#so sorry for the wait 🥺

[theleechyskrunkly]

🤝: How did they meet in the first place? What was there first impression of each other?

🫶: Who ended up falling first? Which of them actually realized that they’d fallen in love first?

🦀: How did they handle realizing they were in love? Embarrassed? Nervous? Mad?

For all your ships :D

Sorry for making you wait so long for the answer to these, I seriously haven’t had motivation 😭 as a form of apology, this post will be mega long :)

🤝🫶🦀 for Idiaige (IdiaxPaige)

🤝- Well, I’d say they officially met at a cosplaycon, but Idia had his eye on Paige since the entrance ceremony when he overheard him talking about one of Idia’s favorite (and criminally underrated) anime. But Idia being Idia, he didn’t have the courage to go up and talk to Paige directly, so Ortho, seeing this as an opportunity for Idia to make a friend, organized this whole complex plan to get them to meet at a cosplaycon wearing cosplays of the characters from said anime.

They both had good first impressions of each other, especially Idia’s first impression of Paige for the reasons above. Paige just thought Idia looked cool in the cosplay. He also thought his hair was fire (pun intended), Paige’s mind is very simplistic.

🫶- Idia for both. He realized he’d fallen head over heels and didn’t even bother going into denial because just thinking about Paige made his hair go pink 😭 Paige has yet to realize he’s in love and Cater has plans to kill him for it /j.

🦀- Idia just about lost his mind. He’d spent all his life saying how falling in love was so scringe ( meaning super cringe. Idia terms 🤷‍♀️) and hoping for the downfall of happy couples and now HE was the one falling in love?! Nuh-uh! He was far too alpha male for such a thing! And what about his waifus?! He couldn’t possibly cheat on them! (These are the exact thoughts going through his head at the time.)

Paige was set on denial when he felt just a tinge of attraction towards Idia, I mean come on, he couldn’t possibly like Paige back anyways, right?

🤝🫶🦀 for Aurivil (AurinellexVil)

🤝- These two actually used to be in the same class back in freshman year (that is, Aurinelle’s first freshman year, the one he flunked). Aurinelle and Vil sat next to each other in almost every class, and often worked in pair/group projects together. Aurinelle’s first impression of Vil was that he was a very proud individual with great confidence, but who lived up to his name and was actually rather kind if he liked you well enough. He also thought Vil to be very attractive. So overall a decently good first impression.

Vil’s first impression of Aurinelle was that he wasn’t nearly as intimidating as the rumors made him out to be. He acknowledged that Aurinelle carried himself with confident grace, similarly to himself. He was extremely beautiful, and Vil thought it a shame he wasn’t a part of Pomefiore. He did think Aurinelle was foolish for refusing to use surface magic, and thought he was just looking down at their magic as “inferior” to the strange magic Aurinelle used. These thoughts were soon corrected, but to this day Vil still let’s Aurinelle know how much a fool he is for failing freshman year because of his stubbornness. Overall, good first impression.

🫶- Aurinelle fell first, but didn’t realize it until his sophomore year because he and Vil didn’t interact much during Aurinelle’s second freshman year. The two began interacting more during their third year at NRC. Vil realized he’d fallen in love first, also during their third year. He decided to see if Aurinelle felt the same way by dropping subtle hints, even though his attitude towards him didn’t change much, so Aurinelle didn’t quite catch most of those hints, and thought Vil was just being his regular self. He did notice the increasing visits to Mostro lounge.

🦀- Answered here!

Tagging: @thehollowwriter @elenauaurs @cyanide-latte @distant-velleity @xen-blank

[handsplasticx]

Mr Birchum yaoi 🥺

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Congratulations on graduating, Snap! Wishing you all the best and continued success in life, buddy! [I mixed up my horse memes and realized halfway so here's 2 shitposts for the price of one XD ]

TWO GIFTS THIS SPECIAL DAY MY DEAR FRIEND THANK YOU SO MUCH

[gunsatthaphan]

มากกว่าที่รัก ♡

[emmyrosee]

Hi Emmy! I hope you are doing great. I love your writing and it genuinely makes me smile through tough times. I am currently studying for the mcat and it is taking a toll on me mentally and really testing my academic abilities to the point where it is overwhelming and I can't push myself to study (ahh sorry for the rant 😭). Anyway, if it is okay, could you write a comfort fic with akaashi keiji and him comforting you (reader) through something like this? Obviously you are not obligated to do so, so do not feel any pressure!! Thank you for turning my gloomy days a little brighter with your brilliant work!

