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#anyway i will now go bc if not i will not Stop
galedekarios · 3 days
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gale & karlach
i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.
she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.
not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:
gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb
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Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?
but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:
act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter
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Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.
act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb
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Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.
i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.
karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:
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Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.
i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").
their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:
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Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
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Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore
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Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.
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Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.
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Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.
even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:
before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra
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Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.
she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:
karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."
she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.
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royaltozaki · 23 hours
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what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u
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failing maths, but getting the girl
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synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.
warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex
w/c: 4.0k
a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n!"
you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.
you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.
you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"
"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."
you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.
"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."
"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."
"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.
"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"
"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."
momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.
the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
“you failed.”
“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”
“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”
you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.
“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”
the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"
you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."
you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."
"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."
she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."
you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.
"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"
"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."
you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."
"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."
"oh... i guess that's better?"
"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"
"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"
"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."
you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.
your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."
"what?! you can't leave me here!"
your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"
you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.
two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.
you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.
definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.
your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.
"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.
"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.
"i-i'm sorry i-"
she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."
you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.
you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.
you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.
when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"
you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'
she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."
you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."
she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."
you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."
she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.
you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.
she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.
it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.
"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.
"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."
momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.
"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."
"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."
you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.
you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"
she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."
"wanna talk about it?"
she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."
it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."
"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"
she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."
"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"
she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."
you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"
she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."
you frown, sitting back on your heels.
"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"
"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.
you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.
you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.
you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."
you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."
momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."
you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.
"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"
she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.
"you don't need any of those things anyway."
you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.
she clears her throat, "all done."
you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.
you beam up at her, "thanks!"
she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."
you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"
she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"
you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"
she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.
once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..
"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."
"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"
momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"
"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.
"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.
"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."
you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"
"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"
"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"
"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."
you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"
she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."
you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"
momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.
"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."
"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."
you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.
momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.
"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"
"y/n..."
"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."
"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.
you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.
"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.
"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."
you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.
"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.
"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"
she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"
you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."
"y/n!"
⋆。°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗
momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.
you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.
you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.
you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?
you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.
you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"
momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.
that was hot.
"rohypnol."
"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?
you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.
"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."
the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"
"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"
"what!? the fuck?!"
momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."
he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.
she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."
you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.
she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.
you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.
"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.
she hums lightly against you, "which part?"
"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"
she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"
you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."
her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.
you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.
you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.
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moonchildstyles · 1 day
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oh you got me thinking moonie
he’s already half-ready for work but he has to kiss her goodbye and he finds her in the bathroom still in the shirt and panties she slept in and she’s just fixing her hair like taking it out of the bun it was in and he just kinda stops in the doorframe as it falls over her shoulders and she’s still kinda sleepy smiling at him through the mirror and he walks up behind her and is just mumbling nice things to her bc she’s so pretty when she wakes up and she’s still warm from their bed and he gets her blushing and giggling kissing over her cheek before he’s palming over the tops of her thighs and kissing down her neck and then he’s got her bent over the counter and his hands are aaall over her while she’s just letting out the prettiest noises that have both of them spiralling quickly, all teeth clicking together and panting into each others mouths and he’s kissing her as she comes down, making sure she’s okay as he pulls her panties back to cover her and patting her bum and he gets her up on the counter, brushing her hair out of her face and talking to her before he actually has to finish getting ready and she’s just watching him fix his hair and spritz some of his cologne on asking “gonna have lunch with me today?” and being so smiley when she says yes and it hurts him to leave her while she’s still in his clothes, smelling like him, but he’s so happy because he gets to come home to her and there’s literally neither of them have ever wanted more and she walks him to the door, and i see them having a little dwd moment just kissing her and “bye” “see you in 3 hours” kissing and kissing and kissing until he’s blowing her a soft kiss and shutting the front door behind him and she’s just :) for the rest of the day because that’s her man!! and she lives with him!!! and i can’t get this out of my head - 🍓
no you KNOWWWWWWW how bad it gets me when they just kiss kiss kiss kiss and like moan into each other mouths and ofc its a quickie so its fast and a little hard and a little messy so when they’re coming down hes def asking if he hurt her if he pushed her hips against the counter too hard or if she needs him to stay a little longer but shes just dreamy and smiley and happy and kissing him and no im okay thank you:))))))) like they are so in love im so sick to my STOMACH!!!!!!! and I love the idea of her walking him to the door like following him out and saying bye w so many kisses and hes having to keep himself in check bc he knows he literally just came in her and now they’re having a cutesy little send off and he has an appt first them when he gets to the shop and its just SOOOOOOOO im terribly down bad honestly and blowing her a kiss as he leaves :( knowing that there just going to see each other for lunch super soon anyway:( and you know she keeps his shirt one when she goes to class like you know she does so when she sees him laters he thinking about licking her in his office w him again but he keeps a grip on himself🥸
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val-cansalute · 2 days
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summary: - a prologue of sorts - you and ellie will never be the same. the words you exchange are so deep seated and visceral, an accumulation of all the hurt. hers are telling; the love she gives is nothing like yours, nowhere near as intense, nowhere near as desperate. she’s closed off to you, and she may never be open again. she’s leaving town before it is even given a proper ending, to go on tour now that her music career is taking off. this is the end. at least for a few years.
