#unresolved universe

[b0nelessdoodles]

some future bits of creme uni where sm grabs two of pv's patients and makes them start fighting for reasons that he does not explain to his husband beforehand and he will get his head ripped off about (literally)

as always more details in the tags

(non-text version 'cause its fuckin' funny)

[journey-to-the-attic]

Or more in the spirit of couples for pride, in which au were Solomon and Mephisto holding hands? Multiple? And was it before or after being separated by a morality crisis?

(I’m pretty sure it’s morality crisis or identity loss via cave leading to morality crisis just about every time.)(cave = ground opening = pit since I think the stuck in cave was wizard mirror scan turned real au and 7th circle pit is basically a cave)

they do it in every universe but that chain of events was in reference to them in jtta! this is how that timeline goes:

sonno names diavolo acting ruler and goes to sleep in the archaic pit, leaving mephisto displaced in a devildom that doesn't really need him anymore

mephisto leaves the devildom in search of something to do and meets solomon, who is currently in isolation with his magic study/experimentation in a cabin in uninhabited corner of the world

both being lonely, mephisto having nowhere in particular to be, and solomon being interested in pacts and demonic magic, mephisto lives with him for a while

this could last for anywhere from six months to like a century, given their lifespans, but this is where the hand-holding (and pact-making) occurs (this is also where an anon was asking if they had fucked)

mephisto grows restless, having been a servant for an eternity, and abruptly leaves, seeking purpose - but intending to come back

he returns to the devildom, briefly befriends levi, and uses the HoL's underground tomb as a route down to the seventh circle, where he attempts to seek sonno, fucks up, and falls into the pit

mephisto gets, for lack of a better word, destroyed by the pit's security measures, and his pact with solomon is severed in the process

in the human world, solomon feels the pact break and assumes that he has been abandoned for good

mephisto later crawls back to the devildom, is found an inch from death and rescued by astaroth, and is too ashamed upon recovery to return to solomon

(i have no idea what wizard mirror au you're referring to though - is it the rpg au? where solomon's past life's memories were sealed in a mirror?)

[smoresie]

shepherd watches bluey in secret... (if you come in he'll tell you to get out with tears running down his face and red eyes)

[psi-spectacular]

Rough counselor au sketches

[sgxena16]

I just binged NCIS: Hawai'i and I'm so bitter it got cancelled. This show is so good and deserves at least 8 seasons.

[97-liners]

seungcheol x gn reader

words: 1k

tags: comfort (with no hurt), modern working adult au 😔, feelings for each other but they’re not together

soundtrack: 7pm - bss feat peder elias

[7:03 PM]

You: hey where are you?

[7:09 PM]

Seungcheol: on the subway, just heading home

Seungcheol: why?

You: ah, nvm

You: i wanna leave work soon and i just wanted some company

You: we can catch up some other time :)

Seungcheol: no i’m coming

[7:10 PM]

Seungcheol: i’ll just hop on the inbound train at the next station

Seungcheol: be there in 10. I’ll meet you in your office

.

.

.

The gopchang restaurant that Seungcheol takes you to smells like grease and smoke. It’s August and the air in Seoul is unbearably hot and muggy as ever, even at night. A thin film of condensation creeps at the edges of the glass windows looking out into the street and the inky black expanse of the Hangang, but you’re tucked safely in the small corner booth.

Seungcheol is sweating. Cheeks pink and forehead glistening, he commandeers the grill, tongs in one hand and scissors in the other. His white button down hangs limply off his broad shoulders and the sleeves are roughly rolled up to avoid oil splatters. You sit and watch, listless, with your cheeks in your hands, propped up with your elbows against the table.

“Here,” he takes a small piece of meat off the grill and puts it on your plate. It’s slightly burnt, but it’s just the way you like it.

“Thanks, Cheollie,” you mumble. Taking one hand off your cheeks, you pick up your chopsticks and push the meat around for a second before sighing and lifting it to your mouth.

“No appetite, huh?” Seungcheol is evidently satisfied with the state of the meat and begins divvying it up between your plates, clacking his tongs and dripping grease on the table in the process.

“No, I’m hungry,” you say around a mouthful of gopchang and lettuce, “I had to skip lunch today.”

