#i.. ughh

[goffredos]

[krussyarts]

So that act 2 huh

(original doodle + smth extra under cut)

The gang! "Huh", "wake me up inside by evanescence", "do yuo hav gamez on ur phobne" and "i brought a gun to the rave" anywayy i drew them together

[wintermav]

Wolverine being a confirmed boy kisser by Hugh Jackman.

[smatterbrained]

That’s the problem with enemies-to-lovers, sometimes the nightmares are about you

[iknowitwontwork]

this gojo fanart changed the way i look at life

[lazylittledragon]

y'know every time i feel guilty about bothering someone by singing along when i'm listening to music, i just remember that i have to tolerate my dirtbag brother screaming at his ps5 for hours every day so listening to muffled off-key fall out boy is probably preferable

[lilacgaby]

omg one of those being obsessed with his wife for 10 minutes videos but it's prohero!bakugo

the interview starts and he looks bored as hell. his pr manager sent him on this because he fell down in the ranks again because of his gruff image but he can't help it! why get in someone's way if you aren't prepared to get cussed out??

that is, until they bring up his love life. more specifically, you.

his scrunched up face of annoyance vanished immediately, replaced instead by a soft smile and longing gaze.

he talks about you for the bulk of the interview from that point on, even in questions that don't revolve around you in the slightest.

"your fans want to know, what's your favorite food?"

"well, i really like spicy food. ah, you know [name] brought me to this good spot for our first date as first-years, 'been goin' there ever since."

"favorite color changed?"

"nah, but [name] does look really good in red.."

when that interview blows up, interviewers and his team see a goldmine, suddenly you're involved in every question you can be, the fans love seeing his reaction to being told things about you, talking about you, and just anything revolving around you. not like he minds, you're usually on his mind 24/7 anyways.

and when you end up pregnant forget it, now the fans are asking to see you, asking for an interview with the person responsible for boosting prohero!katsuki up the rankings so consistently.

the first interview with you two together trends for weeks, his longing gaze on you as you talk, his fond smile as you express your opinions, the way he looks content when he makes you laugh.

ughh prohero!bakugo who's obsessed with his wife </3

(follow-up)

[kyuubi-zzz]

[st4rr11]

The eternalholly brainworms are eating at me

[morganbritton132]

AU where Eddie cracks his head off the ground and temporarily gets mind reading powers. He goes to school the next day thinking that this might actually be fun, and it is for a while.

And then he hears bloodcurdling screaming - except only he hears it so, “That’s in someone’s head?”

He follows the sound out down the hall, pass his own classroom. The screaming getting louder and louder until, “Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve blinks back into reality in the back of his history class. The screaming dims but doesn’t go away. Steve’s still got those bruises on his face but otherwise doesn’t look distressed, “…You want something, Munson?”

“Um…um, no,” He says. “I - no. Nothing.”

Steve narrows his eyes and a whisper of a voice just under the screaming thinks Eddie is fucking with him.

Eddie barely acknowledges it because he’s stuck on how Steve looks normal. Not anguished. Not tortured. But normal. Bored.

“Well, uh. Well, I’ll see you around, Harrington.”

And Eddie means that too.

[moopsoup]

unpopular opinion but sylus is sensitive to your touch. especially when you jerk him off.

“fuck—slow down” sylus hisses through gritted teeth, his head tipping back against the couch, jaw clenched so tight it could snap. his thighs tense beneath your palm. every muscle in his body strung tight, twitching with every slow, teasing stroke of your hand around his cock.

“thought you could handle it” you hum, dragging your thumb over his slit and smearing the slick bead of precum that’s gathered there. his hips jerk up, body completely betraying him, breath catching in his throat. you grin smugly, watching him unravel right in your hands. “guess i was wrong?”

sylus groans, throwing an arm over his face, his other hand gripping the edge of the couch like he needs something to ground him. you squeeze just a little tighter. stroking him just a little slower, watching his abs tense, watching his mouth part, his body trembling under your touch.

“you seem to be enjoying teasing me like this—” his voice cuts off when you twist your wrist on the upstroke, so mean, so precise, making him shudder. his cock is throbbing in your hand, leaking and twitching. he both hates and loves how easily you can do this to him, how easily you can pull these sounds from him.

