#does this count as fic? idk

[kasmusser]

Lucy poses on purpose, of course. Stances and Anti-Stances. Moments were she makes the world move around her or through her separated between a foot being a fraction of a degree to the left or right. It’s not noticeable day to day, perhaps she carries herself with a bit of weight. Perhaps someone asks if she’s from a military family & she is only a little offended.

Avery poses on accident. It comes naturally to her and she’s not aware of it, as we know. It’s less of these fighting stances and more of the superhero poses. She stands on lamp posts & phone lines, puffs out her chest and angles her body, she lands in the superhero pose after large falls. It’s not noticeable day to day, she was always like this. Always on the run, always with her chest puffed out proudly.

Verona does not pose. You can’t make her. She shlinks and lurks and stands there awkwardly. She sits in positions that can’t be comfortable. She does not pose. She stands awkwardly at best and doesn’t stand still. It’s nothing to worry about, Verona has always been a bit like that.

[mangostarjam]

leaving bite marks on kiyoomi's biceps. he wears compression sleeves up to the edge of his uniform shirt, so it should be fine, right?

not that you care, not that you're even thinking about it when he's got your ankles up by your ears and you're trying to stifle your moans in his skin. in the moment the sting barely registers, all of his focus is on the slick clench of you around him, the way your nails scrabble down his broad back as his thrusts grow erratic.

it isn't until atsumu spots the ring of teeth marks at the volleyball court later that he remembers.

"omi-omi, what's that?" comes out in a shriek that pierces his eardrums. kiyoomi doesn't even look at him, but the expression on his face is clearly ticked off.

"it's nothing."

"hold up, are those bite marks?" atsumu gets close enough to tug at the sleeves, but kiyoomi jerks his arm away. "what, were you fightin' a hellcat or somethin'?"

kiyoomi fixes him with a flat stare. "are you sure you go on dates?"

atsumu splutters. "whaddaya mean?! i go on tons a dates!"

"doubtful."

[moccasins]

i need to see the uty crew interact with the classic ut crew. please. starlo and alphys ranting about their favorite human films. martlet and papyrus making puzzles. ceroba and toriel and maybe asgore having ✨️therapy✨️

[littledreamling]

I just had a fantastic thought

If Hob was 33 in 1389 (my personal headcanon, since I heard somewhere that Ferdinand Kingsley was 33 at the time of filming), that means he was born in 1356. His birthday in the year of 2022 is his 666th birthday. You know went HARD this year, even if he couldn’t tell his friends and colleagues exactly why

[maxcuntstappen]

checo spends more time than anyone with lestappen what with cooldown rooms interviews, barging into Max’s drivers room unannounced etc etc

So he just, accepts Charles presence as The Constant in the world. And So when lestappen can’t talk right away he actually finds himself in interesting strat convos with Charles. Leading to them talking abt random stuff until Max steals charles away once again

So recently, with Charles being gone. He’s a bit confused? like max is but slightly less. Like?? who’s he supposed to talk to now?? Max? All they’re gonna do is talk about Charles!!

Well, that doesn’t sound to bad actually. So they do. And whoever the third is just has to sit there and take the convo of the two red bulls lamenting about how they miss charles and charles should be here and charles is so cool and on and on

(idk also in my mind they go out for drinks after races sometimes :) for funsies)

"Sooo..." Checo starts, before awkwardly trailing off.

Max blinks at him, once, twice.

And then Checo needs to look away because there's only so much time a man can stare at Max's nearly-too-blue eyes without finding themself stuttering and stumbling.

Checo has had to learn this the hard way.

The race has only just finished. A Red Bull 1-2. A good day at the office.

There's just one thing missing.

The wrong colour race suit hovers around them.

Maybe Checo had begun taking Charles' presence for granted.

Relied on him being around too much, too often. Being way too comfortable with the other two doing the talking and socialising and letting it wash over him, chipping in if he wanted to.

