#ok now back to writing

[mattlafleuronlyfans]

recalling me and my sister talking about the griddy when we were drunk on christmas eve and she didn't know where it came from and i was like "uhhm it was invented by my sweet baby boy minnesota vikings wide receiver justin jefferson" and she was like "i dont know who that is" and i was like "I JUST TOLD YOU WHO HE IS"

[morningstarwrites]

stupid scenario #1:

they went to a pop concert but alastor has no idea who the singer is

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[talaok]

Feminine rage this feminine rage that

This is anger

This is revenge

This is every survivor’s fury

This is a kid who’s gone through hell and is exhausted.

This is desperation, terror, frustration.

And Bella delivered it all effortlessly.

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[frownyalfred]

me dropping in random pieces of lore like JK Rowling: actually in eye in the sky the only reason J’onn isn’t around helping Kal control Bruce’s mind via telepathy is because he was forced to use his powers on Bruce (to reveal the location of his bases, children, fall back resources etc) and Bruce, under torture, reversed the telepathic link out of pure desperation and broke J’onn. Made him catatonic, or near to it. Not on purpose, maybe, but through the sheer weight of his horror at revealing those locations to Kal and the Regime. And J’onn, on his way out of Bruce’s mind before becoming catatonic, acquiesced to Bruce’s silent plea and erased the memories with the last of his coherence. So Bruce had a jagged hole in his mind on purpose. And I’m sure it hurts.

[imaredshirt]

Give me a Stan who thinks Fiddleford doesn't know how to throw a punch, much less defend himself in a fight with your average goon, so one morning he takes it upon himself to show the nerd a few basic jabs and hooks and maybe an uppercut or two behind the cabin, because let's face it, there's gonna be a time when Stan can't be there to take a hit for the guy or defend his nerd butt. So he's gonna teach him some stuff for his own peace of mind.

Fiddleford just kind of genially goes along with it, following Stan around the back of the cabin and watching with hands on his hips and a smile as Stan gets into position.

"This is one of the most basic punches in the world, so pay attention, 'cause I'm not gonna show you again," Stan says, knees slightly bent and fists up.

Fidds nods. "You've got my full attention, Stanley."

Stan isn't sure if he's imagining the way Fidds is eyeing him up and down, but he automatically flexes his arms a little more than he needs to. Up ahead, Ford is sitting on a tree stump and taking samples of the air or something (Stan had stopped listening to Ford's explanation once his words went from interesting to Big Science Shit that Stanley Does NOT Care About) and he's watching them with this amused grin, rolling his eyes skyward when Stan won't stop flexing and showing his arms off.

Stan ignores him and rolls his shoulders before jabbing his fists forward in a quick one-two. "There - you catch that?"

Fidds has got his arms crossed now and gives Stan a thumbs up. "Sure did!"

"See, just like this," Stan says, and shows him again despite saying earlier that he wouldn't.

He shows him a few more punches, going over each one a couple times before telling the engineer to mirror him, even getting in close to adjust the guy's scrawny arms and balled fists. He's being real professional about it and everything and doesn't understand why Ford keeps grinning and shaking his head at them, which is making him a little incensed but he stamps it down because Fidds is watching him with this nerdy, dopey smile while letting himself be maneuvered around and he's gotta learn to defend himself 'cause Stan can't stand the thought of some jerkwad wiping that smile off the nerd's face.

"See," he says near the end of the lesson, tapping his fist right against Fidds’s chin. "Do it right and your fist'll hit right here."

Fidds tilts his head a fraction at the touch. "Well alright then, seems easy enough."

"Yeah, like I said, if you do it right. Gimme your hand-" he takes Fidds’s wrist and taps the guy's balled fist against his own stubbly jaw. "Right here. You got that?"

Fidds nods. "Sure do!"

"Good." Stan drops Fidds’s wrist and gets into position again. "Then come on - lay one on me."

Fidds pulls back and blinks at him. "Come again?"

"Hit me!" Stan taps his jaw. "Right here!"

