#muse; tess

[iwritemilfs]

@dscvrdbcttr liked for a lyric starter (accepting)

"I want to talk like lovers do."

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

'It's Not the Years, Honey - It's the Mileage'

a Whumped Doctor Strange one-shot

Inspired by a couple of pre Multiverse of Madness articles comparing Stephen Strange to Indiana Jones😉😁

genre: whump, hurt/comfort, light humor

rating: general audience

characters: Stephen Strange, Tess O'Neill (Healer of Kamar-Taj, OFC); established relationship; Cloak of Levitation

word count: 1.9k

It was supposed to have been date night, but Stephen was overdue. Three hours overdue. Again. Tess had taken these things in stride, right from the start. After all, you can’t be lucky enough to be the significant other of the Sorcerer Supreme without being incredibly patient, understanding, and flexible. Besides which, he was always so adorable when he finally found his way home, sincere in his apologies, and more often than not, presenting her with a fresh bouquet, which he managed to conjure even before he uttered a single word. Tonight’s transgression was bound to be a two dozen roses mea culpa--and she just knew he’d make them her favorite: pale pink American Beauties.

Not that he ever needed to. His company was dear enough recompense for any time he kept her waiting. Except for the worrying, of course, but Tess had quickly adjusted to that, and so far she hadn’t made any complaint, no matter how late her Stephen managed to show up. She’d rather spend their precious time on more pleasant pursuits--and on showing him however she could, how happy he made her simply by being...him. 

And so, Tess had adjusted down their plans. First, from dinner out and a movie, to take-out and the latest blu-ray release. And then from that, to something she could whip up, quick and easy, in the Sanctum’s smaller kitchen. Stephen was bound to be hungry when he arrived, and she had a hearty pot of stew simmering on the stove and a batch of honey cornbread ready to pop into the oven while he cleaned up. 

Tess had just given the stew another stir, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned to find Cloak looking battle singed and...well...harried. How this being without a face could express such a wide range of emotions was a continual wonder to her--but right now her immediate reaction was to ask if Stephen was alright. 

Cloak’s collar shook a clear ‘no’, and then it tugged at her arm, to get her moving. She turned off the stove and moved the stewpot to another burner, and followed Cloak down the grand staircase. And there sat Stephen on the third step, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his bloodstained tunic rent in several places. Tess’s heart leapt to her throat, though she tried to remain calm, realizing that he needed her as a Healer tonight, far more than as the woman who loved him. 

She dropped to one knee in front of him, noting that the shelf of his jaw bore a dark bruise, and that he had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, a black eye and a split lip. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching her sure hands towards him, studying his wounds with practiced eyes, evaluating which she should address first. Thankfully, the blood on his clothing was dried, so that Tess concluded he wasn’t actively bleeding. “What happened,” she asked quietly, concerned to see him breathe shallowly, as breathing any deeper appeared to make him wince. 

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, as she placed both of her palms on his chest and closed her eyes, searching for any internal damage. 

“Ow...ow...ow...owwwwwwww,” he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?” 

Cloak was flitting back and forth, giving the closest approximation of pacing as possible. “It certainly is, as well you know...Doctor.” To that he only grunted, then followed with a heavy groan when she palpated his lower ribs and abdomen. “Stephen,” she informed him patiently, “You’ve got at least three cracked ribs...” 

“I know,” he replied curtly, “Don’t you think I know that?”

Tess tried to placate him. “Of course you do--but there’s no need to be pissy about it. It’ll just take a simple healing spell to start them knitting properly together.” 

“I...know,” he repeated through gritted teeth, attempting to stand. Cloak had to swoop in to keep him from landing hard on his bottom. 

Tess rose and wiped her hands on her denim capris. “Cloak, can you get him up to the infirmary, so I can take care of him properly?” 

Cloak nodded, but Stephen had other ideas. “No infirmary--just get me to my room...” 

Honestly, doctors really do make the worst patients, she thought, although she held her tongue, telling Stephen instead, “Nope. It’s the infirmary for you.” He huffed, but didn’t speak up. “And that’s Healer’s orders, Stephen. I outrank you in this, at least for the moment...” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively. He handed her his sling ring, “We can portal there--it’ll be quicker and a less bumpy trip than relying on...” He wagged his head in Cloak’s direction. 

