#spark queues
Note
god maybe i’m a bit late to the prompt thing and if i am feel free to ignore this but if not, could i get
[ SERVICE ] our muses just showered together, sender dries off receiver with a towel and kisses each part of them they dry as they go.
with ingo x reader? with ingo being the one getting dried off…. he deserves to be taken care of :))
(@astererer I'm so sorry for the wait, friend.)
Ahhhhh!!!! I'm so glad you sent this in!!! TwT You are absolutely right, Ingo deserves all the pampering!
(Word count is 1,471. At this point I think these are all just turning into ficlets instead of drabbles...)
(Cw: none. Ingo x Reader. reader is genderless. no smut, only fluff. soft Ingo.)
===
Tender
Your husband is three hours late getting home.
He leans against the doorframe as you come around the corner, slumped into the high collar of his coat with his cap pulled low over his eyes. His body language speaks of a long, tiresome day - of unruly passengers and rude challengers, schedule delays and endless paperwork.
It tears at your heart.
“Ingo?”
He looks up, miserably slow, at the sound of your voice; the bright silver of his eyes are a dull, exhausted grey in the shadow of his hat. “...Beloved,” he greets, voice unnaturally quiet. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips at the sight of you, relief trickling in to fill the hollow shadows beneath his eyes. “What are you still doing up?”
You frown. “I was worried about you.”
Padding over on socked feet, you peer up at him under the brim of his cap and catch his tired gaze; you reach a careful hand towards him, pausing before you make contact, waiting for him to give you the ok. With a nod, he does, and your fingertips alight upon his cheek with a gentleness that makes him melt into your touch.
Ingo nuzzles your hand with a sigh. You watch as his shoulders sag, the weight of the day dripping off them like sludge, and he in turn reaches up clutch at you, his hand over yours to keep it there, clinging like it’s the only thing holding him upright.
You step closer until you’re pressed against him, humming in concern; he sinks into your warmth as you tuck yourself under his chin. His free arm wraps around you to hold you to him as he buries his face in your hair.
“Are you hungry?” you whisper. You feel him shake his head no.
You frown again, but let it be. Instead, you ask, “Think you can manage a shower?”
A few long seconds pass before you feel him shrug.
It’s enough.
Gently, you steal his hat and then help him peel off his coat, hanging them up beside the door while he slips out of his shoes. You take his hand, and he follows along behind you like a lost lilipup to the bathroom, leaning against the counter for support when you have to let him go so you can let the water run warm.
“...I missed you,” he whimpers, and the sound of it is wrong in your normally boisterous husband’s mouth.
His body bends forward like a branch under too much pressure, only a moment away from breaking, and you carefully slip between his knees to place your hands on his shoulders, letting them slide up along his neck to cup his face. You lean in, nuzzling your noses together as he lets out a shaky sigh.
“I desperately wanted to come home; every time we settled one issue, another would–”
You silence him with the pad of your thumb against his lips. “Shhh.” You nuzzle him again, and replace your thumb with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “You’re here now, let me take care of you.”
He doesn’t reply with words, but you can feel his relief in the way he leans into you, weakly chasing your lips with his own as you pull away.
You step back, and Ingo whines softly at the loss until your hands trail down his chest, picking at his shirt buttons one by one. You help him get undressed; your hands are kind and your touches light as you move them along his body, freeing him from the last dregs of a day gone wrong with each layer of cloth removed. Once he’s down to his underwear, you step back in and wrap your arms around his waist.
“Do you need company or space?” you murmur into the side of his neck. You press the ghost of a kiss to his pulse.
Ingo sighs quietly against your hair, his arms coming up to hold you closer. “Join me?” he asks. “Please.”
As if you could ever tell him no.
You give his waist a squeeze and breathe a quick, “okay,” before pulling back once more to peel away your own clothing. You catch him watching you with a look of fond amazement, and you know that if this were a different night, a better night, his hands would be on you, helping to undress you the way you’d done for him. But not tonight. Tonight, you shimmy out of your clothes at an even pace, letting him watch without keeping him waiting, and once the both of you are stripped bare, you take his hands and guide him under the shower’s warm spray.
He stands facing away from the showerhead and leans his forehead against yours as the water cascades across his back and shoulders, easing the last of the tension from his tired, knotted muscles.
You brush your lips against his. “I’m glad you’re home.”
