#this one got away from me a little

[kobbers]

Rathalaugust 2023 (catchup) day 28: Zinogre

chilling with the Thunderbugs~

[sapphicagenda]

Warrior Nun Headcannon:

Bea and Ava managed to keep a fairly low profile as they saved the world (post-Holy War), but there are some viral cell phone videos that captured the final confrontation. Occasionally, someone will give Ava the “you know, you look exactly like that flying girl” routine, but she’s charming enough to play it off as “just having one of those faces.” Bea’s profile can be glimpsed in one video, but her hair was under her conflict-habit (do we have a better term for this?), so she’s rarely recognized. 

However, Bea’s grandmother, in ill health, summons her to visit the family estate. Bea’s parents kept her from her grandmother, so Bea only has hazy childhood memories of her.

Her grandmother is much smaller and frailer than she remembers, but her eyes are still sharp and fierce. Bea stands awkwardly in front of her in the large front parlor, worrying she’s chosen the wrong clothes, as her grandmother studies her up and down. Her grandmother nods once, and then offers Bea a cup of tea as if it is the most normal thing in the world. 

She starts asking Bea about her life, her studies, where she lives... And she asks after her paramour, Ava. Bea is so shocked by this casual display of familial acceptance she completely misses the fact her grandmother used Ava’s name without being told. She tells her grandmother (almost) everything about her new life and they have a lovely afternoon. 

Her grandmother promises they will do it again soon as she leaves. 

Unfortunately, a few weeks later, a black car pulls up outside the apartment she shares with Ava, and a man in a dark suit tells her that her grandmother has passed away. She numbly accepts the envelope and flash drive he hands her. 

Ava holds her while she has a good cry about losing her only accepting family member just as they’d reconnected. Later that night, Bea opens the envelope and can’t believe it’s not a joke. Her grandmother is leaving almost her entire £500,000,000 estate to Bea.

Ava plugs the flash drive into Bea’s laptop and the only thing it contains is a video file. It’s a recording of Bea’s grandmother describing what terrible parents her son and daughter-in-law have been and that they are getting next to nothing. But, “to spare Bea the agony of deciding their fate herself,” she is leaving them an annual allowance equivalent to the average salary in the UK, which is £30,000. If they try to contest the will, they don’t even get that.

What does Bea do with £500,000,000?

She starts a foundation, of course! She reforms the OCS outside the influence of the Catholic church (which is in shambles anyway) and puts Mother Superion and Camila in charge of redefining their mission. Their headquarters also offers community spaces and services for at risk women and youth. 

The End

[herenya-writes]

Day 19: Plump

The forest was oddly quiet as the party approached the Lion’s Pavilion. It put Arlaros on edge, and his grip on his staff tightened as he began to pull magic from the Fade. Inquisition agents had lured the red templar responsible for manipulating the Freemen of the Dales here, and Arlaros and his companions had been sent in to kill him and put an end to his influence. Judging by the stillness of the forest, the red templar was already here. Arlaros doubted he had come alone.

He brought the group to a stop just out of sight of the pavilion. “The scouts reported that the Knight-Captain is almost completely under the influence of red lyrium. He’s retained his human form, but he’s stronger, faster, and wields some control over the other red templars. We need to kill him quickly.”

His companions nodded. “If he’s anything like the other lieutenants, he’ll have a group of templars with him, maybe some that have already turned into those terrors,” Blackwall said. “I can keep them focused on me while you kill the Knight-Captain.”

“Okay. Remember, we lured him here, so I want to utilize our element of surprise as much as we can.”

“It’s nice be on the other side of a trap for once,” Dorian mused, and Arlaros couldn’t help but agree. They had walked into too many ambushes for his liking.

“Dorian and Cole, I want you two to sneak behind the pavilion. My guess is that the Knight-Captain will be in the building itself, and I want you to surprise him. I’m going to walk up with Blackwall and keep the captain’s eyes on me for as long as possible.”