Tess had to suppress a chuckle, as Cloak’s reaction to that perceived insult was to turn its back to Stephen. “Alright,” she sighed, slipping his ring on and bringing the golden circle to life. She returned to his side and offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Just lean on me, and we’ll be there in a jiffy.” 

She could feel his aversion to appearing so needy, even as he braced himself with an arm across her shoulders, but knew well that it wasn’t on her account. Stephen generally disliked showing weakness to anyone, although as their relationship had blossomed, his trust in her had been enough for him to reveal much of what he hid from the world behind sarcasm and bravado. Tess had always taken such precious trust as both a privilege and an honor. Stiff lipped against his pain and leaning on her heavily, they hobbled through the portal and Tess led him to sit on the nearest bed. 

The infirmary was empty but for them, and she took a moment to close the portal, and then rushed to gather her supplies. Disinfectant and a basin of warm water, along with a washcloth and the softest, fluffiest towel she could conjure, for after she got him cleaned up. And bandages. Lots and lots of bandages. Tess returned to Stephen’s side to find him struggling to remove his tunic. She set down her things, telling him, “Here...let me...” 

“I’ve...got...this.” he grunted, though it was clearly hurting him to raise his arms above his head. 

“No. No you don’t,” she corrected him gently, “Please--just let me do my job, Stephen.” 

“Alright...alright...” He did his best to relax as she worked the garment over his head and off. Tess gasped at the network of contusions across his shoulders and upper chest. “Dammit, Tess...that hurts!” 

“I know, darling. I know.” To her relief, most of his bruises appeared superficial. “Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, okay.” Stephen nooded, and closed his eyes as she washed the cut on his nose, and several shallow scratches on his cheeks and chin, finally seeing to the split on his lower lip. 

Next, she addressed the wounds on his back, circling behind him and perching on the edge of the bed. She was relieved again to find that they were rather shallow as well, and made quick work of cleansing them. Tess chose that moment to speak to him as his woman, rather than as a Healer. “You know--you’re extremely fit for a man your age, darling. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful out there.”

“It’s not the years, honey...” he snorted, “...it’s the mileage...” Stephen had stiffened despite her gentle approach, but when she applied the disinfectant, he hissed out a string of very un-Stephen-like curses. 

“Don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, her patience beginning to strain.

“I’m not,” he responded petulantly. 

Coulda fooled me, she thought, but bit back that retort. A few minutes more and she had his wounds properly bandaged. Tess set aside the basin and the towel, telling him, “Now let’s see about those ribs. Do you think you can lay back? It’ll be easier that way.” 

“Of course I can,” he barked, “I’m not an invalid, you know.” 

No, you’re just the crankiest Master of the Mystic Arts that I've ever encountered. Bravest and most selfless too, so I suppose I can forgive your churlishness.

He winced when she placed her hands on his shoulders, helping to ease him onto his back. Closing her eyes again, she skimmed her hands above the skin covering his damaged ribs, whispering the charm needed to bolster his body’s natural healing ability. Satisfied that she had succeeded once she could feel the spell take root, Tess pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. Stephen’s were closed, and his face had gone slack with a look of relief. Good enough, she concluded, hoping he would sleep a long while to aid in healing. 

Still, she thought she could do a little something to speed the reduction in the nastiest of his contusions--and it would be best to try while he was asleep. She reached tentative fingers to Stephen’s right shoulder. His eyes flew open with a start, “Owwwwww...that’s still tender, you know!” 

“I’m just trying to help...” 

“Well...I don’t need a nurse anymore,” he groused, “I just want to sleep.” 

“If you let me see to these now, you’ll feel much better in the morning...” Tess trailed her fingertips along his jaw, channeling her own energy into relieving his pain. “Any better?”

"A little,” he pouted, “But it hurts...almost everywhere...”

There seemed to be no pleasing him this way--but still, it was her nature to try. Exasperated, she blurted out, “Well, dammit, Stephen--where doesn’t it hurt?” 

