#i'm going to write a drabble

[bakuliwrites]

I haven’t ever necessarily wanted to write a crossover fic before, but between Julian, Lucio, and Astarion, the temptation is mighty. What would going to a tavern with them be like??? Or shopping??? Or a heist??? The absolute chaos that would ensue would be mind boggling. The fucking drama that would occur if the three of them were in a campaign together.

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.

[urprettylildoe]

Warning: yandere behaviour, nsfw but not that much.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

yandere pilot who's so smitten with you <3

Red skirt, tight button up and a gorgeous smile with a matching red lip.

You looked absolutely sinful. And who could blame him, the jet-lagged pilot who needed to unwind. Once he laid his eyes on you, a particularly cute air hostess, he just couldn't look away.

"Such a sweet, sweet thing." His thumb and forefinger held your chin up, leaving no room for you to look away. He had managed to corner you after the flight, when the plane was all empty. "Always taking good care of us, hm?"

Shooting him a nervous smile, your eyes darted around the empty aisle. Even if someone was there, you're pretty sure they'd turn a blind eye to a mind like him.

You weren't blind to the way he looked at you in the cockpit — and he was a sight for sore eyes himself, with his mature yet handsome face and aura.

He continued speaking, talking about how you were "always so caring and kind" and what not. Even if you had met your fair share of flirtarious passengers, you still felt heat in your cheeks and your loins.

"Thank you, sir, but I-"

"What's the rush, honey?" The pilow drawled out the syllables of his sentences, pressing you up against a seat, toned forearm against the overhead bin.

The thought of someone walking in on you wasn't exactly pleasant. You could get fired and he would be practically untouchable. Oh, but how he wanted it happen so no more men could leer at you anymore in those tight uniforms.

Before you could even utter another word, he leaned in further, tone dropping an octave. "Tell me —" there was a veneer of friendliness about the way he spoke now. "— you got a thing for Ron?"

Oh.

You cringed internally. Your job as an air hostess meant that you had to flash a grin and tolerate the passengers no matter how tired you were, including the pilots. And it just so happened that you were caught smiling extra hard at the co-pilot.

This is bad.

Shaking your head frantically: "n-no, sir" with the look in his eyes and the absence of anyone on board, you doubted he'd let you off the hook. You needed to try, however.

"You sure? Cause I could've sworn that you were all over him back there"

"Yeah," your reply was meek; desperate for him to believe you, like waiting for a verdict with each ticking second.

Then, his lips quirked up in a haunting smile, "then it won't hurt if I get a taste of ya as well then."

Wrong answer.

You certainly learned that and the importance of thinking before speaking when he had you pressed up against a seat, head up your skirt and your thigh over his shoulder.

"Ohhh, m'gorgeous girl" he rasped, the words garbled like a boy speaking with his mouth too full. "So hot and bothered, all for me, not for Ron, not for any of those men-" his tongue swirled against your skin, igniting pleasure throughout your body.

Head thrown back and stars swimming in your vision, you could only pray that you'd even get out of the lion's den alive.

And right when he was done with a hand wiping at his mouth, you realised from the glint of his eye that he wasn't full just yet.

"Let's take this to the hotel, hm?"

[on1knee4marksmen]

Another late night though for you guys that are still here:

Logan with animalistic instincts that get stronger when he's able to relax and loosen up. So much so that it becomes a subconscious thing around you.

He doesn't even realise it most of the time, but you've made him so comfortable around you that he's shutting his brain off and letting his instincts take over. A.k.a doing stuff that anyone else would label weird, but in your eyes they're so..him.

Holding you extra close. Burying his face as deep into your neck as it can go, sniffing you or taking big, long inhales of your scent. Exhaling deeply immediately after, grumbling or groaning but in that relaxed way that reminds you so much of a purr.

Curling up into your side or laying his head in your lap. Nuzzling the tip of his nose into yours, sometimes he'd even do it bursting with (playfully aggressive) affection, so much so that his nose would scrunch when he smiles. The nose scrunch smile would also come out when he's feeling devious. So would playful and affectionate hair ruffles.

Scratch this man's beard like you'd scratch a cat behind his ears and he'd die happy. He swears your simplest touch makes the crease between his eyebrows disappear.

Logan would nest. But 100% deny it.

...But then arrange all the pillows and duvets and fluffy blankets he could find in the mansion in his bed anyway. And then when you went to lay down beside him, he'd just grumble sleepily and pull you close, before pulling the blankets over you too. It would make him feel so cozy and warm and safe :((

Would probably be too sleepy to properly get any sort of words out, but his 'I love you's would be just as special when silent.

A forehead kiss. Pulling you into him. Nestling closer into your chest or neck - or keeping your face in his chest or neck with a warm palm on the back of your head, massaging your scalp and playing with your hair. Letting you use his bicep as a pillow.

100% would nuzzle into you. In any way possible.