“Is Dorian capable of sneaking?” Blackwall asked dryly. “He fights like he’s entertaining a crowd.” It was an old barb, one Arlaros had made himself before. Still, Dorian tended to rise to it. This time, he stayed quiet, his eyes fixed on Arlaros.

“Shining, standing. A target on his back. Wish it was on mine. Too many eyes, too many swords.” It was Cole who said the words, but Arlaros had no doubt whose mind they were plucked from. He held Dorian’s eyes. He wasn’t going to back down from this. The red templars wanted to kill him, and he wasn’t afraid to use their single-mindedness against them.

After a long moment, Dorian dipped his head slightly.

Arlaros turned back to the group. “Blackwall and I will keep the templars’ attention but we won’t charge into battle right away. I want the captain to think we’re here to bargain. That’s when Cole and Dorian will strike.”

Everyone around the circle nodded, although there was reluctance in Dorian’s eyes.

“We’ll split up now. There should be a path that circles around the back for you two to take,” he said to Cole and Dorian. “We’ll give you a minute to get into position.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Cole was gone. It was as if the air around him warped and shimmered, cloaking him. Dorian had no such abilities, but he was quiet as he crept down the path toward the pavilion. Arlaros watched him for longer than he should have.

“It’s hard to love a soldier.” Blackwall’s words startled him, and he tore his gaze away from Dorian’s retreating form. There was a knowing, sad look in Blackwall’s eyes. “It’s even harder when there’s a difference in rank.”

Arlaros wanted to protest, but it was pointless. His relationship with Dorian was no secret, nor was it a secret that things between them had been tense ever since he had been severely injured when they had retaken a fort not long ago. Dorian was upset with him for taking unnecessary risks, and he was upset with Dorian for trying to shield him. He was the Inquisitor, risk came with the title.

“For what it’s worth, you two are managing this better than most people I’ve seen. You’ll get through this too.”

Arlaros nodded, unable to come up with a proper answer. He wanted to believe that what Blackwall said was true, but it wasn’t like their circumstances were going to change any time soon. He was still going to be the Inquisitor tomorrow, and he would still be forced to put Dorian and himself in danger.

He shook his head to clear it and adjusted his grip on his staff. It was time.

He and Blackwall strolled up the path to the pavilion. As they had expected, there were a few templars guarding the pavilion, and Arlaros could make out the hulking figure of the Knight-Commander inside. He came to a stop, and Blackwall moved a few steps in front of him, his shield raised.

“Knight-Captain Carrol,” he called, “I’ve come to speak with you.”

The Knight-Captain slung his hammer off of his back and took a menacing step forward. “The chosen of the Elder One don’t speak to lesser beings,” he snarled, and Arlaros had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Today you die, Inquisi--”

His threat was cut short by a groan of pain, as Cole buried his daggers into the captain’s back. The captain spun around, and the nearby templars leapt into action.

Blackwall let out a roar and charged the nearest templar, bashing the man in the face hard enough that Arlaros could hear the sickening crunch of a breaking nose. Two of the templars immediately turned toward Blackwall, giving Arlaros an opening to fire white-hot lightning at their backs. They twitched violently and collapsed.

The other templar in front of the pavilion must have taken more red lyrium than the others, because by the time Arlaros turned toward her, she was already transforming into one of those lyrium monsters. He blasted her with a few bolts of lightning, but her new form absorbed them easily.

He hated fighting these things. He hated that Corypheus had driven people to become monsters to serve his means. He hated that he was part of it. But none of that stopped him from slamming his staff into the ground and sending a powerful wave of lightning rippling toward the creature. She stumbled, and Arlaros sent three more bolts flying toward her in rapid succession. Electricity crackled over her twisted form, and she screamed as she died.

Arlaros was already running past her before she hit the floor.

