#. ➹ › prompts ‚ reply.

[bisexualgoth]

all workers' strikes are good. yes even if they're inconvenient. even if they're making your life harder. even if you don't get to watch your favourite tv show. workers fighting for their rights is ALWAYS a good thing

[stealingyourbones]

I desperately need more mentor uncle figures and mentor brother figures in DPxDC to fill the interesting relationship dynamic gap that father figures stories can't always fill are u picking up what I'm putting down. Hell, just a regular friendship relationship with absolutely 0 familial dynamic.

[mrmrsman]

The bats have so many folks around, even if they aren't always working together. Enough that folks like to joke/write about Danny just kinda showing up acting like he already lives there. He just kinda blends in.

I'd love to see more magic motivated versions of this. Some kind of spell that affects the bat's perceptions of the past and present, making them actually miss that this boy wasn't with their family too long ago. Maybe it changes their understanding like it's a time line shift, maybe it fogs their mind just a tad and makes them glaze past something like it wasn't even there. I like the second if only because I feel like that would make it more likely for the bats to realize a spell was a foot.

Imagining this from Danny's side, hes terrified this whole time of getting found out. He knows how and when he showed up here and maybe even how flimsy whatever magic is in place is. Imagining a Desiree wish that was either very carefully worded or Not so carefully worded. Maybe he placed himself with the Wayne family with the expectation that he would quietly mooch of some rich idiot until he was ready to be on his own. Or maybe he wished himself to be a part of the batclan, taking up a mask and patroling with them as a bird that Doesn't Exist.

Ofc eventually the spell has to be broken, leaving the bats confused worried scared angry probably even amused, and a billion other things. WHY did this teenager decide to adopt himself into the Wayne/bat family? Who the hell is he and where did he come from. Someone call Zatanna, there is some magic Fuckery going on.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

#27 with art if you feel so inclined! :) 🖤 please and thank you!

Sure thing!

Prompt: Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Warnings: Established relationship, divorced Art Donaldson, smooches

"Did you eat already? I'm so fricking hungry," You grumble, leaving your suitcase by the door and striding toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, I ate."

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

"Are you sure?" You glance back at him from the kitchen. "Ken said you mentioned that it was stiff."

Art doesn't answer for a moment, eyes sweeping across your face. You watch him glance even lower before he shakes his head a little.

"It loosened up."

"If you're sure," You turn back to the sink, cranking on the faucet to wash your hands. "Don't push it if you don't have to."

"I won't."

"How did Lily's uh—Career day go?"

"It went fine. C'mere."

"Her teacher was so excited you could make it, I mean, so happy." You shut the sink off, plucking up the dishtowel to dry your hands before turning to the fridge. "Like, jazzed. I know no one uses that word anymore, but she was jazzed. Did you eat already?"

"I told you I did. C'mere."

"She's always been the coolest kid in the third grade in my opinion, but now it's official. Like—Peer official. Like, blue tick, you know?" You eye the contents of the fridge. "Are you hungry?"

"I just said I ate."

"No, right—Sorry. My mind's like," You shake your head. "I'm trying to slow down and catch up at the same time."

"Baby."

"I'm all jet-lagged and just jacked up. Fucking hate conferences."

"Baby."

"Yeah?"

"Look at me."

You turn your head from the fridge, raising your brows at the sight of Art's small, amused smile.

"...What?"

"Come here," He laughs, holding his hand out. You close the fridge, rounding the counter slowly and eyeing Art with suspicion.

"What's that look for?" You ask.

"I'm not giving you any kind of look."

"Yes you are."

"I am not."

"I know that face, mister."

He chuckles, taking hold of your hand once you're close enough, tugging you down. You lower yourself over him, straddling his thighs and settling in as his arms curl around your waist. He leans up, sucking a gentle kiss to your neck. You bite your lip, shifting slightly as his hands curl in the fabric of your shirt.

"...Are we picking Lily up from practice tomorrow?" You ask as your mind races.

"Tashi's got her," Art mumbles, the hum of it vibrating against your skin.

"Okay, good. I mean—Not good like—I've got some errands to run and I have to wash my clothes from the trip. I don't wanna mess up her schedule."

Art groans, tipping his head back and leaning away. You frown, pouting.

"What's wrong?"

Art lets his head loll to look up at you, a pout forming on his lips.

"You've been at a hundred since you walked through the door."

"I've got things on my mind."

"I can tell."

"Alright—" You groan, beginning to lean away, but Art's arms tighten around you, leaning up and pressing his chest against yours.