But otherwise, just chilling out.

Neither Max nor him know what to do now.

Standing around in a loose circle, shuffling their feet, waiting for the interviews to begin.

The silence is anything but comfortable.

Checo needs to do something.

Needs to say something.

Now.

"So, Max, what about Charles' last lap overtake, huh?"

The effect is instant; blue eyes lighting up, hands taking flight.

"Mate," Max begins, and then he's off, talking a mile a minute.

And it's comfortable. Familiar. Checo cannot help but smile, relaxing into it.

If either of them had paused, or perhaps even cared, to notice. They would notice the third place man grumbling as he walked off, "You have to be fucking kidding me."

[actual-changeling]

He told me about white wings and halos, and I remembered your stars, all I can think about are your stars.

You told me the stars are waiting for us, they are still where you put them, carefully, reverently, and you asked me to come visit them with you.

I said yes— tell me you said no.

(I love you, I love you, loved you then, love you now.)

Yes to heaven.

No to us?

You're the one giving up, not me.

(No to heaven. Yes to you, believe me, believe me.)

It shouldn't matter now. It still matters.

I keep seeing your stars, your smile, lit up and shining brighter than your creations, we can be together among them again, angels. I don't care about white wings and halos but I care about you, and I can make them care about you; they should care about you like I do.

(I haven't seen you smile like that since.)

You can't leave.

(I never made you smile like that.)

We can make your stars last forever.

There's no we anymore.

(I'll look at your stars and pray you can sense me looking at you.

There's stardust in your eyes, on your skin, and it makes me taste the joy your stars gifted to you.

I don't want halos and white wings if it kills the night sky in your soul.)

I'll wait for you to come back.

[jfleamont]

Hey for your jily muse, out of order <3

Okay this is unforgivable, I know. You sent this prompt over two months ago. TWO. This ask has been sitting in my inbox since the 18th of January, so you probably won't even remember sending this but I promise you I've been thinking about it constantly and waiting to have free time to work on it and I have this tendency to leave things unfinished so this is me working through that as well lol

Without further ado, here it is ❤️

Out of Order - 744 words

Evans is in the boys' bathroom. She's in the boys' bathroom and she's crying.

One of her hands is gripping the sink, while the other fruitlessly wipes the tears that keep escaping.

She hasn't noticed his arrival, and Sirius doesn't bother clearing his throat. “I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason for this.”

She makes a startled noise and turns to face him, her expression a mixture of anger and sadness. It's comical, really, so Sirius laughs.

“There is,” she mutters as she wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jumper. Her voice lacks the edge she usually aims at him— and at James, too, though Sirius can't help but notice a slight difference there.

He walks towards her and hands her his monogrammed tissue - he's never used it for this purpose specifically, but it has proved to be useful during the occasional prank or after a rough full moon - which she grabs immediately. She doesn't thank him, but he doesn't expect her to.

“Ah well, that's all I needed to know. It's not like you're invading my personal space or something.”

She lifts an eyebrow and eyes him curiously, looking more like her usual self. “I'm sorry, is there a plaque or an inscription that I haven't noticed? Does House Black monogram bathrooms as well as tissues?”

“Not that I'm aware of, no. Don't give my mother ideas, though, she might actually try to do that.”

She makes an attempt at a smile, but it quickly turns into a quiet sob.

“Apparently there can only be one crying girl per bathroom, and Myrtle has claimed the one across the corridor as hers so it's out of order,” she explains as she tries to regain control of her emotions, “and I thought this one was empty since everyone is heading down to watch the match.”

“You were right... for the most part. Why aren't you going then?”

“No reason,” she replies, her voice even, but she's not looking at him.

Sirius thinks he knows why. He suspects it has to do with the good luck kiss that Cornelia Kettleburn gave James at breakfast and how quickly Lily disappeared after that.

“Cool. I'm not going either. Fancy going to the Astronomy tower for a smoke?”

