#All I can say is

[ceruleancattail]

Idol Malleus who isn’t too familiar with what counts as “popular culture” nowadays.

It’s a mystery to him, honestly. With the world as interconnected as it is, it’s hard for him to keep up with whatever’s… trending, as the children of men say. Not when such fads flicker out like a candle’s flame, leaving naught but wisps of smoke behind.

That being said, you’re often his “translator” when it comes to things like this. You spend quite some time with him, patiently scrolling through and showing him some things he could do with the rest of Diasonmia.

Magicam challenges, the choreography of the lastest hit song, and so on. You walk him through using social media, laughing at Malleus’ reaction to the weirdness of it all. He enjoys… what do you call those amusing little video clips? Ah yes, me-mes of various critters doing rather silly things.

Sometimes, he shows you things. Tilting over his screen, patiently waiting until you turn towards him, giving him your fullest attention. It’s often something he finds adorable… something that reminds him of you.

He shows you a video of a cat winking at the camera, with a cheesy pick-up line captioning the video. You had a good chuckle at it, when Malleus looked over oh so innocently, asking what was this “rizz” the video was talking about.

You had to explain what rizz was, step by step. “The attractiveness of a person, amplified by flirtatious words… or actions.”

Nodding in understanding, Malleus hummed to himself softly. Before you felt his fingers trail down the curve of your cheek, tenderly caressing your face. Before coming to a slow halt at the tip of your chin, gently pushing it upwards.

His hand firm under your chin, he guides your eyes towards his. Those emerald pupils that seem to shimmer like a starry sky, a deep, rich green. Malleus leans in closer, the warmth of his breath wafting against your lips. His own lips twitched into a smile, the ghost of a smirk flickering across his face.

With a remarkably smug drawl, Malleus spoke. His voice honeyed sweet, and as rich as red wine:

“Now tell me, my dear.

Would this be considered as… rizz?”

[dawnbreakersgaze]

I edited myself a lot of new lock and home screens in the last 30 days (because ADHD says I must change them frequently), so I thought I'd share them! They range from subtle to heavy, and definitely favor folks who keep the top half of their screens clear.

Anyway, enjoy!

[sh1-n0bu]

dragon boys getting fucked dropping soon. dragon lovers beware

[brisquad-unit-4402]

"how do you kiss hard?" - ike eveland 2023

mike…

i swear i’m trying to do my requests i swear i swear it’s just that i keep hearing livers say things and that’s what gets the neurons firing for some reason

this entire fic is a joke if you know you know. and brother there's a lot to know

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship(?), ike is in a pretentious mood but dw about it, it’s literally just a page of making out with ike lol

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Between two pages of his book, Ike snorts. His mouth curves up, barely visible between the paper, amusement before his expertise can kick in. When it does, his brows knit together while that pitying smile remains. 

A hand rubs along the back of his shoulder while you look over it. “Someone’s being pretentious.”

Ike stifles his laugh this time. It sounds like he’s sniffing. “Can you blame me? This author has such a good mystery plot going on, but they write so many romance clichés it’s not even funny.” He scoots closer to you on the couch and points out the words. “Look at that. How do you ‘kiss hard?’”

“What, you haven’t kissed hard before?” You joke.

“Hard no.”

“Naaah, you’ve definitely done it before.”

“Really, now.” The book collapses on itself with Ike’s thumb marking his page. As he slides a bookmark in, he reflects your coy energy right back at you. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well, sure.” You slide next to him on the couch. Feeling a monologue coming along, Ike sets the book aside to give you his undivided attention, if not a little pompous. “A light kiss would be like this.”

It’s over as soon as it starts. You brush Ike’s messy, blue-toned hair out of the way so you can peck him on the forehead. The print of your lip eases the quirk out of his eyebrow. 

He flashes a smile, still trying to keep that pompous air up. “I know what a light kiss is.”

“Great job, honey. Proud of you.” His hair falls back into place as your hand trails down his face. It oscillates between the jawline and the sweetened apple of his cheeks, sprouting blossoms as your thumb presses along his skin. “Now here’s what a hard kiss feels like.”