Looking defiant, he showed her his elbow, “Here.” Tess laid the softest kiss she could upon it. 

“And...and here,” he added, pointing to his forehead, his whole demeanor softening in response to her tenderness. Cautiously, Tess leaned in and planted a loving kiss there. Momentum had turned in her favor. 

Stephen pointed to his un-blackened eye, “Um...here?”

Tess smiled softly, watching his eyes flutter shut, and then brushed her lips as lightly as she could upon his eyelid. There was a moment as her face hovered over his, and the look when he opened his eyes made her heart start to melt--for within their mercurial depths, she saw both gratitude and an apology for his childish behavior. Stephen tapped his lips and murmured, “Here.” 

She wondered if he felt her indulgent smile as their lips finally met, but before too long their kiss had gone from chaste to something deeper and more enduring, as he relaxed completely under her loving ministration. When she finally pulled away, Tess found that her kiss had worked a magic of its own, and her beloved Stephen was out like a light. 

Tess arose and draped the sheet across him lightly, then levitated the next bed over and landed it flush against his. Her hunch was that he’d sleep through the night, but she wanted to be close by if he should need her. 

Come morning, she awoke to find him gone--can’t keep a good Sorcerer down for long, she mused--but in his place, he’d left three dozen pale pink American Beauties, and a small piece of handwritten parchment. It was brief but to the point:  

Thank you, honey. For everything. Love - your Stephen xx

tagging: @hithertoundreamtof23 @stewardofningishzida @ironstrange1991 @mousedetective @aphroditesdilemma @icytrickster17 @groovyqueer @battledress @aelaer @mckiwi @couldntbedamned

[thissoundsdifferent]

Knights of Cydonia - Orchestral Cover by Tess Ringeling

Original by Muse (2006)

Disclaimer: I do not have any association with the cover artists nor the original artists. None of this work is my own. Please leave likes and comments on the videos and support the original creators.

[emmatriarchy]

“Of course I worry about you! You’re important to me.” [Gabby]

"I guess we're kinda family too? I mean, you have a thing for Morph, who's got something with Logan, and I was cloned from his clone... so does that make you..." Gabby starts using her fingers to draw an imaginary family tree in the air as she speaks. "My step-step-grandma?" she adds mischievously.

[keepfight1n]

ellie breaking a vase in the museum and joel immediately calling out for tess like ' pls come get ur kid ' , i love them

[sapphic-bombshell-vixen]

The L Word: Generation Q S3 — l don’t even like Tina or Bette.

— (Me 🤡) for thinking that there would be hope for Dani x Gigi.

[sagehaleyofficial]

What is UP, my dudes?! It’s Friday again, meaning it’s time for another NEW RELEASE ROUND-UP! Which of these new releases is your personal favorite? Let me know in the comments, and suggest your own new releases for the week if they’re not listed! 💿

#Evanescence #Halfnoise #Muse #PlainWhiteTs #SpeedyOrtiz #TessAndTheDetails

[cursivebloodlines]

❛ can we just have one more kiss. ❜ (Danielle/Logan)

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “Can’t get enough of me, hmm?” Logan couldn’t resist teasing. He was deflecting, as usual. Or maybe he really was that arrogant.  Either way, he knew damn well that he certainly could not get enough of her. The truth was, Logan would kiss Danielle any and every time she wanted him to, until the end of days. It had already happened before, after all. In a perfect world, maybe he would have gladly accepted it. But this was not a perfect world and despite what may have happened before, he was still a man of morals. Even if said morals turned to be questionable from time to time, usually when Danielle was concerned. Matters of the heart were a truly complicated manner. He’d always thought the saying, ‘Right person, wrong time’ was a load of bullshit, an excuse. But boy, he could not be more wrong if he tried. He let his resolve crumble once. Once was a mistake; twice, however, was deliberate.

