Tumgik
#cross-posted
Text
Love is Inevitable
Cross-posted to my original writeblr, Rusted Dreams Stories Posted here because I think more people see me here, but please consider giving my writeblr a follow / reblog from there. One of those "Humans are Space Orcs" "Humans are Weird" type of stories, only instead of admiring us for our physical-endurance abilities, an alien species admires our emotional resilience.
Love is Inevitable  In the ages since contact had been made with the Earth and the human species, the other rational races of the Pan-Galactic Alliance had their various reasons for either abhorring or admiring them. A great many of the peoples admired Humanity for their general physical endurance – the ability to recover quickly from wounds and to withstand conditions that would kill a great many beings.  However, the Mhrr’ah held them in awe for a very different kind of endurance.  First contact between the two species was a bit awkward because humans could not help but compare the Mhrr’ah to a certain kind of pet animal they kept.  “Kitty!”  - They resembled bipedal cats save for the small horns upon their heads, longer, boxier faces and notable biological differences such as reproduction through eggs.  In turn, the Mhrr’ah compared humans to the golb, a small, bald, purplish-colored animal they kept as friends, although they were arguably more pig-like or doggish. Their respective choice of pets, strangely, was what had started conversation which led to the Mhrr’ah thinking of humans as particularly tough.  The Mhrr’ah were rather appalled that humans kept companion animals that did not match their own lifespans.  They were even more confounded by the ability of human beings to pick up and keep working and living after the loss of kin.  The Mhrr’ah were highly emotional beings. As soon as they had grown, they tended to part ways with their parents, but stayed in touch with their clutch-mates.  They formed attachments with mates and friends of similar health-status and age (and they did live long, by the human reckoning) so as to maximize the likelihood of a life together.  Most forms of conflict on their planet were a distant memory of ancestral forms because of this peculiar type of empathy.  If one Mhrr’ah in a friend or family group died, the rest of their strong attachments was sure to follow.  It was almost unheard of for one to lose a life-mate and not to have their own body shut down in pure despair within months of the event.  Conversations with humans brought up widows, those who had lost brothers, best friends, parents and animal companions time and again.  Humans spoke to them of Stages of Grief and of the ways they’d sought out each other to support themselves through it.  They spoke of ghost stories and mythical lands of the dead where some hoped to be reunited someday with those they’d loved.  The Mhrr’ah, who did not understand how one could fall, but not the others in one’s chosen circle would bow their heads in salute to the resilient human explorers and tradesmen they’d met if they ever had a sad story.   And that is to say nothing of other tales the humans told them – the loss of homes, the loss of friends though things other than death, various mental breakdowns that they could recover from.  This, to them, was far more impressive than any physical endurance that humans ever had.  The Mhrr’ah were a people who were careful to keep to small circles and careful to keep themselves safe. They tried to distance themselves from forming friendships with humans even as they’d formed partnerships of mutual benefit simply because they knew that humans felt strong emotions, too, but were shorter lived than they were.  A human might keep a Mhrr’ah in their memory if they’d loved and lost a friend, but a Mhrr’ah would not be capable of it for long.  In the end, they’d even formed attachments with pets knowing that they would outlive them by many spans.  When asked, the humans said something that resonated with all Mhrr’ah.  “We really can’t help it.  Love is inevitable.” 
183 notes · View notes
rippersz · 11 months
Text
𝒯𝑜 𝒫𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃:
Tumblr media
(A Larissa Weems x fem!reader fanfic) (Part 7)
(Part 6) (Part 5) (Part 4) (Part 3) (Part 2) (Part 1)
★☆★﹒☆★☆﹒★☆★﹒☆★☆
Larissa.
Larissa.
Larissa…
It was Greek.
Larissa.
Originating from the nymph daughter of Pelasgus. Or the city in Greece - meaning ‘citadel’.
Larissa.
She was kind of like a citadel, wasn’t she?
Larissa…
As tall as a tower spire… unyielding and fierce… glowing in honorable brilliance. Noticeable from so far away - like a glimmering star caught in midnight’s grasp, suspended within the sky and beckoning attention like a moth to flame.