It reminds you of an animal wanting to scent something to mark it as his, or a kitty searching for scratches under the chin - his cheek always nuzzled into the top of your head repeatedly, or his nose does in the crook of your neck, making you giggle. You'd tell him to stop the latter if you were ticklish, but he'd just move to instead nuzzle his cheek into yours with an unhappy grumble. Would totally let out deep, sleepy sounds too. And they'd totally remind you of purrs.

The closeness keeps Logan grounded. Calms him down. Tells him you're really here. He'd love you endlessly, and it would show in his every step, in his every breath. And hell, if he lets his instincts take a little more control around you, if you trust him so much that he begins to trust himself enough to relax - then maybe, just maybe, he'd finally let himself believe you love him back.

[jasmineoolongtea]

whenever someone asks boxer!eren what motivates him, he gives them two answers.

the first answer, of course, is his mum. at the end of the day, he's a mama's boy through and through and that's something he's fully unabashed about by naming her as his number 1 supporter.

the second reason is you. he knows that he can always look to the side and see you, his pretty pretty girlfriend, standing right there in the crowd, cheering him on like his very own personal cheerleader. the moment the bell rings to signal that the match is over and they announce his victory, he's already making his way over to where you are because having you in his arms is a better reward than any trophy or championship title he could win.

and if his opponents even so happen to glance at you in the wrong way (and that's a very broad definition according to eren), then you can guarantee that they'll be knocked out cold on the floor within the span of less than a minute.

don't even bother asking him about what just happened because all he'll do is give you a wry smile and innocently ask for a kiss to congratulate him on his victory.

what he doesn't tell them is the third answer on that list of his. he keeps quiet about the handful of polaroids he keeps hidden away in his locker. before he heads into the ring, eren finds himself looking at them not only for good luck (because when has a bit of good luck ever hurt anyone) but also to remind him what he's fighting for.

the first polaroid is a picture of you, him and his family standing on the porch of his childhood house from a few summers ago. the second one is a drunken photo of you, him and his friends at your housewarming party. he likes to joke that his whole world is in those two photos to which you always respond by rolling your eyes affectionately at him.

the third and fourth polaroids are very different compared to the previous ones. he has his hands wrapped around your waist in the third one, his face messily littered with smudged lipstick marks as he grins against your lips. you're wearing a shirt that's way too big for you as the collar has slid off to one side to reveal a collection of freshly made hickies blooming on your skin with more trailing down underneath the fabric and ending at god knows where.

the fourth polaroid, which is hidden safely under all the others, is his favourite out of all of them. it's a photo of you, wrapped up in nothing but his bedsheets, as you lie underneath him. you're staring straight up at the camera, more specifically at eren who's behind said camera, with kiss-swollen lips and an expression of fucked-out bliss. almost every inch of your skin is covered in marks and your hair is splayed out messily behind you like some kind of halo.

to eren, the best part about the photo is the silver 'e' initial necklace that sits perfectly in the middle of your chest as a constant reminder that you're his.

[laseracronym]

Hungover (Aizawa/Fem!Reader, NSFW)

Summary: You wake up in bed with Aizawa after a drunken one-night stand. (Aizawa/Fem!Reader)

(Content: Smut, references to drunk sex.)

MHA-MHA-MHA

Your head is pounding when you wake up, but the room is blessedly dark. You groan softly, going to move but pausing when you feel the weight of a strong arm draped over you. Opening your eyes, you find yourself peering into the sleeping face of your coworker, Aizawa.

You blink, sluggish and bleary, studying his surprisingly peaceful expression as you sort through your muddy memories of the night before. Your eyes drift down to his mouth and you're struck, suddenly and vividly, by the memory of that mouth between your legs as he drunkenly, sloppily, ravenously ate you out with an enthusiasm that you rarely saw the man show anything.

"Holy fuck..." you breathe, reaching up to rub your forehead as your memories solidify even further, and you become aware of the delicious soreness in your body. A couple lingering licks of arousal stir low in your belly at the images and phantom sensations flashing through your mind's eye, though you're much too hungover for it to build into anything substantial.

"Mm..." you hear Aizawa grumble softly as he stirs, his arm unconsciously tightening around your middle as those dark eyes blink awake. It takes a moment before his eyes focus in on you and he pauses, looking at you with an almost confused squint like he didn't know why you were there. A mirror of the expression you wore just moments before. You see the moment he remembers, the slight, nearly concealed intake of breath, the faintest blush on his face that was only visible because you were so close to him, "oh."

It takes a lot to ruffle the stoic underground hero, but yeah, this would do it.

"Morning..." you say softly, because you don't know what else to say.

"...morning," he returns stiffly, it looks like he doesn't know what to say either. He's studying your face intently, his eyes searching yours. Idly, you remember the molten heat his eyes carried the night before as he held you close and fucked you, gazing down at you as if you were the most erotic, heavenly being he'd ever laid eyes upon.

He shifts, his arm loosening around you. He's pulling away but you can't allow it, your hand catches his wrist to keep it in place. He stops, and there's a moment of hesitation before he allows you to wrap his arm around you again. You feel his body relax against the mattress again, his head right in front of yours.