"I missed you," He murmurs. You wilt a little, raising your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I missed you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Because I'm feeling very neglected."

Art grins as you break into a laugh, leaning up and brushing a kiss along the underside of your jaw.

"You poor thing," You coo, turning your head. He catches your lips with his, sliding a hand up to your nape to guide your kisses as you sink down against him.

"...Art?" You mumble against his lips.

"Mm."

"I...Missed this...And you..."

"Mhm."

"But I am starving."

"Pizza'll be here in ten."

You grin, leaning back to look at him.

"You didn't."

"Course I did." His hand slides around your neck, knuckles brushing against your jaw.

"You're gonna spoil me rotten, Donaldson."

"Or die trying."

[thesandsofelsweyr]

Could you write fic based off of this img

《 ALSO ON AO3 》

Comments & kudos on ao3 are much appreciated, as are reblogs here on Tumblr! ❤️

The red hot branding iron was inches away from his other cheek when he woke with a choked gasp. His ragged breath was running away from him while his heart pounded like fists against his ribcage. His wide, pale blue eyes blinked frantically, adjusting to the darkness, trying desperately to latch onto something—anything—that didn’t belong in his dank, dark prison cell. A bed, he told himself. His chest rose and fell as if he was running a marathon. He swallowed hard. I’m in a bed. The only bed he’d known in Arkham was the cold, hard, filthy wood floor of his cage. But he could still feel the intense heat radiating off the cruel metal onto his tender, unbranded cheek; the Clown’s maniacal cackle still echoed in his ear. He clawed at his pillow, pulling it over his head as if he could hide from his master, as if he could drown out the grating laugh that would haunt him even after he was rotting away in his grave.

“He’s dead,” he panted as his body shook like a leaf in a hurricane, “he’s dead, he’s dead, I’m free,” he repeated, but icy terror still clutched at his throat as his mind refused to believe the words. The walls of the dark room seemed to close around him, swallowing him back down into the bowels of Arkham Asylum, where his master was waiting to punish him again. He choked back a scream. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, which he screwed shut. “Not again,” he whimpered helplessly. “Please don’t do it again.”

His muscles were as taut as a grappling cable. Cold sweat drenched his entire body. He pulled shuddering knees to his chest, curling into the fetal position, as if he could protect himself from the crowbar in the Clown's lavender-gloved hands. 

A pair of ungloved hands slid beneath the crooks of his arms, and he squealed in terrifying despair.

“Shh,” a voice whispered, as soft as satin, as gentle as a breeze. Then the warmth of an embrace enveloped him, dragging him out of hell.

“I-I’m sorry…” he stammered, sniffling. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks, which flamed red with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you…”

She squeezed him even tighter, curling herself around him, wrapping him up in a cocoon of protection. Her heart beat steadily against his mutilated back, and he grounded himself with the comforting sensation; the reminder that he was needed, that he was loved. 

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re safe. I’m here…” She placed a tender kiss against his trembling shoulder, and his body relaxed in her arms. “I got you.”

[swallowedburningcoals]

whumpee surrendering themselves to something they don't want to do, something they know will hurt them, because there is no other alternative. perhaps it's their only way out of a sticky situation. perhaps the threat of whumper punishing them is more than enough to make them comply. either way, they have to fight against their own instincts, their own desires, their own dignity, in order to give themselves up to the torment. it's like a swine walking into a slaughterhouse; a death march.

bonus if whumpee is usually very defiant and self-assured, even if the face of danger. what possibly could've broken their spirit bad enough to make them behave like this?

[megatraven]

OTP prompts based on a reddit thread I saw today titled, "What is something a friend did that accidentally turned you on?"

A licks B's hand to try grossing B out, but B wants to kiss A afterwards

A loans B their hoodie and realizes it smells really good when B returns it

A gets knots in their back and one day complains about it to B, who immediately comes over and tells A to relax before massaging the knot out

A is on the edge of having a panic attack when B reaches down and grabs A by the chin and asks if they're doing okay, distracting A

A and B go to a concert together, where A puts their finger through B's belt loop so they don't get lost or separated, flustering B

B places a hand on A's forearm and keeps it there while they talk/ask a question

A and B are working on an art project together that involves paint when B comments on there being some on A's face. B tells A to close their eyes and wipes it away, and when A opens their eyes, they see B leaning in for a kiss.

A and B are roommates, and A thinks B smells really good. A asks B what they wear to smell so nice, only to find out B doesn't wear anything, and A just likes the way B smells.