The guy suddenly looks nervous and galnces over at Ford for help. "Hit you? Stanley, I don't think-"

This is what Stan means. Fidds isn't always gonna be able to look to him or Ford to save him. He gets this weird, uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Fidds facing off against some asshat on his own, and that alone is enough to keep him from letting the guys off easy, if only to get rid of the weird feeling. Maybe a bit selfish but he doesn't care.

"Ah, come on, one little punch ain't gonna hurt ya, Fidds."

"I'm not worried about me," Fidds says, and then frowns when Stan barks a laugh.

"You think you're gonna hurt ME?"

Fidds is still frowning when Ford calls over in an amused, warning tone, "This is not a good idea, Stanely!"

"Just worry about your air test or whatever and leave us alone," Stan calls back. Ford shrugs and scribbles something in his journal, and when Stan turns back to Fidds, Fidds is finally getting into position.

He looks unsure, watching Stan nervously as Stan stands before him with his arms crossed.

"Hey, not bad form - you ready?"

"Well, I suppose so," Fidds says, accent coming in a little thicker than before. "Stan, if you're sure, I should probably warn ya-"

"Don't tell me nothing, just punch me!"

Fidds presses his lips into a line and throws his fist - and jabs Stan on the chin just hard enough to tilt Stan's head half an inch to the side.

"That's it?" Stan guffaws and shakes his head. "That was barely a tap!"

"I don't wanna hurt ya!" Fidds says, sounding so conflicted that Stan gets this urge to pull him into a headlock and ruffle his hair and drive the worry away.

Instead he riles him up.

"Please," he says. "Fidds, look - one of these days I'm not gonna be there to take a hit for you, and then what're you gonna do? Just let some jerk punch ya around?"

Fidds looks slightly perplexed. "Where is this all comin from? No, Stanley, I am NOT gonna just let some jerk punch me around."

"Good! So you gotta learn to defend yourself!" Fidds still looks unsure, so Stan tries a different angle. "Okay, how 'bout this - what if some jerks are beating up on me and Ford, huh? You're just gonna let em?"

Fidds looks up. "What? No, I am not!"

"You're gonna defend us?"

"Dangnabbit, Stan - of course I am!"

"Not gonna let us get our teeth kicked out?"

"What!? No!"

"Then show me!" Stan slaps a hand against his own chin. "Right here, come on! I'm some jerk who just threw your friend Stan to the ground and I'm about to kick him in the gut, what're ya gonna-"

The blow lands hard. Stan's head jerks to the side and he's thrown off balance, and he sees actual stars before his vision clears again and he realizes he's crumpled on the ground. His head swims as hands pull him around onto his back.

"Mother o pearl!" Fidds gasps. He's got his hands on Stan's face, careful touch at complete odds with the punch he'd just landed in the same place. "Are you alright? I am so sorry! I hit ya and you weren't even ready and - you just got me so riled up and I tried to tell ya and I shoulda said earlier instead o just lettin ya show me all those moves, but I just wanted to, well - goddangit, Ford, this ain't funny."

Ford's laughing as he comes up behind them, looking down at where Stan is staring kinda dazedly up at Fidds, who's kneeling by his side in the cool grass. "We did try to tell him, Fiddleford."

"Tell me what?" Stan demands. His jaw is already aching but Fidds’s hands feel kinda good so he doesn't tell him to move.

"Fiddleford was a boxing champion back back in his hometown," Ford says.

Stan blinks. "Bwuh-?"

"Not much of a champion," Fidds says with a wince, but he's blushing a bit as he goes on, "It was never anythin official, but - well, I did win more than a few matches at some backyard parties, see, and - well, people usually don't think I got any hittin power or can defend myself, but my Ma's been all too happy to teach me since I was little, and-"

The guy's rambling, and Stan quits being able to understand what he's saying half way through cause the accent is coming in thick and Ford’s chuckling and standing there looking proud of his best friend and Stan’s a little worried that he's still jarred from the hit, cause when he looks at Fidds kneeling there, one hand one Stan's chest and the other bashfully rubbing his neck while he rambles on - he's still seeing stars.

Later, while Stan sits in the living room with an bag of ice in his jaw and Fiddleford sitting next to him, still rambling about all the times he'd knocked a few guys into the mud in some backcountry hoedown get-together or whatever, Stan can lean back and relax and grin, knowing Fidds is gonna be just fine.