YOURE ACTUALLY THE SWEETEST EVER AND IM GLAD MY PIECES ARE ABLE TO GIVE YOU A SENSE OF COMFORT WHILE YOURE WORKING SO HARD 🥺❤️

---

Your eyes water as your palm comes up to rub at them for the nth time that hour, reminding you that you've been plopped in this chair for who knows how long.

Too long.

You would sit and ponder just how long you've been here, just staring, but when you let your mind go there, your eyes sting and your bottom lip wobbles, and you don't have the energy to cry, nor the time to, if the bright light of your phone that flashes with a notification every few minutes is anything to go by.

You offer a shaky sigh, then go back to your laptop, fingers fatigued and heavy from the hours you’ve spent typing your life away. Nothing can prepare you, however, for the gentle feeling of fingers slipping over your shoulder and gently massaging, fingertips rolling into the tense knots just under the surface of the skin. You hum in relief and flutter your eyes shut as you lean your head back, gently resting against Keiji’s stomach. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” you mewl, stretching softly. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he chuckles. His thumbs squash into your shoulder blades and you wince softly at the pressure. “Hows studying going?”

“Terrible,” you whimper, and god, the wobble in your lip returns, and your eyes screw shut to try and block out the sting of tears biting at your waterline. “I… don’t want to study anymore, Keiji…”

“So don’t, my love,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “Just work your way out of focus mode and come be with me.”

“I can’t,” you sniffle. Then, your breathing escalates, “Keiji I can’t fail this, there’s no option there, I need to finish this, I need to pass-“

“Hey, hey,” he says, moving his hands up to gently cover your eyes with his hands, touch light and warm and the sudden weight across your exhausted vision welcome. “You’re going to do well, my love. You’re doing very well.”

“I don’t care,” you whimper. “I need to not fail.”

“You’re not going to fail,” he whispers, gently kissing your head again. “You’re just so tired, your brain is about to have a meltdown. You need to take a break.”

“I don’t have time for a break-“

“Make time,” he says, stern but loving. “Come on. Just some water. Let’s go drink some water, and then if you want to come back here and rot, I’ll let you.”

You sniffle. You try to think your exhausted brain back to the last time you even looked at a glass of water, let alone did anything, and you offer him a shaky sigh and slowly push out your chair. He steps aside to give you some room, and as you make a move to stand up, your knees buckle slightly.

“Woah,” he says, chuckling softly. “Get your legs back. Then we’ll go, yeah?” You nod and take a deep breath, trying to force your knees to stop being jelly and stand up straight. You feel ridiculous, unable to even stand properly, and frustration brews inside of you again as you struggle step by step.

“Let me go, Keiji.”

“Not until you can stand.”

“I can stand fine!”

“No, you can’t,” he says calmly. “And that’s okay. I’ll always be here to help you up.”

With that, a dam breaks. You let out a shaky sob and wail into the air, letting out hours of agony and despair from lack of confidence and determination, beating yourself up for not fully grasping a topic and cursing yourself for the field you picked. It’s not fair, this isn’t fair, and-

“Hey,” he says softly, snapping you out of your spiral. “What’s 2+2?”

“What?”

“What’s 2+2?”

“Uh…. 4?”

“Okay- what’s 3x3?”

“9?”

“Okay. So what’s 6x4?”

“Keiji, what’re you doing?”

“Helping your brain rewire itself,” he says firmly. “You’re so deep in your head that you can’t think of anything other than your spiral, so im guiding you out of it. What’s 6x4?”

“Uhm… 24.”