A puts their and on B's hip by accident and feels B's underwear beneath their thin clothes/dress

B cries on A's shoulder, and A feels guilty for getting turned on by it

A, B, and C are on a roadtrip together, and the hotel has one bed and one couch. C calls the couch, and A and B get stuck in the bed together. A wakes up to B cuddling them in their sleep

B is doing A's makeup but A isn't angling their head right, so B grabs their chin and tilts it up towards them, flustering A

A is laying down in the morning after a sleepover with B when B climbs on top of them, chest pressed to A's back, and tells them to wake up and that breakfast is ready

B hugs A while A confides in B about their bad day

A keeps their work keys clipped to their belt loop, but occasionally B needs to use them and unclips them themself, making A feel tingly each time

B asks A to do something for them, and says "good girl" when they do it, turning A into a blushing mess. (Optional: A may question their gender afterwards)

A sits on B's lap and B grows very warm

A asks B if their lips are chapped and gets really close to B

B presses down on A's bruises absentmindedly, distracting A

A is talking to B but B isn't paying attention, so A interlocks their fingers with B's to keep their attention on them

A and B are at a pool party wearing their bathing suits when B reaches over A and puts their hand on A's thigh for support

A strokes B's hair for so long that B begins to fall asleep from how nice it feels

A usually goes by a nickname, but B has taken a shine to using A's full name which makes A feel a way

[jesuistrestriste]

thinking about your art mommy and breeding kink fics and just imagining him feeling comfortable calling you mommy but not indulging in his other kink . Until one day you’re about to sink down on him in cowgirl and you say ‘there’s a new rule okay? You can’t pull out…under any circumstances.’ And he’s so confused and flustered because you always tell him to pull out or use protection but this time you want him to cum inside you over and over and he’s just moaning ‘mommy mommy gonna cum’ constantly - he’ll do anything for you and he’s so desperate and excited he’s finally getting to breed you

just thoughts yknow

all your fics are amazing by the way 🫶🏻

awwwww:(( yea he’s so precious

like if you sit down on his cock and let it rest inside you for a minute while you coo in his ear; little words of encouragement.. he’s gone. his hands desperately clinging to yours while tears spring to his eyes and he whimpers, feeling himself twitch inside your walls. “mommy…” he whines, wiggling his hips under yours and begging you—without the proper words—to start riding him properly

and when you do, he’s making the prettiest sounds. you get to watch his eyes roll back into his head and his bottom lip quiver as he relishes in the feeling of you squeezing around his throbbing dick. it’s leaking globs of precome inside you with every bounce of your ass over his pelvis, and he’s nearly crying..

“gonna come, mommy, gonna come ‘nside you, mommy, muh-mommy, mommynghh—“

the tension in his stomach coils tight and he starts to move his body to meet yours, forcing his eyes open to look to your face; searching for any sign of approval.

you smile down at him and moan, and he gasps in sharp bursts, “ohhh, mommy! i’m, please, i’m— i’m gonna—! gonna! come, come come come—“

he’s totally incoherent by the time he’s bucking and slamming himself tight up against you, whimpering as he squirts his load warmly into the depths of your core. he bumps your cervix and coats your insides, squeezing your palms against his as he shudders. “mmmnn.. gonna get you pregnant, mommy… please keep it all inside.. you’ll keep my come, won’t you?” he begs, pouting like a guilty puppy :(

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Red Hood finds Nightwing in the throes of fear toxin, babbling about missed calls and text messages.

[seafoamdew]

Ahhhh this prompt made me giggly!

[pia55tri]

“I just moved to my new Monaco apartment, but the removal company refused to carry my mattress upstairs, you live in my building, can you help me?”

thank you, anon, for sending this prompt in and all the other prompts 🫶

It’s just the universe laughing at him, really, that he’s gone and knocked on the neighbour’s door and it opens to Carlos Sainz Jr.’s perfect fucking face. In Monaco.

Oscar doesn’t even know why he’s so surprised. It was Lando who recommended this building to him, a little away from the more busy centre of the little-big city of Monaco. He said he needed it to be subtle, he needed a little bit of air. And Lando, who thrives in the bustle and chaos of the metro, immediately went, Ah! I know the place for you, mate. Check it out? Oscar did and it was perfect. And of course, he should have known that the place was exactly to his standards and needs because Lando heard about it from Carlos, who Lando has always liked saying is very similar to Oscar in all the ways that matter but that Oscar refuses to acknowledge.