You look at him, your hand drifting up his arm. "...I'm still sleepy," you tell him as you wrap your arm around him, wriggling just a bit closer until your noses are nearly touching.

Something in Aizawa's gaze softens and he holds you closer, "right..."

You close your eyes and the two of you slowly begin to drift back to sleep. You'll figure out what to say once the hangover wears off.

(Requests)

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: improper use of plumping lipgloss, mentions of alcohol, oral sex, it's steddie endgame i promise | crossposted on twitter

it’s no secret, steve likes making out. likes isn’t a strong enough word. he loves making out. loves grabbing hold of someone and pulling them close, loves laying over them on a couch, on a bed, hips just barely moving as he takes them apart with lips and teeth and tongue.

that doesn’t change once he’s had a few drinks either, body tingling with tequila or vodka or something equally strong that has his inhibitions thrown to the wind. he’s always able to find someone willing to dance with him, hips pressed together and arms wrapped around shoulders.

it’s usually girls, pretty things with pretty hair that draw steve in like a punch drunk happy moth to an overzealous flame. they��ll turn their heads with a flirty shy smile and follow him out to the dance floor before pressing up tight against his front.

they’ll curl their fingers into his where they rest low on their hips and keep him close. they’ll drop their heads onto his shoulder and let their breath ghost over the side of his face until he gets the all too obvious hint.

steve likes making out on a dance floor. no, not likes.

loves.

that is until his lips are covered in sticky, sweet lip gloss and he’s pulling away because his tongue is on fire, tingling from something other than alcohol and the thrill of being in a pretty girl’s mouth.

“what is that?” he yells into her ear over the bumping bass.

“sorry,” the girl says sheepishly, “it’s my lipgloss. it plumps my lips.”

she goes back in to kiss steve once more and he isn’t exactly going to deny her. her lips are pretty just like her, plump and shiny and all too inviting, so he kisses her back. the gloss is spicy on the cracks of his lips, on the tip of his tongue when he he pulls her lip in between his teeth. it’s addictive in a way. he wonders if his own lips will plump up from the contact alone.

later, when they say their drawn out goodbyes outside of the club, he’ll ask to borrow the lip gloss since his night isn’t over yet. she’ll pull it out with a grin and apply it so sweetly to her own lips and then to his. her touch is gentle and precise before she puts the tube back in her purse and then connects their lips for a final time.

steve likes to make out. no, not likes.

loves.

so he goes to a bar around the corner, robin hot on his coat tails with some blonde she picked up attached to her side, and he’ll order a vodka soda that he can sip through a straw so he doesn’t destroy his pretty glossed lips. the bar is grungy, but steve almost prefers that, able to blend into smoky shadows and dark corners while he watches the crowd.

while he watches someone in the crowd watch him back.

he has wild curly hair and handcuffs on his belt and steve swears he’s staring at his lips and the way the light is bouncing off of the gloss, but he isn’t too sure. not until there’s wild curly hair and handcuffs on a belt standing right in front of him.

steve has a different confidence with guys. maybe it’s because he has to read them a little differently. maybe its because he gets read by them a little differently, too. but flirting is flirting all the same and steve finds himself biting at his lip and licking away some of the spicy lip gloss with a wince as it burns the inside of his mouth.

curly hair handcuff guy is cuter once they start talking for a while, all animated and vibrant, a bright shiny beacon in a dingy bar. he finds out his name is eddie with a lingering handshake that means something, fingers trailing and tingling like they had a spice to them, too.

they don’t dance, but they do end up out back, sharing a cigarette as drunk people stumble around them. it’s easy enough for eddie to light, flame from the lighter sparking in his big, brown eyes.

“so steve,” he says, flicker of some other kind of spark in his eye, “where to?”

and steve knows how to do this part. he grabs the cigarette out of eddie’s mouth and puffs on it himself, blowing the smoke over his head. “is it too forward to say i don’t think i can last much longer without getting my mouth on you?”

eddie grins and lets his eyes flit down. “no. is it too forward for me to say that i’d let you do anything to me, mouth or otherwise?”

he takes the cigarette back and steve can see his trace left behind on the filter, can see when the hint of gloss hits eddie’s lips if the wrinkle of his eyebrows is anything to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just winks over at steve. he doesn’t say anything, just drags him into a taxi. he doesn’t say anything, just wraps a hand high over steve’s thigh, just pushes steve up against his apartment wall, just fumbles over handcuffs and pushes down his jeans.

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

if he loves making out, then he really fucking craves giving head. he feels like a cartoon animal with hearts popping out of his head as he pulls eddie’s cock out of his briefs. he licks his lips like he’s starving and regrets it when the gloss singes his tongue.

steve looks up from his knees and swipes a finger over his lips, holding it up high for eddie to see. “taste it,” he whispers.

eddie’s eyes widen, but he obediently bends his neck, tongue lolling out so he can lap at steve’s finger. “your lip gloss is spicy,” eddie says flatly as he recoils.

steve nods. “and it’s going on your cock unless you say otherwise.”

which is how steve finds himself turning eddie into a writhing mess. his hands hold onto the backs of eddie’s shaking knees as he works over his cock. his hair stings as eddie tugs on the strands. his eyes water as he sucks him in deeper and deeper into his throat, spicy lipgloss tingly on his tongue and cheeks.