And since she was the flame, you were the moth. The mindless devoted little creature that sought her warmth for no more than a moment before falling prey to her heat. Finding yourself endlessly mesmerized by all things her- by all things Larissa.
And of course, right after getting the chance to properly meet her, the universe decided to punt you out of a window and stomp on your pathetic little broken body.
‘Hah! Suffer, bitch!’ The heavens cackled before keeping you away from your new muse and making life at work far busier than it usually was.
There were times in the past where that happened- when work became ‘too much’ and you’d return home with paint stains on your clothing and designer bags under your eyes. Unfortunately, being the assistant to a very important modern-day artist could do that to a person - but you didn’t expect everyone to know that. You certainly didn’t expect Larissa to know that - Which is one of the reasons why you were panicking. Did she visit the station while you were gone? Did she sit there and wait for you as you had done in the past and assumed that you were no longer interested? Did she think you were crazy and only watched her until she introduced herself and then decided to run off somewhere else? Did she hold a grudge? Was she waiting for you at that exact moment? When the train doors opened, would you see her there? Sitting on the bench and minding her own business until her own train arrived? Would she say hello to you? Would she glare, thinking you had started avoiding her? Oh god what if she started avoiding you? What if she decided that your hot and cold way of acting (even though your absence wasn’t planned) was just too annoying to interact with? What if she started sitting on the other side of the platform again? What if she didn’t want to talk to you anymore? What if she just wanted to return to being strangers?
That last thought weighed heavily on your shoulders as you felt the train slow down.
Only a week - a week! - without seeing her and you felt as though you were going mad. Yes, you had spent time apart in the past but when that happened, she was the one who had disappeared. And you had been left to look at the spot across from you, forlorn and silly and desperate for her return. Now, she was the one waiting - if she even bothered to do so at all. Hell, you wouldn't blame her if she had walked off and tried to erase you from her memory forever. After all, you had only one conversation, and she spoke 90% of the time, and the rest of the time you spent staring and trying to act normal, so really it wouldn’t be shocking if you never saw her again.
Ping!
Such thinking saw you leaving the train with a frown on your face and a slump to your shoulders. The more you thought about it, the more your heart ached; because technically you and Larissa were still strangers. Just because you knew her name didn’t mean anything. And just because you had never ever seen anyone so angelic- (and just because you didn’t think anyone more angelic than her even existed out there)- didn’t mean anything. Because at the end of the day, like every other day, she was still just Larissa and you were still just you. And that’s why she’d never wait for you on that bench, holding her purse, watching the crowd with searching eyes.
Or…
Or perhaps…
Maybe… she would?
Once you finally stepped onto the platform and chanced a glance up so you didn’t trip and fall over yourself like an idiot, a flash of white to your left caught your attention. It was so quick, so rapid, flitting in and out of the bustle of people, that you thought for a good moment that it wasn’t anything at all. But the second everything cleared and you walked closer to ‘your’ bench, intent on catching your breath and sitting for a moment, the sweetest of plot twists struck like lightning.
There was Larissa, your own darling stranger, scanning the crowd and sitting so politely with her purse in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankles. Never in your life had you reacted to seeing a person in the same way you did in that moment. It was like you were an empty bottle and that brilliant star of a woman came over and poured sunlight into your plastic emptiness and gave you a renewed sense of existence. It was like the world had finally turned around and gifted you something strong and hopeful and worth keeping. Like it was saying ‘Here. It’s tentative and strange and hesitant right now, but we both know you have nothing left to lose so just take the opportunity and go with it.’ And you, who couldn’t pass up a chance to finally feel a connection with someone again, picked up the pace and started waving to get Larissa’s attention. As you did, a small smile began to tug at your lips so suddenly- so unconsciously- that it took you a moment to register why your face felt so strange.
It was because you were smiling- no, grinning- at the mere sight of her.
And once she finally met your gaze and registered that your waving was for her, she grinned back in reply.