“Oscar,” Carlos says with a pleasant inflection that mollifies the brief spike in Oscar’s heart rate. “What a happy surprise. Are you living here, now?”

And Oscar just looks at him with wide eyes. Oscar is still in his crumpled airport clothes and smelling of the sun and desperate for a nap. Carlos is — His hair is a mess about his head. His cheeks are covered with scruff darker than Oscar is used to seeing. And he’s shirtless, flushed lines all over his skin like he was just in bed. And. He looks like he smells like… fresh sheets or pancakes. Luxury cologne.

“Erm. Yeah. Yes. I just moved in today, actually. Actually, I knocked because,” he cringes, “because I needed someone’s help and you were the neighbour…” And, really! He should be grateful his neighbour just so happened to be someone who actually spoke the one language he could speak  and not one of the many languages he didn’t. “The moving company left my mattress downstairs and I was thinking of getting maintenance to help bring it up, but they’re all busy right now. I just. I need help.”

(Somewhere in the city, Lando Norris is laughing at him.)

Carlos patiently listens throughout his long, winding plea, and then, finally, nods, and says, “Sure. Let me just put a shirt on.”

“Right,” Oscar says.

Carlos doesn’t even bother closing his door, so Oscar stands there and tries not to watch his muscles moving as he tugs on a shirt that pulls tight around his unfortunately well-shaped biceps.

“Stairs?” he asks.

They’re not anywhere near the ground floor. So, of course, Oscar can’t turn down a challenge like that, and he says, dumbly, “Sure.”

That is how Oscar finds himself not staring at Carlos’s broad shoulders as they make their winding way down too many flights of stairs.

Oscar doesn’t even know what they talk about as they go. All he can think about is how warm it is in the stairwell, and how it makes Carlos’s lilting accent bounce around and settle into the folds of his brains. It must be the jetlag. Or the Monégasque heat. Or the insanity his sisters have always sworn he had.

When they get to the lobby, his mattress is exactly where the moving company had left it, laid mortifyingly out in the open. Thankfully, it is the middle of the day and no other residents are walking about the place to bear witness to this entire thing. Together, they haul the mattress to where it miraculously fits inside the elevator and pick up a rather lovely conversation that Oscar isn’t used to having outside a long plane-ride or at one of someone or other’s parties. What he is used to is ignoring how Carlos’s biceps bulge every time he moves or how his plush lips fall open when he breathes.

When they manoeuvre the mattress around his, actually rather sparse, furniture and onto his bedframe, Oscar is so relieved and grateful that he doesn’t even blush about his underwear lying on the floor of his room.

“Thank you,” he says, kicking a pair of Calvin Kleins behind himself. He tries for a smile. “Really appreciate it, mate.”

“It’s nothing,” Carlos shrugs.

“No, it’s really not,” he insists, leading them to the kitchen. “Actually, do you want to stay for lunch? It’s really the least I could do.”

Carlos raises his brow. “So polite?”

Oscar is about to say something smart when he abruptly shuts his mouth and spins back around from the empty fridge to face Carlos. “I. Erm.”

Carlos looks amused, eyes crinkling at the corners. Oscar can feel the heat radiating off himself.

Carlos laughs easily. “I’ll pick a place and you pay, okay?”

And Oscar nods, calm and cool. “Sure.” He can do that. It’s absolutely normal.

“I’ll drive.”

Oscar keeps nodding. “Erm. Cool.” Very cool. A ride in Carlos’s Ferrari. Nice. Cool. Chill.

But then, Carlos winks and says, “It’s a date.”

And Oscar, helpless, charmed, does not swoon. Instead, he says, “Yeah.”

[purplepixel]

For the injury prompts, maybe 13 with Leo and Donnie?

“I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so.”

This would happen. Disaster twins at their finest. He’ll be fine….maybe

Special thanks to @promptsbytaurie for the prompts!

[nyoomerr]

wowwow drabble requests! if you've got time, it'd be fun to see some of binggeyuan daily life where sy realizes that bingge DEFINITELY knows how to do/can easily learn (insert mundane modern-day life skill) but he's playing it up and asking sy to teach him in order to babygirlify himself HAHA

once bingge accidentally stumbles on the benefits of being a pathetic soggy dog for his yuan-ge, he can't help but try and replicate the effect!!

---

Things have been… weird, recently, when it comes to Luo Binghe.

