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[sunofagreste]

❝Why did I get involved?❞

Thanatos with his hair down. THANATOS WITH HIS HAIR DOWN!

[sunofagreste]

crescent-woods masterlist!

i figured it was probably better to make one now than risk losing them forever in the crappy tag system sooooo…

everything is tagged #peachy fics on my blog and on my ao3 crescent_woods

kiss prompts - based off of this list

1. relief

lukanette. of course hawkmoth had to ruin his night. luka planned the perfect proposal - open field, spring air, beautiful flowers - but an annoying akuma and some unexpected weather put a damper on his plan. aka the Soft Proposal. [ place: in the rain; reason: relief ]

2. (un)missed opportunities

lukanette.  marinette dupain-cheng accidentally confessed her love to luka in her boyfriend’s car. she expects to at least have a night to collect her thoughts before sitting down with him, but of course fate has better ideas. marinette and luka end up using the same car - still her boyfriend’s - at the end of the night. like the gentleman he is, luka doesn’t pressure her to talk, but he’s always had a way with words that makes it so easy for marinette to share. aka the Angsty One. [ place: in a vehicle; reason: sad or hurt feelings ]

3. duck feelings

lukanette.  marinette watches luka’s concert at a bar, she and alya have some fun, and marinette gets emotional about ducks on their walk home. aka the one inspired by Real Life Events. [ place: in the street; reason: confessing feelings ]

other fics:

what’s cookin’?

lukanette.  marinette is testing a new recipe and luka wants to learn how she cooks. aka the Super Small Fluff Bomb.

my inbox is ALWAYS open to drop in! say hi, compliment a fic, come scream to me about the authors you love, request a scenario for me to write, anything! everything! distract me!

[sunofagreste]

I never knew that just on image could hold so much power.

[sunofagreste]

i've always been… acutely aware of how seldom we try to do right by fic writers in fandom, and how we jump at every opportunity to support artists. by no means am i trying to like, pit one against the other, because at the end of the day we're content creators trying to have fun.

i just also feel very strongly about fic writers getting the love and support and recognition they deserve.

so, if you're a fic writer, reblog this post and brag about yourself. share your AO3! plug your commissions post!! drop a link to your ko-fi!!!

and whether you're a writer or not, spread this around and share the love and gratitude you have for the writers in your fandom 💖

i'll even start:

hey ✨ i'm sahar/omnistruck! i've been writing for the last 17 years. nowadays i have lots of fun in the Miraculous Ladybug and Persona 5 fandoms, and i'm hoping to dive into FE3H, too. Here are my links!

💫 ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volti/works

💫 tumblr: https://omnistruck.tumblr.com

💫 ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/omnistruck

WRITERS WYA!!!!

Link to the original Twitter thread here!

[ID: A thread of tweets that reads: thinking real long and hard about how little respect fic writers get, lads. think about it though. when's the last time you saw a social-media-wise promotion campaign for fic writers? how often do you see fic writers getting or even opening commissions? what kind of numbers are fics getting compared to art? why are we so thoroughly satisfied by the instant gratification art provides, but we only theoretically invest in those 100k+ [insert trope here] fics that there's always somehow a meme about? and if we do invest, why do we feel it's only enough to leave a kudos IF THAT? why is our only rhetoric regarding fic writers that "they do all this for free?" why are we by and large ONLY allowed to do this for free? we have to, have to, HAVE TO do better by fanfiction. i, for one, am absolutely goddamn exhausted by how long and how often i'm discouraged by how it's treated nowadays. so. compassion starts here. a movement has to start here. if you're a fic writer, QRT this tweet and fucking BRAG about your words. drop your AO3, your socmed, your fandoms, your ko-fi, whatever. promo it here. lift yourself up, lift someone else up. you deserve to be seen. you deserve to be read. End ID]

[sunofagreste]

Hi! I LOVE your Felinette fake not-dating story! Would you be able to do number 42 or 45 for the kiss ask for them? It doesn’t have to be in the fake not-dating au, I just love how you write Felinette in general!

42. Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

45. Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.

leave me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a kiss! [CLOSED FOR NOW]

read more of the Fake Not-Dating AU!

hey uhhhhh as the prompts might suggest, there is some Implied Content in this request. nothing at all explicit, but i think it’s important to know The Vibes™️ before you jump in! 💥🔥

This is going to take forever, and it’s purely and entirely because Marinette Dupain-Cheng doesn’t know how to take a breath or be anything short of perfect.

Normally, Félix doesn’t mind it; her dedication is one of the things he admires most about her, and one of the few things he’ll admit admiring to others. But that’s when they both have things to do or worry about, or when they decide to go out somewhere or on some occasion she’s deemed particularly fancy.

Now certainly isn’t one of those times or places. They’re merely sitting in his hotel room, with the television turned on to something of little consequence. And she’s over on the ledge looking out at the city, and she’s drawing again. Just as she almost always is, because apparently she doesn’t know how not to work. Whether she wants to commit Paris to paper or think of some new clothing line idea is beyond him. But she does look beautiful doing it. She does look beautiful doing most things.

Well. If she can go around distracting him, then he can do the same. How many times has the reverse happened, when he was poring over some dull email or textbook and she made it a point to tug at his clothes and coax him to bed? How many times has she… well, for lack of a better word, seduced him so?

And besides, when was the last time they’d gotten up to anything? The fact that he can’t remember is an issue in and of itself.

Félix snaps his book shut—he’s been reading the same page for the last hour, anyway—and tosses it aside, shuffling to where she sits. He has to admit, it is a lovely view from up here, where they can feel like royalty or little gods. Where what they do with one another, to one another, feels holy. His hand slides to her waist, and still he keeps his eyes on the cityscape as his lips meet her cheek, and then her jaw.

Marinette draws a sharp breath in through her teeth—just the sweet little reaction he’s looking for. “Félix,” she murmurs, cracked though it sounds; has she been thinking of him? Quietly wanting him back? “I’m working…”

“I know,” he whispers back. Takes care to give her waist a squeeze and nip at the shell of her ear. “So am I.”

“Thought you were reading.” She shifts in her seat—is that squirming?—and her shoulders relax as she pauses to stretch her wrists. She doesn’t swat him away when his hands trail to cover hers. “Thought you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Certainly not.” He hums against the line of her jaw, just under where it meets her ear. He’ll never get over just how she gasps wherever he kisses her there. How she’ll all but quietly melt for his touch. “So how do you account for disturbing me, then?”

“How could I have possibly disturbed you?” Marinette bites her lip; Félix catches it out of the corner of his eye and tries not to delight too much. “I didn’t even talk to you. I was just sitting… here…”

There’s that other sound he likes so much: the wobble in her voice when he’s got the edge. When he’s toeing the line of something they both quietly, desperately need, and testing just how thin their patience can wear. “You seemed stressed,” are the innocent words that spill from his mouth and buzz against her skin. “can you fault me for being disturbed when my love is unwell?”

His palms slide up and down her back now—there are knots there simply aching to be worked out—and as he moves toward her front again she catches his hands in hers. “You,” she says, still watching the city with those gorgeous, half-lidded eyes, “seem thirsty.” She sighs, more like she’s reminiscing instead of needing. “Remember when you used to be a grandpa in a young adult’s body?” she teases under her breath. “When you wouldn’t be caught dead even looking at me for more than three seconds, and now you want to pin me to the nearest flat surface and— “

“Can’t I kiss you?” He wrestles his hands from hers, covers them, squeezes them. How can he resent a comment like that when the gratification of her goosebumps far outweighs it? “Won’t you let me?”

The sketchbook is starting to slip from her lap, but neither of them makes any move to rescue it. Marinette, sweet thing, is still biting her lip, and when he moves to her neck she shudders so softly it makes his insides churn. “Félix,” she says again. A prayer instead of a warning.

“Do you want to?” he asks, little more than a breath against her ear, as his hands flex. The Darcy, she’s come to call it, ever since they watched the movie together. Something about the wanting and the holding back duking it out in plain sight. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I swear it.”