However, Logan would hardly call the first time a mistake. The only reason it could be was simply due to the situation. He was unavailable. Natalie was a lovely woman, and he was making every attempt to make it work; he couldn’t bear to hurt her. Sure, their blossoming relationship was still in its early stages but that didn’t mean it was okay to fool around with someone else. That’s not the sort of man he was. And if some man dared to try that on any one of his younger sisters, he would kill them. He should be setting an example. But as usual, all thoughts of logical were chucked out of the window wherever Danielle was concerned. But where did this leave them, exactly? How did she feel about Logan? Did she even have feelings towards him or was this an experiment? To see how far he could be pushed before deciding in the end that she didn’t want him. Because if he could straddle the line between her and someone else, who's to say he wouldn't do the same to her in the end? He would never subject her to such pain, but he wasn't foolish—well, mostly. He understood how easily these actions could be misconstrued.

One more kiss. The words hung in the air, heavy with finality. It felt like a goodbye, absurd as that seemed. Did it have to be this way? Surely, she knew the depths of his feelings for her... He had professed them enough times, humiliating himself in the process. Initially passing it off as a joke when he faced rejection. Then awkwardly stumbling through his words, her struggling to find the right response when there was none. But still, if she wanted anything, if she wanted him in any capacity, he would willingly oblige without hesitation.

But first…

A small hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he drew a deep breath and closed the distance between them. Logan regarded her with reverence, drinking in every detail of her face. "Okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Carefully tucking strands of her hair behind her ear, he relished the moment, savouring it like the fleeting taste of forbidden fruit. Could she hear the pounding of his heart, the thunderous anticipation echoing in his chest? Logan inched closer, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to hers, but then he hesitated. It was a tease, his own twisted way of provoking her, silently daring her to bridge the gap.

And then, at the last possible second, he moved upward, bypassing her lips and pressed his mouth gently against her forehead. Lower, he trailed kisses to her cheeks, one and then the other. His heart pounded like a drum against his ribcage with each tender touch. Lingering beneath her earlobe, he pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. Logan paused, his breath a ghostly caress on her skin. "But first, tell me this," he murmured with a low, unsteady voice, struggling to rein in his own rapid breaths. His tongue darted out, briefly licking his lips in a fervent mix of anticipation, desire and (dare he say) nerves for what lay ahead. "What is it that you truly want?"

[lavenderrpages]

tess for sarah -> @vntagetee

" thought this had your name written all fuckin' over it." tess tossed a pink shirt to sarah's chest, not waiting for the others hands to lift for a proper catch. gripping the strap of her bag, tess cleared her throat to erase any trace of pleasure that was spread on her face. the shirt was bright still considering how long it must have been laying in a pile of dirt where tess had discovered it. the smuggler found humor over the cartoonish pony pictured on the front of the shirt. " don't hurt my feelings and not wear this. " the woman huffed. less of a gift, and a form of punishment. it was a small offering from being gone so long. tess didn't handle sentiments lightly, but for her, the shirt had more meaning than a joke. this trip a little longer than anticipated. it was getting ugly on the other side of QZ. - but nothing was as feral as the inside.

[iwritemilfs]

@curedyceps ___________

She could still see that look on his face. The frustration, the anger, the hurt. Because Tess had been the one determined to take the girl. It was supposed to be a quick and easy job, in and out, no big deal. She and Joel would've been on their way to find Tommy by now.

That wasn't how it had panned out. Her determination had killed him. She wanted to blame Ellie - more than anything else, did she want to blame Ellie. But Tess knew that was unfair. She was just a kid doing what she'd been told to do. Yet, that blame gnawed.

"Are you sure Marlene didn't say anything else about where the Fireflies are? Because I can only do so much with 'west'."

[elialys]

I can tell I'm going to get extremely compromised by this fic and not just because I have to kill off Joel soon in order for this AU to work.

“D’you think we’ll get to see cats?”

For what feels like the tenth time today—which is saying a lot considering it’s not even noon, judging by the sun in the sky—Tess is taken aback by Ellie’s question.

One of many.

They’re slowly making their way toward the hotel, she and Ellie leading while Joel purposefully stays back. Part of it is him playing the tough lookout, but she knows he’s mostly avoiding having to talk to their unexpected companion.

Tess finds herself suppressing a small smile, not her first one today either. “Cats?” she repeats. “Why do you want to see cats?”

“I’ve never seen a cat,” Ellie says, almost dreamily. “Read all about them though. They seem so…fluffy, and fun.”