Seungcheol pauses and frowns at you.

“I know.” You chew miserably. “But my lunch time got scheduled over and I couldn’t miss the meeting. The project I’m managing, the green energy building in Seodaemun, is pushing over budget and late because of the chip shortage, and the stakeholders keep changing their minds.” You close your eyes and press your face into your hands, trying to assuage the oncoming headache. “I’m so tired. I can’t sleep because I keep worrying about this project.”

“Here.”

You look up to see Seungcheol opening a bottle of beer for you. He places the frosty cold bottle next to your plate. He lifts his own beer in a silent gesture, and you can’t help but to grin at the silly expression on his face, a mix of sympathy and understanding, and you click the neck of your bottle with his. The beer is cool against your throat as it goes down, just a little bit of relief from the sweltering Seoul heat.

“I wish I could help you,” Seungcheol says as he starts to load vegetables on the grill. “I mean, just say the word and I’ll go yell at whoever is making your job hard.”

You laugh and lean against the wall next to you. “Thanks, Cheollie. I wish I had you behind me for my meetings. But enough about me, how’s your new team member?”

Seungcheol heaves a heavy sigh. “He’s not the fastest learner, but he’s a hard worker and he has good intentions. I think he’d be better suited for another role, but I’ll give him some time before talking to him about it. I think I’ll just mentor him the best I can until then.”

You smile. You can just see him in the office in his neat suit, hands interlaced atop his desk, a kindly expression on his face. “I bet you’re the best boss ever,” you tell him, idly picking at the bean sprout salad on the table. Seungcheol purses his lips, somewhat embarrassed, and shrugs.

“I try my best.”

.

.

.

After your meal, Seungcheol insists on walking along the Hangang with you to work off some of the calories from the grease-heavy dinner. Here by the water, the air is somewhat cooler and fresher. Seungcheol’s thin shirt flaps in the soft breeze, his tie long forgotten, rolled up and tucked away in his pocket.

When he showed up at your office earlier to greet you and pick you up, you noticed that he was wearing a red silk tie with little burgundy stripes on it— the tie you bought him as a congratulatory graduation gift all those years ago.

“I like your haircut,” you tell him, affectionately running your hand through his freshly shorn short chestnut-colored locks. “You look cute.”

He laughs. “Cute? Don’t I look like a dad? That’s what Mingyu told me, at least.”

“No,” you shake your head, smoothing down his hair, “you look young.”

He looks like how he did when he was in university, where the two of you met. Back when you had ambitions and he had none. You with your purposeful engineering degree, and him with the business degree that his dad made him enroll in. And now, you’re not sure if he’s happy in middle management in corporate hell, but he certainly looks better than when he was a resentful, aimless student.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol flushes. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are pink.

You hold your hand gently against his head, smoothing your palm down the back of his neck, painfully affectionate, and you convince yourself that it’s the soju that’s pulling the blood to his face and not the fact that he’s been in love with you for almost a decade.

In a small moment of indulgence, you place your palm against his neck and stroke your thumb slowly under his ear. He sighs softly and leans into your touch, ever so slightly.

“Thanks for coming out with me, Seungcheol,” you whisper. The two of you are standing right in the middle of Hangang Park, surrounded by fellow pedestrians, but you keep him close, like you’re trying to encapsulate the two of you in this moment, frozen in time. “I feel a lot better,” you smile. “I really needed this.”

“No,” Seungcheol replies, “I needed this too. I always feel better after getting food and hanging out with you.” His eyes are gentle and warm, so soft, all for you.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “You’re a good friend, Seungcheol. Thank you.”

[ghoul-haunted]

sometimes I'll see a post cross my dash where they refer to women as females in a specific kind of tone, and I'll check their blog, and 9 times out of 10 they're a deeply rancid anti-porn/sex can only exist as exploitation preacher, and just a little bit further and bam! the bioessentialism! and I'm like. damn! my batting average is pretty good. what a bunch of freaks.

[deliriiuumm]

instead of working, i wrote a summary for the dreamling post-canon time loop au that only exists in my head

Something strange is happening: every time Morpheus leaves his mini birthday celebration at The New Inn, he dies and comes back like a stupid video game character.

