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#but that it did definitely implode
secondbeatsongs · 10 months
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suddenrundown · 2 years
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oh man i always forget moreau happens in season 3. you know what else happens in season 3? scheherazade. gone fishing. season 3 eliot has 99 problems and moreau may be most of those but hardison’s at least one of them. 
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running-in-the-dark · 2 months
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well it took a week but I finally got all the signatures I needed on that stupid document, and I've now sent it to the last person I had to send it to. soo. now I'm fully, completely done with uni. I should get my diploma soon. I'm not even excited, just relieved it's finally over lol
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lizzieraindrops · 6 months
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Stowaway (4700 words)
The Traveler has left The Last City. Overwhelmed and shutting down, Ikora ends up stowed away on Eris' jumpship when she takes off from the Tower hangar. Post-Season of the Seraph. Not central, but Eris is written as ace and autistic, Ikora as trans and adhd. They're getting a bit spicy but deliberately not sexy. Also, Ikora is a walking emotional dysfunction of a woman.
Eris did not acknowledge the Light-shrouded figure sheltering in the back of her ship's cabin. If it had the vague shape of a crouching Warlock, veiled in Void that tingled like mint at the edges of her paracausal awareness, she paid it little mind. Its self-contained vortex of absence was entirely reflexive, focused only inward in oblivious contemplation. It was no threat. 
In any case, anything that could possibly consider Eris' somber domain a refuge was welcome in it.
In the silence, Eris set about preparing the jumpship for takeoff from the Tower hangar. She did so slowly, in case her mutually ignored visitor was going to disembark. But they didn't. If anything, the concentration of cloaking Void deepened. Her ears popped lightly with the minute pressure change.
The casual impulse to hum to herself out loud startled Eris back into silence. Behind her lips, absent murmurings of her route and destination gathered, waiting to be soft spoken. "Hmm," was all she said. She was long out of the practice of company, had been since the Pit. Much less was she given to these kinds of social mutterings that were more to be heard than to convey worded information. Alone, she much preferred her introspection to take written form.
It had been a long time since she had traveled with a silent, invisible companion just within reach. A long, pained exhale of a weary sigh left her. Her hands halted where they lay upon the console to hold a moment's memory for dear, lost Brya. She breathed in, out. In. Then she continued.
No change or sign of life from the concealed figure. Very well, Eris thought. Come with me. As she spun up the ship's engines, she indulged the atypical inclination to hum tunelessly under her breath.
Exiting the hangar, they ascended from the urban sprawl of the ringed City. The low buildings at its center now lay like a bowl at its exposed heart, the curve of their skyline tracing the absence of the immense sphere that had hung above them for so many centuries. Eris wondered how the gardens there now fared. Surely they were not accustomed to such an excess of sunlight.
Though she had been returning to her post on Luna, she slowed once exiting the thermosphere and eased her ship into a steady orbit. The engines wound down to a comfortable grumble, rather than the roar of effort to escape an entire planet's gravity.
Then Eris waited.
At first, she busied herself checking messages and sending a few short replies flitting away. Soon, though, she simply watched the cosmos outside the small ship: spheres upon spheres upon spheres. Terra turned below as her orbital path curved above it, as Luna arced high round them and as the whole solar system wound ever on; and the galaxy itself tumbled over and onward through the void, all its stars space-bright and unblinking.
At last, a ripple of presence interrupted her contemplation.
In the rear of the cabin, a Warlock had become visible. She sat on the floor with knees to her chest and back to the wall, unmoving. Orchid-colored robes gathered at her waist and ankles. Even their brilliant saturation seemed muted by their wearer's demeanor.
While Eris had suspected the identity of her stowaway, she had never encountered her in a state quite like this. "Ikora?" she asked. No answer. Even when Eris rose to her feet and approached, Ikora's eyes stared past the ship's walls unseeing.
Eris knelt before her. Once more, she spoke her name, again to the absence of a response. Did it feel cooler, in this part of the small cabin? Eris pulled off one bony gauntlet to feel the air. It did. She cautiously lowered her hand onto Ikora's where it lay listless against the metal floor panel. Still, nothing.
On a hunch, Eris tucked a finger under the cuff of Ikora's glove where it flared around her forearm. Ikora's skin was cold. 
Void users. They so easily slipped into that state where chill set in unnoticed: unbothered by the thermal dysregulation, but affected nonetheless.
Eris took off her other gauntlet and pressed Ikora's forearm between her palms. Dexterous leather somewhat inhibited the transfer of heat, but Eris did not presume to remove the glove. She worked her way from elbow to wrist, warming them with her own flesh.
"Eris?" came the muted question, once Eris' efforts had made enough headway into that soul-deep chill.
"Be at ease," Eris said, her voice low. 
"What...?"
"You are safe. There is no one else here. I am with you."
Slowly, Ikora's eyes took in the sight of her hand, clasped between Eris' own. "Oh," she said in the softest whisper.
Bare fingers rested at the clasp on the back of Ikora's glove. "May I? You are cold. I am less so, for once." Luna was ever so, so cold.
Enough of Ikora's focus returned for her to look at Eris and see her. "Why?" she said with plaintive lack of comprehension.
Eris closed her eyes instead of rolling them. Why? Oh, to be asked such a broad question. So many true and tender answers uncurled within Eris' chest. But clearly, in the throes of such self-abnegation, Ikora would take few of them to heart.
"Because you came to me." She opened her eyes and caught Ikora's bemused gaze, held it. Consciously or not, with intent or without, Ikora had come to her in crisis. People often did, these days. Somehow they knew that they could. The work of counsel was challenging, yet it made every cruelty that she had survived mean more than just the pain. Eris needed that as much as they needed her. However, she was not so sure that Ikora's exacerbated self-sufficiency would allow her to admit such a need, even now when it was so evident.
She still knelt before Ikora, still held that unmoving hand and wrist between her ungloved palms. "You are too cold."
"Oh. Yes. Cold..." Those chilled hands lay inert within hers, neither accepting nor denying.
Eris cast about the tiny cabin in vain. "Do you need...tea?" Ikora was always drinking hot tea, was renowned for it. Briefly, she wondered if this was why. "I doubt I have any kind that you favor. But I have some herbal tisanes, and it will be warm." She would find a way to heat some water. 
"No, no," Ikora demurred. "That's not necessary. I—"
Eris cut her off with a squeeze of her hand and a deeply unimpressed look. "Then let me help." 
Slowly and gently, she eased loose the clasp of Ikora's glove. With a sigh of acquiescence, Ikora let the weight of her hands down into Eris' waiting ones.
One leather gauntlet slipped free, then the other. The soft brown fingers they protected were elegant, their cant delicate but strong, like a musician's. Eris sat close and pressed them between her palms like flowers to preserve, warming them in an act of incremental tenderness.
The touch of skin felt so strange, yet familiar. The contact lingered like oil even when she let go, painless but present. Was it a memory from a time when Eris intermingled more easily with the rest of humanity? Or was it something unique to this confluence of circumstance, this intimate moment? Eris could not know for sure.
Thoughtless, Eris pressed the bent knuckles to her own lips, breathing warm air over them. In symmetric response, Ikora gasped a small, silent breath. 
Eris' cheeks flushed. Undeterred, she tried to make use of their warmth by pressing Ikora's half-curled hands against them, concealing them. But that only got the smoky ichor that leaked from her eyes all over them. She showed her face once more and waved the trailing dark wisps away. Then she resumed gently massaging Ikora's palms. They felt a little warmer now.
For the first time in perhaps hours, the Void-stillness broke and Ikora moved on her own. She pulled one hand free—only to return it to Eris' face.
Eris' hands froze mid-stroke as she ceased all motion. Ikora let a few tendrils of dark gossamer curl around one finger, then another. Just below the gauze of her blindfold, the backs of them rested against her cheek. The deep-brown amber of Ikora's eyes had clarified, focusing once more on the here and now. Hazy discharge billowed and ran like suspended ink in the air around the curious thumb that ran through it.
"It tingles. Like anemone barbs, almost. A little numb," Ikora said.
Eris relented from her automatic stillness. "Yes. It does." Her lips were dry.
"You've become accustomed to it?"
"I have." She tentatively resumed kneading Ikora's other palm. "The scar tissue around my eyes has left much of my face numbed already."
Ikora skimmed the smooth backs of her nails down Eris' cheek toward her chin, along a gradient of increasing sensation. Those dark, bright eyes shifted to meet the glow of her gaze, reflecting luminous points of green.
"But not all?"
