head, perplexed. After sliding his hand beneath the pillow, his nimble fingers form a grip on the source of his discomfort. He can’t repress the smile that graciously overtakes his lips as he pulls it out and discerns what it is.

Your diary.

He hasn’t seen the thing in ages, you had stopped writing in it years ago. His smile grows as he vividly remembers an excerpt from the time he’d read it in seventh grade, Bob Dylan is the greatest songwriter alive, and so incredibly handsome too… He teased you about it for months, it even led you to arguing over which of his albums is the best, a disagreement the two of you haven’t settled to this day. You, being of sound mind, are aware that Blonde on Blonde is one of the greatest albums ever written, but Steve swears it doesn’t top Highway 61 Revisited.

He lets out a diminutive snicker at the memory and decides he’s going to find that page and dredge up the old jokes he used to not-so gallantly taunt you with.

His lithe fingers move quickly and precisely as he gently unwraps the twine enveloping the book closed. There’s still a pen inside, acting as a bookmark. Maybe she had the same idea, he smiled to himself as he opened the diary to the marked page, his eyes wandering toward the first sentence scrawled across the slightly curled up piece of paper.

It’s hopeless to feel this way, and even more conceivably lame to be writing about it in a diary like a middle-schooler, but I have to get it out somehow and it’s not like I can tell Steve

Can’t tell Steve what? He thinks, eyebrows creasing together in confusion, we tell each other everything. Well, almost everything. Another thought occurs to your best friend, should I be reading this? But then he remembers that you likely haven’t touched the book in years, this is probably something you’ve long since forgotten about, just more fuel for the jokes he’s sure to aim your way. So he reads on.

I mean how would that conversation even go? “Hi Steve, I know you only see me as a friend considering we’ve been that to each other for over half our lives, but did you know that I’m completely in love with you? Oh you didn’t? Cool, well I’ll just see you later I guess” I don’t even know why I wrote that because I’m getting nauseous just thinking about it.

There’s no point in telling him anyway, he’d never feel the same way. And then I would ruin our friendship. Oh god I don’t even want to think about that. Why would I say that? This whole thing was entirely unhelpful. Another great idea (y/n)! So, bye I guess? Do you write that in a diary?

A quick glance at the date scribbled across the top of the page informs Steve that this was written only yesterday.

There should be a word for what Steve is feeling right now, a word to describe the complete and utter happiness, bewilderment, and relief coursing through his body. You loved him? You loved him? He can’t count on both hands how many times he’s backed out of telling you how he feels, ruled by the fear that his affections could be unrequited. Come to find out you feel the same way in all regards. There should be a word for what he’s feeling, but all he can think about is how grateful he is for the existence of words in general; For words, your words, are how he found out that you love him.

He’s donning a splendid, blinding smile. He feels as though it’s splitting his face in two, but he couldn’t subdue it if he tried. He’s aware that there’s a conversation to be had about privacy and personal boundaries but his grin just keeps growing, it’s nearly touching his ears when you finally return to your room, plates in your grip as you simultaneously and near-unsuccessfully attempt to juggle two glasses of water in your hands.

“Ummm. Little help? Please?” You murmur confusedly, taking in the paradisiacal sight of Steve’s broad smile.

“What? Oh-Uh yeah, yeah I gotcha.” He speedily grabs a plate and a glass from your hands, the gentle brush of his fingertips against your hand causing a trail of goosebumps to form along your flesh.

“What are you smilin’ about? You’re watching one of those Fonda aerobics tapes in your mind, aren’t you? Little perv.” You’re joking, but as heavenly as the view is, you’re questioning the sincere origins of his smile.

“Huh? No actually, I was- I was just thinkin’ about your diary. You remember this?” He’s still smiling that blissful smile as he holds up the aforementioned diary, wholly unaware of the dread that’s now coursing throughout your body.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Please tell me he didn’t read it. Please, please, please.

“Y-yeah, mmhmm, yep. ‘Course I remember the ‘ol girl,” What are you saying right now? “Spent many a night wishing I never wrote about Bob Dylan on the cover of Street Legal,” You attempt a giggle but it verbalizes more as a nervous wince, “Definitely got your fair share of torture material out of that thing, didn’t you?” You end off with a shaky smile, disastrously attempting to quell the nerves soaring through your veins like a jet plane.

