#still not over so much (for) stardust

[lifealteringtimesandwich]

dallon i just preordered the album that's how much faith i have in you. it has to be good now i trust you to much

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

No no no no listen to me. Listen to me.

The universe is huge and vast and ancient to us but so so young. We don't matter in the grand scheme of things, we'll hardly be as much as a blink within the universe, but we are here. We are here and we look up to the sky and see our neighbouring stars.

We are here and we know there's other planets out there, and we know there's our own galaxy, our galaxy that we are a part of. There's our galaxy super cluster that we are a part of. It's our local super cluster.

We are here and we managed to visualise the matter tying the universe together! We're here and we understand the life cycles of stars! We are here and we are matter and we are the force between atoms and we are literally from the same matter as stars! We are tiny and insignificant and yet we are made of energy and stardust and life!

We cannot influence the universe at large, but we are blessed to live in a time that we may observe it and marvel at its beauty! We do not need to fulfil a purpose or influence anything! Do stars need a purpose to be beautiful and make this life a wonderful experience? Aren't we stardust? Aren't we love and life and the universe itself?

We are a tiny part of the universe, but we're here! We're here! And the universe is beautiful!

[cynical-crypt]

[thatgamingkid45]

nah it’s not a big deal I couldn’t go wym

[imeverycliche]

Sorry I'm making another post about Wrigley and how unaware and content I was before the 8 ball and G.I.N.A.S.F.S and I haven't known peace since.

[acheittilyoumakeit]

Hello I still haven't posted anything but I'm here to say Fake Out is about me bye

[tangirlisfangirl]

If SMFS Songs were on Other FOB Albums

BECAUSE I DID THIS WHEN MANIA CAME OUT 5 YEARS AGO (holy shit??) AND WE LOVE A THROWBACK >:D

minus the interludes because i would just sort them all into folie à deux

Love From the Other Side — American Beauty/American Psycho

Heartbreak Feels So Good — Mania

Hold Me Like a Grudge — American Beauty/American Psycho

Fake Out — From Under the Cork Tree

Heaven, Iowa — Mania

So Good Right Now — Folie À Deux

I Am My Own Muse — Infinity on High

Flu Game — Folie À Deux

The Kintsugi Kid — Take This to Your Grave

What a Time to Be Alive — Save Rock and Roll

So Much (For) Stardust — Infinity on High

[astrxealis]

rip

[toestalucia]

guhhh i rly enjoyed the lil event story....T_T grans casual speaking....theresa speaking about justice smiling and gran being curious & wanting to see that......allowing her to go on more difficult missions & immediadetly giving her info please ZERO wait. theresa being able to use her skills n learning more through her meetings with the crew.............justice.........mother....................collapses....the entire tea party...T_T uuuuuu captain.................

[allaglow]

Somewhere along the line, Cinderella had to learn to accept people and life as it was. That doesn’t mean she didn’t or wouldn’t take action to better it when she could. But, more so, if someone doesn’t want to change or continually shows her who they are, she can’t keep getting disappointed. Certain relationships and situations are limited and sometimes, the key to peace is accepting things as they are and only focusing on what you can change and better.

[flovverworks]

anyway i read cains latest ssr card yday. cain mahoyaku knightley u r the end of me. 'please look after him. he might look happy n goofy but he carries a lot' (akira thinking of the part in cains story when he went to pay respect to the sages wizards who turned to stone). 'i will become a friend cain can rely on and trust' 'u alrdy are that friend akira'. head in hands

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!

Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe

Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈

Have a great day!!!

Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦

Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.

It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’

Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’

‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.

So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.

After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’

So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.

‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.

He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.

You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’

‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.