warnings: not rlly proofread bc i ball too hard, angst with no comfort yet, dw it’ll come, ellie is dealing with trauma, references to sex.
an: every now and then i remember that alcohol exists but then i drink it and remember why i didnt drink it for ages. i hate alcohol. this shit is reaaaaally short cuz it’s just some context for the main story. it’s not really necessary to read but i wrote it anyway just because. unfortunately for me, bc whenever i start a story i get rlly anxious until its over, the next one prolly won’t be coming for a while since im gonna be travelling for a bit and i got quite a lot of stuff going on: love you guys, stay safe, never stop talking about palestine. do your clicks. :-)
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When you first saw Ellie, there were embers in her eyes - front of the pub, she didn’t even need a stage as she sang her heart out. Her captivating nature was enough to elevate her. Everyone else in the room faded to grey in the background, nothing more than a lively buzz punctuating the atmosphere. You were enraptured.
And she was too.
Hesitant glances from across the room at the same time each week, the music and the feeling was electric. The flush of her cheeks melted into the splotches of red from the sweltering heat each time she met your eyes. You sat on that same barstool; she stood in that same spotlight.
And when you started seeing each other, there were so many moments where you felt like your love for her was uncontainable. It spewed out of your pores and overwhelmed your senses every time she was near, even in spite of her soft and reserved demeanour.
It had a hold on you. Each time your lips met, it always became visceral for you, slow and sensual movements transforming into borderline aggression, tongue desperately searching her insides and tearing all the petals off the rose that was in her mouth. You wanted to consume her, suck her up and hold her in the comfort of your rib cage. She was everything to you.
And she was bound to fame. You knew it would come. She was made of stardust, and an aura so golden it would burst if confined in small town pubs any longer.
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Sometimes, you gently trace the ridged edges of the polaroid pinned to your wall and feel a pool of warmth gather inside you at the feeling of familiarity her younger face brings. Her face, back then when her eyes seemed greener, her cheeks seemed fuller, her voice seemed clearer. It’s a sick feeling: nostalgia, remembering the way your intensity felt and what it has become.
If you stare too long, you’ll watch the grainy photograph melt and churn, the hues of her skin becoming duller and sunken inwards.
The house is quiet. It’s a silence so dense, you’re almost fooled into thinking Ellie isn’t home. But she is. She’s there, like a ghost lingering in the cracks of your walls.
It feels cold, with a lingering scent of whiskey and a heavy silence that creaks in the hollows of your ears, even for the weeks at a time that Ellie is home.
Maybe it’s a sick thought to have about the woman you would give up your life for, who you would do anything for, who you love more than anything in the world millions of times over, but you prefer it when there’s a distance between the two of you these days. Playing into that constant facade of everything being okay drains you of all your worth and for no return. Ellie gave up on it a while back. It’s just you prancing away solo on that stage now, like some jester.
You’ve become a slave to it, lost yourself out at sea trying desperately to make things okay, whatever that means. She'll never talk to you about it. There’s only scraps left to hide but she clings to them like they’re her lifeblood, tearing them away from you as if you’re just some stranger. Some stranger who watches her crumble to pieces and put herself back together, like she’s a damn mix and match, each time the memories come back to surface in her mind. You beg for more, for crumbs of her resolve but she’s gone. Not coming back.
Nothing has been okay. Nothing has ever been the same since Joel died. Ellie has never been the same. That day, he left and took a piece of her with him. A piece you know you’ll never get back.
There’s no room for argument, what is between the two of you is like glue that barely sticks, so you keep yourself deathly still and hold your breath with a pounding heart and complete desperation, not wanting to ruin anything further. But there’s so much you have to say, and no time to say it.