Eris blinked, moistened her lips. "No, not all." Ikora's stare was so intense, she had to look away. That consuming regard wrung something in Eris' chest like a rag until it dripped longing. 
Yet, when Eris' eyes were drawn right back again, concern pushed aside all other feelings. "Ikora. What's wrong?"
For once, Ikora did not brush the question aside. Her face fell, as if the weight of the world had reasserted itself on her shoulders.
"It's... I don't—"
All at once, bright light reflected through the hull window and illuminated Ikora's stricken face in an unnatural stark white.
As it passed below, the sun shone off the Traveler's gleaming surface in a lancing glare. No longer was it interrupted by the density of the atmosphere down near the Earth's surface.
Perhaps it wasn't the heaviness of the world that left Ikora at a loss. It never had. It was the absence of that gravity, now, the vacuum of uncertainty untethering her from her place in the Tower, her role in all of it. She must have felt so lost right then.
"Oh, Ikora," Eris whispered. "I am so sorry. Truly." She gripped Ikora's hand as hard as she could, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough.
Eris tried anyway. 
She hesitated to follow her instinct for an instant. But the only thing Ikora had responded to so far was sustained tactility. She pulled Ikora fully into her arms.
The moment Eris' arms closed around her, Ikora went limp. It was worse than if she had broken down weeping. As chilled as she was, she felt like a corpse in Eris' arms.
"Ikora..."
Never before had Ikora's voice been anything but beautiful, fluid, harmonious and eloquent, even in moments of utmost strife and fury. Now, simple words emitted from her in a hoarse whisper. "I don’t know what to do." 
Eris breathed against her. Ikora's chest moved so slowly in comparison. "Clarity before action, this time," she said. Her own voice held low and steady, but it shimmered at the edges with emotion. "What do you feel?"
Silence. Then: "Too much. Not enough."
Eris nodded. The motion brushed the fabric of her hood against Ikora's cheek. "I, too, have felt that at times. When the pain is so immense that there is not enough of you to feel it all."
In slow motion, Ikora shook her head. The motion was at first hesitant, then more definitive. "I can't do enough. I have no answers for anyone, not when they most need them. I can't, I don't know, I don't..."
She was spiraling. "Hush," Eris interrupted in a whisper. An echo of words that she had been given long ago rose to the surface of her mind and now found themselves on her lips. "You are more than your uses." Eris' voice carried the faint cadence of an Awoken lilt, in memory of the first time she had heard them spoken, uncomprehending. She had held them close for a long time, until she could begin to grasp their wisdom.
On that long journey of understanding, she'd had Ikora's help, too. Ikora had been there alongside her, through so, so much, from the moment she had learned of Eris' continued existence. She had supported her, defended her, and most of all, believed her when no one else yet would. 
And yet, despite going out of her way to aid others in learning that self-value, Ikora still could not believe such truths of herself, nor that she should ever be cared for in any such way. She would not like to have such a long-held conviction challenged.
But Eris dared.
"Ikora." 
Eris murmured the name like an invocation. Beautiful. Ikora. Surely a variant of Icarus, the sun-seeker who flew too high and fell to his death, forgetting himself in the pure joy of his hard-won freedom. No wonder Ikora held herself so tightly. But her namesake's wings would have melted just the same had he flown too low, too close to the damp, cloying sea.
Eris lifted Ikora up until she could settle her draped across her lap, then gathered her close. Despite herself, Ikora nestled against her chest, with her arms folded in and her head bent to Eris' heart. Eris ached.
"Ikora. How can you not know you are beloved by many? As yourself, as you are."
Ikora shook her head absently, almost resigned. "People need a leader to look to. I've done all I can to give them a worthwhile Vanguard. That is all they see, if even that."
Sometimes, Eris supposed that it was the sheer impossible breadth and depth of Ikora's knowledge that necessitated the balance of such an impenetrable, obstinate blind spot, centered firmly on herself. 
"I cannot speak for them, but that is not who I see," Eris said.
"Only because you came back from the Hellmouth and I didn't turn you away."
Hurt sparked a flicker of anger within Eris. She captured it with a candle, then held it forth to illuminate the space that had always been left shadowed between them.
"Do not presume to tell me that my pain is stronger than myself." 
Ikora did not start, precisely, but some infinitesimal jolt ran through her. 
Despite her ire, Eris continued to hold Ikora against her body like a precious thing.
"And do not presume to make so little of such kindness as you showed me then. Not in this cruel world. It—" Eris broke off. She tried to choke back the sudden emotion, but then—no, she thought. She needs to know. She spoke despite the thickness of her voice. "It was...it wasn't the only thing that saved me. But I could not have been saved without your compassion."
"Eris... Eris, you saved yourself."
Eris shook her head. "Not alone, I didn't. Not even under Luna. I had memories to cling to. And when I emerged, there was you. And my queen, and Cousin Asher, and Osiris, and our Guardian friend. Despite it all, you, especially, have not let me forget that I am not alone. 
"Neither do you have to be alone through this. I am here," she whispered next to Ikora's ear. "Let me be here."
No spoken reply came. But Ikora's breath came shakily, and she curled further into Eris' embrace.
Eris laid one hand on the back of her close-shorn head and held her.
At length, Ikora's body took on a softness that spoke more of relaxation than being utterly spent. Still, doubt clearly plagued her.
"Why are you doing this?" Ikora asked, her voice faint.
"Would you rather I not?"
"...No. But I still don't understand."
"Ikora..." Eris said, at a loss.
"Why do you keep saying my name like that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like it's so important."
"Have you ever known me not to feel what I speak?" At least where Ikora was concerned, she had long avoided speaking what she felt precisely because of their equivalence. But perhaps that had been a mistake. Despite all the sound reasons that Eris had long spurned all desires except that for her own vengeance, others still existed in its shadow. All the same, she saw now that one, in particular, had even grown. It had vined itself around that ever-growing monument to Eris' grief, had lifted itself into the light until its leaves, too, shimmered with possibility.
Now, Ikora was drawing herself up to look at Eris, truly regarding her with every sense causal and paracausal, as if she had stumbled upon evidence she could scarcely believe nor deny.
"Say it again?" Ikora whispered like a challenge, like a herald.
"Ikora," Eris murmured into the space between them. Perhaps that was all she had ever needed to say. Then—closer. "Ikora. Ikora. Ikora." The name echoed softly in the finally listening ear, then brushed against the jugular pulse of its bearer as delicately as a fox between brambles. Ikora's body froze as her heartbeat quickened against Eris' lips. Eris made to draw back, but—
A now-warm hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Then it curled tightly into the fabric of her hood there and gripped her. Fingertips dug into the nape of Eris' neck, but not as a warning. Rather, as an exhortation.
Eris smiled with teeth. The reflection of her blazing eyes flared in Ikora's wide pupils.
"Is there something you want?" Eris asked in the mildest tone.
Ikora scoffed in complete disbelief and frustration. Then she kissed Eris hard on the mouth.
Eris' world became a whirl of intense sensation. Even before her descent into Luna, she had only ever sought these situations sparingly. Even this simple reverie of lips and hands, of arms encircling, left her limbs like water; anything else would wash her away into overwhelmed dissociation. This was more than enough to leave her nerves sparking with pleasure.
And Ikora could clearly tell. She had always hewn assiduously to the physical boundaries Eris set with the rest of the world. Time and again, she had kept herself just far enough at arm's length to soothe the animal fear of proximity that so plagued Eris in those early years after the Hellmouth. Ikora had a way of knowing what lines not to cross. It's what made her as formidable an opponent in City politics as she had been in the bloody court of the Crucible. 
Given that history of distance, Eris supposed she could not fault Ikora for not having realized that in time, Eris would have welcomed her closer.
Now, Eris could almost feel the way Ikora's regard cast paracausal ripples beyond each potential touch, gauging Eris' most likely reaction before she gave it. Such prescience had long earned Ikora a false reputation for telepathy. However, her closest Hidden knew that she simply had an extraordinary talent for probability analysis of any given situation, paracausally accelerated and honed to incredible accuracy. 
In this vibrant present, Eris had become the focus of her every bent attention, paracausal or otherwise. It was as exquisitely satisfying as her touch.
Ikora's lips were dry and cracked with chill and lack of care. But they were full and fervent as they closed on Eris' mouth to suck sweetly at the lower lip and then the upper. Eris responded in kind.
No longer content to drape passively across Eris' lap, Ikora now straddled her where she sat on the dusty floor of her own ship, unassuming yet intimate. The trusting weight of her seated on Eris' thighs was equally as grounding as the way Ikora pressed her against the cabin wall was exhilarating.