“you are a fucking wonder,” eddie whines, hips humping as he grinds himself further into steve’s mouth. “just fucking made for this, huh?”

steve pulls off and spits on his cock to jack his hand over it as he pulls the head to his lips. he rubs the sensitive tip over his lips just to watch eddie twitch.

“you have no idea.”

he blows a line of cool air over the gloss that’s left there and drinks in the way eddie’s eyes roll back in his head before swallowing him back down, reveling in the spice that hits the back of his throat as he does so.

when eddie comes, he pulls steve off so he can paint his pretty, puffy, plump lips with it, dragging his cock over them to make a mess. it’s not a surprise when steve licks it off, spicy and salty and a special kind of sweet that he thinks is all eddie. he leans up to place a kiss into the thatch of hair over eddie’s cock, smearing behind come and shiny lip gloss.

“you gonna wait for me to come in my pants or can i go fuck you?”

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

and he loves giving eddie head. and he loves fucking eddie. and he loves waking up with a spicy, sticky residue on the side of his cheek after falling asleep with his head on eddie’s chest.

and maybe, just maybe, he’ll love eddie someday, too.

[lilacgaby]

You don't understand how much I love the is he proposing or... and can you do hawks or shoto please?

is he proposing or has he been staring at bridal magazines often, asking your opinion on the floral, white dresses?

is he proposing or has he been taking your hand into his, and commenting on which gems he think would compliment your skin color?

is he proposing or has he been taking you to boutiques more frequently after your dates, asking you to try on dresses and buy all the ones that you like?

is he proposing or has he been questioning you more at home, his head in your lap as you watch tv, about what dates are your favorites?

is he proposing or has he been choosing cheesy romcoms that all end in wedding scenes, and jokingly re-enacting some lines with you?

is he proposing or did he send you off with fuyumi one day to go spoil yourselves? you two getting mani-pedis, your hair done, facials, waxings, and her asking some 'random' questions too? l

is he proposing or did he ask you to take the month off (he doesn't know why you work anyways)?

is he proposing or did he fly you two out to his summer home, spending week after week going on hikes, building sandcastles on the beach, swimming in exclusive jacuzzis, and dining on the coast?

is he proposing or did hand you a shell he 'found in the sand', though instead of a pearl it held a huge, sapphire stone with the first words from his planned vows embedded in the side of the ring?

you were momentarily rendered speechless as you looked to find shoto on one knee, looking up at you with a soft smile on his face. he recited perfectly memorized vows to you, speaking on how much he loved you, how he wished to be with you forever, and how beautiful he thought you are. he barely had a chance to ask before you slung your arms around his neck and hugged him, your laughs being the only sound besides the crashing waves. as you released him, your legs on top of his as he finally slipped the ring onto your fingers, you decided to take a walk on the moonlit beach to celebrate your first night as fiancés.

tags: @thrivingaintmything @hyunsuks-beanie @cupidsblonde

[kyehwas]

"sit still," mingyu demands, "i'm going to draw you."

"oh, really?" you get yourself in a cool pose that makes mingyu burst into laughter.

"trust me baby, i'll capture all of your astonishing beauty in this drawing!" mingyu starts drawing. he looks so concentrated it's adorable, with his tongue sticking out and eyes darting between his paper and you.

after five minutes, mingyu gets up from his chair with the paper in his hand. "ready?"

"of course, gyu."

mingyu holds the paper high enough to cover his face. to say the drawing looks interesting is an understatement.

your caricature has you biting your bottom lip to stifle your laughter. "gyu, i look great, but don't you think you should try another hobby..?" "are you saying my drawing looks bad?" he gives you his best worst puppy dog eyes, and you can't help but plant a kiss on his lips. "i said i looked great! but why is my nose like that? an-"

mingyu kissed you, your lips interlocked for a minute before he pulled back. "you're shut up now, hm? i thought so. don't judge my drawing skills again, " he scolds, but his mouth is turned up to form a smile.

a/n : SEVENTEEN RIGHT HERE 🗣🗣 yeah my first seventeen fic who cheered? I watched the video where he drew wonwoo and had to write this

[heyimkana]

Goooodddd morning/evening Kanaaaaa.

This morning i am plagued by the idea of Jinwoo playing an instrument. My bias has landed him on the cello but im curious what you think!

If Jinwoo could play any instruments what do you think he'd play? 👀👀

Anywhoo HAVE A GREAT DAY!