Tess snorts, shaking her head a little, unable to stop herself from remembering the few cats she’d had, pre-Outbreak Day. “They were also a pain in the ass. Cute, but deadly, always on the lookout for new ways to break the rules, or anything fragile, really.”

“Aww, sounds just like me!”

[likesouvenirs-a]

@ raleigh. ) with a kick, the crate she'd been sitting on is sent sliding raleigh's way. the beginnings of a smirk tuck away at the corner of the smuggler's mouth. "swallow your pride, stand on the box, and ... up and at 'em."

an eyebrow rose in comfortable silence, fingers maneuvering around her handgun. bristle brush in hand, raleigh stopped all movements to lift her head towards tess. a sarcastic chuckle escaped her mouth, unintelligible mocking tones following. “did joel bribe ya to say that?” she’d heard her fair share of short jokes, and sometimes she even embraced her small and short frame — crawling through impossible spaces and popping up on the other side unharmed.

lifting her hips, she kneeled. pressing one foot flat against the ground, she stood up — gun and brush still in her hands. “you’d have more benefit from having this—” kicking the crate back towards tess, the scraping echoed through the enclosed building. “heard your firecrackin’ knees earlier. do we need to find you some compression shit?”

her wrist started twisting again, cleaning the gun barrel. “more than happy to help you look,” raleigh smiled sweetly.

[my-t4t-romance]

there are many pretty and buff women at this floridian highland games overhead stone press contest

[protectthevulnerable]

@frstwomn

          It had been... several months? Maybe. Since the apocalypse had started. Her trip to america had started with disney world. Something fun. But that had very quickly ended with her dad being eaten alive in the middle of an overcrowded theme park. And now she was just trying to survive, wandering across a country that she wasn’t all that familiar with. She’d heard rumors. Rumours that gave her hope. Rumours that she strove to prove correct.

          The president of the United States was trying to rebuild America. To Tess, it sounded true and almost inevitable. She was the president. She could do anything, right? Even if it took time. Tess just had to find her and maybe things could be easier.

          Hope. Over many points over her adventure, it hadn’t felt all that hopeful and other times, the old world felt like it was just around the corner. Weeks on the road were grueling and days where she finally found a town were relieving. But people were selfish and scary. It always ended badly. But that hope always came back. The president wasn’t scary, right?

          Somehow after months of hard detective work and walking, she was close. Each time she heard about the president, she grew closer. The next state over, the same state, just a few towns over. Finally... finally just a few miles away. The young girl ran those last few miles, despite how weak she was from malnutrition and dehydration and how often she stumbled.

          When she finally caught the first sight of what she thought could be them, she was grabbed. In her excitement, she hadn’t really been paying as much attention as she should have been and surprisingly strong, rotting hands grabbed at her and shoved her down, pulling a scream out of her.

[emmatriarchy]

@fiddlingonthetympanic​ / wanted woolfqueen

💎 -- “You can fantasize about Namor’s abs and ass, most people who are attracted to men have at some point. But if you could keep yourself from drooling in his presence, it would be much appreciated - You know how I hate to feel like a second choice.” 

[maelstrom-muse]

@wearetheonesx​  sent a 💬 for Clementine!

Clementine couldn’t point out where it went wrong between her and Tess; it just... did. Their romance was a whirlwind from the beginning; of course the bookworm and cafe owner would naturally be drawn together. They bonded over cups of coffee - all Tess’s personal recommendations - far after the shop had closed. Those days were a bittersweet memory for Clem; sunshine followed by night, warmth followed by icy cold. 

They called it weeks ago. An argument that Clementine didn’t fully remember, but it didn’t matter. She threw herself back into her books - into her painting. Anything to get her mind off of Tess. Clem felt she was finally getting better, when a late night knock at her apartment door revealed the very person she tried to push out of her mind. 

“Tess?” Her name came out of Clementine’s mouth clouded with disbelief. Even now, she found it hard to meet the woman’s gaze; her eyes flickered to the door, her shoes, the wall behind Tess - anything except her. “What - what are you doing here? No - no you shouldn’t be here.”