You hate to admit it, but it’s working. The basic math helps your brain focus on answering him, rather than the screams and howls in your brain. You sniffle and rest against him, legs slowly coming to life as you straighten up, little whispers of math questions helping you get your footing and mind back to a semi-stable state. You sigh shakily and answer each math problem calmly, and with time, you finally look up at him and sigh, “I don’t want to study anymore.”

“Let’s call it a night, okay?” He offers. “I’ll stop working too. We’ll have something to eat, drink some water, and take it one step at a time, okay?”

“Together?”

“Together.”

[chateautae]

hi <3

my lovelies are you still here? i'm thinking of dropping something 🥺

[tohruies]

🪶 : “think we’re goin’ a bit overboard?”

🌼 : “but it’s for the donation drive!”

THANK YOU SO MUCH @chocoramii for the sweetest and cutest ever tabico comm!!! 🍼⭐️🧸 based on this little vignette i had imagined for how we would have celebrated world health day this year hehe yesss! 🙈💗

[fridayiminlovemp3]

stuart 2008-2025 🐈‍⬛🪽💕❤️‍🩹

[roseyjustice]

Congrats Ezra on bagging that unhinged vampire circus leader, peace and love on hollownest 🫶🏼

[butmakeitgayblog]

Jumping in on the CI appreciation. The dynamic is just so fun and deceptively beautiful as messed up as they are. You are a great writer and have a unique way of captivating a reader. Kudos and much success however you choose to pursue your talent! Speaking of… have you written or plan on writing that blowout fight scene (post hospital release) where Lexa draws the proverbial line so to say?

CI fight 😈

///////////////////////

This is the stupidest you've ever felt in your life.

Which is saying a lot, considering the sheer amount of reckless and dumb shit you have done.

But this absolutely takes the cake you decide as your hired nurse wheels you into your lounge room, the sheets already turned back on your couch-turned-makeshift bed and the mountain of your wife's borrowed pillows that are already fluffed to within an inch of their goddamn life.

Your hip kills every time you try to stand on it and your back feels like it'd gone one too many rounds with a baseball bat, and thanks to the four fractured bones in your wrist, you can't even deal with it on your own with the use of a crutch or cane. So instead, you hang on to this fucking stranger and woddle over like a toddler, sweating through all three herculean steps it takes until you can sink down into the godsend that is your new recovery zone.

You wave her off with your good arm once she gets you settled. Tell her you're fine and to stop fucking hovering because you didn't even really need a nurse to move in with you to begin with.

But your wife had insisted and left no room for argument, and well... You're not very good at telling her no when she's upset.

So here the hell you are.

Your grousing is hushed by the sweeter notes of your wife's voice when she comes trailing in behind you with that familiar sharp clicking of her heels.

She apologizes for your lack of manners and tells RN Whats-her-name she can go get settled in the guest room that she'd already showed her - you suppose she must have gotten the grand tour at some point while you were still laid up in the hospital.

Ass out in a gown and perpetually high as a kite.

Not your finest point in life.

Not the lowest either.

At least the drugs made it a good time...

Your temple throbs when your 'guest' excuses herself and snaps the doors shut behind her, making you groan and reach to rub at the bandage taped to the side of your head.

Fingers quicker than yours catch you before you can do any damage.

"Don't," Lexa warns you in a whisper more gently than you had expected, considering she's had to remind you three times already today.

You murmur your sorries and pout because it hurts, but can't help but breathe lighter when she slips into the space between your legs.

Rather than settling in your lap as you'd foolishly hoped for, she perches on the edge of the coffee table instead. She smells so good and her gorgeous face is so serene when she gets comfortable and looks at you dead in the eye.

But then she folds her fingers together and she leans her elbows on her knees, and you already know you're in for some kind of ass chewing.

Fantastic.

She levels you with that 'wife look' she gets. The one that tells you that she means business.

Nobody warned you about that when you'd agreed to this whole 'marriage' thing.

"So," she breathes, only pausing to lick her kissable lips, "Welcome home, Darling."