‘Whiplash’ would be an apt name for it. The peck—the light kiss—it was tender, and in a way, how you took to Ike next was tender as well, encompassing and boiling along, unable to hold yourself back from pouring over. Ike squeaks. A tiny whimper under your churning, lost in the steam. He runs raw under your lips as you gnaw and writhe under his skin. An uncontrollable heat sprouts from your mouth, the breath of a dragon, along trails of gasoline and wet lips that set him alight. 

He whimpers again. The pressure is almost too much to bear, but how you clutch onto his shirt draws him back to your warmth. The fabric curls under your grasp, threatening to wrinkle, tugging on his shirt and exposing where his neck connects to collar and chest. Ike bends apart when you take the base of his neck and reach for his jaw again, just as greedy for reciprocation as you are for that uncovered skin. It must taste delicious underneath your lips. You want to see him jolt at the pressure and the teeth marks under a bite, turning an angry, lovey red that begs for more before he does. 

But that’s a kiss for later, and this is a hard kiss now, and if it wasn’t obvious before this isn’t his first. He clings to you by your hips, the rise and fall of his fishnets distinct under his hands, growing rougher as the seconds go by. If the mesh leaves marks on his palms, then they would match the smattering against his lips. You attack fiendishly. There is no tact nor methodology. Only the urge to take him apart, and leave him clueless as you meld along his circuits. Quick bites and glazed tongues pry him open with embers weaved between. 

Even with your warning the hard kiss took him by surprise, and now he recovers. What were once whimpers are now hidden moans between the open-mouthed kiss, but if you could hear them between the ruffling fabric and craving hands, that’s lost to you. It’s the lingering vibration deep in his throat instead that drives you to take him in further. You line his mouth with nips and prods, guiding him to lace his tongue through the corners, a needle to fabric stitched tight. 

Thready hands drag out from the curve of your hips and soak in the shelf along the small of your back. The tangle of limbs knit closer, then meet, then tumble out along the cushions of the couch. It doesn’t interrupt even as you readjust over him, sewing your body on top while he lays pinned underneath you, fluffy hair like a halo on the cushions of the couch with shivers down his spine and a slithering, satisfied sigh that shakes as he keeps you connected to his lips. 

Your shirt hem brushes along Ike’s knuckles as he squirms, slotting himself against you, stroking and savoring skin on skin. The rest of the shirt runs between his fingers as they splay out on your back. They crawl upward even as Ike’s eyes are sewn shut, committing each inch of skin and spine to memory while you’re all he can sense.

With your touch spread across him, Ike looks like ruin. You let go, but the collar of his shirt remains lopsided, and the way his collarbone connects to rounded shoulders steals your breath away. His hair is even messier than usual now that your fingers tousle through it.

Your tongue nurses over what syrupy pain you left behind. His lips are rubied under your glistening care. You bring him back to health with a thumb rubbing along his ear and the rest of your hand combing through ashy brown hair, candy on your tongue so addictive one hit couldn’t possibly be enough.

The seams come apart. Blearily, Ike’s eyes open; two strikes of green and gold shine under long, half-lidded lashes. With your mouths still pressed against each other, he’s so close you can see the subtle streaks of color in his eyes. The traces of disbelief and delight unrestrained.

In a final move, you purse your lips for one last taste. There’s a tiny smack in the air as your mouth separates from his.

Moving away is like swimming underwater. You push yourself up and get a good look at Ike as you come down, still pinned down with your arms on either side of his shoulders. His clothes are disheveled. 

The air is thick, not with tension, but rather the weight of the hard kiss. You can still feel your chest rise and small pants from Ike as the both of you regain your breath. “Get it now?” You ask. 

“Reader,” he says, out of breath but firm. “You know we’ve done this before.”

A smirk spreads across your face. “So I jogged your memory?”

“It never needed jogging in the first place.” He’s been pink this entire time, but now it seems like he’s shying away after all the heated kisses. He buries his head into a cushion that muffles his voice. “You know it was a style issue, right?”

“Hm?”

“It’s not like I didn’t know. It was just worded awkwardly in the book.”

The dots slowly connect. “The book. So…”

“‘Kissed really hard’,” Ike quotes. He laughs, and his uneven breaths make him sound all the more spellbound. “The author could’ve used so many better descriptors and settled on ‘kissed really hard’. That’s such a weak move.”

“Yeah.” 