Eris, for her part, trailed kisses along Ikora's razor jawline and returned to her neck where she had briefly been before being so rudely interrupted. Delicious, ragged breaths greeted her as she reclaimed Ikora's fluttering pulse, this time with unbridled intent. 
Before tucking her face into the tall, flared collar of Ikora's robe to explore the crook of her neck, Eris took a moment to shrug off the hood of her cloak. She also loosened the bandage about her eyes so that the gauze fell away freely. Rather than revulsion, Ikora gazed upon her scarred, three-eyed face with recognition. Instead of horror, something more akin to hunger moved within the depths of her brown eyes. She wove a hand gratefully into the short, messy strands of Eris' hair and clutched at her bare neck as Eris resumed her attentions.
Eris tugged at the collar of Ikora's undershirt to expose the soft angle where the tense muscle of the trapezius at the top of her shoulder disappeared between the sharp bone of scapula and clavicle. She planted a few kisses at that vanishing point before moving on to the ridge of her collarbone. Perhaps she didn't need to bite quite so hard as to leave marks, but Ikora wasn't exactly complaining.
Well, not much, anyway.
"Easy, Eris!" Ikora gasped.
Relenting, Eris laid her reddened lips on the marks, all tenderness now.
"I'm sorry," she said, half penitent, half mischief.
"Don't," Ikora retorted.
"Would you like to have Ophiuchus fix them for you?"
"Absolutely not."
Eris chuckled.
"You are a menace."
"You like it."
"I love it. I love—" Ikora cut off, biting her lip.
"Go on," Eris said, breathless.
"—you. I love you. Eris, I've missed you."
"For how long?"
"Since you left the City."
"Since—" Eris reached back in memory. "Since after Oryx?"
"Yes."
"Ikora, it's been six years."
"That isn't that long."
"Perhaps not if you were raised in the Dark Age, old woman."
"Well, how long for you?"
"Since I returned."
"From the Reef?"
"From the Hellmouth."
"From—Eris, that's even longer, you hypocrite." Ikora pressed her palms into Eris' shoulders just below the pauldrons, pinning her in place. Her eyes were intense and beautiful, like the rest of her.
"I was not in any position to become aware of it or to act upon it then, or for many years after," Eris said defensively.
"Then when were you?"
Eris sighed and leaned fully back against the wall. Ikora followed and lay against her, chest to chest.
"I don't know. But lately, I have been thinking."
"Don't strain yourself."
Eris panted a laugh. She gave Ikora a mock gentle shove in retaliation. In the scant space it created between them, she bent and skimmed her teeth over Ikora's Adam's apple again, a threat and a promise that garnered her a sharp, sensual intake of breath.
"I have been thinking of many things. Among them, you have frequented my mind more and more."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
"How so?"
In a slow arc, Eris raised her head to meet Ikora's gaze eye to eye. As if laying hands on a priceless piece of art, she touched Ikora's cheek. "I realized you bring me joy," she whispered.
So close, Eris could see the water building in Ikora's eyes before it spilled over. Her heart clenched in dismay. "Oh, no, I—Ikora, why—are you crying?" In all the decades of their acquaintance, she had never known Ikora to even approach tears.
"I'm sorry," Ikora said in a thick voice. "I just—you came back so hurt, back then. And you've come so, so far. To think that you could be happy again—and that, I would make you feel that way—?" She leaned in close again, letting their cheeks touch. Hot tears mingled with the oily smoke trailing from Eris' own eyes. Stunned, Eris curled tentative arms around her again until she calmed. She held on to Eris, too, with shaky hands that rested on her ribs.
"How could I not?" Eris said in her softest voice. "You showed me how." At that, Ikora’s chest heaved again with emotion. "Are you all right?"
Silent, Ikora began to nod against her, then stopped. Her head twitched sideways in a choked negative.
"What is it?"
"I... This, you, make me…this is…wonderful. I never thought..." She tucked her hands between Eris' shoulders and the wall to hold her in a quiet embrace. "But...I don't think I'm okay, Eris." Ikora's tremulous whisper shook as if she were revealing the universe's darkest secret.
"How so?"
"Just look at how you found me today. I couldn't even hold on to the present, much less prepare for the future. That's never happened to me before. Not like this."
"Neither have any of the extraordinary circumstances we find ourselves in. It is not so strange; a new response to a new situation, particularly one that pains you so personally. Your devotion to the Light and the Traveler has ever been strong."
"That's easy to say."
"No," Eris said. "Witnessing your pain is never easy."
Ikora's posture softened at the tenderness in Eris' voice.
"What if I can't do this?"
"That, in itself, is all right."
"What?" Ikora drew back to stare at her. "What do you mean? You're more invested in fighting back the darkness than anyone. Well, not the Darkness, but—you know what I mean."
"Precisely." Eris held her gaze without wavering. "You are not alone in this fight. I am here, as are many others. And if the way you have been resisting the tide of evil no longer suffices..." Eris closed all her eyes, for just a moment remembering all the changes wrought upon her body, mind, and heart, by others' hands and by her own, sculpting her anew until she considered her old self as dead beneath Luna. "Then you will find new ways. I know you. And I—" she opened her eyes, met the intense brown gaze that assessed her and found her worthwhile. "I will still love you."
Doubt still troubled Ikora's face. But at least now she was less distraught, more pensive.
"You don't need to believe me now," Eris said. "Only think on it."
"All right," Ikora whispered. She hugged Eris once more, and its softness was so intimate that Eris shivered. 
At length, Ikora gathered herself up from Eris' lap and stood. Her stance was surer, steadier once more. She held out both hands and helped Eris to her feet as well. They both just stood there for a moment, hand in hand, searching each other's faces.
"What now?" Eris asked softly.
"I'm not sure. Where were you going?"
"Returning to my post on Luna."
"...Can I come with you, and stay a little longer?" Ikora's gaze skimmed the dusty floor, but she held fast to Eris' hands. "I'm not ready to return yet."
"Of course," Eris said. She would not question this understandable lapse in Ikora's single-minded fixation on her responsibilities as Vanguard: Ikora clearly, dearly, needed it. With an understated smile, she added, "Though I fear you may be briefly stranded with me until a Guardian can fetch you back to the City. My next research project requires careful monitoring."
Nodding, Ikora traced the fingers of one hand over Eris' temple. Then she repeated their same sensory-gradient path from earlier, from the faint tingle at her scarred cheek to the sensitive angle of her chin. "I don't think that would be so terrible," she said. "I would enjoy seeing more of your work."
She laid her palm along Eris' jawline and tilted her own head in query.
"May I kiss you again?" Ikora said, in a voice as soft as cashmere.
If Eris could bury her face in that lush voice, she would. As it happened, she was being invited to do the next best thing. 
"Absolutely," Eris said.
That next kiss was so devastatingly soft and slow that Eris nearly melted back to the floor again, armor and all. It was both startling and utterly unsurprising, the way that such terrible gentleness could so undo her. It was something in the cushioned press of Ikora's lips to her own, leisurely yet urgent; something of a long-unspoken ache relieved but not yet sated; something about being close enough to touch, and hands that wanted to hold her closer.
It was a phenomenon worth some of her time to study. After all, a certain stowaway had expressed a personal interest in her research, and would surely want to know the results.