You snort a laugh through your nose that still hurts where it's swollen but the good drugs kinda help you not care. "Thanks for having me, babe. Nice place you got here," you say in sarcasm-dipped words.

She merely hums and gives you a narrow-eyed grin that feels sexy and distinctly lethal.

"Yes. I've missed you in it. I've missed having you here. With me."

That softens you. Lulls you into a false sense of security.

"I missed you too, baby."

"Good. Then," she says in a quick breath that sounds not unlike ripping off a bandaid. "I wanted you to know that I've taken the liberty of finding a buyer. Well, a few of them, really. All predictably salivating over the collection. But I supposed it'd be appropriate that we talk about the logistics of this before moving forward. I'm open to deferring to your expertise in this field when it came to numbers because, frankly, I'm more than willing to just give the fucking things away. So, we should talk about this."

You smile, because you're an idiot, and you think it's hilarious that she's talking to you like one of her clients. But you also smile because you're a little high off your medicine, and she's really just so pretty, and because not one word of that made any sense.

"What's... 'this'? What're you— Talk about the logistics of what?"

"Selling your cars," she answers with an easy nod, like it absolutely should've been obvious.

The silence that rings through the apartment feels loud in your ears... before you burst out laughing right in her face.

"What?" you choke out and chuckle, because you must've heard that wrong. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said, my love." She reaches out boops the tip of your nose with a patronizingly scrunched smile. "You know I don't like repeating myself."

"That's cute, Lexa," you titter and swipe at the hand that's already so far out of reach.

"Oh I'm not kidding, Clarke."

"Okay. And I'm not selling my cars."

"No, actually, you are."

You scoff and use the shoulder that isn't currently trussed up in a sling to push you hair off your neck so you can see her better. Or... something.

Because all you really see is the calm of her smile. Those eyes that are sharp. Hollow. Unyielding. And if you'd looked beyond the swell of anger that suddenly bursts through your chest, you might've seen the whispered-smoke of terror that hid in their depths.

But you do not.

Instead you focus all of your righteous indignation and stubbornness that burns white hot. You give a derisive laugh, and shake your head, and level her with a cold stare of your own.

Making sure she hears your every word, loud and clear.

"No. The fuck. I am not."

It almost feels like victory when her smile falls away.

"Clarke," she says with a deathly click to your name, "I want those deathtraps gone."

"Lexa—"

"I don't care."

"Lexa—"

"Stop saying my name, because whatever comes after it, I promise you, I do not care."

"Well I don't really fucking care either," you spit just to get a rise out of her, "because I'm not doing it, and I don't give shit what you say, Alexandria."

Her jaw ticks to the side as her eyes flash with hellfire.

She hates that name and you know it but right now you just want her to be every bit as angry as you are.

"Okay," she says so quiet you barely hear her over the hammering of your heart as she pushes on her knees to stand up and hovers over you for a moment.

And you think it's a victory because it feels like a victory...

Until it does not.

Because she just nods.

And keeps nodding.

Just this slow up and down of her head, her eyes empty and her face cold, but not in the way that you fell in love with.

This only fills your chest with dread.

So it's a shock when she straddles your hips, planting one knee on each side and sinks down to sit in your lap. Her weight is comforting after your stay in the hospital, if not a little painful in the way it twinges your fucked up leg. But you don't even let yourself flinch because God you've missed this. You've missed her, and her scent, and the way she practically drapes herself over you.

Your good arm wraps around her waist and digs fingertips into the soft dip of her spine, pulling her flush against you. You soak up the flutter of her lashes at the feel of your breasts pressing against hers; the way she fidgets not to grind down like her body's muscle memory is obviously screaming at her to do.

Instead she stares at you through those dark hooded eyes, now so beautifully filled with emotions that make your heart pound out a more pleasant rhythm than before.

"I love you, Clarke," she says. Whispers.

And your breath catches in your chest.

Same as it does each time she says those words, so fleeting and so rare as they are that they pierce straight through the mushiest parts of your heart. Because you know she loves you. You know it in every single thing she does. But there's just... It's just... Nothing will ever rival these moments when she lets them slip out, so unguarded and vulnerable with you.