He burst into the pavilion with a spell crackling at the tip of his staff, only to stop short. The Knight-Captain was gone, reduced to nothing more than a smoldering pile of ashes, as were the other two templars who had been guarding him. Even the plump pillows that were piled in one corner were smoldering. And there was Dorian, leaning heavily on his staff and glaring at the ashes as if he wanted to kill the man all over again.

Arlaros let his magic dissipate and leaned his staff against the nearest wall. Then, he took a few slow steps toward Dorian. Now that he was closer, he could see sweat beading on Dorian’s too pale face.

Dorian looked up from the ashes that were once the knight-captain and met his eyes. Then, he collapsed.

Arlaros darted forward and caught him before his head could crack against the ground. He pulled Dorian close as panic made his blood roar. It took him precious moments to forced his heartbeat back under control so he could listen for Dorian’s heartbeat. The relief that flooded him when he found it was sweeter than anything.

“He’s overextended his magic reserves,” he explained as he stood, lifting Dorian in his arms. “He’ll be okay, but he needs to rest.”

Blackwall nodded and stepped back to give them space. “I’ll keep watch. Shout if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Arlaros hoped he could hear his sincerity.

In the corner of his eye, Arlaros saw Cole extinguishing the few embers that had landed on the pillows. He nodded his gratitude and set Dorian on the pillows, leaning him carefully against the wall and then sitting beside him. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, but he wasn’t sure if Dorian would appreciate that right now.

“He is so bright, so bright, and burning. Burning for me and I didn’t ask him to.”

Arlaros gave a rueful smile. “No, I didn’t ask him to. But I keep putting him in situations where he feels like he has to overextend himself in order to keep me safe. That isn’t fair.”

Cole sat cross-legged across from him, a frown on his face. “You both want to keep each other safe, but the danger doesn’t stop. You’re hurting and hurting each other. Why?”

He wished he had an answer. He looked over at Dorian, whose face was slowly regaining its usual color. Even though he had pushed himself to collapse, he still looked gorgeous, and Arlaros’s heart ached in his chest.

“It’s hard to accept that Dorian is going to be in danger for as long as he follows me,” he finally said, eyes still fixed on Dorian’s face. “Everyone who follows the Inquisition banner is in danger, but Dorian isn’t following the banner. He’s following me. And I want nothing more than to keep him at my side, but the risks…” He sighed heavily. “I imagine Dorian feels similarly. He wants to keep me safe, but I keep throwing myself into situations where he can’t control what will happen. It’s hard to love a soldier.”

Silence fell. When Arlaros finally looked over to try and see what Cole was thinking, he was met with empty air. Cole was gone.

He shook his head and turned back to Dorian, finally giving into his urge to wrap an arm around him and pull him closer. A few minutes passed in silence as Arlaros counted each of Dorian’s breaths. Eventually, his lover began to stir, and Arlaros pulled back to give him space.

Dorian’s eyes blinked open and found his almost instantly.

“Hello,” Arlaros whispered, a sad smile on his face. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Dorian blinked again and hummed. “And here I was hoping I’d get to nap a little longer. Still, I can’t think of a better sight to wake to.”

“Flatterer.”

“I speak only the truth when it comes to you, amatus.”

They slipped into silence. Moving slowly, Dorian stretched his arms and cracked his neck and summoned a small flame to his fingertips. He watched it dance in the slight breeze for a long moment before extinguishing it.

Arlaros swallowed. “This isn’t sustainable,” he said, praying that his voice would stay level. “I can’t watch you burn yourself up for me.”

Dorian hummed, still staring at his hands. “I will admit I may have acted rashly.” Then he looked up and met Arlaros’s eyes. “But how can I do any less if I know it will keep you safe? The Inquisitor is worth one crispy Tevinter mage.”

Anger rushed through Arlaros, and he let out a slow and measured breath. “Not to me. Do you know how hard it is for me to send you into situations like this? What if you and Cole had been caught? What if Blackwall and I hadn’t arrived in time? Being the Inquisitor means making those decisions, but it doesn’t make them easy.” He leaned forward until his forehead was pressed against Dorian’s. “I want you by my side, vhenan, but I don’t want to hurt you because of my selfishness.”