“Passionate, sensual, helpless.” He ticks off as he raises his head. He kisses your neck, neither light nor hard. Something new to explore. “Debauched.”

“Uh-huh…” Your mind goes blank. There’s no reason for him to kiss you like this. It’s all on his own terms, because he wants to, and being the center of his attention now just because has you going woozy. You may have bitten off more than you can chew.

“Poor guy. Doesn’t have a clue on what we have.” Another pulse along your neck. Ike thumbs along your nape, a soothing gesture under short kisses growing rougher. He quotes the rest of the passage he showed you. “'Amy kissed Sonic so hard that he was thinking “Let's have sex” but he didn't say it because the teacher would show up by the time they started to have sex in History class. Sonic kissed back really hard and it was sexy to everyone.' I mean, seriously? His gay balls are the least of his problems.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi ✧. ┊lol sonic high school reference

[skitskatdacat63]

Legally unable to disclose what emotion this clip made me feel

[comradekatara]

if u want, rank who would survive having RAPUNZEL hair the longest

ranked from most to least

ty lee. her hair is already pretty long, so i think she could survive having hair of any length as long as it was braided. and then i could see her using her really thick, really long braid as a weapon, like a whip or a lasso. this wouldn't even be a problem for her. if anything it would be a boon.

toph. while i love the idea of toph having short hair, i think if toph had extremely long hair she would put dirt in it and then bend it around like a weapon. imagine getting ko'd by a child's disgusting messy hair.

katara. again, she would just braid it. like ty lee, she already has pretty long hair, so she could find creative ways to style it. and also maybe wet it and then use it like a weapon. to be honest i can't believe katara never actually did that; dumped a bucket of water on sokka, or zuko, etc. and then waterbent the moisture in their hair into crazy styles. this would be a great prank, katara take notes!

mai. again, mai's hair is already pretty long. again, mai could use her hair like a weapon. flinging her pigtails around with enough force to slice people in half.

azula. proud haver of the world's biggest topknot. she'd thrive until the weight pushing down on her head snapped her neck. rip.

sokka. he's not used to having long hair, and i think he'd trip over it a lot and curse his fate, but eventually he'd find some ingenious way to use it to his advantage. i don't know how, but he would.

zuko. he is in fact the most likely to have rapunzel hair out of all of them, since his hair grows at an alarming rate, but i do not think he would enjoy it in the slightest. if he got katara to braid it he'd be okay, but the more likely scenario is that he accidentally sets his own hair on fire immediately.

suki. she is not used to having hair that is below shoulder-length, she does not like it, it feels gross, she cuts it immediately.

aang. he would simply kill himself.

[shiningstars-world]

Anti sns:

"Sns are brothers!! Ewww you ship incest!!"

Meanwhile them in nutshell:

Ship borusara

Sarada: "boruto was like a brother to me"

Ss fans who ship borusara:

'Nooo sarada loves borutooo

Sarada and boruto's relationship is not look likes Sns!! They're not sister and brother!!

They're not cousins!!"

Meanwhile them calling sns brother....🥴🤡

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

Regarding one of your latest posts because I had to do a double-take at that. Are you trying to tell me that Antigone fans are nominating rivals for some kind of tragic character harem for Lloyd? Because I swear this poll keeps resulting in some kind of constant descent towards Things I Did Not Expect In Even The Wildest Timeline.

Oh. Oh it’s so much wilder than that.

[deesi-academia]

People should be thankful I ask for karma and don't execute revenge

[payidaresque]

[solsthiems]

“IF YOU LIKE JIM DEFROQUE YOURE A BAD PERSON!!!1!!1!!1!”

[sellingsecrets]

Can we get a little commotion for the dress?

(Again, sorry my phone is Like This. Also yes that is a violin.)

[soulsanctuary]

she really stabbed him in the ass huh. should’ve done the other cheek too

[ikaishere]

AUGHHH i really want to write a little drabble for one of the drawing prompts asks I got yesterday to go with the art, but I've become so hesitant towards writing recent days like, I do have those stupid 2 oneshots and one longer fix posted, but I don't even like them, idk, I don't like my writing. balls

[star-shapedfruit]

Shitting fuck fuckity FUCK. AAAAAAAA.

[thecluelessdoctor]