Instead, you watch her pull further away, see her eyes become duller, notice her absence get longer, feel the sex get colder, watch everything warp and twist and writhe until you’re beyond the point of no return. Until you’re not sure you trust her, or yourself, or the concept of anyone truly loving you the animalistic and self destructive way you loved them at any point in time.
It’s lonely on that island, watching her drift away, the person you thought completed you, she felt incomplete regardless of your presence.
You know the glue has faded when she turns to face you from the foot of the bed, looking so far away as she speaks.
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"What? You're moving to LA?" She looks down at the fingers she’s twiddling, and takes a deep breath before continuing.
"Yeah, Max said it wa-"
"Well, how long?" You cut her off, already rising from the bed and moving closer. She meets your eyes but the look she gives doesn’t satiate your anxiety in any way, despite how you beg it to.
"... About that, we were thinking it might be… indefinite for now..."
Your heart stills in your chest and the blood rushes from your head. She can’t even look at you.
"Ellie. What the fuck… How are you just gonna dump this on me now? W-what about us? What are we gonna do? I already barely see you anymore,"
"I... I'm sorry but, I gotta do this. You know I do, if I'm gonna make a caree-"
Desperation takes over, your palms quivering erratically beneath you,
"Ellie… I know you care about your career, but, God, we've been together for so long. I love you so much, please don't do this to me,"
She raises her gaze to the ceiling and forces the lump down the dry, tight hollow of her throat,
"It's not forever, babe, I’ll come home.”
But you’re already shaking your head in dismissal of her blatantly dishonest words,
"You and I both know that that is not true. You’ve been desperate to go since it happened and I know I’m just an obstacle now.“
"That’s… That’s not true. I really can’t do this right now."
"You never can. And it’s because I fucking know you're not coming back, Ellie! And I'm not gonna sit around, waiting for you to call, only ever hearing about you through other people when we’ve been together for so many fucking years! I want you to be happy more than anything-“
"We can call.”
"But you fucking won't! And you're always drunk! You need to talk to me, Ellie, we're never gonna be okay if you don't!”
“I can’t be okay when I’m trapped here! All I can think about is him! I don’t eat, I don’t sleep!”
"But this isn’t gonna make anything better! We have something here! We said we would start a family together, Ellie… LA; you would never have wanted this… Okay? Joel would never have wanted this!"
She gets up and turns without a second thought at the sound of his name and your blood pressure spikes in complete desperation.
"Ellie, Ellie, please. I'm sorry. We can work through this, I promi-"
“I have to go.”
“No, you don’t! You aren’t being fair! You shut me out! You shut everyone out! I’ve been trying so fucking hard!"
"I know, and I’m fucking sorry, but I can't stay here, there's nothing left for me! I love you-"
Your voice is quiet and quivers with emotion that lulls her in, begging her to see that you need her - that she has always come first to you even if you’ve become secondary to her,
"Then prove it. Stay."
But her mind is already made up.
"… I can’t…”
You’re shaking your head,
“I have to do this.”
No, this is seriously the end.
“I'll come home."
You stop shaking your head and look at her.
“No. I can't wait around for you, Ellie, not when we’re like this. If you do this, it's over."
"That's up to you."
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The rest of the night seems blurry to you. A deep despair festers to the brim of your skull. You can’t bring yourself to move once she’s gone, can’t bring your mind to calm itself down.
But once you do, the house is plunged into the darkness you encounter. The weight of Ellie still hangs thick in the air and lingers like a whine in the creaks of cold floorboards. As you leave the house you shared with Ellie, you pass through each room, switching the light on and then off, from top till the bottom, until you reach the last.
Click,
and then you leave, once and for all.
Pass round the bend and then by the sea. Watch the waves rise and then crash into each other, right where Ellie used to plant her feet beside you.