[lilpy]

🌟 Lucidrien 🌟

Reverse Crowley or angel Crowley. I made my first version of Lucidrien in 2019 and I still love him SO much so I wanted to give his reference sheet a little update. His counterpart Forneus is still in the works 💕

My Patreon | Shop

Have some backstory:

Before he got his new job as "field agent" on earth, Lucidrien was a formless but vaguely long, wobbly entity of light and sparkly stardust, spreading himself out in space to do his job as the protector of dreams, watching over every being in the universe and making sure to keep the balance between good dreams and nightmares intact. He never really heard of any war or rebellion in Heaven, the other angels had sort of forgotten about him anyway. He was feeling best when nobody bothered him. When one day Gabriel popped up and stuffed him into a tiny human corporation and pushed him towards the edge of Heaven, Lucidrien wasn't sure whether he was tangled up in some angel's dream or if he was experiencing Reality for the first time in a long time. When he is looking back nowadays, he remembers that Gabriel told him that they were short-staffed in Eden and needed Lucidrien to back up the guardians of the Wall because somewhere inside of Eden, there was a massive demon spreading Evil. Lucidrien hadn't fully managed to put his conscious thoughts in order yet to know what demons were and especially not how to use a corporation with wings(he had never gone through training in the first place) so when Gabriel gave him one last push on the back, he started falling and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He fully lost consciousness before he hit the ground(water, actually, but he'd never know) and the first thing he saw when he woke up, were two big blue eyes and a dark wing shielding him from the sunlight. ⭐️

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 2

I had a blast writing part 1, so here's some more headcanons of reader progressing through their pregnancy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut

- He doesn't have a pregnancy kink per say, but... seeing you pregnant with his child does things to him that he can't even begin to put into words. He's always found you beyond gorgeous, of course, it's just that now it borders on literal worship. Said worship will be expressed quite physically on a daily basis; he'll slide his hands over your middle, leave trails of kisses up and down your body, and catch himself staring multiple times even before the two of you get out of bed each morning. He can't even really believe that you've somehow managed to get more beautiful, but he'll consistently try to describe the depths of his devotion in song, gifts, and countless hours spent adoring your presence.

- He'll want to start preparing for all baby related events as soon as possible, in part because the arrival of another heir is going to be quite the occasion, but he also just wants everything to go perfectly. The official announcement will come with multiple days of celebration across Hell, including a massive party in the castle itself, and each event that follows will somehow manage to top the last. You'll get enough gifts to fill up multiple rooms, and so many cards with well wishes you could fill up an entire library, but Lucifer expects nothing less. Every ounce of his considerable power is dedicated to making sure you get the best of everything. This dedication also applies to the little things the two of you do together, like decorating the baby's room. He'll insist on hand crafting the furniture, the toys, and every decoration with you directing at his side, and he'll use the most magical materials at his disposal. Hand painting the walls with stardust is not out of the question.

- Things have changed a lot since Charlie was born, and he was previously unaware of the many technological advancements now available for expecting couples, specifically ultrasounds. He's amazed and wants to attend every appointment even more at the prospect of actually seeing your child before they're born. Of course, upon beholding the lopsided blob on the screen for your first check up, he's far more overwhelmed than he could have ever imagined. He can see little hooves and everything! The doctor doesn't quite know what to make of the King near to weeping at the sight of a being no larger than a peanut, but you take it all in stride. Once he finds out that pictures can be taken of the scans, he requests as many as he can carry, and his pockets are bursting with photos of Charlie and her not-yet-born sibling. He'll show them to everyone that does and doesn't ask.

- While he can be overly protective and his efforts to provide for you are more akin to spoiling, he's not at all without cause in doing so; carrying a child of Lucifer is no easy task. As your body becomes the epicenter for a developing power beyond imagination, you'll need him by your side with increasing frequency, especially once the baby's uncontrolled magic starts surging and affecting your reality. You'll be unharmed, but it's still quite nice to have Archangel level powers around to get things back to normal once you start inexplicably walking up the walls, speaking in dead languages or levitating random items with a glance. He takes it all in stride with humorous stories about how Charlie did the same before her arrival, though your cravings for increasingly esoteric rare foods do have him apologizing for the inconveniences of angelic biology, as even he needs a few days to acquire the rarer items your body demands.