“If you’re selfish, what does that make me?” Dorian whispered. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be out here, wading through templars and Maker knows what else.”

“That isn’t your choice to make.”

“No, no it isn’t. But I can choose to be by your side.” Dorian pulled back. “I don’t regret doing what I can to keep you safe, but I will try to be more aware of my own limits in the future. Burning that templar to ashes wasn’t, I suppose, strictly necessary.”

Arlaros leaned his head on Dorian’s shoulder. He murmured a thank you into his lover’s skin, and they allowed themselves a few more moments to sit in each other’s embrace before they forced themselves to rise.

[jmrothwell]

Regal Butterfly / University AU

Flynn didn’t mean to fall over him, literally, it was his fault really, sitting out in the hall dressed in black during a power outage–nevermind that she and Julie decided to walk in the dark, their phones were barely clinging to life and they needed to conserve their batteries as best they could.

Unfortunately, Julie also ended up tumbling forward into the pile the three of them now found themselves in since she had her arm fully wrapped around Flynn’s waist at the time. 

“Oh, shit, are you ok?” He asked, and it’s possible that Flynn recognized that as the voice of the cute guy in her psych 101 class who always asked the most random of questions leading to all sorts of fun stories she could relay to Julie later. 

They didn’t even know that his dorm was in the same building as theirs and Julies, and now they weren’t sure they would be able to face him ever again.

(Send me an AU and a pairing and I'll write a 3 sentence fic)

[offsidekineticist]

🏰 for Theovan please!

Thanks for the ask, Dolly! Best part having gnome characters is I can go hogwild about what their childhood homes looked like :P

"I told him this would happen!" Regill rants, pacing back and forth in the magic tiny hut your step-mom had conjured for the family to use until your father found a more permanent solution to your current housing situation. That situation being that your father's efforts at building "the biggest, most beautiful observatory in Brastlewark" had caused your home to topple into your neighbor's home, triggering a domino effect that took out half the neighborhood. Your father's cheerful assurances that he hadn't yet installed the telescope (which now sits in the center of the Tiny Hut, shielded from the elements) hadn't mollified your brother in the least.

"I told him," he continues, "that the house was already really, really, really tall, and we don't need an observatory anyway! What would we even use it for?!"

(You personally think an observatory would have been cool. Your mom taught you the constellations and how to use them to navigate on the ocean and in deserts and the Mana Wastes, and that really came in handy when you had to find your own way to Alkenstar after she died. An observatory would make it easier to teach Regill about the stars so he can find his way home when he gets lost in the desert and has to walk home alone.)

"How was he even going to get the telescope up there?" Regill continues, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis. "It wouldn't have fit past the slide!"

(The fastest way down from the old top floor was to go down the tube slide that wrapped around the house. The top floor served no purpose except to house the top of the slide, and so was very small - just enough space for your dad to lay on the floor with his limbs splayed out without touching the walls - which might be why it wasn't able to support the new top floor, which was almost as wide as the rest of the house had been)

"If he had just listened to me," your brother continues, "and replaced the slide with the observatory, we wouldn't be in this mess! But nobody ever listens to me!!" The last words are halfway between a whine and a scream, and he flops down onto his bedroll.

You sit down next to your brother and give him a skeptical look - it's not quite true that nobody ever listens to him.

"You don't count," Regill says, petulantly crossing his arms and rolling onto his side to face away from you, and you try not to let the dismissal hurt (because of course you don't count - why would you have expected to count? That would be silly.) "Someday they'll listen to me. They'll have to. I'll make them listen." His head pops up from where he's laying on the bed, his back twisting so he can just see you as he points at you. "I'll make them listen to you, too," he declares. "Or - well, if they're listening to me, they'll listen to you, because you usually let me do the talking. But if you decide you want to talk too, they'll listen to you because if they don't, I'll...I'll..." his head and hand drop back onto the bedroll, and he makes a long and frustrated "UNGH!!!!" sound. "I'll figure something out," he finally says. "But they won't like it, so they'll listen to us, and then nobody's house will have to fall over because they were stupid."

