#I can’t even load the dishwasher without falling into a swoon

[thornestar]

I gave myself most of my tattoos. I had to stop tattooing years ago because of my paralysis. Now those bitches have lighter and more efficient tattoo guns and maybe I…

[thecollectionsof]

Ohhh can I request 4 please? And your choice of ship 😊😊

some of us (not naming names) has had an ao3 authors note of a day today so i only got one done. but i think this is cute so :)

lemyanka being dumbasses (affectionate)

“Pri, stop!”

Priyanka jumps, her hands flying away from the blender. The lemon-yellow blur as Lemon pushes into the room dims everything around her by comparison, though whether that’s from the bright yellow of her clothing or just her in general, Pri can’t say. 

“What? What?” She asks hurriedly, Lemon coming closer as she panics. That was Lemon’s Pri-is-a-dumbass voice, and yeah, maybe she should’ve found the lid to the blender, but she was only going to turn it on for a second. Maybe even less than that!

“You were not about to turn on the blender without the lid.” Lemon says it like a statement. Pri doesn't know how to answer that. 

“Umm… yeah. Right.” 

Lemon, ever the bullshit detector (especially when it comes to her), gives her a look. “Gimme the lid, then.”

Shit. 

She laughs, knowing that Lemon sees through this, too. “Come onnnnn, Lem. How stupid do you think I am?” She taps the counter behind her quietly, trying to find the lid to the blender without Lemon noticing. 

“You just tried to use the blender without—”

“Don’t answer that. I was just going to test it! I don’t know if it will work, it’s been ages since I’ve used it.”

Lemon’s gaze is set on the blender, so she chances a glance behind her.

She sees nothing. No lid, nothing. Really, where could it be? She had it a second ago…

Lemon huffs, turning to look at her with her hands on her hips. “It would go everywhere!”

“Not if I was fast!” Lemon just looks at her. She winces, hearing how hollow her argument is. “I can’t find it. The lid.”

“How do you manage to survive without me,” Lemon sighs, though her fond smile shatters the illusion of exasperation. Not that Pri thought she was ever actually upset with her over it—through days of dealing with a moody Lemon after a bad audition and her frustration when a gig fell through, they knew each other too well to think of this bickering as anything more than a conversation.

“Not well. I’m falling apart every day without you, Princess Lemondrop,” she swoons, just to fuck with her. Lemon scowls lovingly, somehow, but it’s so perfectly Lemon that it makes sense. 

It’s kind of true, though—there’s something different about the days where Lemon’s sprawled across the couch, her dry quips keeping her company as she finds something new to throw herself into. 

Why isn’t Lemon here every day? 

“Move in with me.”

She’s staring at Lemon, and Lemon’s staring back. “What?”

“Move in. With me?” It comes out as a question the second time, even though she’s confident that this is what she wants. “You can save me from the blender, I can make dinner after you audition. Win-win.”

The quiet between them as Lemon thinks about it is both deafening and comforting. This is the silence she could get used to if Lemon lived with her, and god does she want that to happen now that she’s realized the possibility. 

“Okay, sure. But you can’t cover our kitchen in smoothie, and you have to load the dishwasher.”

Lemon. Living with her! She’s nodding before she fully hears Lemon’s stipulations, not that they would change anything. “Yes! Yes. Sold.”

The excitement is threatening to bubble over, so she lets it. It’s not like Lemon will judge her, not in a way that matters, so she can’t help the way she dances around, pulling Lemon to clumsily (on her end, not on Lemon’s) circle around the kitchen, bouncing all the while. “We’re going to live together!”

“I’m going to live with you!”

Her smile is breaking her in half, and Lemon’s grows to match. “Togetherrrrrr,” She sings, delightedly. “Lemon and Priyanka, sitting in a tree. M-O-V-I-N-G… G.”

Lemon rolls her eyes, fondness dripping from every syllable she speaks. “Priyanka, you dumbass.”

Pri pulls them both to a stop, roughly back where they started. They’re closer to each other than they were before, but she never seems to notice it when the other person is Lemon, for some reason. “Your roommate dumbass. That’s special.” 

It’s easy to predict the eye roll this time, but it’s no less endearing. “Sure, babe. You’re special.”