He can't wait to teach him wrestling.

[girlsdads]

#ok it’s giving girl dad wearing his daughter’s handmade necklace special for him into work 🥺🥺😩😩

couldn’t stop thinking about this tag of mine, wrote a little smth about it 🥰

The stomping footfalls racing down the hall behind him could only be those of a toddler. Daniel turns and squats just in time for his tiny blonde projectile of a child to come barreling into his chest. The force sends Daniel falling back onto his butt with a surprised oof, his daughter giggling delightedly in his lap.

“Hey, Ellie-bug,” Daniel smiles. “Daddy’s gotta go to work, remember how we talked about it and you promised to be a big girl?” He brushes a strand of hair away from her mouth where it’s gotten stuck in a little smear of jam leftover from her breakfast. Daniel had shown Max how to make it just the way she likes—the pancake batter shaped in the silicone star mold, the silly faces drawn in jelly and jam.

Ellie’s head bobs up and down dutifully, but she makes no move to get up.

Max appears from the kitchen then, looking like a man who’s been fighting a losing battle with the second pancake. There’s a splatter of thick batter on his white t-shirt. He’s holding the spatula like it’s offended him somehow. Daniel looks at him over their daughter’s head, and loves him fiercely.

“She is of course the biggest girl,” Max says. Ellie grins proudly. “Why don’t you give Daddy your present now, then we will finish your pancakes.”

Daniel watches her grey-blue eyes light up like she’s just now remembering why she came running at him in the first place. She reaches a chubby hand into the bib pocket on her overalls, embroidered Enchanté script stretching as she roots around and produces a string of brightly-colored plastic beads. She holds it out to him expectantly.

Daniel takes the strand delicately in hand, wraps it around the backs of his fingers and rotates his wrist to get a good look. It’s a necklace, probably more of a choker given its relatively small circumference, the fat pony beads the only real indication it was made by a child. The powder pink and fuchsia beads are separated by interspersed pearlescent white orbs and clear sparkly stars. Smack in the center is a single number bead, a glittery pink three.

“Jeepers, did you make this for me? It’s beautiful!” Daniel says, and means it. He’s already been wanting to talk to his team about adding a jewelry collection to a future drop, and what better inspiration?

Ellie nods excitedly. “Papa helped me do a…,” she pauses, squints and tilts her little head, searching for the word, “…a pattern!”

“We made it the other day, while you were out with Blake,” Max chimes in. “For good luck.” He sounds almost bashful, like maybe it wasn’t their daughter’s idea in the first place. Daniel’s heart is so swollen it’s threatening to leak out through the gaps in his ribcage.

“How’d I get so lucky, huh?” Daniel muses, softly, mostly to himself. He stretches the elastic over his head, feels the smooth plastic three settle in the hollow of his throat. His pulse thrums evenly against it, grounding.

He flashes his biggest smile at his family. “How do I look?”

“Pretty, Daddy!” Ellie throws herself forward again, wrapping her arms around Daniel’s neck. It leaves him locking eyes with Max, who’s gazing down at the two of them like nothing else in the universe exists. Daniel can never quite get used to that look—still feels butterflies dancing up the back of his throat, his stomach dropped into a glorious freefall.

“Beautiful, Daniel,” Max says, reverent. “Always.”

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.

[ambeauty]

Was it scary when you met your culinary idol and he stared at you like he’d found his? Was it scary when he told you that you are everything else? Was it scary how much he trusted you with everything so quickly? Was it scary when he confided in you for the first time about his brother? Was it scary when he defended you stabbing his cousin? Was it scary when he turned out to be exactly who you didn’t want him to be but different? Was it scary when he apologized to you first? Was it scary when you accepted his offer to share a dream? Was it scary when you didn’t shirk off the way his hands always seem to find their way on you? Was it scary when his focus left you? Was it scary when he asked you how you were feeling? Was it scary when he promised not to let your fail? Was it scary when he gifted you custom chef whites? Was it scary when he asked you to keep his brother’s final words at your expo station? Was it scary when he screamed out for you during the soft opening of your restaurant? Was it scary when he said he was never going to let it happen again? Was it scary when he offered you a third share of his restaurant in an official contract? Was it scary when his mental health started deteriorating in front of you but you still wanted to take care of him? Was it scary when you got an offer for something more perfect and didn’t immediately run away? Was it scary when you tried to find the words to tell him what you were really feeling and couldn't? Was it scary when he demanded you take your place at his side amongst some of the best chefs in the world? Was it scary when you realized maybe you can't leave him because there's too much love shared between you?