- As delighted as he is to have another child, he can't help but be haunted by doubts of all he's done wrong as a father so far. No matter how much of it was out of his control, he fears everything that went wrong will happen again, and that he might just be gaining a second child to fail. It's only through your loving reassurance that he retains some faith in himself, and dares to believe he'll be a halfway decent dad to two children.

[euphoricfilter]

(cw: mentioned smut: unprotected sex, creampie, and a stupid amount of fluff)

fluffy fic idea with obsessed gf m/c and equally as obsessed boyfriend jungkook. he’s the light of her life, and she’s the reason he smiles

maybe she has a habit of bringing home stray cats, and as much as jungkook is a dog person, he indulges her. maybe eventually looking for a bigger apartment for the two of them and their new little family that is ever growing. finding the routine of feeding them cathartic in a sense, maybe achieved in giving all the poor little babies a home

maybe she sends him photos all the time of things that she thinks he’d like, or things that remind her of him. maybe the sunset, or two swans swimming in a lake, because she believes that in their next lives they’ll be lovers there too. and for every life after that, the two of them will always be together no matter what they are.

perhaps two budding flowers that bloom and intertwine, leaves brushing against one another in silent hello. or maybe they’re the stray cats that find refuge in a box, just the two of them navigating the wide world with no one else but one another

maybe they’re stars that sit beside one another for centuries before they collide and become pretty stardust, reborn as something else entirely wonderful on the planet again.

he’d buy them promise rings, wearing it on a chain around his neck. ever one to flaunt his girlfriend whenever having the chance. maybe keeping her picture in his wallet. a hair tie on his wrist for if she ever needed it

maybe he likes mornings where he can make her breakfast in bed, where the sun caresses warm skin through the open curtains and she makes sure to feed him too before they get ready for the day

maybe he likes the way she likes to hold hands in public, gentle affection, gentle reassurance that he was still with her, always by her side for as long as she’d allow him (which is forever of course)

he’d love to fuck her in missionary, lovingly slow and sweet. always so gentle like her skin were fragile. soft lips pressed over tender skin, silent love shiny through the lust as he gently ruts into her. hands slipping anywhere and everywhere, some wild sort of gratification coming out of being so close to one another

pretty as he fucks her in his shirt, lifting it over her stomach as he presses down where he thinks his cock is. always entirely enamored by how his cum slips past her folds, pussy soiled and claimed by him. always and only for him

and maybe once they’ve grown old, life slipping from both of them. they really are reborn as cats, exploring the world together once again. over and over for every life after that, fate entirely intertwined because it will forever only be the two of them for one another. the purest form of ever lasting love

[talesofesther]

when the world sleeps | the stitches

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Small tales of private and precious moments shared with Astarion, when the world still sleeps.

Today's tale: You're trying to stitch back together your shirt, Astarion must intervene to save the day.

A/N: A collection of little stories that will be released sporadically, in no particular order. A place for me to store all the sweet little ideas that lurk in my mind about this darling pale elf. Feel free to send requests for any moments you'd like to see. <3

Masterlist

It was an accident. A split second of distraction that got the blade of your enemy slashing into you. It cut through more cloth than skin, you didn't even need a healing potion. But it was your favorite shirt.

You've never been very adept with the needle and thread. Having lived your whole life with the privileges that rested inside your family's estate back in the city, you didn't have much need to mend your own clothes back together whenever they tore apart.

And now you were paying the price for the unlearned skill.

The night was quiet, most of your companions had already retired for the night. Yet you sat crosslegged on a large pillow in your tent, soft candlelight illuminating just enough so you wouldn't prick your fingers.

Scratch insisted on laying beside you, his soft white fur warm as it rested against your leg.

The silence of the night was most welcome, when the days were as hectic as they have been lately.

As you passed the thread through the fabric of your shirt, needle piercing it quite clumsily, you couldn't help but think the stitches looked too far from each other. Or could it be too close? Should it vary depending on the thickness of the fabric?