MARQQQQ GOOD MORNINGGGGG ❤️

what you wrote just now about jinwoo had me SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP UGHHHHH he'd look so good playing a cello!!!!!

i also think he'd look so beautiful sitting behind a piano 🥺 as a husband jinwoo enjoyer, I always picture him playing piano in the living room on a sunday morning. like after he took a shower, with his hair still damp, maybe pushed back, he walked into the living room and he saw you cooking in the kitchen and he gave you a hug from behind, kissing your neck, "Need any help, Angel?" and you shook your head no, smiling as you told him to relax and wait, "Breakfast will be ready soon."

and he went, "Okay, I'll keep you company." and he walked toward the piano, and sat there and he started playing with this gentle smile written on his lips. he shut his eyes closed, maybe even humming a little bit as he played. he was performing your favorite song that he learned in secret to impress you, his mind recalling the day he slow danced with you on the night he asked you to marry him. a lock of his hair fell over his eyes as he lost himself in the song, and he looked so, so pretty in his white button-down shirt, maybe even angelic.

his little daughter, maybe 4 or 5 year old, walked out from her bedroom, rubbing her eyes from sleep. and jinwoo smiled. "Sorry, honey, did I wake you?" and she nodded and he stopped a little bit just so she could crawl up to his lap. he kissed the top of her head, chuckling at her tousled hair. "Do you know this song, baby?"

she shook her head no.

"This is your mommy's favorite song. the reason why she married me is because i played this song when i proposed to her."

"I married you because you're rich," you joked, replying from the kitchen.

"Don't listen to that, Sweetheart. Mommy's shy because daddy knows everything about her. what she likes, what she doesn't like. what she really, really likes."

"Can you not say that in front of our daughter, please?"

Jinwoo chuckles. "Hey, Kiddo. What if we play your favorite song next?"

"Okay..."

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, his face soft, genuinely curious. when she told him what it was, he kissed her forehead, delighted. "Wanna play it together? Daddy will take this side, and you can take that one. On three, okay? One... Two... Three..."

and they started playing together, with both of them smiling, giggling when they missed a note or two. and you watched them from behind, feeling thankful that that was the scenery you got to see everyday.

[covenofthearticulate]

i had a thought: imagine louis falls asleep first because he’s the weakest and the baby and armand reads his thoughts as he dreams and then yaps to lestat right over louis’ head 😭

MWAH MWAH MWAH kissing u on the cheeks as we speak!!!! this is delicious i'm sobbing!!! since we're both going through it I wrote a lil something as a treat bc we deserve it <3

"He's dreaming of you," Armand mumbles into the nest of unkempt black hair.

From the pillow, on the other side of their sleeping lover, Lestat looks up from his phone. Like a pantomime, the expression shifts from surprised to curious to doubtful, before landing on the final fixed look of pure spite that crinkles his brow and stiffens his lip.

"He is not," Lestat frowns. "Liar."

He is always this way when he's afraid. Like a cornered wolf, snapping at any hand that might offer kindness.

And perhaps he is right to be afraid, Armand thinks, as he rests one hand over Louis' chest, feels the rise and fall of it as the mortal sleep pulls him under like the gentle lull of the ocean waves. Perhaps it is a gift, the severance between maker and fledgling. Perhaps the ugly things in Louis' head are better left unsaid.

That won't stop Armand, though.

"He's dreaming of you at the chess board with your father."

If there is any color left behind from the hunt, it immediately drains from Lestat's face. There's a sharp pain in his eyes for just a moment, one singular earth-shattering moment, before he glazes right over, and turns his attention back to his phone.

"...oh."

"You're yelling at him."

Armand doesn't know why he's digging further. He likes to dig, likes to press on Lestat's old wounds because sometimes it is the only way to see the real creature hiding behind the facade, because it makes him feel less alone, knowing there is someone else in this wide world who is every bit as broken and wretched as he is.

"Enough."

"Oh, but he loves you, even now," Armand continues to murmur, soft and low, against the crown of Louis' head. "He loves the curl of your hair, and the shape of your calves. Even the flash of your fangs as you tell your father to go to hell. He feels sorry for you."

"I said ENOUGH, Armand."

When he looks up, finally, there is a rage in Lestat's eyes. It's an old flame of anger, and yet it makes Lestat look so devastatingly young.

"Why are you telling me this?" Lestat breathes.

"Because you are the center of his universe," Armand snaps, and undercurrent is clear: ungrateful, ungrateful, ungrateful.

"I don't want to be." Something quivers in the back of Lestat's throat as he speaks. "I never wanted to hurt him, I never wanted—"

"And yet he dreams of you still."

Silence, for a moment.

And the longer Armand's words hang in the air, the more Lestat begins to recognize the jealousy seeping into each syllable.

"I want him to dream about us," Lestat finally sighs.

All Armand does is nod, close his eyes and inhale a breath as if he might pick up some lingering scent from the long dead flesh cuddled between them. And as he begins to gently exhale, Louis makes a small noise, a soft groan, and shifts ever so slightly so that his toes bump against Lestat's leg.

Lestat hates that he cannot know the cause of that noise, and for a moment he considers swallowing his pride simply to ask Armand to play conduit, to slide the blade between his ribs just once more—

But before he can speak, he feels the gentle press of Armand inside of his head, like a warm summer breeze, and once he opens the door, allows the battlements to crumble down, he can hear it like a relentless pulse:

Dream of us, dearest. Dream of us. No more sorrow. We are here, now. Dream of us.