You stay there together, pressed close beneath the soothing warmth, uncaring about the length of time it takes for you to carefully delve your fingers into Ingo’s soft, silver hair and wash it clean of the stress of the day. He lets you run loving hands over the lines of his body, does the same to you - soft and sweet in your own private world as you help scrub away the last of the soap suds on his back and hips until all that’s left is the scent of warm summer rain that always lingers on his skin.
Ingo sighs in resignation when you finally reach to turn off the water, and shivers slightly as the sudden change leaves a faint chill in the air. You kiss his shoulder in apology.
You wait until you’ve both stepped safely out of the shower before slipping away from him. “Wait here,” you tell him, quiet as a breath, only to return a moment later with the biggest, fluffiest towel the two of you own.
You avoid his hand when he goes to reach for it, instead draping the towel over his head and playfully ruffle some of the moisture from his hair. He laughs softly, still too quiet, but it warms you like a campfire to hear it after the utter misery he’d been carrying before.
“My love, I think I can–”
You pull the towel away from his face so you can lean up to kiss him, stealing his words clean away.
“I know,” you whisper as you pull back. You press another kiss to his temple as you let the towel fall to his shoulders, gently wiping away the water that still clings to him. “Let me do this for you.”
You move the towel once more, trailing it over the column of his throat, down his shoulder blades, around to the planes of his chest, and drop your lips to follow along after it - a slow path of kisses at every place your touch alights. Ingo sighs against your hair, melting into your touch once more.
You dry off his left arm, then his right, ending with a kiss to each of his palms, his knuckles, his wrists. He tucks a wet strand of your hair behind your ear for you, and you offer him a smile before shifting to stand beside him, then behind him, kissing along the line of his shoulders you’d dried before but hadn’t been able to reach. As you brush the towel down the curve of his spine, he reaches back and gingerly steals one of your hands, bringing it around to his front so that you’re pressed to his back, arm around his waist and fingers entwined with his. You huff a laugh against his vertebrae and leave another kiss.
“I’m not finished yet.”
Ingo hums.
He lifts your combined hands to his lips and brushes them across your fingers reverently, before slowly turning until you’re chest to chest, adjusting his hold on your hand so that he doesn’t have to let you go. He tugs at the towel; with a fake pout, you let him take it.
Ingo’s smile is tired and small, but real. “Indulge me,” he says, and while it’s still quiet, it’s better.
The towel comes down upon your head in a mimic of before. You giggle as he gently ruffles your hair, squeezes the excess water from it, pets the dampness from your face and neck, and when he bends to kiss your forehead you intercept him with your lips against his own.
“I love you,” you breathe into the kiss, smiling as Ingo tilts his head to deepen it.
“I love you, too,” he sighs. “So much.”
And as you hold each other close, the towel slips from Ingo's hands to land upon the floor, momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your embrace.
#prompt drabble#ask box#dvd clown#astererer#ingo x reader#subway master ingo#spark writes#spark queues
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
#shakespeare#william shakespeare#spark notes twitter#spark notes#spark notes meme#spark notes killing the queue#literature meme#romeo and juliet#a midsummer night's dream#as you like it#twelth night#king lear#Hamlet#much ado about nothing#merchant of venice
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
🎵
#me? playing sims?#this is all i took tho the queue is still dead#updating ur mods is the first step ok i'll get back into it#ts4#s4#s4 edit#s4 legacy#sims 4#sparks#sparks legacy#gen 5#s4 gameplay
773 notes
·
View notes
Text
adrien and rua take ama to play with the sheep and goats at a local festival!
#ts4#ts4 gameplay#sims 4 gameplay#postcard legacy challenge#this sparks amaya’s new obsession: sheep sounds#she’s moved on from playing princesses and monsters now she wants to pretend to be a sheep#her daycare attendant sent home a letter saying that amaya started head butting the other children while pretending to be a goat#sim: adrien herrera#sim: rua kamealoha#sim: amaya kamealoha#postcard: gen3#queue
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
dair parallels (123/?)
Gossip Girl 5x01 // Gossip Girl 5x08 // Gossip Girl 5x10 // Gossip Girl 5x13 // Gossip Girl 5x16 // Gossip Girl 5x22
#dair parallels#dan x blair#dair#dan humphrey#blair waldorf#chuck bass#serena van der woodsen#georgina sparks#gossip girl#queue b
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Peace and love to Rain’s mom, she’s a peach for sure, but what in the bedazzled fuck was she thinking when she gave her son, chairman of the whoopsie daisy committee, a BRAND NEW BMW????