The pause is enough of a “no” for him— a lingering sore jaw has taught him to accept nothing less than an enthusiastic “yes.” But it’s as he’s withdrawing, hot in the face and his teeth in his lip, that Marinette chases after him and yanks him into a staggering kiss. It’s fierce, and heated, and they stumble into the wall in the process while her sketchbook tumbles away. But it’s worth it for the way she whimpers into his mouth. And it’s worth it for every part of her she lets him put his hands on. And it’s worth it for how she tugs him along, tripping over the armchair, the nightstand, the foot of the hotel bed. “What happened to you?” she asks, tangling her fingers in his hair and whispering that yes, yes once his mouth meets her neck again. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You did,” he murmurs back with a trail of kisses and a nip of his teeth. “Although, technically speaking, it was really the other way around, wasn’t it?”

“Félix—”

“That is my name,” he murmurs, nudging her to sit, to look up at him with those doe eyes and red cheeks and swollen lips. “I’d be happy to be responsible for your saying it more often. Like that, or any way you prefer.”

He doesn’t have to say it for her to know it. That she’s the one with all the control, all the sway over him. That for all his airs and snappy comebacks, his voice is mere steps away from a broken, half-greedy, I’ll do anything. Even when she’s the one looking more flustered and ruffled and flushed. He knows she knows it, because it’s all in the sparks in her eyes. How she’s all but forgotten the cityscape, and the sketchbook, and the drone of the movie.

“If you think I’m so stressed,” Marinette says, leaning back on her hands, “then why don’t you do something about it?”

Félix, saint that he is, only smiles, and he sinks to his knees.

[sunofagreste]

Lila is already on her way to become Hawkmoth 🦋

(also step by step gif for those who are interested)

[sunofagreste]

Petition to let us kiss Adrien. I miss him so much.

Part 1

[sunofagreste]

Somehow I’ve ended up here

[sunofagreste]

hundred more days of ladynoir ↳ day 194

(for @ladynoirjuly2020‘s day 8: kwami swap)

[sunofagreste]

one of my favorite things about the httyd books is

hiccup: a

camicazi:

[sunofagreste]

thinkin bout him again

[sunofagreste]

Presented you like one month late and without much commentary: dragon books 2 and 3

[sunofagreste]

David Tennant narrating both the HTTYD books and The Wizards of Once series is just further proof this man loves Cressida Cowell’s work.

I could listen to him read her novels forever. 

[sunofagreste]

Yesterday my cousin was kinda saying something about needing books to read and I said, once again, httyd, because she loves the movies and she was like but do I really need to read them though? I’ve already seen the movies and I was like no... you don’t understand... you can’t even compare the two. So please please please read the books

[sunofagreste]

[sunofagreste]

Lukanette with 31 for the kiss prompt?

31. Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.

leave me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a kiss! [CLOSED FOR NOW]

not connected to anything this time, either. just something short and sweet and soft 🥰

Luka turned off the timer at least ten minutes ago.

It’s a deal they have whenever they have free time—or when he manages to convince Marinette to take some free time. They settle under a tree in the Place des Vosges, because it’s right across the street from her house and the bakery. She brings a book; he has his guitar, but he props it up against the trunk. He rests his head in her lap while she reads for half an hour; then they switch, and she rests, and he strokes her hair and hums to her.

She’s been running herself ragged again, though; he could tell from the way she could barely keep her eyes open. And when they switched, it only took a few minutes for her to fall asleep, curled up on her picnic blanket. So he’s still brushing her hair out of her eyes, and he’s still humming to her, because when she wakes up he wants it to be to something good. He doesn’t care much about how long he has to stay here, so long as it doesn’t rain on them. Her parents know where they are besides. And he doesn’t care much if he loses the feeling in his legs for a while, so long as she’s comfortable and safe. The feeling, he can shake that back into place. He’s had to do it plenty of times before anyway.

He could do this for days, he thinks.

He could do this forever, he thinks.

It’s another half hour before she stirs, and by then the sun’s hanging a little lower in the sky. He really ought to be getting home now, but he can’t bear to tear himself away. Not when she whimpers against the sunlight and rubs her eyes as she blinks up at him like a newborn kitten. “What time is it?” she mumbles, thin and high and glittering like wind chimes. Pink. Rose gold. And then, “It was supposed to be my turn…”

“Yeah, well.” The look on his face must be so foolishly adoring, but he can’t bring himself to care. “You were tired. Couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

“Then you’ll just have to get a turn for an hour, too,” she tries to argue. “Fair is fair.”