[compassionatekiller]

Does Unohana prefer cold or warm weather? What's her favorite season and why?

Unohana prefers warm weather, so naturally, her favorite season is summer. The heat reminds her of The Old Days, when she took to the field with Yamamoto. It reminds her of the fun she had killing back then, and it reminds her of all the comrades she could have known but never bothered to. It reminds her of the time where her directionless drifting was finally given purpose, and where she finally learned how the world really worked and just how fragile it all really was. It reminds her of those first fools who followed her, their terror and their exultation, and the comradery that could only be found when tallying the dead. It reminds her of a time where nobody was right, but everybody was necessary.

Inevitably, those thoughts remind her of her Great Sin. Yet, that painful time just as inevitably reminds her of how she joined the 4th Division. They remind her of how hard it all was at first, and how she learned to truly change. They remind her of the people who accepted her, the first ones among the 4th who reached out and truly called her "Captain." They remind her of how she lost her purpose in life, and discovered something truly meaningful all over again. They remind her of the first time she ever felt the satisfaction that comes from helping someone for the sake of helping them. They remind her that, for all of her mistakes, she is still moving forward.

Summer reminds Unohana of the importance of who she was, the importance of who she is, and brings into context the importance of who she will be.

Summer is the season of memory for her, and for Unohana, memory is sacrosanct.

[grundyscribbling]

It’s @tolkienrsb time!

Story: The Downward Spiral by Grundy

 Art: The Royals by Isilloth (full version posted at @isilloth-draws)

Rating: M

Warnings: Dub-con, non-con, mild sexual content,  first cousin incest, pregnancy and childbirth (not graphic)

Characters: Amandil, Ar- Pharazôn, Elendil, Gimilkhâd, Tar-Palantir, Tar-Palantir’s wife, Tar-Míriel, Sauron

Relationships: Tar-Míriel/Amandil,  Tar-Míriel/Pharazôn, Tar-Palantir & his family, Amandil & Pharazôn, Pharazôn & Sauron

Word count: 38,740

Summary: "But Pharazôn took her to wife against her will, doing evil in this and evil also in that the laws of Númenor did not permit the marriage, even in the royal house, of those more nearly akin than cousins in the second degree. And when they were wedded, he seized the sceptre into his own hand...”

[yunarise]

❛  where in the world have you been hiding?  ❜ (Kaveh to Navia 💕)

There will never be a better time to curl into his side, one hand atop his own as she nuzzles his palm. Her eyes are closed, entirely focused on feeling him, his warmth, his love. It's the most secure space for her. It...should be. How difficult it is to run from your own mind. Navia never quite mastered it, and she likely never will.

A thoughful hum answers his question, lips dragging against calloused skin. She loves him. Her heart hurts.

"Wherever they would hide me away," she says with a smile. She still doesn't look at Kaveh, not scared of what she might find in his gaze but unwilling to see it all the same. This is her being vulnerable. This is her ruining the ease of their company. Then again, it isn't true comfort if she is spiraling in the depths of her (pretty, doll-like, empty--) head. Moments of peace are the most treacherous.

Ah, why can't she have this? Just let her have this. She's so comfortable lying against Kaveh. He's...one of the few people she may let down her guard around. Melus and Silver would have loved him, same as they loved her.

They wanted nothing more than for her to find happiness. It's cruel that now she can't help but shed tears for them in her most unguarded moments.