And the world seems so warm and so small, suddenly, as Lestat allows himself to sink down into it, to be guided by Armand through the dreamscape in his lover's head. The three of them, tucked away in a venerable library deep in the heart of New York. The three of them, in the box at the opera. In the snow-covered trails of Auvergne, the moonlit streets of Paris, the ocean-kissed air of California...yes, the three of them, in all their many iterations, always finding their way home to one another over and over again.

A yawn creeps it's way up into Lestat as he shifts under the covers. He wraps his arm around Louis, rests his hand on Armand's shoulder.

And when he closes his eyes, he dreams of the three of them, too.

[whimzycle]

Hi Whimzycle! I'm a HUGE fan of your art, it makes my days brighter and I absolutely love how you draw Aster! <3 I started enjoying ROTG and the GOC saga again and I was wondering if you felt comfortable sharing your top 3 fanfics! :)

Thank you so much!

Daawwee thank you!! I appreciate it!! I used to be intimidated when it comes to drawing Bunny but lo and behold, he is the only one that I drew the most out of all the rotg cast lmao.

As for fics though...[Sweats in majority of the rotg fics I read are Jackrabbit centric]

I'll try to keep it as neutral as possible though lmao

Top 1. Prelude to Time Feelers by atimefeeler

I'm sorry I know I said I'll keep it neutral but I really can't help it. It's a really good fic, Jackrabbit notwithstanding. In my defense, the romance isn't really romancing, really they're more queer platonic that's why I like it very much. This fic is so good, genuinely. It's a reimagine of events that happen in both the book series and the movie. The fusion of both media is really well-done and it's world-building even more so! It features perspectives from Mother Nature, Bunnymund and Jack. So like, essentially, you get Mother Nature's backstory, Bunny's backstory and Jack's pov all in one chapter. It's great I love it. High tier, 10/10 fic. Though if you really aren't comfortable with the Jackrabbit part of it, it's cool. I still think you should give it a try lmao.

Top 2. My Stars and Your Valleys by ketren

This is one of the really cool ones lmao. It's a science-fiction au!!! Almost like the likes of Star Trek but it feels more like a treasure planet for me lmao (I've never seen star trek, I'm sorry I'm a degenerate lmao) One of the things that I really like about this fic is how well it incorporates elements of the movie into this fic like oh my god. Especially Jack's initial relationship with the guardians is almost like the movie and it's good, it's great I love it. Oh and the plot!! Goddamn the plot!! It's so eerie and mysterious and I love it. It keeps you interested for the entire duration of the fic, wondering what the hell is happening lmao. But oh! I most love Jack's relationship with his sister, even though it's only at the first and last chapters lmao. They're so good, I love how complex it is. It's a high tier, 10/10 fic!!! Please read it!!!!! It's so good!!!!!!!

Top 3. 188 Hugs by Icka M Chif (mischif)

Affectionate Guardians are my weakness and this fic exploits my love for it. Also, it's Jack and Bunny centric so it's a two-for two punch of things that I love. The title says it all when it comes to the plot lmao. It's essentially an exploration of Jack and Bunny's friendship through hugging lmao. It's a great fic high tier, 10/10. (Although really, any fic from this author is a 10/10) I love how it tackles the Jack is lonely for 300 years bit and the only way to dismantle that is through the power of friendship and found family. Really, the only solution to everything. And I love it, it's great, it's amazing and I feel so much joy over this fic. I really don't need to explain much lmao. This fic is just so good, I'll let it explain itself for you. So please!! Read it!!! So you can experience the immense joy I had when reading it lmao!!!!!!

Now, I know you only said my top 3, but I'm adding honorable mentions because it is a crime if I do not include any of them:

Sparks Fly by Icka M Chif (mischif)

Naughty and Nice by Icka M Chif (mischif)

Not a Guardian by Icka M Chif (mischif)

Advent, Advection by pengiesama

Selenographia, sive Lunae descriptio by pengiasama

Looming Shadows by Reidluver

Nights and Nights Again by partingxshot

When Hope Gives Way to Joy by taizi

Other Ways by Asidian

Unique by Asidian

Learning to See by emeralddawn

Mischief Managed followed by April Fools by Neyiea

Allegro Non Molto by tablrcloth

Flower Prompt: Yarrow by melissae-astron

Like a Star by Lunermoon1000

Protege by ProlixEllipsis

[luckyartdrawer]

(Bitter) Sweet! Art & Drabble

For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list! There's still plenty of time before the first prompt is due (Jan 12th), and there's 2 other prompts as well for the month! Definitely check it out lovelies! <3

Drabble name: Instability Of The Heart Contents: Sun x reader, Heavy Pinning, Bitter Sweetness Chosen Words: Clouds, Opals, Celebration, Star-crossed, Letting Go, Hope, Candle Word Count: 1,625

AO3 version now available!

Ch 2. Moon, Ch 3. Eclipse

(Close Ups are also at the bottom <3)

It’s been a whole year…

Unsure how to approach the festivities now, Sun decided to find a quiet spot instead, spending all morning setting things up to participate in his own way. He couldn't not join in, but it just wouldn't be right to go back into the thick of it either.