She looks taken aback. “I— wait, why aren't you going?”

In truth Sirius wants to go, and James is going to kill him for this, but lately he's been claiming that he no longer has feelings for Lily, and Sirius hates being lied to, so technically this is just payback.

“James got on my nerves so I'm skipping the match in protest,” he adds with a shrug and it's the truth, because it wouldn't be fair to lie. “So, are we smoking or not? Got a fag I can borrow?”

She's not an idiot: she knows this is an olive branch of sorts. Sirius can tell she's deciding whether to believe him or not; after a moment she sighs, and Sirius knows he's won.

“Haven't you got your own? Merlin, you're cheap,” she says while producing a pack of cigarettes from her satchel and handing it to him, a smirk on her face. He's glad to see that she seems to have calmed down significantly.

“I'm trying to quit so I stopped carrying them around,” he replies and grabs one, putting it in the breast pocket of his vest.

“Looks like it's working,” she notes as she fixes her appearance in front of the mirror and readies herself to leave the room.

“Absolutely.”

“Why are you mad at Potter anyway? Thought you two were inseparable,” she asks as she walks towards the door, a step ahead of him so that he can't see her face.

“Can't tell you, it's a secret.”

She huffs. “You lot are starting to sound ridiculous with all these secrets,” she whips her head towards him, her disapproval clear on her face, though he's almost certain this is just another way of disguising her curiosity. “Is this little group of yours a cult or something?”

“It's a counterculture,” he explains as he exits the bathroom, “how else are we going to beat those bigoted dickheads? The only way to fight a cult is with another cult.”

He's just joking, but the idea doesn't sound half bad to his ears.

Apparently Lily disagrees, because she snorts. Loudly. “Not sure about that logic but you do you, I guess.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Anytime, Black.”

[sunshinebingo]

@gwynrielweeksofficial Day 5 - Domestic Life

Synopsis: Gwyn finds comfort in the arms of Azriel after she has a nightmare.

Word Count: 800

Read on Ao3

Deep breath in through the nose. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Now out through the mouth. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Deep breath in through the nose. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Out through the mouth. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

The fog in her mind slowly dissipated. Gwyn heard the faint echoes of Azriel’s voice rising above the pounding of her heart.

Deep breath in. And out. Deep breath in. And out.

She registered his voice guiding her through it before she felt him close to her. She reached out a hand towards where she knew his was waiting, hesitant to touch her lest he made things worse. Azriel knew where her mind had brought her to. There was only one nightmare that could cause Gwyn to scream and beg the way she had been doing a few minutes ago. Her cries had been loud enough to travel through the walls that separated their respective bedrooms in the House of Wind.

Gwyn turned on her side and, with her eyes still closed, grabbed Azriel’s hand with both of hers. The familiar ridges of his scars and his voice reminding her to breathe slowly cleared her head until the phantom touch of rough hands on her body was completely gone.

“You are safe Gwyn,” his deep voice wrapped her and warmed her better than the thin blanket that half covered her.

Azriel brushed away the strands of hair that had escaped her bun and stuck to her sweaty forehead with his free hand before lowering it to her face to wipe away her tears.

“You are in the Night Court, in your bedroom in the House of Wind. You are safe.”

He was right. She wasn’t in that wretched kitchen nor with those monsters anymore. But it wasn’t so much the reminder of the place that she was currently in that reassured her the most. Gwyn couldn’t care less at this moment in what court or what house she was at. What meant the most to her was the person who was now with her. It was those scarred and infinitely gentle hands in hers and caressing her face. It was that voice that had pulled her out of her nightmare. It was his shadows that she knew, even with her eyes still closed, were swirling around her like a shield of darkness. It was that steady and comforting presence that had helped her then, and which was still here for her now.

“Azriel?”

He immediately moved closer at the sound of his name hesitantly coming out of her lips. It pained him to hear the remnants of fear in her voice.