Navia heaves a sigh, making the conscious effort to dispell those thoughts. She can't force herself to be happy, but she can cherish the happy times when they come. She can remember the smiles they gifted her. "Sorry," she says. Her form relaxes, melting into him fully. "Sometimes, I wish we could've found one another before everything. But I suppose it doesn't matter so long as I get to have you now, right?" / @basbousah

[juicywizards]

modern day saint sebastian

[chawliekin]

and if I said that dennis’ insistence on being the breadwinner/provider despite literally being a pampered princess who dgaf about traditional roles of masculinity in every other regard (aside from ego) is because his mom only stayed with/chose frank for his wealth and dennis is highly aware that he’s difficult to love and unable to show his emotions openly so he has to be contributing something to the relationship materially in order to feel like he’s worth staying for… and mac grew up with parents who were extremely ambivalent to him and eachother so he has to overcompensate by proving his worth at every given moment and seeking praise/validation from people (and religious icons) who will never demonstrate the same amount of dedication to him but he has no idea how else to desperately keep himself close to those he loves other than by eroding himself into something they’ll approve of… dear god they’re both exactly what the other needs — someone who can’t and won’t leave them even if they try — and they don’t even see it…

[diazsdimples]

HC: Tommy has a cat who doesn't like many people, but she always demands cuddles from Buck.

Anon, you sparked a Thing™️

Tommy tells Buck he has a cat fairly early on in their relationship. She's his baby, as he calls her. He's had her since he came out to L.A, having adopted her from a shelter a few months into him working with the 118.

One of the first selfies Buck receives is of Tommy lying on his bed, and the cat curled up protectively on his chest. She's a tabby with a dusting of white around her nose that makes Buck wonder about her age. The way Tommy talks about her makes her sound like a kitten, fresh from the womb, but Buck suspects she's probably around 13-14 years old.

When Buck goes to Tommy's apartment for the first time, he warns him about her. Buck can tell Tommy's a little nervous with the way he keeps glancing back at the lounge as he talks, as if he's expecting the cat to give him some big lecture about bringing a boy home without her express permission.

"Now, don't take it personally if Luna ignores you. She hates pretty much everyone," Tommy says as he kisses Buck's cheek and drags him inside the apartment.

It's a nice place, pretty much exactly what Buck expected from his boyfriend (is that what they are now? Boyfriends?). It's full of trinkets from Tommy's life, but it isn't cluttered - a perfect mixture of clean and chaotic, exactly like Tommy himself.

Tommy keeps his hand on the small of Buck's back as he guides him through to the lounge. Buck likes the way Tommy touches him. It makes him feel safe, grounded, as though Tommy could catch him if he falls.

Tommy' s got a couch not too dissimilar to Eddie's, but a deep maroon rather than blue. And there, right in the middle and nestled among a mess of blankets that Tommy has clearly set up for her, lies the person (creature?) in Tommy's life that Buck has been the most anxious to meet.

Tommy makes a chirping noise with his lips and Luna's ears perk up. Slowly, as though her very bones are creaking, she untangles herself from the blankets and hops down from the couch with a quiet "brrrpp". She stretches deeply, ears flattening against her head and eyes screwing shut, and the look of pure bliss that crosses her face is enough to capture Buck's entire heart.

Buck looks at Tommy for guidance as Luna gingerly walks over to him and looks up at him with big, beseeching eyes.

"Go on," Tommy prompts, giving Buck a small nudge with his elbow. "Let her sniff your hand."

Buck crouches and stretches out his hand towards Luna, offering her the backs of his fingers.

"Hi Luna," he almost whispers as she eyes him suspiciously. "I'm Buck, your dad's - uh - friend."

Tommy scoffs from behind him. "I think we're well past the friend stage, Evan."

"I didn't know - I'm sorry - I'm your dad's boyfriend," he corrects, looking back up at Tommy with a raised eyebrow.

Tommy nods, looking pleased. "Much better."

Buck just about leaps out of his skin when a wet nose touches his hand, and he turns back to see that Luna's moved closer, and is sniffing his fingers with interest. He holds stock still, remembering Tommy's words about her crotchety temperament and not wanting to frighten her, lest she bite him, or worse, run away.