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baycitystygian · 1 year
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y’all I am going absolutely feral. I’ve been glued to this one show lately and it’s a 90’s sitcom called Caroline In The City and it’s driving me crazy. I love it. I love the characters (except Charlie but he doesn’t get a super huge amount of screen time so like. whatever) and the main ship is just so fucking GOOD and the writers are dragging this out so bad. literally giving me ship blueballs and I hate thisssssssss just let them be happy already 😭
#I THINK THEY WERE TRYING TO BE FRASIER#CAUSE LIKE. THEY DEFINITELY HAD A LOT OF RELATIONSHIP PLOT POINTS IN COMMON WITH DAPHNE AND NILES. SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU CARE.#IM ONLY ON SEASON THREE SO DONT SPOIL ANYTHING FURTHER#BUT LIKE. IT STARTED OFF WITH THE GUY PINING FOR THE GIRL. CHECK. THEN THE GIRL GETS FEELINGS FOR THE GUY BUT OOPS THE GUY IMPULSIVELY-#GOT MARRIED TO SOMEONE HORRIBLE. ALSO BACKING IT UP A LITTLE THE GIRL WAS ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE BUT IT DIDNT WORK OUT#ALSO I HAVE TO SCREAM ABOUT RICHARD OR I WILL IMPLODE#RICHARD IS *THE* POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW TO END ALL POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOWS#HES HANDSOME AND DORKY AND BROODY WITH REALLY PRETTY BIG EYES AND HE HAS NEVER COMMITTED A WAR CRIME BUT IF HE DID HE WOULD HAVE EARNED IT#THE MAN PUT UP WITH SO MUCH. POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW BASICALLY GETS TORTURED EVERY EPISODE. HES EARNED A LITTLE HOMICIDE. AS A TREAT.#also sorry for all caps but I’m REALLY REALLY INTO THIS SHOW AND IM EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT IT#this is gonna be wingsposting all over again huh. me talking about my 90’s sitcom du jour and nobody else getting it or caring.#anyways Richard Korinsky can get it and I’ll volunteer. but also him and Caroline are just so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#ALSO DAVID HYDE PIERCE WAS IN AN EPISODE AND MY GOD HE PUT HIS WHOLE PUSSY INTO IT HES SO ICONIC#THERES SO MANY AMAZING GUEST STARS. I RECOGNIZED GEORGE SEGAL BEFORE HE EVEN SHOWED HIS FACE ON CAMERA.#I LITERALLY SAW THE BACK OF HIS HEAD AND WAS LIKE NO FUCKING WAYYYYY#i LOVE just shoot me so I’m used to seeing him in the late 90’s/early 2000’s. I am not clairvoyant I’m just a dorrrrrrrrrrrrk
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One thing I definitely dont miss from Being In College And Trying To Get a Art Career is everybody even slightly older then me trying to turn everything into a learning experience. Im glad now when I dont get accepted for a job I dont get a email back telling me WhAt MakEs A StRong POrTfoliO
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foxyverserambles · 1 month
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Gods I fuckin g love lost word stories
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froggibus · 1 year
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Seeing Their Pact Mark For The First Time - Obey Me! Brothers
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Summary: how they react to seeing their pact mark for the first time
CW: branding, marking, general possessiveness? suggestive (Lucifer’s and Asmo’s), jealousy (Levi’s)
more obey me content!! i am down bad for MAMMON rn so that’s what brought this about lol. also some happier content (thank god)
————
Lucifer
his is on the back of your neck
usually it’s hidden under your hair or the collar of your shirt so no one really sees it 
lucifer is curious about it but doesn’t really care to ask
honestly he got really busy after the pact was formed and forgot all about it
you’re late for school one day and rushing to get ready in the bathroom when Lucifer walks by 
you have your head down looking for something and he sees it on the back of your neck
literally stops in his tracks and does a double take 
“so that’s where it is.”
jumpscare 
he asks to see it again
has you sit down in front of him so he can play with your hair and rub his fingers across the mark 
he loves that there’s a vow on your body binding you to him that only he can see
unless he gets jealous and “accidentally” uncovers it in front of someone 
(also unrelated but imagine giving him head in a position where he can see it—him holding you by the pact mark and guiding you along his length)
Mammon
it’s on your back where your heart would be
you know what it means but you don’t want to tell Mammon about it
he would probably just make fun of you anyways
one day he comes to see you after school, and forgets to knock
unfortunately for both of you, you’re in the process of changing into your pyjamas 
he walks in right as you take your shirt off, and he’s greeted by your back and the golden mark that resides there
definitely screams and hides his face in his arm 
“w-why are you naked??”
“why didn’t you knock?!”
you finish putting on your shirt and lay down on your bed, stomach first 
“mammon, you can open your eyes now”
he awkwardly does, relief washing over him when he sees that you’re fully clothed
“so what did you need?”
“was that my pact mark on your back?”
you agree and then ask if he wants to see it
he does but insists it’s just to see what it looks like (no other reason)
you lift the back of your shirt up and continue laying down on your stomach
Mammon feels really emotional looking at it
his pact mark, on his human?
he traces the outline of it, in awe of how it looks on your skin 
neither of you say anything for a while, you just lay there contentedly while he runs his fingers over the mark over and over again 
Levi
his is on your left thigh, just below where your underwear sit
what better placement for the Avatar of Envy?
you couldn’t find it at first, but you could feel it 
when you did finally find the orange mark on your leg, you knew that Levi would implode if he ever found it 
Levi sees you showing his brothers their pact marks and gets a little a lot jealous 
doesn’t confront you about it tho and instead decides to go pout in his room about it 
when you come in to check on him, he’s a little cold with you 
“cmon leviachan, talk to me. what’s got you so upset?”
you have to listen to a five minute self deprecation spiral before he even tells you why he’s upset
“levi…you know that if you wanted to see your mark, all you had to do was ask, right?”
he’s a little embarrassed about it now but with some gentle coaxing you manage to calm him down enough and get him to sit on the bed across from you
when you start unbuttoning your pants, his face burns 
“OMG y/n, w-what are you doing?”
“calm down, Levi…just, look, okay?”
you tug your pants down to your knees and stretch out your left leg so that he can see the orange mark 
“open your eyes, Levi, it’s just my underwear”
Levi wants to argue that it’s not just your underwear but he shuts up when he opens his eyes and sees the mark
it’s on your thigh of all places???
if people thought he was a pervert before, what would they think of him now??
“Levi,” you say, trying to bring him back to reality
when that doesn’t work, you grab his hand and place it over your thigh 
his hands are warm compared to your cold skin and it grounds you both 
“are you better now?”
he nods slowly, unable to look at you while his hand is on your bare thigh 
Satan
his is on the left side of your rib cage 
it’s just hidden enough that even if you wear crop tops, he wouldn’t be able to see it 
he definitely went around asking his brothers where theirs was in order to process of elimination where it is 
he doesn’t want you to just tell him
he feels like he should be able to know/guess where it is just based on the connection 
probably overworks himself trying to figure it out
finally, after a few nights of detective work and little sleep, you force him to lay in his bed 
“I’m going to show you where it is, and in return, you’re going to actually get some sleep”
he begrudgingly agrees, propping his head up on the headboard to watch you
you straddle his hips and slowly strip your shirt off, adjusting so that he can see the green mark of wrath 
his mouth goes dry seeing it 
he definitely didn’t consider that it would be there of all places 
reaches out and brushes his fingers across it 
“is it everything you hoped for” you joke
but it really is everything he hoped for 
Asmo
its below your belly button, stopping just above your pubic bone
it’s kinda the perfect spot for him too 
a cute little pink swirl leading to your precious parts
Asmo likes to giggle and speculate where it shows up
honestly he hopes a little that it ends up over your heart, but he won’t be disappointed otherwise 
loves to tease you about the mark too
one day you’ve had enough of his teasing and speculation though
“I’m putting this to rest, Asmo,” and you take him to your room and make him sit on his knees in front of you
you roll up your shirt and he can see just the beginnings of it under your belly button 
then you unbutton your pants and roll them down to your thighs so he can see the rest of it
his eyes are practically glowing when he sees it
“it’s so pretty!!” he gushes
asks if he can touch it and you agree, gasping when his perfectly manicured fingers brush across your mark
presses a kiss to it and leaves a glob of sparkly lipstick behind 
begs you to let him take a picture of it to keep (and may or may not set it as his Home Screen) 
also expect him to be admiring it and touching it anytime he sees it
Beel
his showed up just above your belly button
he always wondered where it was but never thought to ask 
if you wanted to show him, you would…right?
eventually gives in to his impulses and asks you directly 
“y/n…” bro is sweating buckets
you’re genuinely worried something is wrong by how serious he is at first 
“what’s up?”
“I just wanted to know…where’s my pact mark?”
Oh 
you’re honestly relieved it wasn’t anything too serious 
“follow me”
you bring him into your room and close the door behind him
honestly Beel starts to worry where it is 
when you slowly peel off your t-shirt, he covers his eyes and his cheeks flush 
you have to pry his hand off of his eyes to even get him to look 
“beel—calm down. it’s on my stomach.”
he’s breathless when he sees the swirling red mark
asks if he can touch and you nod eagerly 
his touch is gentle, calloused fingers smoothing over your skin 
you’re not sure what prompts you to ask, but suddenly you’re looking up at him through your lashes and asking “do you like it?”