And really... that should've been a warning.

"And I love you, pretty girl," you whisper right back instead, grinning as she preens under the praise, so lost in her beautiful face you don't even remember there exists a world beyond her.

You watch her throat dip in a thick swallow, her hands smoothing up the length of your neck. She cups your cheeks as her eyes trace every line of your face... as if she were committing this moment to memory.

She shakes her head. Sadly.

"I adore you," she says again, softer still and with more conviction. "Everything. I adore everything about you, Clarke. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my entire life. And I'm always going to love you, no matter what."

When she kisses you then, in that moment, it's possibly the softest, purest thing you have ever known. She kisses you like it's the only thing she needs in this world and you hope she knows it's the same for you. Because her lips pillow and give under every caress of your lips, and her tongue slipping against yours feels like the only home you've ever known. It's one kiss among thousands you've shared. But you know you'll think of this one for years to come, and honestly if fighting gets you loving like this then you should really make a mental note to call her by her birth name more often...

She breaks the kiss with a sigh, and a shuddering breath against your lips.

"I love you. So, so much... I just want you to always remember that."

You barely have time to blink out of your haze when she extracts herself from your arms and your lap and your lips, and stands up on shakey legs.

She lets out a deep breath and smooths her hands along the front herself, rigidly primping herself free of any creases you might've left.

Her chin rises in that regal arch as she looks down at you and nods once again.

"I'll have our lawyer draw up the divorce papers in the morning."

Your hand snaps out when she turns to leave and catches her shirt cuff before you even have time to think, gritting your teeth to try and bite back the sudden shock of pain that slices up your arm and explodes through your shoulder.

"Wait, what the fuck did you just say?" you practically yelp.

Her icy glare drops to the hand that holds her, jaw flexing as she watches how bad you tremble.

"Let go of me."

"Uh, no—"

"If you don't," she cuts in, enunciating with lethal precision, "I'll have to rip my arm away, and that will hurt you more, and I don't want that. Now stop acting like a child, and let go of me."

You grit your teeth and fist her cuff harder through the cold sweat of pain. "I guess you'll have to hurt me then, because I'm not letting go until you repeat what the hell you just said."

"You heard me perfectly well, my love."

"No, I don't think I did."

"Then you'll figure it out tomorrow, won't you."

You let out a strangled sound and collapse back on the couch - both from the pain and the sheer terror ripping through you. "Lexa, what is this? What are you playing at? Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not playing at anything, I'm telling you that I'm not doing this with you ever again, Clarke," she says in her crisp business voice. "The hospitals. The sitting at your bedside. The wondering if you're ever going to be able to paint again. Watching you limp around for weeks, just to turn around and do it again. I'm done."

You roll your eyes at her dramatics. "Oh my god, are serious? It was just an accident—"

"One that could've killed you."

"It wasn't even my fault."

"That's not the point," she nearly growls, all fire and fangs. "This is your third accident in four fucking years. I can't keep doing this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?"

"Waiting around to lose you!"

Your ears ring at the volume of her shout.

You swallow as she takes a moment collect herself.

Feel the lump grow in your throat as she mindlessly fiddles with the diamond on her finger.

You know it's a habit that calms her when she's feeling particularly out of control. A tick she picked up and never seemed to kick somewhere around the third year you were married.

"I trusted you," she starts again, sounding calmer. Less shaken, but still frayed at the edges. "I told how I feel about you. I told you I wouldn't— Couldn't... survive without you."

"So your solution is to divorce me now?" you scoff. "Tell me, how does that makes sense?"

"Because I have loved exactly two people in my life, Clarke... And this way? At least I won't have to bury one of them."

It's like a bucket of goddamn ice water has just been upturned over your head.

You can't help but stare at her, dumbfounded.

Because you are... so fucking stupid.

Your heart twists and it pounds and for a split second you wonder if you're having a heart attack, or if maybe this is what they mean when they talk about broken heart syndrome. Because nothing has ever hurt this bad. Nothing has ever devastated you as much this tidal wave of guilt. Nothing has ever scared you; made you feel this kind of shame so deep in your bones.