Is it all in his head? Why does Hob Gadling feel like an old friend? Why is his little sister talking to flying goldfish? Why does he keep tumbling down the stairs? And what the fuck is an “Endless”? 

It’s either he’s spiralling into madness or the universe is fucking with him. Either way, he needs a drink. And maybe a hug. Lots of them, actually.

[cherrygarden]

,

[starbuck]

i feel like i am going to disintegrate and explode but, in good news, i may have discovered a rare tree!

[dramioneasks]

hi!! i read this fic 2 years ago maybe?? it’s about how hermione finds out she’s a veela at hogwarts, and her mate is draco and he loses his virginity to her and whenever they’re apart draco is in a lot of pain. hermione and draco move in together while hermione goes to uni to study genetics and she finds out that she’s a veela because of experiments that grindelwald did and hermione is the only living experiment from his project and she and draco suspect that dumbledore was apart of it?? it was a wip, maybe abandoned but it was so well-written that i think ab it a lot, especially bc of the characterization of draco. anyway, i thought i book marked it but i’ve never been able to find it. help please lol

Anyone?

[eldragon-x]

Ford and Stan and Bill are all characters of all time to me in different ways

[violexides]

the American education system needing to be improved and more accessible because as it stands a lot of people lack access to adequate schooling and it has the potential to address really important subjects and provide social support for people

coexists with the idea that societally we should not be trying to pull every piece of information from the American education system because it is not equipped even remotely to address the knowledge that can come from a person's individual lived experience nor provide the information (en masse) that goes against the state that created it.

this is something i thinka bout a lot and try to re-articulate a lot because i am resistant to answering the question "why are you only studying abolition now, through a university?" but i think a lot of things can come out of that line of questioning. because it's not just about academia it's about the people forming those communities to have those dialogues and that is key that is critical. but that doesn't negate the fact that we should have school as a starting place, and a meeting place, for all of that.

[eatdirt420]

So what? It's some shitty Halloween party, what possibly could happen?

"I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself." Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | "I'm fine."

Relationships: Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Rhaenyra Targaryen & Elinda Massey, Rhaenyra Targaryen & Elinda Massey & Mysaria | Lady Misery (A Song of Ice and Fire), Laena Velaryon (Daugher of Corlys) & Laenor Velaryon Characters: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Laenor Velaryon, Elinda Massey, Mysaria | Lady Misery (A Song of Ice and Fire)

✵✷✵

Parties aren't Rhaenyra's thing; it's just a bunch of university-age kids getting drunk off their asses and making asses of themselves. Still, it's freshman year, the first year away from her parents, and her roommates (Elinda and Mysaria) have decided that the only way they can celebrate Halloween is to become one of those fucking idiots. It's almost like they don't even care that midterms are coming up, but whatever— she's done plenty of studying; it can all wait till later, anyways.

Rhaenyra is scantily clad as Cleopatra, complete with a white cut out mini dress, gold chain headpiece, and gold gladiator sandals. The only thing she has that brings any semblance of warmth is a dainty red chiffon scarf wrapped around her upper arms like a shawl. This ensemble is, of course, an oversight on her part; it's brumal inside and out.

(The venue itself, complete with a bonfire outside, has been rented out courtesy of the Velaryon family, which is sure to earn Laena and Laenor some popularity points. Neither of these facts were known to Rhaenyra, who hadn't even planned on being there in the first place and l, likely wouldn't even care if she knew. All that information would come later from Mysaria's morning tea gossip session.)

Rhaenyra, for the most part, stays inside, but at one point she decides to take a peek outside towards the bonfire. She searches for the pink of Elinda's princess dress or the striking red of Mysaria's femme fatale ensemble, but finds neither. Braving in the cold for just a moment, she ventures outside to get a better look. Surely, they hadn't left her here, alone, and without a phone.

In sparce, separate groups around the bonfire are imbellic students that have decided that the fire is enough to chase away the cold. In one of these groups (further away from the door), stands the woman she knows as Laena from one of Rhaenyra's elective classes. She's wearing a long black leather jacket, almost like a duster, and what appears to be some form of tights, likely beneath a short dress hidden by the jacket. She's got on turquoise socks and black tennis shoes. Her hair is pulled back in a thick white ponytail, tied off with a turquoise and black ribbon.