#like ma’am??? your child uses his one braincell as a hockey puck and you put him on the road in THAT?????#did all the chevy sparks die in a freak boating accident or??????#she’s so lucky payu showed up bc rain was 2 seconds away from destroying that car with the sheer power of ignorance and adhd#love in the air#why don’t queue stay
289 notes
·
View notes
Text
No wonder everyone in Blackreach is evil, they have no access to potatoes!
Marcurio, probably
#any potatoes in blackreach are old and full of mold#they do not spark joy#blackreach#marcurio#elder knowledge#discerning the transmundane#nerevar queue and star#incorrect quotes#incorrect elder scrolls#incorrect skyrim quotes#tes#the elder scrolls#skyrim#the elder scrolls v: skyrim#source: shit my players say
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
#27
“How’s your food?”
The hero wouldn’t know. Their food is currently going cold in front of them, untouched. The villain, on the other hand, has more or less inhaled theirs.
“Oh, don’t be so dour,” they continue through a mouthful of their dinner. “Agency’s paying for this.”
That much is true. The superhero more or less forced their hand in this, first with promises of time off and a payrise, second with threats of getting fired when the hero didn’t immediately agree. So here they are, in a restaurant they didn’t like the menu of, staring at the food in front of them that’s long stopped steaming, sitting across from the person they want to punch most in the world.
The hero turns their gaze to the doors idly, disinterested. They hope they can go home soon.
“I can’t believe people actually believe you want to help us,” they retort flatly, and the villain frowns innocently.
“I do—that’s why I offered my help.” They say it like it’s obvious, and the hero tuts in annoyance. “That fucker—[Supervillain]—owes me. I’m just getting my own back.”
“He owes you so much you’re trying to set heroes on him,” the hero says disbelievingly, and the villain nods. They train their eyes on the door as well, expectant.
“You think too much, god. Have a drink, loosen up, for both of our sakes.”
The hero glances down at the wine glass on the table, just as untouched as the rest of their dinner. They didn’t like the menu—and honestly this pasta looks wrong somehow—but wine is wine. Hopefully they can have a little faith in something that got here already made.
They swill it in the glass thoughtfully for a moment, staring into the tiny current the movement causes before taking a test sip.
“How is it?” the villain asks hopefully. Their answer comes as the hero tips half the glass into their mouth in one go. To say they look ecstatic would be an understatement. “Oh, wow, must be good.”
It’s okay. It tastes a bit weird, but they imagine everything does here. They don’t care too much – they know they’re meant to be on business, but if they can forget most of the time they’re being forced to spend here it might make it a little better.
They set the glass back on the table with a sigh. The villain watches them eagerly as they lean back in the chair. “Any better?”
“I don’t get drunk off half a glass of wine,” the hero snaps, but they’d be lying to say they don’t feel a little dizzy. “I’m not that much of a lightweight.”
“Shame. Would’ve made for an interesting night if you were.”
The villain goes back to shovelling food into their mouth as the hero heaves a deep breath. They’re feeling worse by the second, the whole world starting to spin nauseatingly, and after a couple of minutes they feel like they’re going to be sick. They lurch to their feet rather suddenly, pulling the villain’s gaze to them in surprise.
“Bathroom,” is all they have time to say before they stagger away from the table and in the vague direction of the signs they saw earlier.
The door bounces off the wall as the hero shoves it open, the clatter it makes against the tile emphasising the headache assaulting them. They stumble to the sinks, shakily turning a tap on and slapping water over their face. It’s refreshing, and it’s only when they feel the cool water on them that they realise how unbearably hot they feel. They have to lean all their weight on the counter to keep themself standing, desperately blinking away the unconsciousness slinking up on them.
They’re barely aware of the door creaking open behind them. There’s movement in the mirror in front of them, though they can barely bring themself to look up beyond the rising sickness. “That wine must’ve been strong,” a familiar voice says from behind them, the sound dulled slightly as if it’s coming from underwater. “You look rough.”
Something—no, that’s someone—touches their shoulder lightly, pulling them away from the counter. They sink to the floor, their support gone, and the villain follows them down worriedly.
“You have a phone, right?” They rummage through the hero’s pockets uninvited. “I’ll call [Superhero]. You really need to go home.”
“Ugh,” is all the response the hero can give them. They can see, somewhat distantly, the villain frowning at their phone in their hand, presumably looking for a contact they can use. They turn away as the door swings open again, and they lean out of the hero’s vision as they get back to their feet.
“What the hell are you doing here?” they snap coldly, and the supervillain hums a laugh.
