robin cross and kevin day parallels actually go so crazy. they both spent their formative years in a basement underground with exy-obsessed captors. they both saw exy as freedom. they both were isolated even within the foxes’ group of outcasts. they were both under andrew’s protection. it cost kevin jean to leave the nest and it cost robin another girl’s life to escape her kidnapper. robin carried her racquet with her to self-soothe and kevin restrings the net of his when he’s anxious. they’re even bird coded

Valentino and Angel both having a "kitty" that makes them drinks but on completely opposite ends of the spectrum on what kind of relationship they have with them is something I think about a lot.

tachihara and his brother make me so fucking sad :,-(((

like tachihara couldn't have been older than idk 5 or 6 when his brother died. at that point how much can he even really remember of him?

and going off the fact that his family endlessly compared him to his brother and wished that he died instead, how much does he remember about his brother that is true and not just rose-tinted memories forced on him by his parents and soured by his own resentment?

does he know how much he grew to look like him? did he dye his hair because of it?

oh but thinking about xfi-era ricstar where the rooftop isn't the only time ric tried to kill himself after m-day. where he has scars and he's wearing sweaters and long sleeves all the time but then he and star are together in bed and star sees them and there's this moment of. oh fuck. from both of them because ric's self-esteem and general body image is shit. but also from star because he thinks. i should've been here for him. and then star kisses those scars and tells ric. you are alive. stay with me. please.

thinking about the necklace that Lockwood gave Lucy for the Fittes ball and how short it is, it lays right over her collar bone right?

so what if for every milestone he gives her a necklace that's just a little longer so she can layer them and wear several at a time instead of having to choose one. just think about an older Lucy who just has so much jewelry that are all gifts from Lockwood, each one being beautiful and thoughtful on how it fits with her other pieces.

shaking your tags in my mouth like a dog treat. AOUGH her not telling him bc she knew he'd get hurt. whatever

shes doing what mac is desperate to do,, shes protecting him

love the hc that Grian is transmasc and Taurtis is transfem they just met became best buds and then immediately shared everything including gender

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.

uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.

you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.

he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.

however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"

neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.

it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.

the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.

“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.

it's far from over.

he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.

neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.

you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.

it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.

he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.

the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.

not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.

"what are you doing? i am going to be late."

"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.

"you have to do my hair."

"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."

your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.

no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.

but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.

you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

honestly no wonder harrow forced ianthe to lobotomize her so she could save gideon. listen…LISTEN…if i was a secret-war-crime cult nunlet princess worshipped by my entire planet and the only person that (barely) kept me in check was my childhood nemesis—a butch a year older than me, towering over me in stature and physical prowess, and so hot it made my teeth hurt from how hard my jaw clenched in her presence, who wielded a two-handed seven-foot sword and had irritatingly huge biceps and told very lewd stupid jokes and also learned how to wield an entirely new weapon and be my bodyguard with startling accuracy in three months—only to have us finally learn to trust each other because we got invited to a magic murder mystery and then before the bubble burst i spilled the worst secret about myself that i was born because my parents murdered an entire generation and tried to Kill Her along with them and she just wouldnt die, and i told her this expecting a swift death i believed i deserved, only for her to fucking cradle me in her big butch arms and kiss me on my forehead with her soft butch mouth and just. forgive me for a shameful weight ive carried my entire life and then MAKE AN ACTUAL NECRO/CAV VOW with me despite every evil thing i have done to her……to have her tell me, in the end, bleeding and broken after putting up the most beautiful and glorious fight of her life, that she understands purpose and she understands duty and she knows loyalty more fiercely than ever now, that she knows who she is to me, that there is no her without me….to have her backed into a corner and make the ultimate sacrifice…..for me…..to recite scriptural wedding vows of eternity to me in her last wisps of soul-consciousness…..if i thought there was even a snowflake’s chance in the pyre that i could save her by turning myself into her very own locked tomb, i’d be begging ianthe tridentweirdius to crack my skull open and turn me to mush too, goddamn. i understand you harrowhark girl you don’t have to explain a thing to me. god said you couldn’t undo the lyctor’s bond bc it’d kill you. you told god and his angels that not even a lyctor’s bond could outshine the power of female spite and lesbianism and they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe you. but i heard you loud and clear and i was 17 and hormonal and hopelessly romantic not too long ago unlike those fucking dinosaurs and i’m saying it’s valid it’s what i would have done and really everyone should be thanking you for not being worse and more wretched about it, all things considered

first base is wound tending second base is hand touching

Uururggrgh i have plans that icannot share withyou right now (i have the bare bones of an idea and nothing more)

good omens: s2e2 the clue || s1e1 in the beginning

is this who you believe you are?

So I finally got around to playing Pathologic...

the thing i loved so much about the tbosas book that the movie didn't manage to get across is that snow had so many chances to become a decent human being. at every point in his life there was a person who loved him and who wanted him to be good and who showed him how to be good. and snow always refuses. he always dismisses them. tigris, sejanus, the bar owner, lucy gray. they all showed him the good of humanity. and he turned his back on all of them and chose to be evil instead. the book showed perfectly that being evil is a choice a person has to make. that some people aren't "born" evil and some people are "born" good. we are all good at our core.