#and I once wrote the line

[softquietsteadylove]

Be Mine

Thena woke to the feeling of something fluttering against her cheek. It wasn't Gil's hair, or his hand, or his shirt against her cheek as she laid her head on his chest. She blinked, finally opening her eyes against the Australian sun. She was covered in rose petals. The whole bed was. They didn't even grow roses in the garden.

The Warrior Eternal sat up, looking around the room. There were bushels of plenty of other flowers around, from sunflowers to azaleas. When Gil had time to do this, she had...well, perhaps she had some idea. The night before had been...

Thena stood from the bed, slipping Gil's shirt on, which he kindly laid out for her every morning. She knew he had heard her get up, by this point, but she padded through the house silently, following the trail of flower petals towards the haven of the kitchen.

They weren't scattered sparsely--every step she took was more rose petal than wooden floorboard. The smell was light, telling that they had been spread out much earlier. "Gil?"

"In here, Sweetheart!"

A soft smile came to her at the pet name. He was feeling particularly good this morning, if he was using cute terms of endearment for fun. She didn't mind it.

It had taken her by slight surprise when he first started using them. It was just here and there, but one day she had asked him about the 'Sweetheart's and the 'Darling's. He had apologised and promised not to. She was the one who insisted that if he wanted to, then she wouldn't stop him.

Gil was already plating up a beautiful breakfast with a wide smile on his face. He looked at her like there was no sun in the sky at all--just her. "Hey."

"Hey," she smiled, still but accepting as he came over and greeted her with a kiss. He really was feeling particularly elated this morning. "What's all this?"

"Well," he grinned at her as he pulled out her chair for her and pushed her in and everything. "It's February 14th, my love."

Oh, yes. Western civilisation had concocted some holiday or another for the day around the 15th century?--or was it the 14th? Either way, she never bothered to keep track of all these newer holidays. "I see."

"So, I was wondering," Gil turned, pulling out yet another bundle of flowers, this time white lilies stuffed into the water pitcher. He presented them to her on one knee, just as handsome and charming and lovable as the first moment she laid her eyes on him in deep space. "Will you be my valentine?"

Thena smiled impossibly wide, a featherlight laugh floating up and out of her. The dust in the air turned into sparkles and she shook her head at him. "We have been out here - married! - for centuries. Are you truly asking?"

"Yes!" he insisted, because Gil liked doing things like this. He liked making romantic dinners just as much as he liked making dinners on hard days, and perfectly ordinary days. He liked picking flowers for her and he liked telling her she was more beautiful than every star in the sky. He scooted closer, pushing the lilies into her hands and resting his on her bare knee. "So?--what do you say?"

Thena set the lilies down so she could use both hands. She held his cheeks, tilting him up so she could kiss him with all she had. She could kiss him like they didn't need air, because they didn't (not as much as a silly human, at least). She could kiss him like she never had to let go--like it was just the two of them in the whole world.

Gil let her pull back, both of them smiling against each other's lips. His hands ran over her back, over the linen of his shirt. He settled his cheek against her palm, where it rightfully belonged. "That's a yes?"

"Yes," she laughed, kissing him again for good measure. She sighed at the taste of his delicious food already on his tongue. "What a terrible wife I am, forgetting such an occasion."

"Oh, come on," Gil rolled his eyes, blushing at her way of pointing out how sweet she thought it was that he did things like this.

Thena feigned a woeful, maidenly sigh. "What ever shall I do for my poor, beloved husband?"

"Mm, I don't think anyone would feel bad for me," he pointed out as he sat next to her, waving his fork up and down at her, "when my wife is this beautiful."

Thena took her time dismissing his sweet talk. She poked her fluffy eggs before taking a bite, "you mean after last night?"

Gilgamesh blushed.

"I could shower you with all the flowery compliments you gift me," she suggested, also in a playful mood after such a sweet gesture (and after that kiss).

"I told you, Sunshine," he freely claimed one of her hands for himself as he shovelled a bite of eggs into his mouth. "When I say 'em, they're true."

Thena's eyes drifted down to her fork in her hand, allowing his flattery just for the special occasion. Gil would describe her smile as small and shy, which she would argue it wasn't. The Warrior Eternal had no shyness to her.

Gil happily leaned forward as his wife held up a bite for him on her fork. He would always accept any small gesture of hers, because they were her way of expressing all the things he put into words. They were her form of flowery compliments and flirtations and pet names. And he loved every one of them.

Thena finished her bite and stood, kissing him on the temple before leaving the table. "Finish your breakfast. Then come find me."

Gil blinked as she pulled her hand out of his. He could complain about it, but he was curious as she started waving a blade around--her way of sweeping up the petals from the floor. "Baby?"

"Leave the dishes, my Sweet," she called back, maybe caught up in his sappiness. She picked up the pile of collected petals on her way to the bathroom.

Gil heard the tap for the bathtub squeak on. He tossed back the rest of his food and all but threw the plates into the sink to be taken care of later. He loved cuddling her in the bath, and she knew it. "I'm on my way!"