To anyone else, the exchange would seem quite heart-warming. ‘Awww old friends,’ they’d think, ‘Reuniting after some time apart.’ Or maybe they’d assume, ‘A family friend picking up a relative. How cute.’ Or- or- ‘Girlfriends. Definitely. Girlfriends that are clearly very excited to go home and live their combined romantic lives together.’ As you approached Larissa with a bounce in your step and flush to your cheeks, that last thought had your heart racing.
If only…
“Hi,” you breathed, a bit out of breath, as you came to a stop at her side.
Instantly, Larissa shuffled over for you to take a seat. The small action was full of such familiarity that it nearly overwhelmed you.
“Hello. Long time, no see,” she turned to you, raising an eyebrow.
Clearly she had questions- but you were much too focused on something greater, like seeing her again. Goodness it was like every time you had the immense earthly pleasure of setting your eyes on her once more, the life was knocked out of your body. How could someone be so glorious? How could the blue of her eyes be so deep? So never-ending? So lovely that all you wanted to do for the rest of your life was become lost in them? Had anyone ever even informed her of how enchanting her eyes were? Or how dangerous? Or how unspeakably beautiful? You felt compelled to do so in the moment- it was really balancing on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be blurted out and cause embarrassment- but Larissa beat you to the metaphorical punch.
“I figured it was my time to wait, since you did the same for me so patiently last time.” Ah. There was that teasing tone you had missed so desperately. It didn’t fail to bring a giggle to your throat that made you feel like a high schooler again as you nodded and shrugged sheepishly.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry. Work got super busy out of nowhere and I was coming home at crazy hours. It wasn’t intentional, I promise.” There was an urgency to your voice that you simply couldn’t get rid of; like you needed her to know as soon as possible that you would never not want to see her; that you would rather cut your own arm off than miss a day of getting to know her. After all, similar to fruit flies, once you got a taste you couldn’t stop.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Larissa soothed. “I understand the pressures of work quite well. I only hope you weren’t too stressed?”
Her worry was like a balm on your raw soul.
“Well… I mean it sucked but I think everything’s calmed down now. I’m sorry to leave you so long,” you gave her a small smile and tried desperately to hide the shine in your eyes.
“What have I said about apologizing? You have nothing to worry about- it’s only right that I return the favor of waiting,” she replied with a smirk painting her red lips.
The sight of it brought a strong flush to your cheeks.
The favor of waiting… of course. She knew you had been sitting there like an idiot for however long, watching her from across the way, yearning stupidly. Well the yearning part you had yet to confirm, but the glimmer in her eye whispered things she knew about you that even you didn’t know. It was exhilarating - it was terrifying.
“Right, well thank you. For- waiting. Very sweet of you,” you inclined your head in thanks and fiddled with the strap of your purse.
“Mmm, I only wish I knew who I was waiting for,” the lilt in her tone had you looking up.
She rose an eyebrow as a smile painted her fair skin; showing off the cutest bits of crows feet as she teased you.
Right. You never told her your name. Ugh. Stupid. You’d been rolling her beautiful name around in your head for days and she had absolutely no clue who you were. The thought of her sitting there, unsure of the person she was waiting for, made you frown. But of course, like many awkward encounters, it could be remedied. So you held out your hand, straightened in your spot, and smiled.
“My name is Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The humor in her expression made a fresh burst of smug excitement explode within you. You had a feeling she would like that little display. And when the slide of a leather glove kissed the soft skin of your paint-stained palm, you cheered internally. Such boldness wasn’t something you exuded very often- your racing heart could attest- but it felt worth it around Larissa. After all, your moments together were fleeting. You had to take whatever chance you could while you were still privy to her sweet existence.
“Likewise. Thank you for keeping me company, Y/N,” Larissa’s grip was perfect - not too tight and not too loose and just right in a way that made you want to hold her hand for forever.
“Of course.” It was the only thing you thought to say.