The not-too-far-off town square, only a mile below his expanse of cloud, is alive in the lieu of celebration. The live orchestra plays the same casual songs, their passion dying the expanse of clouds they rest upon pink with their infectious energy, and the music drifts up clear as day to his ears despite the distance. The community brightens at each strum of a chord, chatter so lively that they create lyrics to their own song. They all are so alight that even once the sun sets, not even a single candle will be necessary to keep the festival bathed in a warm glow.

Sun sighed as he looked towards his namesake, feeling both relief and dread seeing it only moved a little since he last checked, located slightly past the center of the sky above him. Any moment now the square should clear its center and engage in its Hearthwarming Dance.

A spark crackles in his chest, sending longing pangs to his heart and head. It swirls through the burning magma and dips through every ligament, the tips of his fingers and toes buzzing with the itch to do something.

He turns to his partner, waiting for the first note of the new song to swell before grabbing their soft hand and whispering,

“May I have this dance?”

Without his usual banter, Sun embraces them and sways to the familiar beat without hesitation.

Upon closing his eyes, he is suddenly not dancing on a patchy field of clouds, but rather upon a lively opal plaza shimmering in the warm sunlight; the polished stone reflecting all those lovely pink clouds to create a mosaic, speckled with a rainbow of beautiful color.

Yet, the way you shined changed everything. It had completely ruined his view of beauty.

Your smile glistened through the sheer cloud of stardust that orbits around your form. Your eyes were as hypnotic as the ring of light you absorb, blindingly white before turning into a pitch black that's impossible for him to comprehend. He could barely even remember what you wore that day, too busy memorizing your face.

You were a star that had gone supernova, a rarity unseen for the last 3 centuries, let alone for a star of your kind.

Even the thought of your imagery causes him to inhale sharply. He clutches at his partner tightly, mindless of the give as he steps around in a traditional dance.

You were so scared when the change happened all those months ago...

Sun had found you holed up in your dark room, begging him to not look at you. He had initially come over to barge down your door for being an hour late to meet him, only to find your home was unlocked. It wasn't too unusual, so he welcomed himself inside, used to doing so after years of friendship.

His bitterness over how you kept him waiting for so long evaporated at finding your tearful state, almost unrecognizable if it weren't for your usual wear and voice.

He's still ashamed to say that he was enraptured by you despite the state you were in.

You were a glimmering dwarf star before, enchanting enough as is, and yet somehow you turned into something even more bewitching, compounding his years of desire into something even stronger. It felt right. Not to see you sad, but to see you in that form. Everything about it felt like you. The pull was indescribable in every step he took, the very essence of you invading his senses.

As soon as he recounts reassuring you, drying your tears, and pulling you into a hug; he snaps back to having you in his arms in the light of day, grasping his right hand and prancing with ease across the square, expertly avoiding other participants.

The magnetic pull is intense, the need to somehow get closer and closer was nearly impossible to ignore. He wanted to run away from such a force, yet he only clutched your hand tighter as he spun you, pulling your back into his chest and locking you there for a beat too long.

He was so afraid that you could read his every move, regardless of knowing your sheer obliviousness to his desires.

You always playfully indulged his yearly insistence of being your dance partner, yet nothing had come of it from either side. But this time, his gaze was constantly locked with yours, unable to break contact. His possessive grip had ensnared you, barely leaving even an inch between you. He couldn't help but pause, disregarding the mass of bodies moving around him, wanting to hold you forever.

How could it not be obvious?

Regardless, he knew it was inevitable he'd spill out his soul to you soon, barely able to restrain his lips from colliding into yours at that very moment.

He hoped, he prayed, he begged like a mantra to the celestial mother that you'd feel the same. That this magnetism isn't so one sided. That restraint would one day be unnecessary and he'd finally be able to drink in the flavor of your kiss.

Only mere seconds had passed when he released you from his hold, continuing the dance as if nothing happened. Perhaps to you, nothing did happen.

Would that explain what had happened?

He spent that whole day with you, following you to vendors with traditional carbon foods and indulging in your proximity as you'd graze hands and bump shoulders on occasion, finally left comfortably alone as the town's people were accustomed to your new appearance by then.

He was more than happy to scoop you up the moment you said you were getting tired and overwhelmed. You insisted that you didn't want the fun to end, but he could tell by the sound of your voice that you at least needed a change of pace.

The sun was setting when he leapt up stray puffs of clouds to the field above the plaza. He pranced in circles, leaping gaps to the dying beats of music, and teasing about dropping you through them when you didn't believe he could cross. Your rivers of laughter only fueled his audacity, as he never wanted to hear them end. Inevitably, his foot barely slipped off the edge of one of his more daring jumps, causing the two of you to fall forward and collide with the cloud beneath you.

Despite the grunt the two of you made at the impact, you were quick to laugh at Sun’s failure, teasing him about his cockiness biting him in the behind.