[francy-sketches]

rhaenyra could say 'I wish I was a man with dick and balls' and hotd twitter would still be like 'umm she just means she wants freedom and respect but otherwise she is a FEMININE WOMAN stop making her into a man you weirdos'

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Promises

written for @steddiemicrofic

prompt: one || wc: 1,111 || rating: T || cws: hurt/no comfort, cheating, custody and divorce, panic attacks, child tantrum

Thanks to the lovely @carolperkinsexgirlfriend for the edits!

“Max, go get your stuff.” Steve’s voice comes out sterner than he means to, but he’s exhausted after a long day of running errands. He doesn’t want to stand in the middle of his ex’s entryway and try to explain to their ten year old why her weekend with Daddy is over.

“But Dad,” she whines, “why can’t I stay overnight at Daddy’s again?”

“No, Max, ok? I’m sorry, but you have school and you still have homework to do. Now can you please go pack up? Auntie Robin is in the car waiting for us.”

She grumbles, holding back tears. “Why can’t I stay here? I want to live here and sleep here and Daddy can take me to school. Dad, I promise I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, stepping into the living room with Max’s bag over his shoulder. He squats down in front of her. A bittersweet smile wobbles underneath his scrunched up nose, and Steve can tell he’s barely keeping it together. “We don’t want to keep Dad waiting, alright? He’s tired, just like you, and you’ll both sleep better in your own beds, right?”

Max throws her small arms around Eddie’s neck and buries her tear-stained cheeks into his messy hair. He squeezes her tight, and Steve sees his body heave with a shake that Eddie tries to pass off as a sigh.

Steve’s resolve starts to crumble. He turns his back on the scene, pretending he can’t hear their quiet declarations of love and promises of next time. Pretends he doesn’t know Eddie’s looking up at him, silently pleading for forgiveness. A look filled with all the empty words Steve’s heard before.

“I miss you,” Max cries “I want you to come home.” A tear slips down Steve’s cheek and he quickly wipes it away.

“I miss you too, Honey.” Eddie chokes around another sob. “But Daddy’s going to stay here for a while, ok? I know it’s hard but everything’s gonna be alright, I promise.”

Steve coughs, hopelessly trying to dislodge the lump clogged in his throat. Except Eddie takes it as a cue of impatience. He doesn’t say anything though, just stands and guides her to the door where Steve’s still pretending not to notice.

“Come on Max, let’s go home.” 

“No.” Max says, voice hard with conviction. “I’m not going home with you. I’m staying here with Daddy. Forever.”

“Max,” Steve responds, trying to match her tone, “I’m done arguing about this, we need to leave.”

“Why is Daddy even staying here?” Her face and neck are painted with angry red splotches, and Steve can spot a tantrum bubbling up. Normally, gentle understanding and praise calms her down. But how can he even begin to answer her? How does he explain to her that her Daddy hurt him beyond repair? 

The only consolation Steve got on the worst day of his life was that Max wasn’t home to watch her Daddy stumble in through the front door sobbing at nine in the morning, reeking of booze, stale cigarettes and strange lavender perfume. At least she didn’t have to listen to Eddie’s desperate apologies between bouts of vomiting, or Steve screaming at him to get out while he threw Eddie’s acoustic down the stairs.

Steve loves his little girl, so of course he won’t tell her the truth. He’ll even lie to her, no matter the consequences, to make sure nothing taints her relationship with Eddie. He’s always been an amazing father, and what happened doesn’t change that.

She starts shouting again. “He should live at home with us! Why don’t you let him come home, please? Dad, I swear I’ll do anything you want!” 

Thankfully she’s facing Steve, because he looks past her at Eddie, who’s soaking his sleeves in tears. Steve’s watched Eddie cry more in the past three months than he has their entire marriage.

“No, honey, please let’s just talk–”

“No, I hate you! I hate you! I wish I lived here with Daddy instead of you!”

She quickly turns around, snatching up her pack from the floor where Eddie had placed it. Steve’s head rings with the violent slam of the door closing behind her. His mind’s filled with static, and he wonders how his life came to this.

Since he kicked Eddie out, Steve’s constantly reminding himself that he made the right decision. He’s been cheated on in almost all of his relationships, and he always gave them a second chance. Everything would go back to normal for a while before the relationship eventually soured, leaving him devastated. 

He refuses to keep giving people who hurt him another chance.

If they really loved him, they wouldn’t have hurt him. If Eddie really loved him, he wouldn’t have been tempted.

Eddie vowed to love Steve, and only Steve. Forever.

A lie. Another broken promise.

But now her words leave Steve cut open and bleeding out in the middle of his ex's new apartment. He collapses under the weight of it all, knees buckling to the floor. As the panic sets in, he’s wrapped up in a warm embrace, ringed fingers combing through his hair and soft shushes in his ear. 

They fall into routine. Eddie tells him when to inhale and exhale, a hand gliding up and down his back. Steve climbs further into his lap, seeking an old comfort he’s yet to replace.

“Angel, you know she didn’t mean it.” He tries so hard to whisper, but Eddie’s voice cracks around the nickname and there’s tears on the back of Steve’s neck. “We’re not our parents. Even if– though. Even though we aren’t together, we’ll still love and support her no matter what. You’re the best dad, Angel, I promise.”