“Yeah. Yeah I did.” He states with that same smile, walking closer to you and discarding the plate and glass you’ve been clinging onto for dear life, placing them swiftly on your nightstand alongside his own. “Thought it would be fun to do a dramatic reading tonight, y’know? Bring some attention back to your love for old Bobby,” He’s still smiling as he takes another small step toward you, he’s still smiling and you think you’re going to pass out because you’re almost positive that he’s seen it, “I was gonna spend some time on it too, y’know? Really craft out my jokes.” He takes one final step toward you, and though every bone in your body is screaming for you to look away, you chance a look into his eyes once more.

You’re surprised by the sheer admiration you find inside them, dancing in perfect rhythm alongside the sun. “But then I read somethin’ else.” His voice is lower now, a quiet harmony of earnest elation and disbelief, almost as though he’s the one who can’t believe this is all happening. “I read somethin’ else and I need to know that it’s real. That you really mean what you wrote,” He’s almost whispering as he finishes his final sentence, bringing up a gentle hand and resting it tenderly on your cheek, his thumb grazing back and forth slowly as he gazes into your eyes, “Please tell me that you mean it.”

You can almost hear Daedalus now; See? It didn’t work out for you either and you had Icarus as an example! Because you did fly too close to the sun. The wax melted, trickling away like warm water, and the feathers followed suit, leaving you too close to the sun with no means of transportation. But you didn’t plunge into the hungry sea below. You didn’t meet a salty oceanic demise, because you had a paramount advantage over Icarus; The sun rose for you.

Suck it, Icarus.

It took you a moment, to recapture the breath Steve knocked out of your lungs with his lighthearted monologue, to think of anything besides the perfect sensation of his skin resting against your own, his thumb still rubbing indistinguishable shapes onto your cheek. When you belatedly muster up the courage to respond, you’re already smiling, “I’ve never meant anything more in my whole life.” 

That’s all Steve needed to hear, that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear. His eyes flicker down to your lips and back up to your own eyes, a silent request to stop talking about it and instead show each other just how desperately you both want this. You barely have time to nod your head before his lips are on your own.

There’s no word deserving enough to describe the way you feel when his lips brush delicately against your own, gentle and precarious, as though he’s expecting you to pull away, you don’t. You move in closer to him, deepening the kiss ardently as you place your arms around his neck, gingerly weaving your fingers through the hairs resting against the nape of his neck. He kisses you back fervently, his hands having found a new home on your waist, letting out a deeply delectable hum of bliss when you give a light tug to the tresses of his hair.

“God, I love you so much (y/n).” Steve murmurs against your lips, only pulling away long enough to utter the words before bringing your lips back to his own.

When you finally make the mutual decision to come up for air, you’re tenderly resting your forehead against Steve’s own, content to live in this moment for as long as humanly possible.

“I love you Steve. You probably figured that out by now but just thought I’d tell you, you know, in case you can’t read.”

“Oh yeah? Thanks, wouldn’t wanna let my illiteracy stand between me and my girl.” His girl? Guess the whole diary thing actually was a great idea.

“You know that was, like, a complete invasion of my privacy, right? Reading my diary? It wasn’t cool in seventh grade and it’s not cool now! Well- Actually, I guess it is kinda cool just this once ‘cause we- Just, don’t do it again, okay? I mean it.” You’re giving Steve your best attempt at a stern tone but you’re aware of the bright smiles covering both of your faces during this speech.

“Got it, no more diary reading. Hey, just to be clear, do you maybe think I’m so incredibly handsome?” He jokingly references your seventh grade diary entry once again with a ravishing smile, leading you to internally debate whether you should throttle him or kiss his delicate lips. You choose the latter, again.

“At the risk of slandering a legend, Dylan’s got nothin’ on you.”

“Woah! Big talk. I must be special.”

“Rob Lowe on the other hand…”

“Ha Ha,” 

“That was a joke right? I’m better than Rob Lowe?”

“Sure Steve.”

Certain as the crashing tide always rises and the conflagrant sun always sets, you’re positively relieved that the secret you’ve been so strenuously harboring is no longer a secret, but is instead the genesis of something new entirely.

You flew too close to the sun and lived to tell the tale.

