#f/o: sinister science lesbian

[solar-ships]

5 on the 'things you said' prompts for Moira?

“Just speak from your heart”, Sigma had said. “Tell them what you feel without overthinking it.”

Well, it was a lot easier said than done.

When Moira came home and Leander greeted her at the door, she saw an opportunity, but with his arms around her waist, what came out of her mouth was, “Are you going to let me in?” He was unphased by her usual level of snark, eyes glittering up at her, but she felt like she was dying inside.

He cooked dinner after a recipe she had given him, humming along to whatever music was streaming through his headphones, and she watched him from the kitchen table. She had brought some work with her, intending to get it done in the evening, but barely spared it a glance. Watching him, so wrapped up in what he was doing and with a genuine smile on his lips, was hopelessly distracting.

Eventually, their eyes met and he pushed his headphones aside. “Did you want something?” he asked.

She did, and yet, she just shook her head. “No. I just enjoy watching you work.”

He smiled, then swore to himself as he had to pull a frying pan from the stove to keep the food from burning.

Dinner passed with enough silent lapses for Moira to think on what she wanted to say, but anything she came up with only felt wrong - too stilted, too formal, or too tainted by her usual dry wit. How hard could it be to tell someone that they were genuinely important to her? Impossible, apparently.

They watched a movie with Leander’s head on her lap, and she gathered up the courage to pause it, the two of them stewing in an ever-deepening silence, only for her to finally ask him if he wanted a cup of tea.

He fell asleep before she did that night, for once, and she sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. The bedroom was quiet, but her mind was running a mile a minute. This was impossible. I love you, she wanted to say, but somehow, those words felt flat, too simple and pre-determined to communicate anything. You’re valuable to me. Having you in my life is an asset. I love it when you ask me about my work, or tell me about your own. I want to trust you with every ugly part of me. I’m so grateful you can put up with my madness. I’m afraid of losing you, and that’s a feeling I don’t know what to do with.

He stirred, and Moira froze. His eyes opened, blinking sleepily. “Moira?” he muttered, only half-awake. “Something wrong?”

She reached out, stroked his face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “No, a chroí. Everything is fine.”

[solar-ships]

Kissy...

found the cutest picrew ever

[solar-ships]

Whump brain awake, thinking very hard about Moira's right arm.

Like. Whatever's going on with it is very much not right, but we have no details about it, other than that it's the result of self-experimentation. Is her body rejecting it? Treating it like an infection? Is there tissue death? I'm currently having a lot of fun with the idea of her lifedrain backfiring on her, eating away at her own body

What’s the pain like, and how bad is it? Does she feel ashamed, like it's a failure she has to literally carry around with her, or does she think it was a necessity? She prioritizes science over everything, including herself, so would she think it's a necessary sacrifice? Is there a way to fix it? Would she fix it if she could, or just attempt to treat the pain to the best of her ability? How much of her irritability and lack of patience is just from her being in constant pain? Does she smell of rot?

I'm just. Thinking. I've had a craving for angst recently, and the idea of Moira trying to stave off her body decaying around her is... hoo boy

[solar-ships]

Y’all ever feel like you’re so in love with someone that you can’t breathe?

I can’t. I CAN’T. Stop thinking about Moira. Why is it always that I fall the hardest for the people I’m in denial over the longest? I found her years ago, turned away because I didn’t play her source game (among a few other reasons), only for me to be reminded of her a month or two ago, and she hasn’t left my head since.

I love her so much. I can literally just think of her and my day will be better. I want to kiss her pretty face and watch her reaction, whether it’s a smug smile or having to take a moment to process that that was a thing that happened. I want to lay my head in her lap while she’s working, as she strokes my hair as a stim. I want to dance with her in the living room. I want to talk to her just to listen to the way she purrs certain words, that slight rasp in her voice, her flat sarcasm, every time her accent comed out. I want to cuddle her in bed in the morning, both of us complaining that we should probably get up, neither of us actually making an effort to do so.

I’m so fucking in love with everything she does, I’m down so bad, I don’t know how to deal with this

[solar-ships]

Me, every day: Good morning!

Moira, most days: Is it really?