Beel doesn’t even know what to respond to that 
of course he likes it
it’s a mark that ties the two of you together 
instead of answering, he chooses to press a soft kiss to the centre of your mark
Belphie
belphie’s is a tramp stamp
it’s on your lower back, right on the spot where your t-shirt always rides up while you sleep 
you’re half convinced that it only showed up there as a joke 
Belphie never really cared much to see it either 
like he always saw his brothers asking and fawning over theirs but he just…didn’t care
he always felt a bit of a disconnect regarding your pact tbh
he comes home early from school one day to take a nap and sees you already sleeping on the couch
you’re curled up in a ball, your face shoved in the cushions
and your shirt is twisted and has started to ride up as you move in your sleep
he sees the mark and his first thought is “y/n has a tattoo?”
he moves closer to see what it is and as soon as he realizes it’s his pact mark he almost falls over 
it’s there of all places?
because of fucking course it is
he kinda just sits on the floor next to you for a while admiring it while you sleep
until he notices you’re shivering and feels like he has to do something about it
slowly pulls down your shirt over the mark he loves so much and lays his jacket on top of you
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
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Tiny Spider
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader
FLUFF. No warnings. Just ‘how are babies made’ and 'where do babies come from’ with Miguel and his daughter :)
"I can sense you, tiny spider."
Your eyes darted upwards only to find your daughter of six dangling from the celining by a single thread, wobbling slightly from side to side.
She stuck out her tongue, visibly distraught that she got caught.
"It's time to eat something. Come down now," you urged, pointing to the empty seat at the table.
As stubborn as her father, she wasn't easily convinced and merely dropped a little lower until she eye-leveled with both of you.
"I think Mayday is a terrible influence," you said. "Don't you think, Miguel?"
He was giving her the glare, but it wasn't enough. "No webs at the table."
"But, papá—”
Miguel remained unmoved. She wouldn't win this battle, but he wouldn't either unless you interveened.
"Eat your breakfast," you told her once again, sipping your herbal tea.
She was getting the hang of physics and motion, but it would take her a while to do so effortlessly and gracefully.
Swinging lightly, she managed to flip her feet down and land on the chair nearby.
Now the three of you could finally enjoy breakfast peacefully.
"Where did I come from?"
Miguel instantly frozen and you nearly dropped your cup of tea.
You offered her an understanding look, unsure of how to approach the topic. It's a topic that is bound to be brought up sooner or later, but one that both you and Miguel would rather have to touch later rather than sooner.
"What do you think?" you asked, exchanging a glance with Miguel who looked like he was one second away from imploding.
"Uncle Hobie said a big spider brought me here," she said excitedly. "That mamá and papá wanted me, so a big, big spider came here!," she gesticulated enthusiastically, arms up in the air to emphasise the proportions of said creature.
Miguel grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Uncle Hobie... of course."
"Well..."
Her eyes darted from you to Miguel, waiting for confirmation.
You went first. "That's not what happened. Uncle Hobie isn't to be trusted with stuff like this, little spider."
"Or trusted at all," you heard Miguel mumble more to himself.
The thing with children is that they tend to be very expressive and transparent, so the moment you watched her smile drop, you knew something was wrong.
"You... didn't want me?" she whispered, bottom lip quivering into a pout.
"No! I mean - we did!" Miguel promptly rectified. "No big spider brought you here..." his eyes met yours seeking reassurance. "We did."
"That's it?" she asked, resring her elbows on the table and placing her jaw on both palms of her hands.
She looked... unimpressed.
Miguel nodded, chopping an apple into slices with one of his talons so she could have a bite.
"Pffff," she groaned. "Boring!"
Miguel O'hara wasn't one to be left speechless very often, so you figured this had definitely caught him off guard.
"Sometimes the truth can be boring," you said with a chuckle. "But we both really wanted you and that's what matters."
Your daughter didn't seem to care much about that and, in that moment, the flash of defiance and arms crossed in front of her chest reminded you of Miguel.
"So how did you bring me here?"
"Huh..."
Miguel glanced out the window as he cleared his throat.
Did he expect you to tackle this by yourself? He should have known better.
"Your father will be more than glad to explain," you said, leaning back in your seat, earning a death glare from him.
She was growing impatient by the second, eyes fixed on him as if awaiting a bedtime story.
"Go on, Miguel," you teased with a devious smile.
"Tell me, papá!" she suddenly banged both hands on the table. "I want to know!"
Miguel frowned. Deeply. If looks could kill, you reckoned you'd be six feet under by now.
But he wasn't getting off the hook easily.
"When two people like each other very much... that can happen," he said, not bothering with details.
"But how? How?" she was bouncing in her seat at this point.
You gave him an encouraging smile.
He sighed in defeat. "Hmm... I placed a tiny seed inside your mother one day," his voice was gentle and he seemed more confident now. "You grew and grew and, many months later, you were here with us."
It was an easy enough explanation.
But...
"Inside mama?"
"Yes. Like an egg," he said warmly, wrapping his large hand around her tiny one.
"A chicken egg?" she gasped, turning to you and you immediately noticed a front tooth missing already. Kids. "But... I'm not a chicken."
Her genuine innocence was so endearing that you couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Miguel..."
"Maybe I should have said spider egg?"
"Woah! Now that's cool!" she beamed and her eyes widened like a kid who had just been told they could have unlimited supply of candy. "So I'm really a spider!"
"A tiny spider, yes," he said with a faint smile.
Warmth filled your insides at once. Miguel was always meant to be a father. He was just a natural when it came to children.
He suddenly shot a single string of red web to land on the chair where your daughter sat, sliding it closer to him. She burst into laughter from the motion before putting on a forced serious face.
"No webs at the table!" she tried to mimic his tone, her index finger in front of her face.
He planted a soft kiss on it before bringing her into a tight embrance.
"No more hanging around Uncle Hobie unsupervised," he whispered into her ear.
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Masterlist
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venusbby · 1 year
Text
post it, or don't ♡
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characters/pairings: itoshi rin x reader
warnings: one cuss word lol, not proofread sorry if there's any typos!!! have a good day people.
✿ summary: your tired boyfriend is not a big fan of your spam account being filled with his overly cute photos.
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"stop that—"
"stop what?"
"you're taking pictures of me."
"im not, rinnie."
you definitely were.
how could you not take pictures of him when he's sprawled out on top of you like a house cat?
although he was trying his best not to put all of his weight on you, it was impossible to control himself. especially when his body was quite sore from his new workout routine.
rin was unusually clingy today, his exhaustion was responsible for that. initially, all he needed was to lie down on the bed and let his muscles rest against the mattress— but then he realised you were already there, scrolling through your social media.
he just couldn't say no when you opened your arms and called out to him with that soft voice of yours, and he had already started to dream of the satisfying feeling of your hands running through his hair by that time.
and that's how he ended up with his face nestled in your neck and his legs tangled with yours, much to your enjoyment and his instant regret when you clicked on the camera icon and watched the mess of the dark green hair that tickled your cheek.
he didn't realise anything at first because his eyes were closed and he was actually considering falling asleep right then and there. however, the clicking sound of your phone was enough to make him groan and hide his face further.
but your laugh was so soft yet contagious, right next to his ear, and he was holding onto that one string of hope that you wouldn't record a video of his immediate complaints.
"babyyy, say hi!" you said while doing the exact thing he didn't want you to do— recording a video. it was so fun to get on his nerves sometimes.
all he could do was give the side of your bare hips a light squeeze as he tried his best to speak quietly so the video wouldn't pick up what he was saying. "you make me fucking miserable."
your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled. "alright, okay. i've got my pictures, im satisfied. i'll leave you alone now."
rin slowly peeked up when you placed your phone on the bedside table and shot a glare as you looked down at him. "you're not posting that. i'm tired of seeing my face on my own feed."
"yeah! totally not posting that."
"y/n." it's become a daily thing for him to use your name in that warning tone. "not even the paparazzi post as many pictures of me as you do."
you rolled your eyes. "it's because i'm your biggest fan. just one?"
"no."
"rinnie, pretty please. you just look so cute. gosh, you look even cuter right now." you tried to soften his edges a bit, feeling your chest implode with love because God, your boyfriend was so effortlessly cute. especially when his tired eyes were covered with his dark strands.
all you got in return was a grunt and rin was back to burying his face in the crook of your neck. he really didn't have the energy to deal with your weird ways of convincing. he just needed sleep, and you— he had both of his favourite things now.
you knew he granted you permission once he stopped, or more like gave up, and thanked him softly.
rin hummed as your hands ran over his neck and shoulders and lightly pressed his stiff muscles. a massage to top it all off, your boyfriend was quite literally seeing stars.
"squeeze harder," he mumbled, exhaling slowly when you did as he told you to.
"so, you've been working out."
he didn't respond, waiting for you to say something more related to that as you pondered while pressing your thumb into his skin to ease out the tension.
"don't i deserve a photo or two?" you proposed, a shameless grin on your face when you heard your lover make another noise in annoyance.
"maybe if you don't post that video," rin said, planting a quick kiss against your warm neck as he continued, knowing he had found a good solution. "i'll send you some."
and a few days later, you realised that it was a pretty good deal.