Laena turns to her, dressed like a Euphoria cheerleader underneath her leather jacket. She gives her a once over, then turns to a black man dressed as a cowboy and whispers something in his ear. He turns back to her with a smile and shoves at her shoulder.

At this, Rhaenyra turns away and scans the crowd for either Elinda or Mysaria; she finds neither, but makes her way inside towards the bar to start on another beer anyway. Originally, she planned to wallow mysteriously with the bartender's ear, but the crowd there gives her heebie-jeebies. She's handed another Guinness and makes her way towards the bathrooms where the crowds are sparse (completely opposite to the dancefloor and double french doors to the outside world).

Rhaenyra finds herself immensely bored. She's got no phone and no social entertainment in her corner; the most she can do is get herself completely wasted so she will no longer be cold, or watch all her classmates dance together, smiling from ear to ear. She likes to do the first, but is very rudely interrupted; she can't seem to find it in her to be annoyed.

"Rhaenyra," Laena greets her, smelling of smoke.

"Laena," Rhaenyra acknowledges in return, "Gaelic 1A, yeah?"

"That'd be me," there's a slightly tense silence, save for the other moving party-goers, as she leans against the wall, "you don't strike me as a Celtic major."

"No, no— uhm," Rhaenyra clears her throat and leans back away from Laena's easy stance, "Politics, Philosophy and Economics— I just wanted to… learn… Gaelic…"

"Ah," Laena takes a swig from her cider, "you're a true academic, then."

"I take it you are majoring in… Celtic?"

"Celtic and Linguistics," Laena gazes at her lips for a moment too long before averting back to her eyes, "parents wanted me to go to University, and I figure it'll help when I join the Armed Forces."

"Oh," Rhaenyra adjusts her stance subtly (even subconsciously, not knowing that she's moving at all) and brings her beer to her lips, "you think yourself a soldier, I take it."

"I think o' myself a doer," she shrugs, watching her drink her beer with an underlying intensity, "figure I can do better work fighting then I can working an office job."

She smiles warmly in return, despite the not-quite-warm air, "how noble of you."

The two of them fall into one of those lapsed silences that occurs when you've known each other for long enough to graduate past passing small talk, but not long enough to know what comes next. Some people combat this by asking mundane, get-to-know-you questions: favorite color?, any hobbies?, recent holiday excursions?. While this is a tried and true tactic, it's not always the most effective. Sometimes one of the parties will give into impulsivity and suggest going somewhere else altogether: somewhere more quiet, more quaint, more… personal.

A door opens, sending in a ghastly draft; Rhaenyra shivers involuntarily against it, pushing herself subtly colder to Laena as a way of creating a human shield.

Laena deflects the silence, "aren't you freezing?"

"I'm fine. I've got," Rhaenyra lifts her scarf with a shrug.

"A scrap of fabric," Laena counters with a furrowed brow, "its brass monkeys outside; not much better in here."

"I'll blame my piss-poor planning and walk it off," she shrugs, twirling her now-empty bottle and ignoring the sudden rush of heat in her bloodstream.

"You'll get frostbite," Rhaenyra opens her mouth to argue, but she beats her to the punchline, "d'you want my jacket? I swear on my mother, I won't mind."

As some sort of aside, Laena takes the bottle out of Rhaenyra's hand and passes it to the man (when did he get here???) she was talking to earlier. They have some sort of exchange (that Rhaenyra can't quite hear) before he rolls his eyes and leaves the two of them alone again.

"Look, I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself," Rhaenyra takes a step back, her skin raised in goosebumps (not from the cold).

"Of course you can," Laena laughs. The sound is cruel, but not mean, "but that's not what I asked, pretty girl."

Laena straightens up as a group brushes by them to get to the bathrooms, pulling Rhaenyra away from them and towards a more hidden alcove by the 'employees only' area. There, in the internal alleyway, she crowds her against the wall. That is, she uses her hands to make sure Rhaenyra doesn't hit the brick too hard before pulling slightly away, her right hand just above her head, palm against the bricks.

"Are you… trying to intimidate me?"