#stranger things #steve harrington x reader

[confessmau]

I find it lowkey weird quite some people make mystreet Garroth fat but not diaries Garroth

I have seen quite a few people talk about doing that

And I get they can have their reasoning. For example, because of a lack of food resources. Or something along those lines.

But regardless of that, if you just look at it in theory. Making the more serious and smart counterpart of a character just musculair without much fat while making the comedic relief counterpart of said character the fat one. Feels odd to me, even if not intended.

If falls into what we often see in movies and shows; the fat characters being comedic relief and stupid, and not taken seriously.

They can have their reasoning, it's fine. I am just stating my point of view on it.

ironically, mcd garroth does have more fat compared to his mys counterpart (or at the very least he doesn't have visible dehydration abs). we only ever get to see mcd garroth shirtless in the beach side stores, and at the time there were only two body types: extraordinarily low contrast yet defined abs and a more shaded version of levin's lil baby tummy.

extraordinarily low contrast yet defined abs (aka the squipples fit) was the default for most of the male characters (i think. i had to turn the contrast all the way up so i could actually see those delectably meaty squipples). dante, brendan, zane, brian, and the o'khasis guards all featured the squipple build.

however, both of aph's main guards were given the levin build. i always assumed it was a musclechub moment since they are...like....guards.

#note that i did not include a picture of laurance because laurance doesn't deserve free clout #aphmau #aphblr #confessions #mystreet #minecraft diaries #aphverse #aphmau laurance #garroth ro'meave #aphmau garroth #aphmau dante #fat representation #fatphobia #plus garroth grew up wealthy it makes more sense for him to be a bigger guy compared to the rest of the citizens of birdshit

[cocotierz]

A catalog of all my completed and ongoing fics. These are all explicit, please check ratings and tags.

reylo

oneshots

all the right reasons

Rey Palpatine has a big crush on Professor Solo. When she leaves her diary behind after wasting his office hour, Ben sees just how much he has to teach her.

baby blues

Rey becomes pregnant after a one-night stand. Ben decides to do the honourable thing.

rain on me

The state of California has put restrictions on water usage per household due to drought but Rey’s roommate Ben has a solution. What’s some platonic co-showering between friends?

signals crossing

It's a lot easier to accidentally chrome cast porn to your neighbours TV than one would like

loving you is cherry pie

Rey Niima knows for a fact her pies are nothing short of delectable. So why is it that neighboring criminal defense attorney and resident asshole Ben Solo keeps ordering slices just to pick at it without taking so much as a bite?

don't let it stop

Ben and Rey are no strangers to competition, so when Ben proposes they see who can resist the other for the longest, they both get extremely creative to make the other break.

multichapter - completed

sign of the times

Fifteen-year-old Rey Niima can’t stand her neighbour Ben Solo. So you can imagine her surprise when she wakes up fifteen years in the future in bed with him — especially when he is calling himself her husband.

delivered

The guy Rey hooked up with at that frat party is turning out to be weird, pushy, with no respect for boundaries. And yet…

ask for more

Rey is single and wants Ben as her Alpha. Ben is hung up on some nameless Omega. They make a mutually beneficial and strictly platonic arrangement.

talk to me boy

In which Rey is a romance author, Ben is her editor, and Rey needs help with a sex scene.

multichapter - wip

queen of disaster

Crown Princess Regina and First Son of the United States Benjamin Solo hate each other. Fate, it seems, has other plans.

once upon a dream

Rey and her virgin sisters live and dance by the lakes, giving offerings to the gods. That is until the demon prince Kylo Ren takes a liking to her and steals her away to the underworld, to be his wife.

cool about it

Rey treats her dms with a list actor Ben Solo like a diary of sorts, sending him rants, memes, nudes, and recipes. It’s not like he’ll ever see it…right?

playing house

Rey Niima became an au pair in order to sightsee and improve her French. She did not become an au pair to pine after her brooding host and grow attached to his adorable daughter.

series

loser ben

drive through

Sixteen-year-old Ben Solo isn't used to pretty, kind of scary girls climbing on top of him and taking what they want - that is until he meets Rey.

video games

Rey really wants the snail Squishmallow at the arcade. She also really wants to suck her boyfriends cock.

migwen

oneshots

if you're seeking heaven (then you want to come and get it)

The girl next door is loud and arrogant and only a couple months into legal territory. Miguel shouldn’t be wanting to fuck her like some starved old man.