There was more on your mind, sure, but everything else was so hard to phrase. How could you tell the new strange object of your affections that, although you barely knew her, meeting her had changed your monotonous routine and thus, made you want to live again? How could you tell her that her existence had opened up a locked room in your heart and introduced you to the prospect of love once more? How could you say anything of substance, or admit anything at all, when the only thing you knew about her was her first name and what you saw on the outside? For gods’ sake, she could be a serial killer! A very well-dressed serial killer with amazing manners and lovely hair, but a serial killer nonetheless. Or, she could have intense anger issues - to the point where she was dangerous. There was nothing inherently wrong with that, as long as one recognized their behavior and worked to fix it, but still. More often than not, The Devil showed up draped in white silk. And you knew for a fact that Larissa totally wore pearl colored silk. Or eggshell colored silk. Or ivory colored silk. Or vanilla colored silk. Or even-
“Do you paint?”
Her lyrical accent blinked you out of your stupor. Glancing around, you saw instantly what had caught her attention. There were smears of pinks and greens along your knuckles and fingertips – creating a little landscape on your skin that you watched Larissa’s sapphire eyes trace with curiosity. It brought a bashful smile to your lips.
“Yes- well- no? Yes. It’s complicated,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes when Larissa let out a small twinkling giggle.
“Care to explain?”
You were sure the surprise in your gaze caught her off guard just as much as her interest did you.
See there was one thing that not many people mentioned when regarding loneliness. When your heart finally decided to leap back into humanity’s pool of fish, adjusting was terribly difficult. You floundered for a bit and lost your ability to swim and your gills had closed up and your webbed fingers were stiff. It was as though you had to never known how to speak in the first place, and interacting with others suddenly became the most challenging thing to do in the history of ever. So when someone came along and showed interest and asked you questions and looked at you as if you were truly noticed, the brain sort of… paused. Like the programming was so old and so covered in dust and isolation that you had to go through quite a bit of time searching for the file that said ‘Accepting Positive Interest’ before you could even hope to respond. And by that point, when you had finally caught up, the other person was worried that they had said something out of turn and honestly- really- it all became a big mess of bubbles and fish and grass and stumbling minds and outdated source codes.
And because you had spent so long by yourself, trying hard to ignore the fact that your heart was slowly cracking within your chest as you laid asleep alone at night, the same damned thing happened to you. Larissa’s eyes, flickering with light worry, looked between your own until you finally shook your head and cleared your throat.
“S-sorry, I just don’t- I don’t really get out much so um- anyway, yeah I used to paint but not anymore. I prefer drawing. This is just from my job, I’m an artist’s assistant so stuff like this happens all the time,” the words poured out of you like a backed up waterfall finally reaching full capacity - spilling out of your mouth and bringing an embarrassing hunch to your shoulders as you turned your left hand over and showed her the paint on your palm. You couldn’t meet her eyes.
It was silent for a moment before Larissa let out a thoughtful hum and reached forward, dragging the tip of her right index over a particular swirl of colors. Baby blue, forest green, and a white blotch. You tilted your head, curious as to why she pointed out that spot when there were so many more interesting ones - like the magenta on your ring finger, caked beneath your nail - and the black from a messy paint tube that you accidentally pressed the side of your hand against - and the twitch in your fingers as she drew a sweet little circle over and over in the same spot.
“This bit here looks like a flower,” she mused beneath her breath, making you instantly stomp down a shiver that tried to worm its way into your body.
You glanced at her for a moment, once again committing the shape of her face to memory, before looking back to where she was focusing and coming to the conclusion that she was right: it did look like a flower. A very strange abstract flower that could possibly make for a killer design if one used the right medium to portray it. You couldn’t help but nod and agree with a small hum.
“I get paint all over myself constantly - which is surprising because I’m not even that clumsy. It just happens,” you shrugged.
Larissa pulled back after a second and made eye contact with you. Goodness that glimmer in her eyes… it was dangerous to anyone who had a heart.
“Are you certain you’re not clumsy?” And she glanced down at your hand for a split second before looking up again.