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fjskfjskfndmcndkv. this is all i have to show. bye fellow rin enjoyers.
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allyricas · 7 months
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there's just something so delicious about friends-to enemies-to lovers
barely teenage steve and eddie who have a devastating end to what they both thought would be a forever friendship. maybe it's a misunderstanding or maybe it's just teenage angst that felt impossible to fix in the moment.
but i am feral over the idea that the only reason steve ever became 'king steve' strutting around with tommy and carol with his aloof, semi-mean girl attitude was because of the falling out with eddie. that he did it so he didn't feel so much hurt over it. still has no idea what he did to make eddie suddenly hate him.
same with eddie. he definitely liked metal and nerdy shit all along, but maybe he only leaned into the whole 'forced conformity, it's what's killing the kids' freak persona to guard himself. as armor. because he fucking misses steve as much as he hates him. so he glares and makes snarky comments. finds his solace in DnD and his band.
they fight with words and shoulder shoves in the hallway. each of them too proud to ever talk it out and fix things. to the point that their peers don't remember that steve and eddie used to be inseparable. everyone but steve and eddie forget the obvious affection and closeness they once shared.
it takes a bunch of freshmen to put them back into each other's orbit.
it takes the upside down, a dead cheerleader and an evil wizard for them to actually get along again.
because steve is meant to hate eddie but the moment he sees the trailer and hears the word 'murder' he feels like he might throw up.
Please, god, not eddie.
only to find out he supposedly murdered chrissy cunningham. despite all the animosity between the two of them, steve knows in his soul that eddie would never kill anyone.
even when he's against a wall with sharp glass pressed to his neck, heart racing as he looks into the eyes he tries not to think about, steve knows that eddie won't actually hurt him.
steve has the urge to stay with eddie at the lake house and make sure nothing else happens to him. instead, he stops forcing himself to be an asshole towards eddie. it's exhausting and he's never truly meant it anyways. the upside-down shit is threatening the one person he hoped would never be a part of it.
it takes eddie watching steve get pulled under lover's lake and attacked by demon bats to realize that the biggest misunderstanding was of his own thirteen year old self's feelings. that he could've lost steve and he'd have never even told him the truth of why he let their friendship implode over such a ridiculous misunderstanding.
that he wanted more than friendship and that scared the hell out of him at thirteen.
he sees steve bleeding and throwing himself into danger over and over. realizes that yeah, steve harrington is a good guy. his own personal munson doctrine is fundamentally flawed and untrustworthy and he's in love with this stupidly brave man, maybe since forever.
make him pay means i'm sorry, i love you, please be safe, come back.
it takes eddie nearly dying and his steve carrying him out of hell for eddie to realize that steve never hated him either. that what eddie always views as aloofness and superiority was hurt and steve trying to deal. regardless of whatever lays in the past, steve holds him together with his hands and begs eddie to stay. whispers that he loves him, always has loved him, always will love him.
eddie thinks about all the years they lost due to teenage angst and fear. fights to keep his eyes open and stay, because steve his sobbing and begging him not to go.
and when eddie finally wakes up in the hospital, it's steve and uncle wayne next to him. steve won't leave his side, maybe ever again. neither of them with any desire to ever look at each other with anything but love.
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Love Language
masterlist
summary: you’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?
paring: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.6k
warnings: language, not being able to say “i love you”, talk of sex
author’s note: i always found it interesting dean never told lisa he loved her…like ever. which is strange to me, considering how long they were together?
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Three whole years you’d been with Dean, and neither of you saw an end anywhere in sight. You had grown up a hunter and you’d hit it off with Dean almost instantly when you had met him about five years ago. What started off as a wholesome friendship became deeper and more passionate after a night of drinking.
He cared about you so fucking much, you cared about him too. You were deeply in love. But neither of you had ever actually said love.
It was beginning to really bother you. Why hadn’t he said it? Every other relationship you had up until now had imploded long before the three-year-mark because of your inability to say the three big words.
Did Dean not love you? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t said it yet. You knew you felt that way about him, that you L-worded him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way.
“You okay?” Dean asked when he looked up from the lore book he was reading and was met with your blank stare.
“Yeah…just thinking.”
“About?”
“Do you think it’s weird we haven’t said you-know-what to each other yet?” you asked. He furrowed his brows before he realized what you meant.
“Oh…no? No, definitely not.”
“Dean,” you sighed, closing the book in front of you. “I care about you so much it’s fucking insane but-”
“Right back at ‘cha! Let’s just leave it at that,” he cut you off.
“But, isn’t it strange we can’t say you-know-what? I mean I’d fucking die for you and I can’t say the three words? That’s fuckin’ weird!”
“To be fair, you have died for me. Like twice now,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood. You smiled a little. “And maybe we haven’t said the words but we’ve done other things.”
“If you’re talking about sex right now I swear to god-”
“No!” he chuckled. “I’m talking about that time you jumped in front of a bullet for me. I’m talking about when you were dying in my arms and I made a deal with Crowley to save you. I’m talking about how you bring me chicken noodle soup when I’m sick and force me to stay in bed till I’m feeling better. I’m talking about how many times I’ve bought you tampons and pads and chocolates so you didn’t have to leave the bunker when you were on your period.
“I’m talking about letting you drive Baby, I’m talking about you letting me use your precious espresso machine. I’m talking about the way I look at you when you aren’t looking, and the way you laugh at my clearly un-funny jokes. I’m talking about holding you when you cry and bringing you breakfast in bed. I’m talking about you letting me sleep on your boobs because they’re more comfortable than our pillows even though I know you’re sore in the morning.”
You let out a laugh and slightly rolled your eyes, though you were swelling inside. Dean smiled as he continued.
“I’m talking about those three words that we don’t even have to say because we prove to eachother we feel it every fucking day.”
“God damn it Dean Winchester!” You shook your head, still smiling. You got off the chair, walked around the table, and sat down in his lap. You put your hands on his face and kissed him sweetly. “You mean everything to me, you know that?”
“I do,” he whispered as you rested your forehead on his. “Do you know how much you mean to me?” You nodded. “See, then I think that’s enough.”
“Me too,” you replied before you kissed him again.
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mellori · 10 months
Text
Hey so was ascrolling the locked tomb tag and saw a thing.
Everybody knows the list of reasons Kiriona's a big sad gay b-word when she shows up in Nona the Ninth. We've got:
• Hey so I just woke up in the corpse of my crush who sure seemed like she reciprocated my confession of love right up until she rejected my mortal sacrifice and decided she never wanted to think about me ever again
• My dead mom doesn't love me, actually, she passionately hated me and found the experience of having me both completely repugnant and horribly inconvenient
• The one thing I thought she'd given me across the veil of death i.e. my name - that was petty revenge against the guy who killed her and has nothing to do with me
• The name she did bother to give me was a not particularly funny joke about her plan to kill me immediately after my birth
• Also she's fr dead now I don't get to confront her about/unpack any of this
• Whoops I'm dead again. Totally speedran "fail my sworn oath to protect Harrowhark" this time let's relive that particular trauma
• Back again sorta and now my body is a horrific mockery of humanity meant to protect and preserve me forever because my Dad definitely asked before he did this
• Dad gave me everything I ever told myself that I wanted so now I can never earn any of it and all of it sucks actually, thanks pops
• Also he's currently in a depression spiral because his polycule imploded with a bunch of attempted and/or successful murders
• Also he's 10,000 years old and completely incapable of relating to me in any way
• Sudden onset proximity to power and influence means I can never trust anybody genuinely wants to be my friend and/or is actually attracted to me and not just sucking up to the new crown prince and heir
• Ianthe
I've read or listened to these books at least five times each and totally missed:
• Dad sure is famous for being the only person capable of performing a ressurection and he hasn't bothered to do that to me
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wqnwoos · 2 months
Text
“vernon,” you declare, with a level of magnanimity you only reach when it’s past 11pm. “i have a question for you. of the philosophical kind.”
your best friend glances up through the brown strands that fall over his eyes. “okay,” he agrees half-dubious, half-intrigued. “hit me.”
you sit heavily on the couch beside him, throwing your head against the back of it, staring up at the ceiling with deep, ponderous solemnity. “why is it called being in love?”
vernon considers. “i don’t think that’s very philosophical,” he says, after a moment. “the google definition of philosophy is the fundamental nature of knowledge, existence and reality.”
you cast him a look. “how the fuck do you know the google definition of philosophy? just like that?” he shrugs. you sigh, affectionately. “of course you do.”
there’s silence for a moment, broken only by the soft hum of the washing machine in your other room. your roommate is gone for the weekend; it’s just you, and now vernon, because he knows you don’t like being alone at night.
finally, you speak. “you didn’t answer my question.”
vernon doesn’t miss a beat. “it wasn’t philosophical. i felt misled.”
he’s being annoying. “you’re being annoying.” your best friend is so annoying, but you think the most annoying thing about him is that you can’t kiss him to shut him up.