#reylo #reylo ao3 #reylo fanfic #masterlist #fanfic matserlist #reylo smut #kylo ren #ben solo #ben x rey #rey of jakku #rey niima #rey star wars #migwen #miguel o'hara #gwen stacy #ghost fang #smut #cocotierz

[goldenandhappy]

ONE PIECE 1072 SLAPS👏 HARD👏

This is the best chapter I’ve read in a while ! And that’s a feat because Egghead has been fantastic ! 

Spoilers under the cut. I might or might not have commented every panel.

> I am a sucker for narrative intros ! I am a sucker for narrative intros ESPECIALLY if they are extracted from a journal or diary.  And this narrative intro is so full of emotions ! Good for you Vegapunk ! Go rock that science !

> It is ironic that MADS is called “Laboratory of Peace” when the previous page was basically this:

> The page displays each of the mad scientist with his preferred field of study.

> I doubt Vegapunk knew about what was going down in his “Lab of Peace”; he did hate what Ceasar did in Punk Hazard. So they probably hid it well or made it sound “for the better good and the advancement of science” like for the DFs reproduction. And it’s not like their founds were lacking : Du Feld kept on pumping money in because weapons made him good money.

> And it’s crazy how much info Oda can drop in a single panel because this one has every mad scientist with his preferred field in hand: Ceaser with the smile fruit, Queen with the chemical weapons, and Judge with the spear that ultimately became his weapon of choice. It even has the little yellow tube and all. 

Picture from OP PIRATE WARRIORS 4.

> Then Bonney being a little shit and Vegapunk being a worried grandpa. Cute.

> This Bonney form reminds me of Luffy in his Nika form. It’s both funny and interesting because Bonney vibes well with Luffy and I like to think that they arrived to the same conclusions about what they should do with their fruits.

> Excuse me ??? This is too cute ???? I like that bonney is a strong powerful pirate but her power is still girly and cute ! Look at the cute stars ! And there’s a heart ! And look at Vegapunk he’s such a cute baby !!!

> I bet that Oda loves drawing Bonney, because every panel she’s in, she looks gorgeous.

> Ah yes, the classic juxtaposition of dramatic dialogue with a dramatic scene relating to that dialogue. :’)

> You can actually see how much Vegapunk cares for Kuma here. But still, very valid reaction from Bonney. You go girl !

> Vegapunk and Bonney are both growing on me more and more each chapter.

> I stared at those 2 panels for a good 30 seconds. I can’t even describe how they made me feel.  

> Because of course... Because obviously... Obviously Kuma pushed out his own memories... This was so obvious and no one ever considered it. God fucking dammit Oda.

> I am still not sure about the origin of DFs. Maybe they are magical, maybe they are man made. But this dialog is very important because we might not understand how things happen, but we can study how they affect the world around them. That’s a cornerstone of science and i’m so happy with how it’s depicted.

Also:

> The greek alphabet is canon.

And

> World reknown scientist DR VEGAPUNK needs to draw a small circuit with coil and capacitator to remember his electro-magnetism rules. Can’t blame him.

> Oh Brook is in a shirt, that’s cute ! Keep up the theme of the island peeps ! 

> Kaku awakened his giraffe fruit ?? How ?? (Theory time: I’m betting it’s related to the nature of the fruit. Once you reach a certain level in power and creativity, you can awaken your fruit. And the wilder the strength it represents, the harder it gets. But if you’re like... a giraffe, that should be easier than a leopard.)

> Look mate, as long as the crew and VP’s Brain are safe, this is meaningless. But yeah sure have your fun destroying things !

> I am delecting myself with the taste of Stussy’s betrayal. This is a face a love seeing on Lucci. Hit him where it hurts <3

> And what a way to end a chapter. Vampire Stussy ? Or is she a succubus ? Hell yeah ! Of course she was the one Vegapunk called ! And of course she’s a clone ! Vegapunk mentionned that the Seraphim were the pinacle of all his experiences ! And they are CLONES ! So of course he cloned people !!! And the cover story from chapter 1070 ? That wasn’t Stussy ! That was Miss Buckingham ! 

Miss Buckingham, from the Rocks Pirates, WORKED WITH MADS!!!!

I can’t with this chapter anymore ! Thank you Oda !!!

#one piece #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #one piece 1072 #one piece 1072 spoilers #one piece chapter 1072 #stussy #rocks pirates #kuma the tyrant #barthelomeo kuma #kuma #Jewelry Bonney #one piece bonney #bonney #rob lucci #vegapunk #dr vegapunk #roronoa zoro #soul king brook #zoro #brook #oh and stussy was very familiar with the island #she might have even grown up there #and the conversation she had with du feld at Big mom's tea party ??? #Du Feld is unaware she's a clone #he thought he was talking to the Rock's pirate !!!! #holy shit #Stussy has been playing 5D Chess against half the world's most prominent figures #From Big mom to the WG to Morgan's to Du Feld #Holy shit !!!

[hpowellsmith]

Royal Affairs FAQ

I've added an FAQ section to the Royal Affairs developer diary/discussion forum thread for your delectation! It'll be updated on an ongoing basis so please do carry on sending your questions. If I spot any more trends or questions that get asked a lot I'll add them to the list!

#royal affairs #choice of games #interactive fiction #choicescript games #text games

[delectableedifice]

I've been doing a lot of thinking about how and why interior design became a special interest of mine.

It must have started in my childhood, growing up neurodivergent with a need for order and consistency, but being surrounded by chaos and clutter; my parents had way more kids and house than they could manage.

Then there's the aspect of it being a creative outlet that allows me to practice control over my surroundings and lifestyle, to have a space that is entirely practical and stylish. It gives me long-term projects that challenge my skills and knowledge and rewards me with lasting results, something I can share with people and feel proud of.

And of course, there is an exciting element of curation; not just renovating the base to be an aesthetic background to the furnishings and details, but finding the pieces of furniture and decor themselves and assembling them into a collective work of art. This satisfies my inner goblin.

I thought I would have done so much more with my living situations since moving out of my parents house, but I haven't lived anywhere for more than 1.5 years since then and it's been so hard to want to put in effort when my living situation is not set in stone. I've always just put up with whatever was there and hope that the basic shapes and colors were clean enough to tolerate.

And so I've never really had a space I felt truly and wholly in control of, ever.

That's probably a big reason why, ever since the offer on the house was accepted, I've been obsessing over my dreams, plans and ideas for the house, every moment, even dreaming about it.

I'm not comfortable with this level of obsession and find myself actively looking to escape from it. Before, these types of ideas were just pining and dreams, so I held them at a distance. Now I find myself frightened of how intensely I focus on them.

The wait till closing date will be rough.

This thing I have been waiting for and dreaming of my entire adult life is finally happening and it can't come soon enough.

#delectable diaries #ruminating #anecdote

[ammg-old2]

“The history of all coalitions is a tale of the reciprocal complaints of allies.” Thus said Winston Churchill, who knew whereof he spoke. This summer of discontent has been one punctuated by complaints: from Ukrainian officials desperate for weapons, and from Western diplomats and soldiers who think that the Ukrainians are ungrateful for the tanks, training, and other goods they have received.

Most of the Western sputtering occurred in and around last month’s NATO summit in Vilnius, Lithuania, through anonymous leaks and public grumbles. Indeed, according to one report, the U.S. administration was so miffed by Volodymyr Zelensky’s complaint about the slowness of the NATO accession process that some advocated watering down language about NATO membership for Kyiv. Withdrawing the word invitation from the communiqué would, in their view, be a suitable punishment for a mean tweet.

One gasps at the petulance on display here, as at otherwise staunch British Defense Minister Ben Wallace’s snap about Ukraine treating its Western suppliers as a kind of Amazon of weaponry.

Peevishness about allies is a common and understandable mood that all senior diplomats and national-security officials eventually experience. A monologue sooner or later goes on in their heads that sounds something like this:

I’m lucky if I get a decent night’s sleep once a week. I leave work before my kids are up and get back after they’re asleep, six and sometimes seven days a week. I stress eat and can’t take a vacation without being called back to the office. Meanwhile, everybody thinks that the [insert ally’s name] are a bunch of victims or heroes, when they are, in fact, manipulative, ungrateful little bastards who don’t have a clue what I am doing to save them from [name a rival official, nation, or department of government]. And their American sympathizers are a bunch of nasty dupes who are just as ignorant, but with fewer excuses.