And the sheer comedic timing of her expression, and the judging lilt in her voice, made you giggle quite loudly - to the point where you put a hand over your mouth and forced your laughter to die down. She had joined in too, chuckling softly beneath her breath. It was such a pretty noise… you wanted to bottle it and keep it with you forever. Like a siren’s call, hypnotizing and entrancing. You were sure that that very second marked the moment you’d forever try to make her burst out into cackles. Everyone had it in them, you knew she did too. And you were nothing if not determined to hear such unrestrained joy one day. But until then, you’d settle for a small shared chuckle and a bright white-toothed smile.
“Are you always this sassy to your train station companions?” You rose an eyebrow.
“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “though it’s not often I meet one so indiscreet.”
And cue the flush that was bound to return at some point. It flooded your skin, making your cheeks warm, and forcing your head into your palms.
“God I’m sorry for being a creep,” your voice was muffled, “You were just an interesting subject.”
“Were or are?”
You blinked, looking up through the cracks in your fingers to see her tilted head and relaxed humorous expression. Dragging your hands down your face, you sighed.
“Both, I guess.”
She hummed, looking thoughtful for a moment.
“Interesting… and it’s just like an artist to call someone a ‘subject’, isn’t it? I suppose you fit the bill quite well.”
“Oh did the paint not give it away?”
“No no, the paint said a lot - but it sounded more like a preschooler trying to hold a conversation rather than a seasoned artist engaging in their hobby.”
Her sass pulled a surprised guffaw from you.
“Jeez! Ripping me to shreds so quickly. I’m starting to think that’s the only reason you waited.” But that wasn’t true of course. You could see from her expression, and from the way she leaned into you naturally - like two close friends - that she was there for a reason. It was hard to believe said reason was you, but you were sure time would reveal all.
“I jest, I jest,” she sighed happily, holding up a hand like a white flag.
It was such a sweet little moment that you could barely believe it was happening. Only some weeks ago you weren’t aware that someone like Larissa ever existed – and then she popped up in your life like a plant blooming in Spring. Just trekking through the lavender fields of your mind before picking a spot to settle in and spread out her picnic blanket and have a cup of tea as she allowed herself to ruminate there. And in return, you were sure, you offered a break from her normal life as well. After all, it wasn’t every day that you willingly engaged in conversation with a stranger - and it had been a long time since you’d laughed like that. Safe to say, your heartbeat was off the charts and your mind was, for once, at ease; not as focused on the pressures of life. It was terribly interesting how someone you didn’t know could change you around like that.
But that was just it. You wanted to know her. You wanted to know her very badly. You had admitted that to yourself quite early on. You wanted to know her so desperately and so eagerly that before her train came and whisked her off into the ether once again, you knew you had to try and make headway. So you did. Straightening your shoulders and letting your eyes wander over the crowd, you tried hard to seem relaxed.
“So, you said you know about the pressures of work. May I ask what you do, Larissa?”
You turned your head to let her know she had your attention - but was instantly stopped by the look in her eyes. There was a quick flicker of hesitation on her face, showing in the brief crease of her eyebrows and frown of her lips, before she was nodding and answering your question.
“Yes; I’m a school principal.” She sounded quite serious, doing a complete 180 from her earlier demeanor as you sat at her side and let out an interested ‘hm’.
“Which school?” You smiled, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
She seemed quite serious about her career, and probably the privacy of her job, but you tried to seem warm and open. You were even going to say that she didn’t have to answer, but the words fell dead on your tongue as you watched a deep conflict played out behind the scenes of her mind; dancing like a candle within a jack-o-lantern, allowing bits of it to flit across her features before she schooled them once more and stared deep into your eyes. Keeping you there. Capturing you. Grasping all of your attention in her gloved hands and making you listen.
You held your breath.
“Nevermore Academy.”