Steve catches the golden shine of Eddie’s wedding band as it passes across his forehead. The image of his own matching silver band stuffed in the back of his nightstand makes him feel sick.

“You’ve always been good to us,” Eddie continues. “We’re so lucky to have you. We– she loves you so much, Angel.”

He wonders if tonight, like every night, he’ll slip the ring as he lays in bed. Or if he’ll be able to fall asleep without dusting his pillow with a small puff of Eddie’s cologne. 

Steve misses him– misses them. They’re supposed to be a family.

Nuzzling his nose into Eddie’s neck, he inhales deep and greedy until the lightheadedness leaves him tingling. Shaky lips press against the top of Steve’s head on a ragged exhale, as the soothing hand in his hair tightens, holds him in place. 

Steve cries and wonders if he could survive one more second chance.

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

behold, I am back with another bokris fic:

enjoy my dear friends :)

[wickjump]

grrr cross whump… grrrr making him suffer… grrrr giving him extreme amounts of injury and blood soaking his bones… grrr…

[bacchuschucklefuck]

tbh one of my soft goals when writing class swap baron is to aim for a no-stan quota. it will be a futile attempt but one is not at leisure to abandon the great work

[change-the-rules]

oh Wait A Second

Hang The Fuck On

Ive Got Another Thing Actually my beloved eloise Also came up with the dumbass plan to claim to be whistledown when she was backed into a corner by the queen it was a stupid plan then same as it was for cressida

the difference being eloise was confiding unwittingly To whistledown who immediately did everything in her power to shut that shit down for obvious reasons

ELOISE WAS IN DAMN NEAR THE SAME POSITION AS CRESSIDA WAS

at least in terms of personal desperation and impending doom closing in like for the love of fuck no one else could have possibly been in a better position to if not help then at the very Least EMPATHIZE

if everything went exactly as it had but *before* the dropping of the 'friendship soured' Out of Nowhere eloise had tried to comfort or reason with cressida Especially from this VERY RIDICULOUSLY SPECIFIC AND NICHE common thread but nuture and fear won out and cressida still went ahead with her ill-advised gambit?

and their friendship imploded accordingly

I would Not be nearly as annoyed as I am now because hey I like angst WHEN ITS GOOD STORYTELLING like damn

IT WAS RIGHT THERE Y'ALL ELOISE LITERALLY EXPERIENCED IT SHE HAD THE SAME THOUGHT WHY DID NO ONE USE THAT

[sunmisbf]

baby we 2 distant strangers i know u don’t speak my language but i love the way ur talking to me

[feline-evil]

Dick or no dick confirmation Pickles was always going to be trans to me anyways; if he's swingin' somethin that's phallo babes, if he's not then his t-dick fat. What's not to get.

[alagaisia]

I’m going to say it. I think Moses is going to win the tanakh sexyman bracket.

It’s all fun and games voting for trees and rocks and background characters, but even aside from the picture chosen, I can’t imagine *not* voting for Moses. I don’t care if he’s a sexyman or not. Like. That’s my guy. It’s him! It’s a silly little tumblr poll and I am not very religious at all but he is the main guy. To me. I’m sure all these other stories are just as important rabbinically speaking and in terms of like creating and protecting the Jewish people. But my dad did not read them to me every year at Passover while we all participated in Rituals™️!

And I have to imagine others feel the same way since he’s cleaning up right now with 75% while everyone else’s polls are closer together.

[skunkes]

unsure how to word this but there is something about having ocs with unsavory events happening in their past where it's like. talking about it, even when asked, seems almost gratuitous and inappropriate. and i'd much rather describe it through the oc themself and/or draw Them saying it. which is like. fitting for the subject matter? like of course its weird to talk about somebody else's business...!

and falls back into humanizing em/exploratory writing and development where u consider the impact of words said/words unsaid/HOW those words are said etc etc

[marlenacantswim]

are we sure Shaun and Russell aren't related?

Danger! 50,000 Zombies (2004) / Shaun of the Dead (2004)

[p1x1x]

me pushing myself further with my art drawing really cool perspectives and whatever with the Duo and then i turn around and make lame cutesy ship art waaahhah 😭😭😭

dont read the tags on this if you havent watched gbc i just ramble spoilers 😭 just uhh screaming yknow. mostly mmnn but i like the other characters i swear its just these guys are making me insane

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

the doctor as narcissus the master as echo

[sysig]

Party (group) party (celebratory)! (Patreon)

[paigemathews]

There’s always gonna be something about the inevitable tragedy in Chris’s story that gets to me. No matter what happens, there will be a devastating loss that cannot be altered, cannot be changed, cannot be fixed. If he doesn’t remember, it’s the erasure of a fiercely loyal and determined witch who sacrificed more than his life but his very existence to save a world he never saw. If he does remember, he’s of two different worlds that cannot exist together at their core, costing him an entire world of people he can never get back. There is no uncomplicated happily ever after for him and it will always be a bittersweet ending at its happiest. In the end, success encases a profound amount of loss that even magic can’t touch.