The adult thing to do in such cases is to get in a workout, complain to one’s loving spouse, or commit these thoughts to a diary for the delectation of historians who will read too much into what are, in sober hindsight, mere tantrums. To mention them to the press, or, even worse, act upon them is unfair and irresponsible.

Such eruptions occur when officials let their irritations suppress their empathy. At the moment of peak whine, they forget what it means to have a fifth of your country occupied, or to know that a far bigger country is attempting, every night, to smash your power plants, blockade your ports, and destroy your crops. They are not holding in the forefront of their minds obliterated towns and mass graves. They do not know what it is to welcome back exchanged prisoners of war who have been castrated. Or to mourn old men and women murdered, or younger men and women tortured and raped. Or to worry frantically about thousands of children kidnapped. They forget that while a Western official’s sleep may be interrupted by a phone call or an alarm clock, a Ukrainian official’s sleep is more likely (and more often) interrupted by a siren or the crash of a missile slamming into an apartment block.

Ukrainian officials are thankful. Analysis of their speeches reveals plenty of expressions of gratitude. But they are also insistent and vociferous in their cries for help. They would be both inhuman and derelict in their duty if they were to be anything else. Hopefully, after a whiskey (or two) on the plane back to Washington or London, Western officials simmer down and return to some level of maturity in understanding their beleaguered ally.

Unfortunately, the impulse behind the whining can also manifest in subtler, but no less pernicious, forms. Much of the public discussion of Ukraine reveals a tendency to patronize that country and others that escaped Russian rule. As Toomas Ilves, a former president of Estonia, acidly observed, “When I was at university in the mid-1970s, no one referred to Germany as ‘the former Third Reich.’ And yet today, more than 30 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, we keep on being referred to as ‘former Soviet bloc countries.’” Tropes about Ukrainian corruption abound, not without reason—but one may also legitimately ask why so many members of Congress enter the House or Senate with modest means and leave as multimillionaires, or why the children of U.S. presidents make fortunes off foreign countries, or, for that matter, why building in New York City is so infernally expensive.

The latest, richest example of Western condescension came in a report by German military intelligence that complains that although the Ukrainians are good students in their training courses, they are not following Western doctrine and, worse, are promoting officers on the basis of combat experience rather than theoretical knowledge. Similar, if less cutting, views have leaked out of the Pentagon.

Criticism by the German military of any country’s combat performance may be taken with a grain of salt. After all, the Bundeswehr has not seen serious combat in nearly eight decades. In Afghanistan, Germany was notorious for having considerably fewer than 10 percent of its thousands of in-country troops outside the wire of its forward operating bases at any time. One might further observe that when, long ago, the German army did fight wars, it, too, tended to promote experienced and successful combat leaders, as wartime armies usually do.

American complaints about the pace of Ukraine’s counteroffensive and its failure to achieve rapid breakthroughs are similarly misplaced. The Ukrainians indeed received a diverse array of tanks and armored vehicles, but they have far less mine-clearing equipment than they need. They tried doing it our way—attempting to pierce dense Russian defenses and break out into open territory—and paid a price. After 10 days they decided to take a different approach, more careful and incremental, and better suited to their own capabilities (particularly their precision long-range weapons) and the challenge they faced. That is, by historical standards, fast adaptation. By contrast, the United States Army took a good four years to develop an operational approach to counterinsurgency in Iraq that yielded success in defeating the remnants of the Baathist regime and al-Qaeda-oriented terrorists.

A besetting sin of big militaries, particularly America’s, is to think that their way is either the best way or the only way. As a result of this assumption, the United States builds inferior, mirror-image militaries in smaller allies facing insurgency or external threat. These forces tend to fail because they are unsuited to their environment or simply lack the resources that the U.S. military possesses in plenty. The Vietnamese and, later, the Afghan armies are good examples of this tendency—and Washington’s postwar bad-mouthing of its slaughtered clients, rather than critical self-examination of what it set them up for, is reprehensible.

The Ukrainians are now fighting a slow, patient war in which they are dismantling Russian artillery, ammunition depots, and command posts without weapons such as American ATACMS and German Taurus missiles that would make this sensible approach faster and more effective. They know far more about fighting Russians than anyone in any Western military knows, and they are experiencing a combat environment that no Western military has encountered since World War II. Modesty, never an American strong suit, is in order.

One way to increase understanding among Ukraine’s friends would be to put substantial military legations in Kyiv. American colonels and generals do not have to go on patrols or storm tree lines, but they would benefit from continuous, in-country, face-to-face contact with their Ukrainian counterparts. They would be able to communicate realistic assessments of the fighting and of Ukrainian tactical and operational requirements. They would also convey to Ukraine a reassurance that videoconferences cannot, and perhaps bring a bit of humility to deliberations in Washington.

Such an effort entails risks, but that’s what soldiers sign up for. Maintaining a continuous physical presence in Ukraine with a high-level military mission, supplemented by frequent visits from the head of the U.S. European Command and other senior leaders, would be invaluable in making the judgments that could help Ukraine defeat Russia, regain its territory, and win this war. And winning, not whining, is what it’s all about.

#current events #politics #ukrainian politics #american politics #warfare #diplomacy #russo-ukrainian war #2022 russian invasion of ukraine #ukraine #usa

[turntwirlclick]

Lotte's Journal, Day 1

The words "Dear Diary" are written into the first line, stricken through and then thoroughly cut up into pieces with angry strokes of ink. "Reminder: No delete button!!"

"Due to unexpected developments in my latest scientific foray, I, Axiom Lotte, have deemed it the most rational to record my progress in a format untainted by the influence of Realmlink tech, lest I aggravate alarm the Higher-ups without cause. The situation is not quite as dire my first assessment would have had it. Interviews with the locals have elicited the following information: The target My charge is named Sage Berggarten, unemployed, age 25. He possesses no known family or friends, and as such, this world won't miss him for a while still." The word Whew! is placed down and emphasized at the end of this paragraph— the bored writer had taken to drawing squares and arrows onto it as a means of cathartic release during the creative process. "He was, according to my own infallible analysis of the interviewee's response pattern, a soul of pure Blue. This narrows my search down to a single neighboring world. No doubt a monumental search still, but nothing beyond my genius. Once the portal is calibrated, I will depart ASAP."

Letting go of the pen and slumping over the plastic chair she had stolen earlier from a hot dog stand, the psychopomp twists her left wrist with her hand. "Oww, this sucks... Do people really use these in underdeveloped worlds? What a pain.." The bright yellow color of her outfit contrasted with the boring grey of the environment, the lack of decorations on this perfect metal cube conveying the practicality of its sole inhabitant. The only notable features, besides the computer desk littered with Realmlink implements of all colors and shapes, are the equally boring spiral staircase on the corner and the massive circular structure on the wall opposite to the desk, a dimensional portal of sorts with a single button right down the middle.

"Well then, it's time to get started." The psychopomp places the diary, sized for small children and decorated with pictures of yellow ducklings, into her trusty satchel and casually strides up to the button, taking deep breathes and preparing for what is to come. She thinks of her destination, a world of untold mysteries where the gods are as incomprehensible as they are fickle, where mage kings and elven lords battle for supremacy over mana — a concept they themselves can barely explain. A world known to her as B-63193. She presses the button confidently. "Initiating leap of faith." The circle emits a bright white light and a swirling screen of plasma forms in the center. With nary a thought, Lotte leaps headfirst into the vortex, leaving behind nothing but stardust.

...

In a grassy hill overlooking a fruit farm, a single strawberry falls onto the head of a grey haired teen. He chuckles, picking it up and having a bite, sitting up against the small tree that keeps him company. "Hmm, fresh, but I prefer you like this~" With a flick of his hand, the moisture on the fruit coalesces into a floating sphere, which he flings away, munching on the delectable snack left behind. He had lived his entire life in the idyllic village of Autumn's Hill but showed immense promise as a sorcerer nonetheless, standing toe to toe with scholars twenty years his senior.

"Sage! Sage! You won't believe what just happened!" His younger sibling jogged up to him, stopping to breathe before explaining, hands on their knees still. "There's an archmage from the capital, and she requested for you by name!" His eyes widen at the mention of the word archmage and he jolts up like a soldier to a siren of war.

"Is anyone home?"

"Mom's there, she said someone had to entertain our guest."

"Right." Using magic to manifest a puddle of water on the ground, he adjusts his dull-colored peasant's attire with the help of the reflection. "I'm going right away. Thanks, Camellia."