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more pics of my cat bc she’s just so adorable 😩
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kindlespark · 2 days
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ALSO what are your thoughts on kipperlily and lucy and the idea of lucy being the one RG to refuse coming back and ALL of. that knot of Newly Unearthed Facts. bc i canNOT stop thinking about the Implications and Facets. TM
OKAY SO. my running theory is that everyone BUT LUCY dies in the mountains of chaos (perhaps her ancestral connection to ruvina saves her, perhaps her friends just know you always protect the healer). either way the rest of them all come back worshipping ankarna, and try to convince lucy to join them, which lucy agrees with but then changes her mind! which is why she hands in but then withdraws her cleric paperwork. and so Someone kills her to force her hand and make her choose.
and at first i was like, oh, this Someone is jace, because yolanda died in the same place and she was going to see him to ask about lucy. bad news for my sympathetic jace theory! but then i reread the transcripts and remembered that brennan specifies that the means of death for lucy was Multiple Assailants, while yolanda's was the same force damage as the crime scene at loam farm. which fucking implies that the rat grinders did actually kill lucy and now i can't stop thinking about it.
like, when lucy said no, were they driven into a rage? did they kill her convinced that she would make the same choice they did? at what point did they realise she wasn't coming back? did lucy reject ankarna because she saw how the rage had twisted her friends and she knew she couldn't join them? when did the "what have we done?" revelation hit, and who was the last to leave the body? (im answering that one it was kipperlilly. to me <3)
anyway yeah i have been plagued by this theory and idk if it's true or not but i've been rotating it in my mind bc it's very fun and miserable
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“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾
“I went to the gym, so I will be able to hold you up even longer” additional tags: (wrongly) assumed infidelity, miscommunication that gets resolved, this must be an au bc mickey would obv never interrupt his own sleep to leave the apartment
Mickey steps carefully into their apartment, taking great care to shut the door without being too loud. He closes it with barely a click. But nothing can prepare him for what happens next.
When Mickey turns, it’s like he’s stepped right into a 90s romantic drama, the single floor lamp clicking on to shine in a perfect spotlight, revealing where his husband is very much awake, and very much waiting for his return.
He’s sitting on the couch. Tucked up in his bathrobe and the most unimpressed frown.
“Fuck.”
“Who is he?”
Mickey glances from left to right. Behind himself. Looks at Ian again, his heart still pounding in his chest from the startle. “Who’s who?”
“Don’t gimme that.” And now Ian’s standing up, gathering his robe around himself as he prepares to fire off The Chin. “You disappear every night - yes, I noticed,” he states before Mickey can interrupt. “Bring a bag with you… Come home sweaty… I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re fucking bad at hiding this, Mickey.”
It takes a second for everything to sink in. For the endorphins from the last couple hours to start pumping upward into his brain this time. 
And… Damn.
Ian caught him.
To be perfectly honest, Mickey thought he was getting away with this shit - was being real cagey and everything too - even getting a shower in before sliding back into bed with him.
“Two hours. That enough to meet up with him and do what you gotta do?”
Meet up with who? Yeah right. “You think I can get somebody out at this hour?” Mickey asks, his confusion starting to put him on edge. “Been doing this shit all on my own. Well-... I mean ‘cept for the other handful of guys who show up sometimes…”
And the way Ian’s eyebrows rise is almost as startling as how he stops in his tracks, repeating the words back to him with dragged out intensity. “‘Handful of guys’...?”
It’s got Mickey slugging his bag off his shoulder, the dramatics of it all really killing his high. “Christ, Ian. What’re you bein’ so bitchy for-”
“What am I being bitchy for.” There he goes again, repeating shit. Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Mickey are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah - what - I was doin’ this shit for you, anyway. Thought you’d at least be excited about it.”
Oh. Fuck. Ian does not like that. “Excited?” Off comes the robe, in a flurry of angry movements. He’s running hot, and not in a good way. “Why the fuck would I be excited about my husband cheating on me!”
And it’s-...
He’s-...
Wait a second.
“What?”
“You thought you could go out every night and meet up with a ‘handful of guys’ and I’d be jumping for joy?” He sure is using air quotes like he’s having a good time with it, but no no no-
“What the-...” Mickey shakes his head, trying to clear the air because holy fuck, “I ain’t fuckin’ cheating on you, Ian - the hell?”
“You just said-” 
“Christ, you think I’m out bangin’ other dudes?”
“Wuh-...! You-...!”
Mickey rubs a hand over his mouth, everything suddenly making a whole lot of sense. The dramatics. The theater of it all. Ian was catching him coming home from the act, but ‘the act’ ended up being two very different things in their respective heads.
“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes out, going for his bag so he can put that thought immediately out of Ian’s head. “Look.”
He tugs the zipper open. Starts dumping out its contents on the floor right between them - his gym shoes - his old-ass iPod - a workout shirt - socks that stink so bad that they’re all he really needed to avoid all this. One whiff would’ve immediately made things clear.
But it’s enough now. Ian is slowly putting all the pieces together, the worry in his brow evening out and his chin returning to normal pointedness. Finally.