★☆★﹒☆★☆﹒★☆★﹒☆★☆
The Ao3 link is in the title. Thank you for the continued support! It means the world. I hope you enjoyed this one - more to come at some point lol. - Ripley x
★☆★﹒☆★☆﹒★☆★﹒☆★☆
@machi-avelli @tanith-rhea @weemssapphic @rosieathena @jinxscatbomb @bapplenana @lvinhs @delusional-sapphic @slightlyfruity @snakeskin-world @poorwritingandstalecoffee @aphrcdtes @kimiinou @hiraethinheaven @readingtheentrails @lord6-6fandom @reariy @hidden-words-of-art @gwendolinechristieiscute
217 notes · View notes
cyggiestardust · 3 months
Text
Exhaustion.
I’m a week off my most recent nde and frankly, I’m fucking exhausted.I’ve gotten to the point where I’m afraid of consuming anything.Between the incense trigger, the soap trigger, and finding out that I am probably allergic to Depakote, I’m scared of everything now. I’m even scared of my cannabis.Isn’t that fucked? The very thing that I used to manage my anxiety, my sweet herb, the kind…
View On WordPress
3 notes · View notes
pollyna · 2 years
Text
So how should one measure pain? [Mav is away on a year-long mission, Ice falls and the sky doesn't move much. Slider's arms are always there for him and maybe, maybe, Bradley will come home this time.]
12 notes · View notes
emberglowfox · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Keeper -- a short comic about an angel meeting a robotic lighthouse keeper that doesn't know the world has already ended. Made in about 18 hours for a 24-hour 24-page* black and white comic challenge (that I arrived late to, ha.)
*the actual submission does not include the cover, which was created after the fact for this post.
This was a really great learning experience as someone who's... never really made a completed comic. I ended up really attached to the story by the end of the project (possibly due to all-nighter deliriousness lol) and ultimately am very proud of what I made.There are some things I'd still like to change, particularly text placement, but in keeping with the spirit of the challenge I've elected to leave it as is.
30K notes · View notes
yuutaguro · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
yoga with a little menace 🐈
9K notes · View notes
aceofsharks · 5 months
Text
Every time you reblog Sleepy Mars, a transphobe chokes and dies
Tumblr media
9K notes · View notes
codesquire · 7 months
Text
From my Twitter
Tumblr media
0 notes
disabled-femme · 7 months
Text
labor psa: a scab is somebody who does struck work. a scab may be a union member or not—usually not, in many industries. if you are doing work that would ordinarily be done by a person on strike, you are a scab, even if you yourself are not part of a union whose members are striking
for example, an influencer who starts doing promo work for struck companies that would ordinarily be done by actors: that is a scab
regular person going to see a movie: not a scab
annoyed addition: customer going to coffee shop whose baristas are on strike to get a coffee made by a scab: not scabbing, but crossing the picket line
6K notes · View notes
machinegrl · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
night city apartments - lot download (no cc) ★₊˚⊹
info:
residential rental
4 units = 2 apartments, 1 container home, 1 loft bedroom
NO CC (requires all packs)
30 x 30
turn on bb.moveobjects before placing
when using the pc you have to let your sim sit on the chair before clicking the computer!! they won't automatically use it if the desk is too cluttered!
t.o.u:
feel free to use however you want!
but don't claim it as yours
don't re-upload
you're welcome to tag me if you use it! i always love to see it <3
download★ gallery id: machinegr1
previews under the cut!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
artkaninchenbau · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
I need Hancock to join Cross Guild so bad
5K notes · View notes
humans-are-tasty · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
Tumblr media
"Stay with me, Arthur. Just a little longer."
4K notes · View notes
mizgnomer · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
David Tennant dancing on the set of The Giggle - Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Specials
The Doctor doesn't even dance in the UNIT scene - this is all pure, joyous David Tennant
also featuring Neil Patrick Harris, Ncuti Gatwa, and Ruth Madeley (who are all glorious)
4K notes · View notes
toastywindow · 6 months
Text
Stede and Izzy scenes cause it's actually a wholesome experience watching these two do their shit without Ed for the moment
4K notes · View notes
phillip-bankss · 17 days
Text
went to a wafflehouse with my boyfriend and while he went to the bathroom the waitress came and asked what I wanted to drink and then she proceeded to ask me what my son wants to drink
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes