#i will be crying for a million years

[gallawitchxx]

M8TE — a modern a/b/o au

M8TE is the premiere app for unmated alphas and omegas. Just enter your location and the dates of your rut or heat cycle, and you’ll be instantly paired with up to 3 potential matches in your area. Who you choose is up to you! Just be sure to tick the appropriate boxes on your profile to signal if you’re looking for a mate or a one-time thing.

M8TE. What are you waiting for?

a part of day 2 of gallavich week 2022, hosted by @gallavichthings . based on a prompt by @ianandmickeygallavich with brilliant beta work by @thisdivorce ☎️🖤

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chapter nine: MATE

rating: e

word count: 5.8k / 54k total [COMPLETED]

chapter summary: ian & mickey make the ultimate decision regarding the future of their relationship.

additional tags: au-modern with a/b/o dynamics, omega mickey milkovich, alpha ian gallagher, online dating, angst with a happy ending, internalized omegaphobia, panic attacks with some thoughts of self-harm, gratuitous smut, come swallowing, knotting, mild blood, bipolar disorder

[ read HERE on ao3 ]

ps! if you're interested in learning more about the possibilities of omegaverse, my process writing M8TE & recommendations for other gallavich a/b/o stories, check out episode 2 of @mayo-in-the-morning, which graciously had me on as their first-ever guest. & of course, check out M8TE's official playlist, curated by the goblin king himself, @creepkinginc 🖤

[spiderziege]

Mordred Manor! (with close-ups under the cut)

edit: i just put up some new drawings on my ko-fi, so if you wanna print this out as a poster or something, you can find it there at full resolution in the 'Misc Art' folder! :) (personal use only!)

[ruushes]

artisanal hand-crafted durge memes

[mrs-gauche]

Now that I think about it, there is something extremely funny about BioWare indicating that Solas had been preparing this ritual for several hundreds of years and Mike Gamble saying that he did such a shitty job with the scaffolding because he was, quote, "in a hurry" to get this done, because what that implies is either 1) He literally screwed up in the last 0,00001% of the way, or 2) Solas is actually so old that his perception of time as an immortal means that a "mere" 1000 years, to him, does in fact equate to "being in a hurry".

[campanella]

A forever spinning merry-go-round

[redhotarsenic]

DANTE IMAGE!!!! PLEASE TAKE IT!!!!!

[anna-scribbles]

one tragedy is that an ella enchanted miraculous au could never work bc ella and char are BOTH adrien😔

[thepowerofswayze]

shoes

pairing: clapton davis (2011) / gn!reader

word count: 290 [ a shorty ;( ]

warnings & info: fluff, gender neutral

summary: clapton likes doing things for you- like tying your shoes

note: can you tell the jhutch hyperfix died. please lie and say no 😩😋

☆

You were standing to the side of the hallway, books clutched in your hands, a grin making your cheeks hurt. “I can tie my own shoes, Clapton,” you said, watching as the boy dropped to one knee and tapped your leg.

“I know,” he replied. You offset your leg slightly, moving the untied shoe closer to him. “I got it though, babe.”

This was not the first time he’d done this. Clapton seemed to love doing things for you, no matter how easily you could complete the task yourself. From getting you lunch to grabbing your favorite drink before school to walking you to every class, even though it made him late. He’d most often open doors for you, dramatically shutting your car door when you tried to do it yourself, sending you into a fit of laughter as he reopened it with a flourish and a bow.

“Why, thank you,” you’d snicker fondly, taking his outstretched hand.

He’d bring the back of your hand to his lips, the action exceedingly comical when compared to his highlighter yellow tank top and basketball shorts.

Now, he was standing up, your shoe double knotted and snug. He adjusted your backpack on his shoulder, his own on the other, and held his hand out for yours. You grinned, shifting the few books in your own arms to one side and taking his hand. “You’re too much,” you said, before squeezing his hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I like it.”

Clapton’s cheeks flushed as he beamed, squeezing your hand back gently. “Yeah, well, you know,” he shrugged, embarrassment fresh and genuine as if this hadn’t happened countless times before. It made you laugh, and you pressed another kiss to his smiling lips.

[campbyler]

no worries if not! but perchance would we be able to get a wip wednesday?

#enjoy #🔪

[mariemothenjoyer]

Patty bought them the pins! :)

[sualne]

was checking my emails before going to bed only to find out my endocrinologist casually scheduled an appointment at long fucking last

[rillette]

just a warmup incident 1 dead 1 injured 

[jewvian]

I don't know what's gayer: rhaenyra crying over that old ass book page or alicent keeping that fucking old ass book page all of these years in the first place

[phantom-alpha]

since i've been meaning to learn how to draw them, today i bring to you my DMDs - Devil May Doodles, that is

(i'm sorry. once again, it was funnier in my head)

[riceisgood123]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE!!! KLANCE ARE IN LOVE IN EVERY UNIVERSE ❤️💙

[lullaebies]

If you are still taking requests, my darling, how about a blurb of Daeron coming to KL in the days before Jaehaerys' funeral and reuniting with his siblings or momma? xoxo johannawesterling. 😘

“Daeron,” his mother's voice was the first one that welcomed him in that lonely hall. The warm brown of her eyes sad, as always sad— he hated seeing it as a child, and hated seeing it now. Alicent rushed over to him to envelop him in an embrace. “My sweet boy.”

Grandsire was the one who wrote Daeron of the news. He said his Alicent’s temperament was fickle with grief, caring for Helaena’s babes. Daeron always knew his mother would hug him upon his return, but he felt a babe himself cradled in her arms. 

“Mother, I missed you,” he held her back, feeling his own throat dry. Her hunched frame, her head on on his shoulder in defeat; his brother’s coronation should’ve given her the opportunity to find joy in a respectable posture, not a reason to wither. He hears some shout from within the hall in front of him, followed by another by a different voice, both filled with fire. “Are those…?”

“Aegon and Aemond,” Alicent answers, lifting her head. “It’s been a difficult time, and yelling is all they could do.”

Daeron doubted it. He saw the hanged people by the Tower of the Hand. No, his brothers are all flames searching to consume all, as they always were. “And Helaena?” he asked. His sister has always been calm in the midst of fury, but as things are…

“They are by her door. She has not come out of her room since…” Alicent said painfully. 

Since sweet Jaehaerys had died. The funeral was due in a few days. He came for it; he has not been here for the birth of his nephew, he missed his years in this world, but he would not miss the boy’s departure from it too. But if his mother couldn’t bear to come… No. Helaena would never forgive herself if she did not come. He knew his sister, and he knew it to be true. If his brothers’ shouts were anything to go by, they were in a similar place.

Seven hells, he was too. After all this time, returning when it was all too late to help… How could he forgive himself?

Daeron always wanted to come back home in triumph.

It was a dream of his, ever since his mother sent him to squire with Lord Ormund. To come back a knight of the order, robust and reliable for his sister and mother to be proud of and his brothers to trust in. He wanted his nephews and niece to imagine him in their heads as an uncle they could count on, to become a figure his family whole could believe in.

He was lost, away from his family for too long, but Daeron knew he can’t leave his siblings alone now. He kissed his mother’s cheek, and went ahead towards his brothers.

“After all these years, you think you can preach to me about restraint?” Aemond’s eye flashed like a dagger. He grew much taller, taller than their older brother. Aegon, on the other hand, had not grown much since their teens, and he had been hunched as it is. With a pale face, bloodshot eyes and clenched fists he had not seemed any less fiery.

“When it is all your fault, you cunt? Yes I can.” Aegon replies venomously.

When they were young, Daeron was always lost when they fought. He could rise up together with them against Rhaenyra’s boys, but when they trifled with one another, he always found himself a bystander, staying by Helaena until the storm calmed. Alas, Helaena was in the room in front of them, and from within he heard soft sobs. His mother steps forward to intervene between them, but Daeron stops her, and walks to them instead.

Aemond noticed him first, halting at his sight. Aegon stepped toward Aemond, as if to yell at him some more, but Daeron brought a hand to hold his shoulder. Aegon nearly snapped his shoulder towards him to hit him, but Daeron stopped his hand too.

“Brothers,” he called them, his hold on Aegon’s wrist growing looser. “Stop it.”

Something in him snapped when he saw their faces closely. Aemond looked as if he had not slept a week, Aegon looked as if his blood had been running cold for a moon turn, hair a mess even if he wore a crown. They both try to pick themselves up, upon his arrival, Aemond fixing his gloves, and Aegon clearing his throat.

“You’ve grown tall, you twerp,” Aegon said, looking up to him. “It is good to see you. But don’t get involved.”

Daeron frowned. “Don’t tell me that. I’m your brother. I can talk to my brothers,” Daeron then looked at the door. “And my sister.”

Aemond shook his head. Some shame came upon his face. “She doesn’t want to see us, Daeron.”

What she didn’t want to see never mattered, though. Helaena often told him she saw strange things in her mind. When they were children, when she sent letters, it was often all the same. Sometimes, those were things she did not want to see at all. She managed through it all; she was the bravest, even when she cried waking up from a dream. She needed to see them, instead of further falling into loneliness.

“So we leave her to the darkness of her room instead of showing her she is not alone?” 

“I don’t know how to convince her out, Daeron. I tried,” Aegon said. “Aemond tried. Mother tried. Grandsire tried. Jaehaera and Maelor..” he trailed off. 

Daeron looked at the door again. His sister was never stupid, she knew they were outside. He knew she was listening, too. If she heard them, she only heard strife and more frustration, things she had likely enough of within her. Whenever Daeron played with Lord Ormund’s children, it was always similar with his one daughter, Bethany; if her brothers quarrelled and brawled while she was upset, she would lock herself in her rooms until she felt safe to get out. She wouldn’t go out to thundering knocks and threatening yells, but to safety.

Daeron didn’t know if Helaena would ever feel safe again. Not after all that happened. But if anyone was to give her hope it was them. He remained steadfast in his stare against his brothers.

“When ships are lost at night, we light the Hightower’s beacon until they find their way back.”

Turning around, Daeron knocked on the door, in an odd rhythm. A rhythm Helaena taught him when he was around eight, and plagued with nightmares of plucked eyes and stormy seas. When mother could only take care of Aemond, Helaena told him she would never turn him away should he come by her door. 

“It is like the summer songs of cicadas, stuck to their trees. They sing when they know when they feel safe.”

The sobs from within the room suddenly quietened. No rustling came from within, but it was a change. He knocked on the door again. Sniffles came in response. His brothers stared at him, and for once, he met them in an equal gaze. 

Biting his lip, Aegon brought his clenched first forward to the door too. He looked at Daeron, and they knocked together. More sniffles came, but they sounded closer. Aemond seemed to be most skeptical, but with both results and a glare from Aegon, they knocked again together, all three.

It felt like forever, until they heard something being moved from behind the door. The heavy door opens only slightly, but the sniffles are suddenly all clear. The light finally shone on her; Helaena’s face was red, her eyes were glassy, her hair unkempt and her dress crumpled upon her figure, but she was there.

She saw them all, and tears fell down her cheek again. “I…”

It was not clear, amongst the three of them, who came to hug her first. All Daeron knew is that they ended in sibling embrace. She fell into sobs again in their arms, this time holding them dearly for life.

We will not let go.