Sydney’s never going to grow if she doesn’t learn how to get over her fears. Her fear of failure and her fear of losing the people that she loves. Loving somebody is a truly scary thing but at some point we’ve got to stop running away if what we want and who we need has been right there.

[sibylsleaves]

thinking about how little compassion buck probably has for Buck 1.0 still to this day......thinking about how he still views that version of himself as just this fuck up instead of a young man with heaps & heaps of trauma who was given absolutely zero tools to deal with any of it......thinking about the disdain with which he said "you mean you don't want him to end up like ME" about chris in 7x01......

[archangeldyke-all]

How would Sevika react to her baby being born? Like listening to reader scream curse words at her as she pushes and Sevikas smiling cause she’s never heard her sweet wife say such words.

Then when the baby is finally born they look just like Sevika and she can’t help but stare in amazement and love. Kissing reader all over her face and saying words of affirmation

HAHAHAHHA

men and minors dni

she's never been more in love with you than she is in this exact moment, with you sweating through a paper hospital gown, screaming bloody murder, and clawing through the skin on her hand as you push your daughter out into the world.

sure, she just witnessed you shit yourself and you look like you're mid-exorcism. sure, she nearly passed out when she took a peek between your legs and saw your cunt stretched and bleeding. but you're the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

"what the fuck are you smiling at you smug motherfucker?!" you snarl as another contraction wracks your body. she grins, ducking down to kiss your sweating temple, and if you had any more strength in you you'd smack the smile right off her face.

"you're amazing." she says with wonder, a sparkle in her eye. "you're the sexiest, strongest, most powerful woman i've ever met. i'm so in love with you." she says adoringly.

"you're never, ever touching me again, you piece of shit!" you growl. sevika just laughs and nods.

"whatever you want, baby." she says, still smiling.

"i fucking hate you!" you scream as you push through your contraction.

"i love you more than i've ever loved anything." she replies.

"i can't believe you did this to me!"

before she can reply with an annoyingly soothing response, the doctor gasps from between your legs. "ten centimeters!"

you whine, tears racing down your cheeks at the horrible searing tearing feeling between your legs.

"it's time to push, baby." she whispers soothingly.

"stop fucking talking to me!" you growl. sevika laughs, kissing you again, then she crawls into the hospital bed behind you to hold you from behind, both of your hands in hers, her legs enveloping your torso, your back against her chest, just like you practiced in your classes.

"i'm gonna marry you once this is all over." she says in your ear as you catch your breath from your last contraction. you barely get thirty seconds between the waves of pain, but you manage to bark out a laugh at this.

"we're already married." you say. sevika continues to kiss your head and neck.

"so we'll renew our vows." she says. "and our baby can be there. she'll be the officiant." she says. you laugh again, and it quickly turns into a moan of pain.

"i'm divorcing you for this." you cry out. sevika laughs and kisses your head.

"i'll win you back." she says. you elbow her as you sit forward for your next push, getting a little satisfaction at the little grunt of pain she lets out.

"i can see the head!" the doctor says. you scream and sevika gasps, and then--

the sweetest, tiniest little cries you've ever heard start up between your legs. you gasp, and sevika gasps, and the doctor rises from between your legs with a slimy, blood covered, wrinkly lump of flesh flailing in her arms.

"a beautiful, healthy baby girl." she says, grinning as she walks the baby over to the head of the bed for you to gawk at.

at the sight of her scrunched up sobbing face, all the pain in your body seemingly disappears. an entirely new type of tears well up in your eyes, and you almost tackle the doctor when she turns away with the baby in her arms. it's only sevika's hold on you that keeps you in place, her voice in your ear gently reminding you that they gotta clean the baby first.

