#your honor I love them deeply
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bruciemilf · 5 months ago
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Bardock and Gine are genuinely such a funny couple. Gine is a golden retriever puppy surrounded by a pack of feral cat monkeys and she truly believes Bardock can’t stand her ass.
Meanwhile Bardock is screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. “Why won’t any of these fucking courting tactics WORK?!”
Toma wonders if he should let Bardock know HE’S been courted as well.
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nouverx · 5 months ago
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Lucifer and Lilith's first meeting be like
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muzarry · 2 years ago
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Suprise kiss 🫢
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gldnstrngs · 2 months ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin), Leon (Merlin), Percival (Merlin), Elyan (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Geoffrey of Monmouth (Merlin), Mithian (Merlin), Elena (Merlin), Iseldir (Merlin) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, in a land where people are actually happy, Merlin (TV) Season/Series 04, think depressed arthur that we never got to see on the show but he’s actually happy in this case, Touch-Starved, Pining, Idiots in Love, they actually take idiots in love to another level, Boys Kissing, arranged marriage but not in the way u think i swear, Merlin Loves Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Loves Merlin (Merlin), he just doesn’t know it yet, Arthur Pendragon Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon is Bad at Feelings (Merlin), Understatement of the century, Implied Sexual Content, Your Honor They Love Each Other, Fluff, angst but not really??? it’s just arthur pining and being dumb, Happy Ending, also uther pendragon is dead, we cheered, Good Morgana (Merlin), Good Sibling Morgana (Merlin) Summary:
Arthur ignored the other. “Marry me.”
Merlin choked. “What?”
 a story in which merlin and arthur (but mostly arthur) are idiots in love.
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thebirdandhersong · 4 months ago
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in my you're on your own kid era again (I never left)
#babes i will do what i know best which is to write. study. pray. breathe.#lol you'd think after having a mental breakdown two days ago i'd be more settled in what to do#but it turns out there are many ways your heart can break!#and part of it is. yes. i know i'm stupid and have a horribly soft heart that is so so susceptible to being won over#and i AM aware that i easily love people (in a general sense) it is not hard for me to see beauty in someone and love them#because i catch a glimpse of or recognize goodness truth beauty kindness loveliness gentleness in them and it moves me deeply#i am very easily moved deeply i know this!! and i wish it weren't so sometimes#but anywayssssss insert all the things you know the routine i should've been wiser i should've been more careful#i wanted to know about him i wanted him to find me delightful and insightful and courageous and interesting#i wanted to make him laugh somehow or at least smile i wanted to see that joy of his up close#i saw a deep startling warming light in him and i wanted to draw closer#etc etc etc anywayyyyyy anyway#petrarch: Love found me all disarmed and saw the way / was clear to reach my heart down through the eyes#which have become the halls and doors of tears. / it seems to me it did him little honor / to wound me with his arrow in my state#/and to you armed not show his bow at all" etc etc you know the drill#insert ALL the things. standard stuff. i would have loved you i would have treated you tenderly i would have simply rejoiced to be near you#all of that ish and more. anyways back to real life lol i'd love to experience a love that doesn't feel like death someday#healing girl era summer '24
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lavenderl0ner · 6 months ago
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Forgot to post this here too! Something about Mirrorverse Amélie and Gerard still together, still in love,,
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urproblematicfav-ao3 · 14 days ago
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wipwipwip
I love my babies so much. y'all remember the whole The Great Molasses Flood thing?? Yea that
Also funfact: the song Alastor's playing is Atonement from the Journey soundtrack(specifically at 4:40) Which is both my favorite part of the whole game, and also funny because no the fuck he isn't
youtube
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"Why didn't you stop me?" by Mitski
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firstroseofspring · 2 months ago
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thinking pondering to me john torres is like. what if u met a woman. with confidence and dignity and a strong moral backbone. you meet and she makes a distinct impression with her honesty and her frankness and she seems like she's always sure of what she wants and what she needs and she's so different from anyone else you know and thats exciting and she's exciting and she likes you specifically you. and you don't think much of you but it feels good to be liked by someone like that. you love her of course. you marry her. of course!
#diary#miral of course miral this post as all other posts on my blog is about miral. head in my hands#john torres and his projected insecurities and shitty behavior you will always be infamous.#im so deeply rooted in my headcanons for them i have au's . girl the universe isnt even that well established ?#call me b'elanna torres the way i'm turning miral and john over in my head to figure out what the heck happened#in my head john and miral are like. john voice she's never stuttered in her life she always knows what to do she's very serious strong head#on her shoulders. my kind of woman.#meanwhile miral is like. act first pray on it later was that a mistake? well what is a mistake really this is my path now#and i'll have to see how to handle what has been done. seeing as now it can't be changed shrugs. the honorable thing to do.#i also think they see a lot of their flaws as like-#consequences of their cultures and not like personal flaws which can sometimes be true but also sometimes they are very much flaws in the#person.#miral is a little too sure of herself bordering on arrogance and likes control. john is like ahh klingons and their surefootedness :)#<- a little correct but also very wrong.#john is very like. at his worst a cold shoulder bad at personal confrontation kind of a pushover quick to resent but usually just seems#serious and occasionally quiet . normally social tho! so miral is like. a consequence of his upbringing that can't be changed. i will#take him as he is.#which is a nice sentiment and would normally be applied well unless you are these two specifically.#what happens when its 10 or even just five years later and you're getting tired of the cowardice? what happens when its five years later and#you can't go a day without arguing? what happens then.#did you confuse her arrogance for poise for assertiveness? did you confuse her recklessness with courage? whos wrong her or you?#miral voice is he a fool does he not care? he's content to just stand by? cower?#i think from the klingon pov a man who isn't willing to fight for you and your relationship must be devastatinggggg#not literally of course here but also literally. lol#but yeah what does it do to you when the person you love won't even argue with you anymore just totally pulls away? leaves. head in my hands#who do you think fell first. idk but i know who fell harder! :) <- tears in my eyes#i really like pathways where they made miral like a chatty woman and had her offer to host parties for b'elanna and her friends it was so#sweet i should read it again.#i like her to be a little crazy though <3 :)
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ciircex · 6 months ago
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CIRCE && LUCIFER; @xluciifer
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devotedlystrangewizard · 2 months ago
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contrary to what the now 3k kudos and almost 20k hits on my old geraskier fic would have you believe i was never and will never be a geraskier girlie and in the 5 years since ive wanted nothing more than to write a geregis fic to at least somewhat make myself feel better about it but i never have because i have also magically not had any good ideas for geregis fics. it has been 5 years. this fucking thing will be my legacy
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overnighttosunflowers · 2 years ago
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The Mighty Nein : distrustful :: Bells Hells : lonely
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darkqueenofshadows85 · 2 years ago
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just-a-mod · 2 years ago
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Eclipse made an RP debut with @honeycomb-cacube's Poppy
and for once had an open and communicative conversation
and then the two of them swang from the ceiling like a wrecking ball
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wagoncarryingtheband · 3 months ago
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girlies I did cry over jeonghan enlisting today. that is something I did do and if I think about it anymore I will again.
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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months ago
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 
Spencer doesn’t respond. 
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks. 
You do it again. 
Another squeak. 
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding. 
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 
“You’d be surprised.” 
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 
But you don’t bring those up. 
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?” 
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
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