“Can you hold me?” she asked even as she started gliding closer to him.

Azriel would do anything to help her and he obviously would gladly start with that. He pulled his hands away and wrapped his arms around her as he lied down and pulled her closer. Gwyn placed both of her hands on his chest, delighted for the fact that he was shirtless so that she could soak in the warmth radiating from his bare skin.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

She did not need anything else but him holding her. Nothing could make her feel better. Except maybe one thing.

“Hold me tighter,” she said, rubbing her nose on his skin and inhaling his unique scent.

Azriel tightened his arms around her and pulled her even closer.

“Tighter.”

He repeated the gesture. He didn’t stop, squeezing her tighter and tighter until the sound of her giggle pierced a hole in the heaviness that had been hovering in the air.

“Not too tight, Az. I don’t want to run out of air,” she said, her voice slightly muffled from her face being pressed against his chest.

Some of his shadows left the cocoon they had made around them to dance across her neck and shoulder. Azriel chuckled as he loosened a little of his strong hold on her.

The lingering fear from Gwyn’s nightmare vanished with the heavy sigh that she let out once Azriel figured out the perfect way to hold her.

“Just like that. Can you hold me a for moment?”

Azriel kissed the top of her head before resting his own there. “I will hold you for as long as you want me to.”

Gwyn smiled. Her nightmare might have shaken her but it did not matter. She was safe and she was not alone. Nothing could break her. And when she was in the arms of the Shadowsinger, nothing could scare her either.

[deankarolina]

Go read if i could hold you by @sapphicscience right now!

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

"We welcome you, EMPLOYEE NAME NOT FOUND, and know you'll enjoy your new job here at the Freddy Fazbear Mega-PizzaPlex!" "Uh, I actually used to work here, but... yeah, okay, thanks, haha." It's been half a decade since you've been here, but nostalgia, or something like it, has you here again, donning the uniform once more and hopeful that this will be just what you need after the last few years. Eager to meet an old friend, you find that in your impatience you've gotten yourself into a mess you're not sure you will come out of happier. The old friend you've missed is now two strangers, but you want that friend back badly enough to choose to rekindle the relationship using the bits and pieces the two strangers seem to recall. You make new friends, here- and you tell yourself that that's fine, and you're happy now, with two friends and that sense of familiarity and comfort this place fills you with. But nothing seems to fill the void that's eating you from the inside. And while you know you just need to choose to be happier, things keep getting stranger- soon your new friends are acting even odder than before, and you're not sure how to help them. And what's with that new security guard and her weird mask, anyway?

anyway the Ruin dlc gave me so many brain worms and now i have a new fic idea yee haw *dies*

[nostalgia-tblr]

"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.

[mediawhorefics]

14/09/2019

In mid-September, Harry comes home.

A Tired Tired Sea Coda.

[jascurka]

doodl today

[lamentfulwarbler]

Losing my shit at this passage from The Untold Origins of the Detective Agency-

[sp00pylilac]

Made some fanart for my fic!

“Wow, What a surprise” On Ao3 :D

(I have no idea how to add images to ao3 and I’m STRESSING 💀if any of y’all have any advice I’d much greatly appreciate it 😭🙏)

Art of Shelldon by my friend @arteest200 :D✨ also check out their insta @leon_draws209 >:]✨

[j3llyf1shdust]

fussssssion!!

here’s a version without my notebook sketches underneath it. (I’m not usually a digital artist, but i like how clean it makes my references look)

I am so proud of those shoes I’m gonna be totally honest here. also yes this is a gay fusion they are gay here garnet from SU was an inspiration because i like her concept its cool. (i dont watch the show but i do know shes technically two lesbians in a trench coat. or the culmination of their love given form or something) I took the “their relationship given form” kinda idea and ran with it.

eh, i made it for fun. im going to be honest i mostly just want to show off those badass shoes. I’m so proud of them.