“but you like it” you tease, your lips ghosting over his ear while your strokes get lazier. making him need more, making him chase it. “so sensitive, sylus”

his hand snaps to your wrist, like he wants to stop you but you know he doesn’t. he’s panting now, hips rolling up into your hand, chasing the friction. “watch it, kitten” he grits out, but it holds no weight when he’s trembling under you, so fucking sensitive he can’t think straight, his cock pulsing in your grip.

[chellustrates]

delta-dump

it's mostly noelle and berdly though lol

[haido]

Destiny Islands 🌴⭐

(project time: 7 weeks)

[pininghermit]

Duchess' Consort

Request: Loving your Tropovenia stories ❤️ I got, 'Against Parents'. Would you please write something about Adrian and modern reader with that prompt? 🥺

AN: Hello anon, I am glad you're enjoying my silly little event! I loved writing this and would have loved to add more bg but this event is for short stories so I tried my best. I hope you like it :)

Genre: drama & royalty au ish??

Pairing(s): Alucard x female Reader

Summary: “You will have to be my consort. You will not be given the title of duke. I will be the duchess. Our children will bear my family name. Yours will be forgotten. They will never quite treat you well. Your heritage will be scorned. Your lands will be absorbed by the duchy.”

“He’s a vampire!” your father roars, his face flushing red. It’s a familiar sight, one that mirrors your own anger. Apparently, temper ran strong in the family.

“And he’s a dhampir!” you snap back, marching toward him with equal fury.

The latest argument about your relationship had now passed the two-hour mark. You were both too stubborn to yield, two sides of the same damn coin. Exhaustion tugged at your shoulders, but neither of you would back down. Not yet.

With a huff of defeat, your father finally lowers himself into his chair, rubbing his temples. “You can’t just marry the son of Dracula,” he says, his voice weary but still carrying an edge of authority. “He’s no match for you.”

“We’re in love!” You slam a glass of water back, trying to swallow both the drink and your frustration. “And it’s not like I’m abandoning my duties. I’m still here. I’m still doing everything I’m supposed to. Isn’t that enough?”

Your father shakes his head slowly. “And what?” he retorts, his tone bitter. “Sully our bloodline with a half-vampire? You’d ruin everything. Do not make me regret not seeking another heir when I had the chance. Perhaps I should have remarried, like everyone insisted...”

The words hit you like a slap, sharp and stinging. They lodge deep in your gut, twisting until your vision blurs with tears you refuse to let fall. You grit your teeth, clenching the glass in your hand so tightly you fear it might shatter.

“Worry not, Father,” you bite out through clenched teeth, your voice trembling with controlled rage. “I’ll be sure to have plenty of children with Adrian. Enough that I never have to suffer the same regrets you do!”

The room falls silent, your words hanging heavy in the air.

Your father glares up at you, his eyes hard but not without pain. He didn’t mean it, you know he didn’t. He loves you. He’s just afraid, trapped by his grief and his fears. You are all he has left of your mother, and her betrayal has carved a gaping void between the two of you. Making a weak man out of your father. One afraid of any and all gentleness.

“I will not give up on him,” you say quietly but firmly. “The duchy can deal with it. And if you can’t, Father…”

You take a deep breath, standing tall despite the tremor in your voice.

“Then I’m sure Uncle will be more than happy to step up as your heir.”

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of his brother, and you see the flash of panic before he quickly masks it with a glare. He doesn’t want to lose you, but he’s too proud to admit it. The two of you stare each other down, both unwilling to break first.

The silence between you is deafening.

Finally, your father sighs, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of years has finally caught up to him. "You’re just like your mother," he mutters under his breath.

“Thank you,” you reply curtly, turning on your heel. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You turn to leave the room before he can see the tears threatening to fall.

Once, being compared to your mother had cut deep. A wound to your pride, an insult whispered in the shadows of your childhood. The woman who abandoned her title, her duty, for the fleeting fantasy of love. The scandal had clung to you like a curse. A  constant reminder of your supposed weakness.

But not anymore.

“There are conditions.”

Your father’s voice cuts through your thoughts, halting you mid-step. His tone is cold, measured, calculated like a final move in a losing game.

“For him to be with you, there are rules he must obey.”

You turn back to face him, your heart tightening. His gaze is hard, filled with the last fragments of control he refuses to relinquish. This is his last attempt to bind you to his authority, to play his final pawn.

And yet, you stand straighter. You are not the child he once manipulated with fear and duty. Whatever terms he lays out, you will not falter.

“I’m listening,” you say evenly, crossing your arms as you meet his stare. You will not cower. Not for him, not for anyone.