“besides,” you say, “isn’t love our knowledge, existence and reality?”
slightly more thoughtful silence, broken by — “damn,” vernon says, impressed. “you got me there. that was deep.”
“right?” your enthusiasm with yourself makes him smile, a crooked and charming lift of his lips. you’re still talking, admirably excited and animated for two in the morning. “what i mean is like… why can’t you be in anything else? you can’t be in friendship.”
vernon nods, slowly. “like us, you mean.”
“yeah. like us.” you pause, hesitating on the edge of what you’re about to say. “we’re not in friendship, nobody says that.”
he’s smiling, leaning back against the couch. “i mean, we can start saying it, if you want.”
“i’d rather say something else.” you squeeze your eyes shut, because suddenly this is a lot more daunting than you’d thought, and your hands are getting kind of clammy, but you’re committed now, and so — “i’d rather say we’re in love.”
silence for the third time tonight, and this one makes you want to implode. “eventually, i mean!” you’re already rushing your words, tripping them over each other in your hurry to force them out. “i’m not like, in love with you right now. maybe. nearly, i think. and i don’t —”
when vernon interrupts you, it doesn’t feel like an interruption, it’s so soft. “did you… did you set up this whole conversation just to confess to me like that?”
you open your eyes to look at him, sheepish, apprehensive, embarrassed, all at once. “maybe?” and then you’re rambling again: “because there are some flaws in my argument, you know, because technically you can be in acquaintance with someone or — ”
vernon interrupts you for a second time, which is so unlike him, but you’re not going to point that out. not when his hands are cupping your cheeks, his lips are brushing yours and he’s smiling as he kisses you, soft and sweet and honeyed.
and he pulls back just the barest inch to murmur, with your noses bumping and eyelashes brushing and the cheesiest smiles on both your faces — “i’m nearly in love with you too.”
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an / u will literally have to pry friend 2 lovers vernon out of my cold dead hands. sorry i can’t stop writing it but also i’m not sorry at all
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mit0bee · 10 months
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Twisted Wonderland boys with an S/O who's afraid of bugs (me too)
Did I literally just post 5 minutes ago? yes. am i posting again? yes. Stuff you should read: Bulleted HC's because i dont feel like writing an essay like i did with floyds tent hc, no beta we die like men, mention of multiple types of bugs Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Trey Clover, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt, Floyd Leech
(can be read as platonic but i did write it with a romantic relationship in mind)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
Leona literally came running into the room thinking you had died or smthn, but no. you were screaming, standing on his bed....all over a small cockroach.
Bro actually sighed. like, a super big sigh, one that youd only get from a dissapointed mother while he stomped on the bug.
"Seriously, Herbivore? You took care of multiple overblots, but a single cockroach gets you all worked up?"
hes grinning so hard. youd want to punch him with how hard hes grinning.
all hes thinking is about the amount he can tease you about this
but, yes. he does get rid of the bug.
unless he was sleeping. then he forces asks ruggie to do it nicely.
MALLEUS DRACONIA
implodes the bug.
im not kidding.
he literally goes full on oceangate on that bug and implodes it
you didnt even have time to properly freak out before the bug was wiped off the face of the earth
"tsunotarou what was that sound?"
"nothing light of my life" *hiding bug corpse*
"are you sure bc i thought i saw a bug"
"nope. no bugs here? should we buy some bug repellant to ease your mind?"
".....no its okay."
you knew he somehow killed the bug.
and it only made you love him even more than you already do.
TREY CLOVER
catches the bug for you and lets it outside.
unlike the first two, he tries his best not to kill the bug.
he pulls the "how would you feel if i stomp on you and kill you?"
"if you killed me while i was a bug i'd thank you"
"you'd be dead, [name]."
"....id thank you from the grave."
he just sighs and shakes his head
probably convinces riddle to let him put anti-bug measures around heartslaybul for you (it didnt take much convincing riddle hates bugs too)
JAMIL VIPER
screams with you
probably set ramshackle on fire more than once while visiting you
you both have to call kalim or adeuce to come exterminate the single cockroach on the ground
again, that one tik tok sound where its like
"YOU KILL THE BUG, YOURE THE MAN!"
"SINCE WHEN."
thats a daily interaction between the two of you
if it happened at scarabia, he'd stay at ramshackle for the next month
literally would abandon kalim (or if he really cant be trusted he'd just bring kalim with him to make sure he didn't cause any problems)
VIL SCHOENHIET
screams with you x2
isn't as dramatic as jamil, but he definitely freaks out about it too.
about the bugs? no. about the bug bites.
again, youd have to call someone to save the both of you so you dont pass tf out and die while he gets eaten alive by a fruit fly
wym fruit flies dont bite? you cant be too cautious.
somehow always has bug repellant with him in the warm seasons
hes prepared and will NOT get any bug bites
EPEL FELMIER
zero reaction, or has a positive one.
"what in tarnation do you mean you hate bugs?! they help with fertilizer blah blah blah blah blah blah (i dont know farming stuff)!"
you have to CONVINCE him to get rid of the bugs, but he'll eventually cave and do it just for you
if you ask him to put up anti-insect measures he'd look at you like youre crazy
"[name]. bugs are actually really good for our ecosystem. back at home we always had to take care of the bugs, or else our crops would die."
"shut up. please. ily, but i cant deal with these bugs."
"okay okay okay fine"
will reluctantly set them up
overall a 4/10 for bug measures he will do it just not unless you beg
SEBEK ZIGVOLT
yells.
not in fear, but in anger because how DARE such a miniscule thing try to terrify the people he cares about?!
doesnt explode it like malleus
but strikes it with lightning.
yk his dorm card groovy? thats what hes doing to a little centipede.
expects you to praise him for protecting you
sure, its a given that he would, but he would very much so appreciate your thanks, and maybe a head pat or smthn
give him one.
now.
FLOYD LEECH
like trey, he lets the bug free
sometimes.
other times he kills it and chases you with the corpse
or keeps it alive and chases you with the living bug
if you REALLYYYYYYYYYY dont like bugs, like straight up sobbing, freaking out, then he wont but otherwise? have fun bro
someone has to seperate you two when you see a bug, because he will do something
sometimes if he's feeling generous he wont do anything and you'll be like "tf? what did you do to be so nice?"
"cant i just be generous towards my shrimpy?"
"no."
".....yeah i almost grilled grim thinking he was food."
"you WHAT."
all of this because of a simple bug
oh to be young and in love ----------------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!
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withwritersblock · 9 days
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More Hearts Than Mine-Their Families Find out They are Moving in Together
~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~
Author's Note: N/A Summary: Luke and Y/N move in together Warnings: Swearing, Implied Smut Word Count: 2,078 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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Luke knocked on Jack’s door, waiting for him to be granted entrance. A dramatic groan left Jack’s lips, allowing Luke to walk inside the bedroom. “So,” Luke started unsure of how to fully say what he wanted to say.
Living with his brother has been amazing, except he’s practically lived with Y/N the entire time he’s been in Jersey. He thought that now it would be time to make things official. He was added to the lease and they were planning on starting the move later this week. He has yet to tell anyone in his family about the whole idea. 
He wants to avoid talking to Quinn about it since he’s so dramatically focused on the whole it’s your rookie year don’t get distracted, a girlfriend right now probably isn’t the best idea. So telling Quinn that he was planning on living with said girlfriend, would probably cause him to implode. 
Jack, on the other hand, adores Y/N. He loved the idea of living with his brother but he also loves the idea of his little brother being happy. 
“So spit it out,” he muttered, lifting his gaze from his computer.
“Uhm, I’m moving in with Y/N this Friday,” he said, waiting for his brother’s reaction.
“That’s great, I mean you practically live there anyway,” he mumbled, shutting his computer screen. Jack’s eyes widened, “Did you tell Mom and Dad? Quinn?” he questioned. Luke shook his head. “Good luck with that,” he mumbled before opening up his laptop.
Luke stared towards Jack expectedly, waiting for him to say something about his objections. It never came. “Who’s going to be easier to tell?”
“Definitely Mom and Dad, they adore Y/N,” he explained. Luke nodded nervously. “You could also wait to tell Quinn until after the season is done. You know how he gets,” Jack said, meeting Luke’s gaze. Luke nodded as he pressed his lips together.