She’s only barely sat up before he gently pushes her back down by her shoulder. “Stay,” he says, settling back against the tree trunk, his hand resting on her cheek. He can feel all the ways she folds under him, just from her smile. He can hear all the way her music swells, all the ways her heart tries to find his music too, just from looking at her. “Just a little longer, rest. Promise me you’ll rest.”

Marinette scrunches up her lips as if to say she can’t guarantee it, which does n’t surprise him. In her mind, there’s always something to do. Someone to take care of. It’s just rare that that someone is her. Eventually she relents, nuzzling his palm with her cheek, and even looks him in the eye to let him know that she means it despite what her gut wants. That she knows he must doubt her in spite of much he always wants to trust her. That she wants to give him that reason to keep trusting her. “Fine, I’ll go to sleep early tonight, on one condition.”

Luka nods, still thumbing her cheek. “I’m listening,” he murmurs. Goldenrod, he sounds like. Burnt, molten sunlight.

She yawns, smiling lazy and genuine up at him, and cradles his hand against her face. “Call me tonight,” she says, “and sing me to sleep.”

Luka can’t help smiling back, or how his music rises to meet hers. Says, here I am, come closer. “You got it,” he whispers, tucks her hair behind her ear, and he leans down to kiss her softly. He can hear the colors and images mingling, sees the wind chimes swaying in the wind and catching sunlight in the way her mouth moves with his, and this time it’s her hand on his face. This time it’s her pleading, quietly, for him to stay.

He does. He keeps his forehead pressed to hers even after the kiss is broken, and he’s so close he can feel her grinning more than he can see it. “I like you here,” she says, their lips brushing with every word. She’s still holding his face. “I love you right here.”

Usually he’s the one to say it first, so it throws him for the best loop. “I love you right here, too,” he says, caring little for who might see. More witnesses to the truth; isn’t that what they are? “Here and everywhere, Marinette.”

She kisses him again, a sweet little theft. “You’ll call me?”

“I’ll call you.” His smile grows. “Anytime you need me, I’ll come running. Calling. Whatever.”

Marinette giggles, her voice heavy with sleep again. Her book is abandoned, standing spine-up next to his guitar, but they’ll make time to mind it later. Marinette always makes time for everything, and Luka always makes time for her.

Like this, he’d like to think, they’ve got it all covered.

[sunofagreste]

Bra lover Boy

My second fic is a Lukanette fic too, of course! Includes fluff and teasing.

Warning: M rated (implied sex)

Thanks to @livrever for the proofread and corrections!

__________________________________________________

It was nighttime in Luka’s rented apartment. The young man and his girlfriend Marinette were in his bedroom, lying together on the bed, facing up and almost naked. Marinette was wearing her panties and was partially covered by a slim bed sheet, while Luka was wearing only his boxers underwear. They were 21 and 19 now, but had just recently started dating after years of missed changes for their love to fully bloom. The right time for them had arrived after she confessed to him, who had been in love with her since their eyes met for the first time.

Some rays of light filtered through the curtains of the window of the 5th floor of the building. There was something indescribable in the air, and aura that filled the room with love and absolute happiness, as if a starry sky was sparkling at the ceiling of the room or if they had just been transported to some kind of heaven. A whole magical sensation, completely new for the young couple, that was now panting and gasping for air at a continuous and matching rhythm, without letting go of their joined hands despite how hot, sweaty, and tired they were.

A few minutes passed until their breaths were back to normal. Their heads rolled to face each other, staring at each other’s eyes, smiling softly together with a noticeable blush on their cheeks.

The staring lasted for two minutes until the young woman felt like her vocals had returned and her excited but low voice left through her lips. “Luka, that was amazing… Thank you for taking into consideration that it was my first time…” she said, shyly.

“Well, I’m glad… It was my first time too…” Luka smiled shyly too, her soft smile never leaving his lips as he replied to his girlfriend.

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