"Darling?"

You jumped at the sudden voice—soft as it may have been—yanking the needle back and not piercing your thumb only by an inch. You cursed under your breath.

"What in the hells are you doing?" Astarion's choice of words sounded strange in the tender tone of voice he used.

You looked up to see him staring down at you with a confused frown on his eyebrows. The flickering fire of the candles coming from beside you kissed his features ever so faintly, making him seem like the remains of a dream. Dark red eyes, silver hair that reminded you of stardust. What a goner you were. And to think he chose you, too; if anything to warm his bed on cold nights.

"I'm… mending my shirt," you shrugged, with a sheepish smile on your lips, briefly lifting the shirt and needle in your hands.

Astarion opened his mouth only to close it again. He blinked, and shook his head. "You're doing anything but that." He stated, a little exasperated. "Have you ever done this before?"

You shifted your gaze from him, to the shirt on your hands, and back to him. "… Not really, no."

Astarion scoffed, "Well, clearly not."

"Come on it's not that bad." You raised a brow, finding his indignation at your lack of skills rather amusing.

"Not that bad? That thing is gonna tear itself apart with the first movement of your arms." Astarion gestured wildly as if you'd personally offended him, and started walking to the other side of you that wasn't occupied by Scratch. "Move over," he simply said.

You shuffled to the side a little, giving him space on the fluffy pillow beneath you. It was a tight fit as he sat down, his thigh flush with yours.

"Hand it over." Astarion wiggled his fingers and you did so quietly, handing him your shirt along with the needle and thread.

He mumbled something about basic skills and how you'd be lost without him. You didn't pay much mind to it, instead, you were rather enraptured by the way his fingers worked; precise, gentle, and deftly, with not a single wrong movement as the fabric of your shirt molded between the digits. He sews the pieces together from the inside, the needle hardly piercing, more like caressing its way through. It was evident he had done it many, many times before.

You inched closer, and you only realized you had done so when Astarion's movements halted. Needle hovering in the air as his shoulders tensed. His lips pursed when his throat worked through a gulp. You followed the motion, breath fanning over the skin of his neck, you were almost certain you'd seen goosebumps there.

It was a beat, and then Astarion was back to his work. But it was enough to bloom a warmth to your chest, that maybe you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you asked; "where did you learn to do it so perfectly?"

A quiet chuckle fell past the elf's lips, though it held no amusement. "The clothes we wore were hardly a concern for Cazador, as long as we looked presentable enough to lure people back for him." He frowned, a bitterness flashing through his eyes as his knuckles grew even paler with the way he gripped your shirt, "If we showed up with a torn shirt or ragged pants, that was on us. Even if it were his orders that caused it." The last words were low and forced out, as if the mere thought of them had thrown Astarion back into those dark streets and into the arms of people who didn't care if they ripped him apart.

You wished there was any amount of comfort or honeyed words that you could tell him that would erase the memories altogether. But there wasn't. All you could do was kiss his shoulder and brush your fingers over his arm until his grip relaxed again. Hoping that your love would seep through your pores and melt into his skin.

Astarion leaned the tiniest bit towards you, his lips brushing your hairline in a silent thank you. It felt… strange, how you were able to bring him back from the depths of his mind so easily.

Moments were spent in silence, until the pad of his thumb brushed over the freshly mended corner of your shirt, admiring his work; it was barely perceptive. If you didn't look too closely, you wouldn't even say it had been slashed through with a sword at all.

"Wow, you're good," you whispered, following the same path he had traced with your own fingers. Feeling over the fabric.

A low hum came from the vampire beside you, "I know."

You bit onto your lower lip. Your fingers tangled with his when he didn't pull away, all timid and tentative yet brimming with affection. "Maybe you could teach me someday, and I could mend your clothes for you, too." It went beyond just torn fabric, he knew it, you knew it.

Astarion ducked his head, he hesitated, yet he squeezed your hand quite tightly. "I would like that."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us