And when she drops her hands like she's given up and turns toward the door, you almost feel like you're going to throw up with the way your stomach clenches in a fresh wave of terrified dread. You want nothing more than to pop up and run over to her and explain and just fix this, but your hip and your leg and you just—You just...

You did this.

You did all of this.

"Okay," you damn near yell, sounding distinctly like a wounded animal to your own ears.

She pulls to a stop and snaps back around, "Okay, what?"

"I said... okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll fucking get rid of them," you bite right back again, desperate and annoyed and shaking so badly it's making your shoulder ache.

She stares at you, placid and unmoved.

"All of them?"

You grit your jaw and blow a breath out. "All of them... The dangerous ones at least."

She clicks her tongue and starts to turn away when you yell—

"You have to compromise with me here!"

She wheels back around with thunder in her eyes and a snarl already twisting her lips.

You know you have never needed to talk faster in your life.

"The ones that aren't street legal, they're gone, okay? Nothing that is actually dangerous stays. But I'm not getting rid of the ones that are perfectly safe, and, Lexa, I'm not getting rid of my grandfather's car. It's the only thing I have from my fucked up family that means anything to me, and it's mine, and it's not fair of you to even consider making me get rid of it."

"You hate that fucking thing—"

"I don't hate it, I love that car! That car changed my life! That car got me you."

You watch the rage bleed out of her as she slumps at the shoulders.

She runs a hand through the controlled chaos of her hair.

"That car did not get you me, Clarke," she strains out in a sigh, sounding tired and beautifully frail. "We're married because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I fell in love with you. Because I'm in love with you."

It makes your heart squeeze tight all over again.

"Maybe, but you wanted that car before you ever wanted me—"

"That is not true," she cuts you off in a hush of a whisper.

She stares at you with eyes clouded with devastation and hurt, and for the life of you, you don't know how to fix it.

You never seem to know how to...

The air between you feels frozen for a long moment before she seems to make up her mind about something all at once.

She shakes her head as she crosses the room in quick, elegant strides and drops to her knees right in front of you.

"Listen to me," she says, and tenderly - so tenderly - takes your least injured hand and folds it into her own. "There are so many things I regret about my life. But making that bet, and losing it, are not included. Half of the reason I ever even wanted that car to begin with was because of how attracted to you I was whenever I saw you in it."

Your scoff is loud enough to give your concussion addled brain another headache. "You are such a liar, Lexa."

Your belly swoops when she flits that damn eyebrow up in challenge.

"While I appreciate your assessment of my moral virtues," she practically purrs, "on this, darling, you happen to be wrong... All that windswept blonde hair? The way you looked like you owned everyone and everything in those shaders that you'd so carelessly slip down before pulling away?"

You wonder if you even still have those sunglasses as she bites her lip and lets her eyes run the length of you.

You'll have to check the next time you can walk properly.

Maybe have them make a reappearance at your next brunch date.

Just for old time's sake.

The hand holding yours squeezes gently.

"You were so damn cocky. The way you'd throw that thing in park and hop out. You'd just toss your keys at the doorman like you didn't care about anything. I hated it so much," she laughs with a rueful grin that slips into something entirely more fond. "And yet I could never seem to make myself stop staring at you, darling."

Even after all these years of marriage, the thought of younger her having wanted younger you...

You shift at the throb that weakly pulses between your thighs.

"So... You made the bet because... you thought I was sexy in my car?"

"I made the bet because I thought you were entirely too full of yourself," she corrects, "which I still believe. But I wanted the car because I'd envisioned getting fucked in it more times than I could count."

God you love it when she gets vulgar.

She reaches up and brushes a curl away from your forehead.

"It just took me a little while longer to realize that the person I had been imagining fucking me was - annoyingly - very much you."

You know your smile is kind of dopey right now rather than the teasing slope that you're aiming for, but later when you look back on this moment, you'll definitely blame it on the drugs.