Not that there’s necessarily a ‘normal’ when it comes to demonic ex-emperors living in modern China, but before, it was at least an expected weird. A constant low-lying fear for his life, sort of weird. A constant, less subtle fear for his pride because Luo Binghe is living in his messy apartment, sort of weird.

But then - 

Listen, Shen Yuan really hadn’t meant to change things to this degree, okay! It had been completely accidental! If he knew Luo Binghe would start acting like this, he wouldn’t have - he wouldn’t have…

…No, he definitely would have. 

Faced with Luo Binghe’s face, damp from tears that he couldn’t swipe away fast enough and blotchy and red and ugly from the embarrassment - 

Faced with the small, panicked hitches of Luo Binghe’s breath, and the way his mouth had fallen slightly open to try and breath through the tears - 

Faced with the way Luo Binghe’s eyelashes had matted together and his lips had shone from the way he had nervously wet them with a perfectly pink tongue, and the way his skin had smelled like salt and fear and - 

Shen Yuan has to very forcibly dismiss the thought. He frequently has to dismiss the memory of Luo Binghe crying, the smell and feel and look of it burned into Shen Yuan’s very core and yet wildly distracting. 

And… other feelings. Other feelings that had led to that first time, where Luo Binghe had cried and Shen Yuan had stared at him, enraptured, until he’d done something utterly foolish that ended up turning Luo Binghe weird!

“Yuan-ge,” Luo Binghe whines. Shen Yuan steadfastly does not look at him. “Yuan-ge, I don’t know how to do this…”

If Shen Yuan doesn’t acknowledge it, it isn’t happening! Luo Binghe will not be so - so -!

“...Yuan-ge, I really don’t know…” Luo Binghe sniffles.

Fuck!! Shen Yuan thinks. I’ve done this!! I’ve turned him weird!! I’ve turned him - pathetic!!!

“It’s the dishwasher,” Shen Yuan grits out, still refusing to look. “You have definitely used the dishwasher before.”

“No,” Luo Binghe lies, “I’ve been washing things by hand because I didn’t trust your machine to get it right.”

“Then wash it by hand this time too,” Shen Yuan says mercilessly.

“...I cut my hand making dinner earlier, so the dish soap would sting.”

Shen Yuan turns to look at Luo Binghe, confused. “What? Can’t you just heal it -”

There’s a moment that seems to happen in slow motion: Shen Yuan catches Luo Binghe’s eyes, and they look very, very satisfied, in the dangerous way that a manipulative little bitch looks before getting you exactly where they want you. 

Caught you, that expression says.

And then Luo Binghe’s expression morphs into one that actually matches the whiney tone he’d been using, his eyes going wet and shiny and his lips pursing in a devastating pout. Shen Yuan… really never should have looked, no matter what lines Luo Binghe threw out!!

“Yuan-ge, come show me?” Luo Binghe simpers. 

Shen Yuan tries to look away. His gaze catches on the way Luo Binghe’s face is starting to turn a ruddy pink, and the perfect pearl of liquid pooling in the corner of one of his eyes. He fails to look away.

Still, he valiantly tries to resist. “...Just press the button, Binghe.”

“Which button? There’s - there’s so many, Yuan-ge…”

Shen Yuan swallows thickly. His mind is replaying the sound of Luo Binghe’s voice cracking over and over and over.

“The - the one that says ‘start,’ obviously, stop asking questions you already know the answer to -”

Luo Binghe sniffles. It’s an ugly wet snotty sound, and Shen Yuan should be grossed out by it and should be able to look away. 

Shen Yuan’s eyes follow the movement of a tear falling in a sad wet line down Luo Binghe’s cheeks instead, enraptured. 

Still, he manages to stay right where he is, not coming a step closer to Luo Binghe where he stands by the dishwasher. It’s a little late to fix this weirdness from Luo Binghe entirely, but - maybe it can be mitigated if Shen Yuan stops feeding into it!

There’s a moment of silence, the two of them only staring at each other. 

Then - Luo Binghe’s expression doesn’t change entirely, but there’s suddenly an edge to it that wasn’t there before. It doesn’t quite suit the pathetic, wet look he’d clearly been leaning into a moment prior, but - 

Shen Yuan swallows again uselessly. It suits Luo Binghe very, very well, looking clever and manipulative even as he cries.

“If I ask the question I really want to know the answer to, then,” Luo Binghe says slowly, sniffling for dramatic effect, “will you promise to answer it?”

Shen Yuan definitely should not agree. 

“Okay,” he agrees weakly.