“You will have to be my consort. You will not be given the title of duke. I will be the duchess. Our children will bear my family name. Yours will be forgotten. They will never quite treat you well. Your heritage will be scorned. Your lands will be absorbed by the duchy.”

Your voice remains steady, though each word feels like a blade against your heart. You stand with your back to him, your eyes fixed on the blooming garden outside the window.

“It is a terrible fate,” you continue quietly. “And I have nothing to give you. But I promise, should you take this foolish gamble, I will always be on your side. We will be equals beyond titles. Our children will grow up listening to your stories, to the tales of your people. Your lands will be cared for and passed on to our second-born, who shall inherit them.”

You pause, your thoughts momentarily drifting to a dream you dare not linger on too long. It’s easy, too easy, to imagine this future with Adrian. Despite your father’s endless demands, the vision takes root deep within you.

You can see it clearly: traveling to Castle Dracula with your children. Spending Yule together in the estates of your duchy. The dream feels achingly familiar, a warmth you are afraid to grasp.

Still, you steel your resolve, pushing the dream aside as you turn to face him.

“I cannot abandon my duties,” you say, the words final yet heavy with sorrow. “But you can leave. This life... it doesn’t have to be a fate you endure, Adrian.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. It stretches out like a chasm, each second a reminder of how deeply you’ve laid bare your vulnerability. You resist the urge to take the words back, to deny him the choice, to ease his decision with false comforts.

But no. A marriage built on lies and half-truths could not survive a harsh winter, let alone the storms your future would bring. He deserves the truth, as bitter as it is. You were prepared to lose him.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

You had rehearsed this moment countless times, steeling your heart for the inevitable. You imagined his hesitation, the disappointment clouding his eyes, and perhaps even a polite, resigned farewell. You had told yourself that you would understand. You had promised yourself you would let him go if that was his choice.

But now, as the silence stretches and your heart pounds louder than reason, you realize you were lying to yourself. You weren’t prepared. You never could be. The very thought of Adrian turning away feels like a blade pressing deep into your ribs, and you hold your breath, bracing for the worst.

Then he speaks, his voice so soft you almost miss it.

“My mother’s maiden name,” he says, his gaze fixed on the steaming cup of tea in his hands. He does not look at you, as though he needs the space to steady himself. “I want one of our children to carry it as their middle name.”

You blink, stunned into silence. Before you can respond, he continues.

“I do not care for titles,” he says, his voice firmer now, each word deliberate. “All I ask is that you do not take other partners. And that you allow me time... time to learn the ways of the household. I would hate to be anything less than worthy of you.”

He sets the teacup down with a quiet clink and steps toward you. His presence is steady as he takes your hands gently in his.

At last, Adrian lifts his gaze, and you see the depth of his conviction shining in his eyes. “I have no doubt that you will not let me be wronged,” he says softly. “My fate with yours will be one of happiness. And I would be the most foolish dhampir to ever walk this earth if I gave that up for anything else.”

A sharp breath escapes you, half-relief, half disbelief. His words fill the hollow ache that had settled in your chest, and for a moment, the dream you’d been holding at bay no longer feels so distant.

“Adrian...” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly.

“I have made my choice,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your knuckles. “And I will make it every day, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Tears blur your vision, but this time, you don’t try to hide them. Instead, you squeeze his hands tightly and offer him a smile that holds all the love and gratitude you cannot yet put into words.

One thing you know for certain: with Adrian by your side, you’ll be better parents than either of you ever had. With him, the weight of your duties will feel lighter. Together, you will make something beautiful out of all the broken pieces you were given.

“You are a miraculous idiot,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you throw your arms around him. You cling to him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Adrian lets out a warm chuckle, his chest vibrating gently against yours. “Marry me, maybe?” he teases softly, his arms pulling you even closer, as if he never intends to let go.

You laugh through your tears, swatting at his shoulder. “I suppose that can be arranged.”

[napping-sapphic]

Sure you could fall in love with me but would you put up glow in the dark stars all over our bedroom walls with me? Would you paint our mailbox fun colors with me? Would you make pancakes in silly shapes and buy knickknacks we’ll never use and pick up hobbies we won’t stick to with me? Would you live and be silly and be a little dumb and be a genius and be confident and lazy and kind and angry and everything? Would you give me absolutely every side of yourself that you can??

[choccy-milky]

...nowhere is off limits for seb 🥴 (scene from the office bc ive been rewatching clips lately and when i saw this one i HAD to redraw it as them LMAO)