Luna continues her sniffing, tiny pink nose moving minutely as she inhales, and then, much to Buck's shock, she rubs her whole face against his hand, with what can only be described as a smug purr.

"I-" Buck begins, looking back at Tommy with wide eyes. Tommy himself looks a little stunned, clearly thrown by his cat's rare display of affection.

"Huh," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at Buck and Luna with a deeply fond expression. "She's never done that before!"

Luna sits back on her haunches and gives a loud, croaky yowl, as though she's been a chain-smoker for most of her life. She nudges her head against Buck's hand and meows once again.

"I think she wants you to sit down," Tommy says, barely concealing his laughter at Buck's bewildered face. He takes Buck gently by the arm and gives him a quick kiss before directing him to the couch.

"I thought you said she hates everyone?" Buck questions, almost numbly as he allows Tommy to push him onto the plush cushions. The moment his ass has touched the couch, Luna leaps up beside him with a pleased chirp and climbs into his lap.

"She does," Tommy grins as he pulls out his phone, taking a quick snap of his extremely confused boyfriend and even more contented cat. "Clearly she has good taste."

Luna's purring is reaching volumes previously unknown to man, drowning out all other noise in the room as she begins to make biscuits against Buck's thigh. Her claws are sharp and needle-like, pricking into Buck's skin but he's too stunned to do anything more than mutely pet her silky fur.

"Wh-what do I do now?" Buck asks, looking at Tommy for guidance. He'd been expecting to possibly see a streak of Luna's fur as she raced across the apartment to hide under Tommy's bed - her favourite place apparently - but now here he is with a whole ass cat on his lap, one who apparently loves him and hates every other guest Tommy's ever had over, and Buck really has no clue where to go from here.

Tommy chuckles and reaches over to scratch behind Luna's ears before leaning forward and capturing Buck's lips in a soft kiss, his fingers gently caressing Buck's chin.

"Stay there, I'll go get us a beer," he says as he pulls away, and leaves Buck in the lounge with Luna. She's curled up completely in his lap now, tail tucked over her paws, and every so often she tilts her head up towards him, demanding scritches that he is more than happy to provide her with.

Tommy returns with two beers and hands one to Buck before flopping next to him on the couch, looping an arm around Buck's shoulders.

"I guess you've gotta stay forever now, Luna's not gonna let you leave," he jokes, and something twists in Buck's stomach, making him a little giddy.

He really likes Tommy - hell, he might even love the guy - but receiving the seal of approval from his cat is probably the biggest step in their relationship to date. Well, it really isn't but is sure feels like that. Like he's being welcomed into the family.

Buck sighs happily and rests his head against Tommy's shoulder, a small shiver rushing through him as Tommy noses his hairline, his lips brushing ever so gently against Buck's temple.

"Yeah, I guess I do."

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[misc-obeyme]

What kind of punishments would Lucifer give to Mc if they did a mistake without meaning it? NSFW of course!!

NSFW MDNI

Hrm, well, I dunno. I think if MC messed up on accident, Lucifer would probably be pretty lenient about it. I don't think he'd do much of anything, to be honest with you. I've always been of the opinion that Lucifer is only strict because he wants his brothers to be safe. And that obviously extends to MC.

That being said, it seems to me that you may be implying a different sort of dynamic exists between MC and Lucifer - one that they've discussed previously. So that an accidental mistake turns out to be something that's used as an excuse to indulge in "punishments" wink wink lol.

And if we're talking about sexy times, well, I have opinions on that, too. But I'm gonna put it below this read more 'cause we're getting a bit explicit.

I personally have always headcanoned Lucifer as a switch. I think he can absolutely take on that dom role if his partner wants him to, but I think he also likes to sub for someone he fully trusts.

However, if he's the one doling out punishments, then he's obviously the dom in this situation.

And if that's the case, I think Lucifer is a pleasure dom.