"you wanna cut the cord, mama?" the doctor asks, looking over her shoulder at sevika a she and the nurses quickly wipe up your crying baby. sevika chokes on a sob from behind you and nods, pressing a solid kiss against your head before scrambling out of bed to stand beside the group of medical professionals, shakily snipping the umbilical cord, officially separating your baby from your body.

when she's all clean sevika holds cradles your daughter into her arms, gasping down at her crying little face as you deliver the placenta and the doctors clean you up.

nothing hurts anymore. they quickly hook you up to a steady stream of morphine, and the hormones flooding your body make time all floaty and make you all spacey.

one minute, there's a gaggle of nurses surrounding you, the next, it's just sevika, standing beside your hospital bed, cooing down at your daughter.

she gently makes her way back in bed with you, placing your little girl in your arms, hooking her chin over your shoulder as you both grin down at your crying little girl.

"holy shit." you whisper. sevika giggles from behind you.

"she's gorgeous."

"she looks like a raisin." you whisper. sevika bursts into laughter, pressing endless kisses to your face.

you burst into tears, and sevika coos behind you, squeezing you to her chest.

"she's so perfect." you cry. "it's our baby sev. our daughter." you cry.

your baby girl's calmed down now, seemingly recognizing your voice, her little eyes blinking up into space. you know she can't see yet, but it seems like she's looking right up at her moms.

"oh fuck." you cry. "she looks just like you." you say through tears. sevika's sniffling behind you, seeming to realize the same thing.

she does look just like sevika. even though she's only a few minutes old, and her face is so itty bitty-- she's got sevika's eyes. and sevika's nose. and sevika's lips. and two or three wisps of sevika's ebony hair decorate her head.

"shit, this is no fair. i'm the one who carried her for nine months and she comes out lookin' like your clone!" you cry. sevika chuckles behind you, reaching down to gently press one of her fingers against your baby's palm.

"just means she's gonna have your personality, babe." she says. "another sweetheart."

you giggle, leaning back against your wife.

both of you laugh as your daughter grunts and smacks her free hand against sevika's wrist.

"no way, she's all you. she came out swinging and everything." you say through laughs.

sevika snorts and kisses your head.

"i love you so much." she whispers. you sigh, turning your neck to press your lips against hers.

"i love you too." you say.

"you're not gonna divorce me?" she asks, laughing against your lips. you smile.

"no, i guess not. she's worth all the pain." you say, looking back down at your daughter. sevika smiles against your head.

"welcome to the world, little fucker." sevika whispers.

in your arms, your daughter coos.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[mephoj]

nickel and balloon would be so much more interesting if people explored the way nickel became everything awful that balloon used to be but so much worse ironically all in the name of "protecting" everyone from that history repeating. and not softboy tsundere yaoi or whatever is going on in those tags rn

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[zhongrin]

i. i've been thinking about this lantern rite scene so much... zhongli looks so hskdjsldjlsdj here ok i couldn't help myself leave me alone hnggg i love him i love him i love h- and like. what if.

what if you're also invited to the feast because obviously zhongli is invited so naturally, he brings you, his spouse, as his plus one...

and in this scene you're just so mesmerized by your husband, you're staring. very blatantly, i might add. food forgotten, mouth half open, chopsticks in the air, the food you were about to put in your mouth already fallen down onto your plate. you hear "our consultant truly is impressive" from hu tao and you inwardly agree. he truly is impressive. magnificent. a sight to behold. with a chiseled jaw and a pair of the prettiest eyes, skin carved by the gods and soft silky hair, kissable lips and fluttering eyelashes-

and then zhongli, sensing your stare, glances towards you. your eyes meet. you blush. he gives you a tiny smile, eyes softening at the edges. you proceed to silently scream into your palms.

bonus: meanwhile, lumine who was sitting beside you giggles in amusement. paimon's feels herself losing her appetite.

goodness, as always, this couple is far too lovey-dovey for their own good...

[deoidesign]

I wanna make some more dedicated tutorial posts rather than just vague answering asks so what should I do first?

Decent likelihood I'll do them all and maybe others after but my time is extremely limited and I think I've answered asks on all of these topics before!