“You…” you says, hope returning. “You’ve been…going to the gym…?”
Mickey gestures to the pile of clothes in between them, his tone evening into something honest. “Yeah, man. Thought you wouldn’t notice once you knocked out…”
Ian eyes over everything one more time. Then slowly, his lips pull into a small pout, those eyes flicking away. “I notice every time you’re not in bed.” ‘Bitch.’ He wants to add it so bad. Mickey can practically see it trying to break through.
But he doesn’t. And there’s something so sheepish and honest and vulnerable about it, that Mickey can’t help but smile, peace returning as he stuffs his clothes and shoes back into his bag. “Fuck would I ever cheat on you for, ya dummy?”
A beat passes. Thoughts lingering. “I dunno… I just thought-...” 
“Well stop.” It sure makes a lot of sense, though. Now that he sees it through that lens. Fuck, he’d probably think the same thing if their roles were switched. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to getchya all riled up…”
“S’okay…” Ian watches as Mickey gets himself sorted. Still has a lot of questions trying to get out - he can tell. And it starts with this one. “What do you mean you were doing this for me?”
It’s the correct one - right away. And Mickey’s glad he asked, actually. Because if he must know…
The floorboards creak beneath his shoes as he steps up into Ian’s space, his muscles warmed up and ready enough to finally show off his skills. 
And when he does it - when he wrangles his giant-ass husband in and hauls him up until he's got those thick thighs straddling his waist, Ian’s startle and wide eyes say it all as Mickey slots him up against the wall - all two hundred pounds - keeping him held up in his arms.
“Been goin’ to the gym so I can lift ya,” he preens, impressed with his own strength.
Because he’s been working for this moment. For the look of sheer shock in Ian’s eyes from the rush of it - how it simmers into delight and pride and something much, much steamier the longer he holds him up.
And damn, that little breathy, impressed laugh that huffs out between them. “Fuck, Mick…”
Oh yeah. This is what all that 2am weightlifting has been for.
“You like that, huh?” Mickey grins, the atmosphere shifting familiar and fun - heavy in a good way. “This do it for ya?”
From his arms, Ian nods, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he takes a second to eat Mickey up with his eyes, those big arms wrapping around the back of his neck. 
He probably thought he was doing a decent job at hiding how hot he gets with this - when Mickey can make him feel small and moveable. 
They’re both absolute dogshit at keeping secrets, it turns out.
[ send me a smutty one-liner ]
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obsob · 1 year
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more kitties that live in my sketchbook
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von-karmas-a-bitch · 7 months
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applestruda · 1 year
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This is just one panel of the desert duo piece I was complaining about rendering
Tbh this might be all I share bc I've sort of given up on it
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daisy-mooon · 8 months
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"I want Annabeth to be blonde :(" then pick up a PJO book and read it you dumb fuck
#pjo fans stop being weird about black annabeth challenge IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#first off annabeths race isnt important to her story. annabeth could be any race. her skin colour doesnt actually impact her. her hair does#now im not blonde but im a white girl so let me explain why some pjo fans need to stfu. i have grade 9s. im called stupid for my appearance#im not insulted bc im white or bc i have blue eyes or brown hair. im insulted bc women are judged on their appearance. im insulted bc SEXIS#annabeth isnt really called dumb for being blonde. shes called dumb bc shes female. and ppl are more likely to stereotype women than men#this is especially true for black women! whatever sexism white women get is always horrifically multiplied for poc women#black hair frequently gets called unprofessional untidy unhygienic etc. its VERY likely that show annabeth has been called dumb for her hai#does this make the casting “accurate”? no. but castings don't have to be accurate. they have to ADD to the character.#annabeth being black ADDS to her character because it showcases how women (esp black women) are devalued for their appearance#movie annabeth wasnt bad for having brown hair or white hair she was a bad adaptation bc she was ooc#i just think its ironic that a core aspect of annabeth was being judged for her looks. and now show annabeth is getting judged for her look#like. you guys really missed the point here.#anyways disagree all you want but book annabeth is still blonde. no one is erasing her. theres a new PJO book w blonde annabeth SEPTEMBER 2#GO READ CHALICE OF THE GODS IF U WANT BLONDE ANNABETH OMG! adaptions and source material can be separate and coexist!#rant over sorry#pjo#percy jackson#annabeth chase#pjo show#percy jackson and the olympians#the lightning thief#discourse#shitpost#percy jackson show#pjo discourse#riordanverse
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Take me.