This demon is so madly in love with MC, all he wants is to make them orgasm again and again. And again. And then again.

I think the kind of punishment you're likely to get with Lucifer is a lot of edging. He's gonna bring you right to the brink and then deny you that final release until he thinks you've had enough.

I kinda think he'd probably tie you up, too. I can just imagine Lucifer putting you into some elaborate shibari - dark red ropes or maybe black because he likes to see you in his colors.

But that's only if he has the time to be that thorough. If we're talking a quick and dirty punishment, you know he'll make use of his tie instead. Depending on his mood, he'll wrap it around your wrists or tie it over your eyes or in your mouth.

I think he'd go for the blindfold most often. He wants to hear you whine for release. And he likes to keep you guessing. You get to just sit there, not knowing fully what he's doing because you can't see and he's too quiet to let you hear him.

By the time he's done, you're screaming his name and he's never heard anything quite so pleasant as that.

Neither of you are silly enough to think that this is going to actually deter you from making a "mistake" again. In fact, it's more likely to encourage your bad behavior. But Lucifer doesn't mind. Not if it gives him an excuse to make you come over and over again.

[1495-gauge]

there's that fucked up three-eyed thing that lives in the woods. whose turn is it to chase it off again??

[lenateliier]

Maomao in various hanfu #3: Tang dynasty

[strangersatellites]

AU where eddie and steve are going to have dinner with steve’s ex-girlfriend/longest best friend and her girlfriend/ steve’s bestest best friend and eddie is woefully under prepared.

the ex, nancy, works for some government agency, like the CIA or some shit and her digital footprint is nonexistent. eddie knows. he’s looked. there’s not a photo of her to be had anywhere.

even robin’s socials only have pictures that she’s barely in. a blurry picture of her hand holding a glass. her holding a menu in front of her face from across the table. shit like that. robin called it a soft launch.

well, actually she called it a “not really soft launch because everyone already knows about her so i’m not really launching the fact that i have a girlfriend so much as i am the fact that she’s her and because she’s her she can’t be photographed a lot at least not anywhere that’s going to be shared publicly but the principle is still the same as a soft launch where you would slowly post pictures with details implying that you were dating someone but you guys already know i’m dating her so it’s not quite that but that’s the idea. you know?”

eddie is impressed by her lung capacity.

eddie’s a bit of a hipster in his approach to social media as well, only posting grainy black and white photos of guitars or coffees or occasionally steve.

so he gets it. kind of.

so you can imagine eddie’s surprise as they’re walking up the sidewalk to the restaurant and he sees the female version of himself.

it’s cold out so they’re both wearing long black coats and boots. she’s got curly brown hair and is wearing a lot of jewelry. rings specifically, on the hand that’s holding a cigarette up to her mouth.

eddie does a double take when he sees it’s the same one he’s holding his own cigarette with.

steve calls down the sidewalk, “robbie! nance!”

and even the scowl that she wears for a split second before she realizes who’s yelling looks just like eddie’s own resting angry face, as steve calls it.

the only real difference is that she’s tiny.

where eddie’s pushing six feet she looks barely five and a half.

he’s brought a little comfort that by the fact nancy looks as shocked as he does. spending about ten seconds just staring at each other before he barks out a laugh.

he holds up a hand in front of himself and sees the recognition flit across nancy’s face as she catches on. raises her own and moves it in unison with eddie’s. turns her head to the side when he does and barely conceals her laugh.

“so i guess you’re eddie then?” and even her voice is strong and teasing in a way eddie’s knows steve likes because he’s told eddie he likes his.

he reaches out an arm to wrap her up in a hug.

“in the flesh and blood. the mysterious nancy wheeler, it’s a pleasure.”

he turns and looks at steve and robin where the former is flushed red in the face and has a hand covering his smile while robin is physically bent at the knees covering her laughter.

“stevie you never told me your ex could be my doppelgänger.”

au august day 11: doppelgänger