"Depends on whether or not it's working," Laena backs up a bit when she sees the flash of anxiety in Rhaenyra's eyes. She switches tactics, "look, no strings attached— I'm just looking for somewhere to hang my jacket, but if you're not cold…"

"I wouldn't really know what to do with," Rhaenyra raises her scarf again, this time much more pathetic than the last. It almost feels like an excuse; she longs for another beer.

"I can help with that, too, y'know," Laena half-whispers, making it clear it's only for her to hear, "if you'd like."

She looks at her— really looks at her: past all the glitter and entrancing smiles. Laena's offer is genuine, for she truly cares about whether or not she'll get frostbite. The sound is foreign on her tongue when she whispers back, "okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thank Tyraxes," Laena leans back a bit, giving Rhaenyra another brush of the cool night air, "I was beginning to wonder if all that studying stole your reason."

"It's not—"

Laena pulls the scarf out of Rhaenyra's grasp, pulling it into a condensed line in her hands. She takes her left hand and carefully puts it on her waist, using it to pull her closer and effectively grasp the end of the scarf. When she's got it threaded around the back, Rhaenyra half-wonders if she's gonna use the scarf to kiss her.

Rhaenyra banishes the thought as Laena flawlessly ties the scarf up.

With that out of the way, Laena slowly removes her jacket and pulls it onto Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra herself is dumbfounded, making no moves to help (which is, of course, Laena's intent). She is caught like a deer in headlights beneath her caring ways. Her stomach swoops dramatically, and she forces herself to refrain from leaning in to leave a kiss on her cheek.

Laena pulls away with a mischievous smile, her tongue poking between her teeth, "what were you saying?"

Rhaenyra swallows harshly, "nothing."

Laena fixes her leather jacket's collar, flattening it unnecessarily. If Rhaenyra didn't know any better, she'd say she was obnoxiously flirting with her; a buried part of her hopes she is.

"See you around, Rhae," Laena smirks, giving her one more once-over before vanishing amongst the crowd.

Rhaenyra takes a moment to breathe, but it does nothing to ease the rising tension in the center of her chest. She finds herself frazzled in the dark leather of Laena's coat. If she turns her nose into the collar, she will find the scent of fresh sea salt. Later in life it'll provide her with a sense of security, a sense of home, that she didn't know beforehand. For now, it makes her feel nervous. She bites her lip, turns her eyes to the ceiling, makes a small prayer to whatever Gods might be listening, and walks back out into the party.

Rhaenyra will return the jacket come Monday, for now she's just concerned about sticking to her plans of sipping Guinness 'til the sun comes up. Her next three beers are paid for, but the bartender keeps the benefactor unknown.

Rhaenyra doesn't remember most of the night, but she knows she wasn't cold; her throbbing hangover reminded her of whose fault that was.

[vintageskeletons]

post about em bby, tell me about those ocs

you have no idea how incredibly bad i feel to have left this ask rotting for two weeks, so bad that i'm willing to just overlook the pet name term we somehow got going on now? (like what the hell dude i don't even know your favourite ice-cream flavour??? tell me the third letter of your fake internet name or whatever at least, give me something to work with smh)

warning : vin is about to be annoying and start rambling boy run away

anyway! i'm soooo happy you asked about my children, but unfortunately for them they have the most shittiest parent. i literally don't have their names, full design and characters down let alone a coherent reference sheet ajdncsjncnsj. (only a google docs full of brain vomit and two pages of just names i might never use)

i do however have this half assed sketch-doodle thing that i gave up on polishing so you're getting it as is :)

rough translation : 1) thank god ghosty isn't with us right now 2) i'm getting chills and the air is already freezing. 3) careful idiot, this is the second time you've said his name. 4) hush, he's not freaking bloody mary what's wrong with you? 5) *insert bomb ass profanities that would sound less epic if translated*

btw this is only four out of supposedly six of them 〒▽〒 stay tuned for the other two's debut whenever that might be.....

[mistryofuniverse]

Extraterrestrial Incident In Berkshire: The Story Behind The Mysterious Lights 👽

Read the unusual incident that occurred on September 1, 1969, in Berkshire, Massachusetts, United States.