#realmlink saga #writing #creative writing #original character

[alj4890]

Day 2: Wonder

Choices Red Carpet Diaries Appreciation Week 2022

(Thomas Hunt x OC) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries drabble

Song inspiration (because I can't think of a more peaceful holiday song than this one ❤️): Nat King Cole's The Christmas Song

Rating G for nothing but fluff.

@krsnlove @my-heart-beats-for-ya ​ @aworldoffandoms ​​ @flyawayboo ​​ @trappedinfanfiction ​​  @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @hopelessromantic1352 @tessa-liam @choicesrcd2022 @promptnonny

Masterlist

Trapped in Awe

As Thomas sat in his home's editing room, he could hear the not quite so muted steps and bustling going on in his home. His frown over a particular scene he was debating on cutting eases as he thinks of the cause for the disturbance.

It had been too long since he'd had Amanda here with him. After surprising her at The Royal Romance premiere a few weeks earlier, he'd been able to persuade her to stay with him while he finished filming. It was as if she'd been the good luck charm he needed to get through that unexpected ordeal. The last few scenes were shot without any new problems creeping in.

He'd finally been able to focus all his attention to his movie without being distracted with thoughts of missing his her.

Thomas wondered how that had happened. How could one woman have such power over him? He'd had numerous lovers in the past. Many were incendiary in the passion, leaving nothing but destruction and ashes of broken dreams in their wake.

Yet the passion he had for Amanda, though burning even more so than any other time, left him feeling at peace. Content. Happy.

He could just imagine what she was doing right now. With Christmas in a couple of days, she'd been in a mad rush to decorate his home. He could smell the scent of sugar cookies baking in his oven mixed with the delectable spices of the wassail she'd set on the stove.

He knew she was turning his once cold, empty house into a warm home, one filled with two people about to embark upon creating a family.

Whether or not their family consisted of just them or if one day there were children, Thomas knew deep down that he would never be able to go back to his former life of famed bachelor of Hollywood.

Flipping the projector off, he decided that he should stop work early today.

He opened up the door, pausing when he heard the faint sound of Nat King Cole's voice mixed with Amanda's as she sang along to The Christmas Song.

Thomas leaned against the door frame of his living room as he watched her hang ornaments upon the last Christmas tree on a lot they'd been able to find.

As she struggled to reach a branch at the top, he silently came up behind her.

"OH!" She stumbled back into his arms when he took the ornament from her.

He hung it while kissing her lips parted in surprise.

"Thank you." She turned in his arms, hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair as she kissed him a touch more heatedly again.

"I should have helped you decorate sooner if this is how you thank me." He teased.

"Wait until you see my response to helping me string lights." She playfully winked at him.

He chuckled while tugging her over to his sofa. Once upon it, the warmth he felt earlier grew stronger as she cuddled within his arms.

The peace over simply sitting with her and gazing upon their tree glowing in the dim room flooded over him once more.

"What do you think?" She tilted her head up, studying his profile.

"Hmm?" He met her gaze, a soft smile playing about his lips.

"About what I've done so far?" She prompted. "Do you like it?"

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, eyes closing at how right he felt in this moment. He knew deep down it was all because of Amanda. He would always be in awe over how she'd managed to be the one missing piece in his life, at how she now was at the very center of his world.

"It's perfect." Thomas captured her lips in another kiss. "Absolutely perfect."

#red carpet diaries appreciation week #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #choices rcd #rcd thomas hunt #rcd appreciation week #choices fic writers creations

[ruki--mukami]

What do you think about ‘The Vampire Diaries’ ? Whould Damon be your fav too ? He is hot ! I’d let him suck my blood. 😫🔥

"Based on the title alone, I can already tell it's a sham of an accurate Vampire portrayal. Take it from a real, live Vampire himself. So, I see it's this so-called Damon who caught your eye... How disappointing to fall for appearance only. Between him and I, the one who will suck your blood is none other than me. His fangs cannot do this."

Vehemently, two sharp ivories penetrated the thin adipose of your unmarred neck, a pleased groan escaping Ruki as he drank each delectable drop of the crimson life force cascading down his throat.

"What an absolute shame... Looking at other men when your master is right here. Disloyal livestock ought to be tamed."

#diabolik lovers #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #ask #react #diabolik lovers rp #sunturbogel #(( i... i don't know anything about the vampire diaries tbh HAHAHA ))