“Picking up the trash. I knew you’d try to do me in,” he says simply, and he shoves them back to come more into the room. “You’re not the most original criminal, are you?”
There’s a moment of silence, and the lack of anything to concentrate on makes the hero realise how close to passing out they are. “You did this?”
“Who else? You’re too weak to do anything that matters.”
They know it’s not aimed at them, but the last of the hero’s attention is trained on that one sentence as the arguing fades into fuzzy nothingness. You’re too weak to do anything that matters.
#writing#creative writing#writing community#writers on tumblr#writblr#heroes and villains#hero x villain#warning lads!!! assignments are looming i have taken on extra work all my deadlines are within 3 days of each other#burnout is. dangerously close#so!! in the terrible case that writing essays and doing post production just absolutely annihilates my creative spark#i am still here!! just a lil slow!!#ive already been writin slower than ive been postin so if i hit the end of the queue before i write anything else i LOVE yall#and i will be back on my bullshit as soon as i can on here
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
She was struck by the simple truth that sometimes the most ordinary things could be made extraordinary, simply by doing them with the right people.
— Nicholas Sparks
#inspiration#positive#motivation#queue#personal#life#quote#love#quoteoftheday#nicholas sparks#inspirational#motivational#words#literature#lit#thoughts
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
I LOST THE OG ASK HELL ON EARTH… DEAR PERSON WHO SENT IT IM OBSESSED HOW IT WAS PHRASED LIKE A ROMCOM SYNOPSIS. this is so sad
#ultra-violence queuestick#homestuck#snowpaint#sn0wman#ms. paint#head in hands. i accidentally reached post limit-#(reblogged a certain post 351 times. don’t worry about it)#-and instead of halting my queue it deleted the post instead#cries sobs wails#something something snow and paint meet and caliginous sparks fly.#snowman is overwhelmed with gayyyyy feelings. an ex-queen falling for a former housemaid? how scandalous
110 notes
·
View notes
Note
You know how everyone says unova remakes are next.
The chances of ingoless emmet increase :)
*pained wheezing*
Man why you got
Why you gotta hurt me like this?
#my hypocritical ass over here with handfuls of angst in my writing arsenal#but also feeling the heart hurty over the idea of CANON EMMET WITHOUT INGO#hey nonny nonny#spark chats#spark queues#ask box
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
Lime lime lime I’m obsessed with so many of your stories. But also what is everyone’s approximate ages in tktsaaiw ? I’m so thinking about it
i don't have specific set ages from them, but i've personally been envisioning them as in their twenties, and not all that far apart from each other. i do know that patton's the oldest (group dad), roman is the youngest, and logan has been in space the longest.
#logan and patton both prioritize doing what they can to protect roman (youngest and newest to their situation)#but really they all try to look after each other#inb4 i make an au where ampen virgil gets taken hostage by a gaggle of teenagers#tktsaaiw teoba au <- noise i make after i stub my toe real hard#im just making keysmashes at this point#asks#tktsaaiw#anonymous#if you have age theories and propositions of your own that's also fine#my policy is if i dont mention it directly in story you can believe whatever you'd like#whatever sparks joy even#that's why there's 30 different designs for the alien cast :)#queue
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
#rohitakadambi#@rohitakadambi#spark notes twitter#spark notes#spark notes meme#spark notes killing the queue#literature meme#jane austen#jane austens leading men#pride and prejudice meme#pride and prejudice#emma#persuasion#sense and sensibility#mansfield park
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
happy merry holidays from the sparks babies🌟
#will probably post slow over the next couple weeks with the holidays#i tried to build a queue but here we are#i hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday break#ts4#s4#s4 edit#sims 4#sparks#sparks legacy#sims 4 edit#gen 5#gen 6
351 notes
·
View notes
Text
"My heart like boom-boom, when you walk in the room. Never thought we could make sense."
[ID: A gif from Monster High Generation 3 webseries Sparks & Spells episode 8. Cleo sings in the finale as Frankie dances beside her. Frankie holds out a hand, and Cleo spins them. Frankie's arms come undone and they spark as they look incredibly dizzy. End ID]
#g3 frankie x cleo#clankie#monster high#monster high g3#sparks and spells#mh g3#mhedit#mhg3edit#mh edit#mh g3 edit#queue
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
30 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
hbjoe67
American Pride
anjamarais
Marais
joegilgunsbutttattoos
Joe Gilgun's Butt Tattoos
rush-lol
Love Life
furrydelusionphilosopher
Untitled