"So our marriage is based off you wanting me to top you in my grandfather's car?"

Her faces pulls up in distaste. "No. It's based off the fact that you are—"

She pauses and exhales something from deep in her chest, her eyes closing under the weight of whatever it is she's feeling as she finally trembles out,

"That you are everything to me."

You really really really kind of hate that you're injured in that moment, because when she opens her eyes they glisten with a lovely wet sheen. And you just want nothing more than to scoop her up and hold her in your arms. Because it's where she belongs. It's where she's always been meant to be...

"You're everything to me too, baby," you say because she is and she should know it, and you really need to remember to say it more often. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lexa, I didn't— I didn't mean to..."

She nods when you can't find the words and kisses the bruised ridge of your knuckles.

Rests her forehead there for a moment as though in prayer.

When she looks at you again she's already pulled herself back together.

That's part of why you love her so much.

Always unbreakable.

Except... when it comes to you.

You have no idea what to do with that knowledge, but you know you'd give up anything just to keep it.

And you love her so much that it makes you smile. It makes you smile, because you just want to see her smile at you again. Always.

"Hey," you say, tossing in a lazy wink because you know she hates it. "You totally had a crush on me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"You had a cuh-ruuuuush on me."

"Clarke. I am married to you—"

"Still," you snort. "Loser."

Her sigh of resignation is so weary it fills your heart close to bursting with how much love you have for this woman.

Because she doesn't fight you on that. Just leans her forehead against yours and nods, kissing your lips soft enough to not make the cut on them bleed again. Her nose brushes against yours in a sweet moment of aching tenderness, and when she pulls back to look at you beneath the fall of her lashes, the whole world is once again nothing but her.

"We'll go through each one together," she says somewhere between a question and a statement.

You nod in agreement, just to be safe.

"Anything remotely questionable, goes."

You heave a sigh but dutifully nod again.

"That means anything without the right mirrors, or proper turning signals. Engines that might blow up for no reason. Anything that was recalled decades ago. Anything with brakes that have a habit of failing... Anything that doesn't have fucking seat belts."

As her list grows you mentally tick off a good two-thirds of your collection.

You glance at her lips and remember how they feel against yours first thing in the morning, and simply nod again.

"Fine. But also? You can't just start threatening divorce every time you want me to do something, you know," you murmur still, because while you're compromising here... you really feel the need to remind her that she's not domesticating you or anything.

She doesn't seem remotely affected by your pout when she just shrugs and grins and leans forward.

You feel distinctly like a puppy on a leash when she pecks a placating kiss to your lips.

And then another to the tip of your nose.

"We'll see."

[ismyteadoneyet]

"ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɪʟʟ ʜᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ," ɪ sᴀɪᴅ. [...]

ᴀ sʟʏ sᴍɪʟᴇ sᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ʜɪs ғᴀᴄᴇ; ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴅᴇғɪᴇɴᴄᴇ. "ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴡʜʏ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ᴋɪʟʟ ʜɪᴍ? ʜᴇ's ᴅᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ."

~ 'The Song of Achilles' by Madeline Miller, page 161

•

I finally got around to reading that one book everyone always posts pictures of themselves crying over while reading, and I'm here to tell you that the internet is in fact telling the truth on this one 💀 I was sobbing throughout the entire last part 😭 Beautifully written book from the very first page to the very last, but my god is it HEARTBREAKING.

I also feel like reading this book at the same time as me being obsessed with Epic: The Musical and Legendborn is such a fun and weird coincidence tho. What is the third big mythology-thing I should get into to complete the triforce of myths and legends, hm?

More fanarts from this book to come! 🩷✨️

[bloody-cupcakes]

Okay okay, let me throw the idea out of just manipulative Yan!Veronica

Can be a fic or headcanons, whatever you want to do, but im willing to let this girl manipulate me idc!!!