Note: a tiny little story to help with the drought😮‍💨
Warnings: 18+! fluff/smut.
pairing: Sihtric x you (f)
summary: you and Sihtric were reunited after a battle. 
wordcount: 653
Masterlist
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Sihtric's mismatched eyes were glazed over. His lips curled into a dazed smile while his rough, warm hands wandered your bare skin as you laid underneath him. His body weight pleasantly pressed onto you as he was positioned between your thighs. His hair was dishevelled, after your fingers had tugged his braids when you felt the warmth of his lips onto yours, kissing you intensely and deeply until he had you undressed and picked up in his arms, carrying you to the bed.
The warrior had missed you, his wife, immensely when he had been away to fight what would be unbeknownst to you both his last battle, for peace was within close range. As soon as he had returned home on horseback and his eyes had landed on you in the cheering crowd, he dismounted and allowed you to leap into his arms. You had buried your face in his neck and your fingers curled around his leather armour. Sihtric; your husband, your sanctuary and the keeper of your heart had returned to you without any grave injuries, and no more time was wasted. No words were spoken for your eyes told each other everything one needed to know, and your lips immediately locked into a fiery kiss, pouring out the happiness and relief of being reunited again.
And now Sihtric gazed down into your eyes as he was on top of you, unclothed and scarcely covered by the warm furs. His hot, ragged breath feelable on your face while his tattooed fingers tenderly brushed over your warm cheeks. He then leaned in and kissed softly underneath your ear, his tongue stroking your skin in between teasing kisses and kittenish nibbles, dragging his lips down to your pulse point. Your breath hitched when he sank his teeth delicately in your neck, marking you with his endless love while he teased your folds with his arousal, readying you to take him after being separated for far too long.
His growls sounded low and heavy in your ear, making you tremble with anticipation and desperate to feel him inside you and to be as close as you can possibly be, never wanting to let him leave you ever again. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck, inhaling his earthly scent as he lifted your leg and hooked it around his waist.
'I missed you,' he breathed in your ear and bit the soft skin.
'And I missed you,' you murmured against his shoulder, 'I love you.'
'I love you more,' Sihtric whispered, to which you softly protested.
He chuckled in your ear, and you gasped when he abruptly sheathed inside you and kept still, wanting to feel your walls clench around him. You mewled, desperately, begging him to move. But Sihtric took pleasure in hearing you beg for him and he wanted to hear more before he would give you what you wanted.
'Please, Sihtric,' you rasped, 'give me more.'
'More?' he laughed quietly, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke while he moved with slow, deep strokes, 'you want more?' he murmured.
'Please,' you begged and clawed his muscular back.
'Please,' Sihtric mocked, lovingly, 'you're so sweet when you beg for me,' he whispered and pushed hard inside you.
He stilled inside you again and hummed softly, watching you with a satisfied grin as you almost cried out for him.
'So beautiful,' Sihtric whispered, smiling, and he pecked your lips, 'so desperate for me,' he kissed your lips again, then grabbed your chin and his eyes darkened, 'I will give you more, my love,' his voice soft and playfully threatening, 'but I don't want to hear you whine that it's too much. I know you can handle me,' he murmured against your lips and chuckled again, 'mhm, and you will take me all the way, like the good and devoted wife that you are for me.'
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taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @sigtryggrswifey @skyofficialxx @djarinsgirl27 @m-a-s-h-k-a @verenahx @mrsarnasdelicious @diiickbrainn @little-diable @maii777 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dixie-elocin @elle4404 @bubblyabs @ylvie50 @succnfuccubus @hb8301 @willowbrookesblog @apolloanddaphnis
If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, message me 🖤
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bearhugsandshrugs · 4 months
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Listen. You look like you know how to handle yourself.
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unicyclingdogs · 5 months
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fairy rulie!!!! :)
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lucifer's never gonna recover from this
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mutxnts · 1 year
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don't call it a comeback, i been here for years
(flashing cw)
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ghosttotheparty · 1 year
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also on ao3
(cw: tics, bullying)
Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.
Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)
'S just a shiver, I'm fine.
He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.
It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.
The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.
They got worse.
By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.
That year, he became the freak.
At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.
He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)
His tics got worse.
In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.
Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--
So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.
No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.
He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.
And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.
Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.
He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.
He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--
But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.
And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.
Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.
Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.
The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.
Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.
When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.
This one goes here, right?
Yeah.
On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.
It's okay. It's okay.
And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.
He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.
When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?
Steve kisses him.
And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.
One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.
Steve just says, Mine too.
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