“Then: how much more do I have to cry before Yuan-ge decides to top again tonight?” Luo Binghe asks sweetly, even as another tear slides down his face.

…Ah, fuck, Shen Yuan really went and messed up a perfectly good stallion protagonist!! 

[lucabyte]

been doodling in class so i dont fall asleep in the middle of lectures. here's some of the isat ones so far. love using cheap felt tip pens

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Saw the kissing list prompt and after reading 28 I immediately thought of Harvey x reader idk maybe it’s just me lol

Prompt: One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

Warnings: Established relationship, smooches

"Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"It will, but that's okay," You teased. Harvey smiled grudgingly, giving a small nod as he sat back down in his chair, eyeing the retreating waiter's back.

"Everything okay?" You added.

"Fine. Mike ran into a complication, but it should be alright now. What'd you wind up getting?"

"Apple pie."

"Classic."

"What kind of complication?"

A grimace flitted across Harvey's lips as he folded his hands on the table. You rolled your eyes.

"I don't need all the gory details. Just a little hint?"

"Two words: Exculpatory evidence."

"Oh," Your eyes widened. "Yikes."

"Big yikes."

"If you need to go—"

"Mike has it handled."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Harvey reached across the table, taking hold of your hand. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away right now."

"Well, touching Rolling Stones reference aside, if something happens and that changes, I get it."

"You think I'm going to let anything interrupt our anniversary dinner?"

You tipped your brows up slightly, and Harvey tacked on, "...Again?"

You chuckled, leaning back as the waiter returned with your slice of pie.

"Thanks," You smiled, taking up one of the forks and tucking in as Harvey did the same. He got two bites in before his eyes slipped shut, a groan humming past his lips.

"Is that the pie, or is your phone buzzing?"

"Both," He grumbled, fishing into his pocket with a frown. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." You dug your fork into the slice, doing your best to focus on it instead of the hushed, irritated conversation happening on the other side of the table. You heard a heavy sigh, and you knew what was coming next.

"Go on," You urged.

"Baby—"

"I know," You nodded, forcing a small smile as you met his eye again. "It's okay."

Harvey sighed, lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll be home late."

"Okay."

"I'll make it up to you."

You smiled a little, leaning up for a gentle kiss as he stood. You eyed the table as his footsteps retreated, tugging the piece of pie closer to yourself and poking at it with your fork. You could at least hold your annoyance until he was definitely out of the restaurant, right? Besides, you still had pie. You took a larger scoop of pie with a dollop of whipped cream on top and shoveling it in with a soft sigh. So much for a calm evening.

You heard approaching footsteps again, but assumed that it was the waiter, so you sat up just a little.

"I paid the check," Harvey's voice made you look up in surprise, "So don't worry about that."

"Oh. I could've—"

"I know you could've, but I wasn't going to let you."

Harvey's eyes wandered your face for a moment, and you frowned as his lips tipped up with a small, amused smile.

"What is it?" You asked.

"You've got a little..." Harvey trailed off, bracing on hand on the back of your chair as he raised the other to trace your lower lip gently. Your eyelashes fluttered as the tip of his thumb dipped into your mouth, and your tongue gently lapped at the smear of whipped cream. His eyes lowered to the swell of your lips, fingers curling around your jaw as he tipped your chin up for another kiss. You parted your lips, letting your eyes slide shut as his mouth worked tenderly against yours. You raised your hand to curl in his hair, smiling against his lips as he groaned softly again, then broke your kiss.

"Was that the taste of the whipped cream, or is your phone buzzing again?" You teased.

"You, baby," He murmured. "That was all you."

[shesnake]

i feel like you're The Person to ask this so: do you have movie recs for people who love iwtv? just realized the end of s2 is near and i will absolutely go through iwtv withdrawal...

Hello, sorry for taking so long to respond I have been Thinking. I've already made a list of lesbian films that Armand reminds me of so here is my Louis de Pointe du Lac film canon. sorry not a lot of these are about vampires or even technically horror (and so probs not what you're after, feel free to send another message with a more specific vibe) but I just Feel him in these and it's hurting! what terrible horrible amazing show...

Happy Together

Ganja & Hess

Thirst 2009

Pain and Glory

The Father 2020

Decision to Leave

Saint Omer

Anatomy of a Fall

Four Daughters

Touki Bouki

The Servant 1963

Memento

Now Voyager

Samui Song

The Deep Blue Sea (NTL 2016 version preferably!)

Three Colours: Blue

It's Only the End of the World

Autumn Sonata