-🐊

Yesss I love that idea so much!! Sorry this is a month late, I got distracted for a bit since I went on a trip to the beach with my friend and didn't get any writing done for a good couple of weeks lmao. I decided to go with both headcanons and a fic because I felt bad for making you wait for so long. Headcanons are below, the fic will be out later this week! 🥰

Tw: yandere/dark content, gender neutral reader, Veronica is extremely manipulative but we love her anyway, brief mentions of suicide (relevant to canon, yknow)

Veronica's one of the more covert yanderes tbh. She's not as domineering as Heather Chandler or straight up crazy like JD. At first, she just appears as your typical teenage girl who's worried about their partner. Sure, she's a little clingy, and possessive, and overly protective, but with people like Kurt and Ram out there who wouldn't be?

Her manipulation is also a lot more subtle than other people's. She's able to easily disguise it as worry, insisting that she's just trying to look out for you when it comes to parties you might want to attend or people you hang out with

She has absolutely no problem making up stories or coming up with lies in order to get you to leave certain people alone. Oh, you didn't hear that so-and-so slept with their best friend's boyfriend? Wow, I thought everybody knew that. She's so trustworthy and genuine, of course you believe her

If you ever manage to catch her in a lie, she's quick to turn it around on you or act as if she has no idea what you're talking about. She'll pretend that she got this information from a second hand source, so naturally it couldn't be all true, but at least some of it has to be, right? So it's still better for you not to hang out with this person, just in case

It's even harder to see what she's doing as manipulation given the fact that her worries aren't entirely baseless. There are plenty of awful people in the school, and it wouldn't be too far-fetched to believe that she truly does want to protect you. She may be a bit excessive, sure, but that's only because she doesn't want to see you get hurt

When I say she limits the people you're "allowed" to hang out with, I mean that. Heather McNamara is okay, and maybe Heather Duke, but Heather Chandler is off limits, and don't even think about going anywhere near Kurt and Ram (not that you'd want to, because ew)

Even Martha Dunstock is a perfect candidate for a friend, because she never hangs out with anyone else anyway, which means no one will bother you two. And by bother I of course mean give you any sort of attention

JD is a bit of a toss up. Veronica trusts that he'd never let anything happen to you, but she also knows that he always ends up finding trouble no matter where he goes, intentional or not, so you'll typically only hang out with him if Veronica is also there to keep an eye on him

Overall, she's a great girlfriend! If you don't mind only hanging out with people that she trusts to keep an eye on you or occasionally getting caught up in her and JD's passionate discussion about "ridding the world of popular filth" and all that. But that's nothing to worry about, I'm sure. Even if the eventual suicides of Heather Chandler and Kurt and Ram did seem a bit suspicious...

[flaming-toads]

So what if I go back to s1e10 of 911 and I enjoy Bobby's little dating profile and think about silly cute ideas about it hmm?! HMMM?!

[suisaber25]

My HibiMiku fanfiction upload announcement!

I finally posted chapter 1 of my HibiMiku fanfiction titled “Beyond the Forest is a Respite in Sunshine” on AO3! It takes place after the concert and before they attend high school. I wanted to focus on the time that brought them to be so close. This is the Hibiki chapter which takes place from her point of view.

Excerpt:

Nothing notable happened as I went back home.

The sky was a mix of a deep orange near the sunset and a dark violet in the center.

There were a few thin strips of pink clouds. There are no stars to be seen in the sky.

It's a strange mix but the colors seem to complement each other.

The sun’s dark orange light is dim, as though it has been weakened.

I wonder when it will shine brightly again?

Looking up in the deep violet sky, I feel as though it will come down and take me away from here.

It would honestly be nice, but I don't think that can ever happen.

"...Please."

I plan to make this into a series but chapter 1 of the Hibiki chapter has only been made hahaha… Either way I hope you may read it and enjoy it!

Here’s the link if you’re interested in reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63412594/chapters/162471079

[takitori67]

i need more of your junao sleeping. he’s so 🥺

You asked and I delivered 👌

Also as you mentioned it, I just realized how much I (love to) draw Junao snoozing/being sleepy lol. He's soooooooo patootie ❤❤❤

[tohruies]

first day of the conference has come to a wrap……. i am like this *^*