But Sun couldn't ignore the press of his body on top of yours, the echoing melody of your voice ensnaring his throat, refusing to allow him to even draw breath, let alone words. His mind fogged over, the only reprieve to his pinning troubles all pointed towards you, and he desperately needed that relief.

Your lips were more delicious than he could have ever dreamed of, your endearing expression was wide eyed and glowing.

Glowing so much that he actually had to close his eyes for a moment to recuperate, despite how much he wanted to savor your appearance.

And then with a fluttering blink, he's back in the present, kneeling down in the same position over some sad facimally of you. The cloud he molded this morning was mangled already from his delusions, but due to his fall it had melded into the cloud below it, its pink color feeling more taunting than sweet.

Sun looked down at his hand to find a tiny piece of said cloud still in it, a tear welling up in his eye.

It was too fitting.

In that original moment, it was as if you dissolved right in his arms after that kiss, but he refuses to believe anything bad happened. He searched your home, your favorite places, and even contacted your friends and family. No one knew where you were.

Some believed you to be dead after he finally admitted what happened between the two of you.

He vehemently denied that possibility, despite the plausibility. You were barely older than he was, still spry with centuries of life ahead of you. You couldn't just die from a kiss…

The only spark of hope he was given was when he questioned one of the elder Neutron stars, one of whom recalled personally knowing a singular supernova; one who had been taken suddenly to a world beyond the sky to contain their unstable make up. They had returned only once to explain their departure, before saying goodbye for their next one shortly after.

Sun brought the small puff of cloud to his lips – it should have been your hand.

He couldn't repress the tear that escaped him.

It's been a year since your disappearance. He still hasn't given up on his star-crossed lover, if he may even call you that. Your sudden departure left him wanting, stagnant, unsure of so many things.

If you reciprocated, wouldn't you have come back to him by now..?

Overtime, many have caught onto his depressed demeanor and advised him that it's best to learn to let go.

Preaching that waiting is fruitless.

Denouncing the Neutron’s tall tale of some magical plain snatching you away.

Scolding Sun for ruining his life over some runaway star.

However, he cannot help it; you own all the hope he has left. As he is unfortunately, completely, woefully in love with you.

Close Ups!

[callsign-songbird]

Okay, but imagine going up to Simon all nervous and shy and asking to borrow his dog. You're expecting to get to walk some big fluffy thing only to end up on your knees getting railed by an over-excited Johnny while Simon stands back holding the leash, occasionally tugging sharply and telling Johnny to heel. So the poor guy has to sit there with his leaky cock painfully hard inside your plush walls, whining and begging Simon to let him move, saying how you're practically begging for it, taking him so nicely and squeezing him just right. But Simon makes the mutt wait until his orgasm falls away from the brink, saying that Johnny needs to make you cum once on his cock before he's allowed to finish, then he'll have to clean up his mess. Because that's how a good mutt treats such a nice lady.

[misc-obeyme]

You were the one who should have been scared, but the fear you see in Satan's eyes is deeper and more shattering than anything you could have felt in that moment. You want to kiss him, to ease that terror you see behind his anger. The shivering horror that struck through the rage when it came too close to you.

Whenever Satan is out of control, that fear lights up his eyes when he looks at you. You've seen it almost every time, the only one to inspire it in him. You know what it means. He's scared of himself. He's scared of hurting you.

And yet, you are not afraid. You never have been and you never will be. You know that he needs your touch, to hear your voice calling him back to himself. You know that when he's lost in the hurricane of his wrath, you are the one thing that can ground him again, keep him from leaving more destruction in his wake.

So you say his name. You tell him you love him. You watch that fear and anger drain away, the demon form retreat. And you catch him when he stumbles into your arms.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[knuckleheadsandtails]

Maddie and Tom never thought they would be parents:

Tom and Maddie realised one day they were in their 30’s- finally settled into their house that they had saved so long for, school debts paid, jobs secured and now it felt like time. Maddie sat down with her husband, a small line of pregnancy tests on the table and a nervous smile on her face. When Maddie's phone chimed she carefully turned over the first test, then the next and the next. 

Tom said they would keep trying. And they did. But after some time the excitement faded and a calm settled over the house, their parents stopped asking and Maddie stopped buying tests every other month. 

Maddie thought it would be devastating, she knew they both would love a little Wachowski running around the house but it hurt more to keep their hopes high. If it was going to happen then it would happen when it wants to. Maddie dedicated herself to be a great aunt, spoiling her nieces and nephews. Tom put his all into the community and grew their family that way. And it felt like it was enough for now. 

Then sonic came along

It took a while to figure out the new normal, a new person in their space that was there to stay. A little boy who was also so very strong and brave but cried at the end of Toy story and drank warm milk before bed. Tom learnt what Sonic needed in a father figure, someone to confined in but was able to play a fool to help distract him from bad days. Maddie bought different brushes and combs until she found the exact right one for his fur and quills so they could sit cuddled up on the sofa watching trashy tv. They were not his mom and dad, not right away- that would take time and they knew that but he was their kid. Their little boy.