Luke sighed as he left Jack’s room and walked towards his room, the room that was now returning to a guest bedroom. He flopped down onto his bed as he pulled open his laptop. He began to FaceTime his Mom, hoping his Dad would be there too. Not wanting to have this conversation more than once.
It wasn’t really a conversation. It was more him letting them know what the plan was. It only rang twice before his mom answered. His dad was sitting beside her with a wide smile. “Hey honey,” his mom said as she answered the video call. 
“Hey guys, I wanted to tell you guys something,” he said nervously rubbing his hands together. Their faces both fell as his dad’s eyes widened.
“Y/N’s not pregnant is she?” his dad questioned. Ellen’s eyes widened as her mouth fell open. 
Luke shook his head dramatically, “What? No! No! Dad, I’m not stupid,” Luke said, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Both of his parents let out a sigh of relief. “I am moving in with Y/N though,” he said biting his bottom lip nervously. 
They nodded slowly, “So it’s been decided then?” his mom questioned. Luke nodded. “Are you sure, Lukey? I mean you guys are fighting for a playoff spot. It’s your rookie year, it’s a lot to handle right now,” she expressed.
Luke nodded, prepared to hear those words from Quinn, not from his mom. But in hindsight, he should’ve expected it. He looked towards the ceiling as he clenched his jaw. 
“I mean, I practically live there anyway,” he began pouting his lip, “I mean, the only time I’m back at Jack’s is when we have to travel for games. I’m never there, I’d rather have all of my stuff at Y/N’s since I’m always there,” he explained.
“Son, it may seem like it won’t be different but it will. Once all of your stuff is there, it’ll be different,”
“Good!” Luke expressed, a smile forming to his lips, “She’s-” he paused as he shook his head, “She’s the one, Dad, what’s the harm in starting the forever process now?” he asked. Ellen tilted her head back as she began to tear up. 
Jim nodded as he smiled slightly, “Alright, I can’t wait to see what you guys do with her apartment,” he said. Luke nodded his head as fought the smile on his lips.
“Don’t tell Quinn anything yet, he’s just going to get pissed,” he asked and they nodded. They spoke for a few minutes longer before he hung up. 
~~~
She sat on her bed, staring at her computer screen. She needed to tell her parents, she needed to tell them that in less than forty-eight hours her boyfriend would be moving in. Her dad may explode at the idea and she was terrified. Luke had texted her that he told his family and they approved. She quickly pressed the FaceTime button and waited for her mom to answer the phone. 
She messed with the end of her t-shirt as she waited for them to answer. After a handful of rings, her mom answered. Her dad was sitting beside her. “Hey sweet pea!” she answered excitedly. Y/N smiled nervously as he stared towards her parents through the video screen. “Oh what’s wrong?” her mother asked, her face falling instantly.
“You’re not pregnant are you?” her dad questioned. Her mouth fell open as she shook her head dramatically.
“Are you crazy!?” she asked as she took in a sharp breath. “You really think I would tell you that over FaceTime? I’m barely twenty!” she let out. They nodded, sighing. 
“What’s going on sweetheart?” her mom pressed.
Y/N took in a deep breath as she smiled softly, “I asked Luke to move in,” she muttered. Her mom’s eyes lit up with so much joy but her dad remained stoic as he furrowed his eyebrows harshly. “He’s moving in Friday,” she mumbled. 
“Oh wonderful, honey! That’s so exciting!” her mother expressed, her dad remained silent. Her mother nudged him slightly, practically begging him to say something. Instead he stood up and walked away from the couch, out of the view of the camera. 
Her mother’s face fell as she stared towards her husband walking away. Y/N’s eyes began to tear up as she watched him walk away. She clenched her fists and unclenched them as she looked towards her mom through the camera. 
“Sweetie, its just a lot for him,” she paused as she saw him take a glass and began to pour himself some whiskey. 
“No,” her dad let out grumply, “It’s too soon,” he continued, swallowing the whole glass in one swig. 
“Honey, they’ve been together almost a year, that’s a long-”
“We didn’t move in together until after we got married,” he said, pouring more into the glass.
Y/N fought the tears filling her eyes, hearing her father’s harsh tone. “And how many years ago was that? Your daughter is in love, she wants to take the next step. Stop being an ass and be happy for her,” her mother defended. 
“She’s my little girl!” he shouted back. Her mother tilted her head back. 
“I thought you liked Luke,” Y/N mumbled, her voice cracking. Her mother tilted her head to the side, raising her eyebrows towards her husband. Y/N could hear her father take a sharp breath. 
“I like the kid, Y/N, I don’t think you too should be living together. It’s too soon,” her dad said one final time before he stomped out of the kitchen and living area. 
Y/N sniffled as she wiped a tear that fell on her cheek. Her mother looked back towards her, frowning slightly. “What do I do?” Y/N asked, a sob climbing her throat. 
“You-” her mother paused, smiling kindly, “You two should move in together. Live in bliss, I’ll work on getting your father up to speed.” Y/N nodded as she met her mother’s gaze through the computer screen. “It’ll be alright, my dear, I love you. I’m going to go talk to him,” she winked towards her.
The doorbell rang throughout her apartment before it was being pushed open, “That’s Luke, I gotta go,” she mumbled before ending the call with her mom. She shut her laptop as she stood up from the bed.
She pushed open the bedroom door to see Luke walking down the hall. He had a smile on his lips, it quickly faltered into a frown as he saw her teary expression.  “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked as he quickened his pace. He engulfed her in a hug. Running his hands up and down her back as she cried into his chest. 
“My dad freaked out about us living together,” she muttered into his chest. He clenched his as he shut his eyes. 
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled as he rocked her side to side slowly. She shook her head as she lifted her head from his chest. She met his gaze.
“Don’t be, we’re going to do it,” she said, a sad smile forming on her lips. “I don’t need his approval,” she mumbled. Luke tilted his head to the side before he brushed a piece of hair away from her face. 
“Yes, yes you do. My love, I know how much your dad’s opinion matters to you,” he let out as he scanned her features. She clenched her jaw, “If he’s not ready-”
“I’m ready, I’m ready for this,” she delicately hit her hands against his chest. “He’ll come around, I need this to happen. I need to wake up to you every morning. I need to know that this is for real. I can’t know that until we live together,” she expressed. He nodded as he pulled her towards him again, hugging her tightly. 
“Okay, my love. We’ll do it,” he muttered, pressing his lips to the top of her head. She hummed against his chest. “Wanna hear something funny?” he asked, wanting to lighten the mood. She hummed again, “My dad asked if you were pregnant,” he said. She pulled away, her mouth agaped, his eyes widened teasingly. 
“My dad asked the same thing!” she said. His mouth fell open. 
“No way,” he said while laughing.
~Friday~
Jack dropped the last box into the living room and let out a heavy sigh. He stared towards the pair, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ve got two rules for you Lukey,” Jack muttered.
“Here we go,” Luke let out rolling his eyes as he pulled Y/N to his side. 
“Rule number one, never be late to anything. I’m not your ride anymore so you better show up on time and don’t make yourself look bad. Rule number two, don’t have unprotected sex; I’m not ready to be an uncle to my younger brother,” he said, a dry chuckle leaving his throat.
Luke nodded as he pressed his lips together fighting the smirk toying to his lips, “Alright, are you done?” Luke asked as he swallowed hard. Jack nodded as he rested his hands onto his hips. “Okay,” he said while nodding slowly.
“Oh,” Jack mumbled as he looked behind him before he met Luke’s gaze again, “You want me to leave?” he asked. Luke nodded encouragingly, “You don’t want me to help you unpack or you know decorate a little bit. I mean your first apartment where you are actually paying for things, I’m just checking to see if you-”
“Jack!” Luke said while he tightened his grip around Y/N’s waist. Jack chuckled as he nodded. 
“Fine,” he dragged out as he took a step backwards, “You better be at Morning skate on time, big game tomorrow,” he mumbled as he quickly walked out of the apartment. 
Soon, Luke and Y/N we're alone in their apartment. An apartment they share, just them. It was bliss and it was everything they had wanted. Sure, it was her apartment but now it was theirs.  “So what do you want to do first?” she asked, staring towards the collection of boxes scattering their living room.
She met his gaze, his eyebrows were raised as he was fighting off a smirk on his lips. “Oh,” she let out while smirking. “Okay,” she muttered as they leaned towards one another kissing each other with so much intensity. She jumped into his arms as he took a hold of her thighs, guiding her backwards towards their bedroom.
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