#Listen to Absent Moon

[kitkatisacat]

Shiny hunting Giratina in Brilliant Diamond giving me them Champion of Ennui feelings

[thatnerdydino]

everyone's favourite they/them archaeologist. the Muln

[appallinnballin]

SOMSNOSSSSAA AA 🙏

HELO

[clickatickaclickaticka]

me when the. when the seasons change

[dedusmuln]

wayne and dedusmuln... i have been reminded of them . (clutches my head) . queue a ramble in the tags

[vidapon]

what have i become? what could i have been?

[theeultimatelifeform]

the sillies!

[corntort]

I'm gonna be 100% honest, for the last like month or so I just assumed hylics was like. an oc world or DND campaign you were in

FOR REAL??? THAT'S AWESOME man i wish . i'd love to create such a foreign diverse and intruiging world like hylics. HEAVILY recc getting into it though both games are super super cheap and theyre such a unique and dazzling experience. ill be real you wont know really what the Fuck is going on at first but having people clarify to you the canon in a community as lovely as the hylics one is a treat. i'm always open to clarifying as best i can to those who are wanting to get into it!!!

[absentmoon]

had dinner. i think ive been afflicted

[alteredbeast]

why are "indie game soundtrack" and "japanese vgm" 2 of my top 5 genres when i dont listen to game soundtracks at all?

[gloopdimension]

can i confess.

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦

(I got brainrot and I'm still not confident in writing them, so I'm just gonna do this)

Y/N, dizzy off blood loss & pain meds: It is hot as hell in this funky ass hot ass room I'm in- Ghost: *steps in* Y/N: IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER?!

-- Ghost, reading: If his dick slap his thigh wh-when he walk. I shall listen when he talk. Y/N: *calmly eating and nodding* Soap & Gaz: *trying so hard not to laugh and failing* Ghost: And you posted this saying "SHEESH" with eighteen fuckin' android emojis Soap & Gaz: *WHEEZE*

-- König: I am a monster, you know. Y/N: They told you that?… König: Look at me… Y/N: Give me your hand. König: Why? Y/N: Just let me see it. *holds his hand* Hmm, a long life line, oh, and this one means you’re shy. Hmmmmm… König: What? Y/N: Well that’s funny, I don’t see any… König: Any what? Y/N: Monster lines. Not a single one.

-- Price: If you two can manage not to kill each other while I'm gone- Ghost: Oh please... Graves: We're not children. Price: ...*walks away* Ghost: ... Graves: ... Ghost: Eat shit and die. Graves: Yes, fuck you.

-- Soap: So, the plan is kind of changing, so we're just going to take you with us. Hostage!Y/n: Am I being kidnapped? Soap: No, no. Hostage!Y/N: ...Can I leave? Soap: Mm, no.

--

Gaz: Now, now Y/N I know this is a lot to take in but don’t do anything irrational. Y/N: I’m- I’m gonna fight the f-fucking moon.

—

Soap: Mama didn’t raise no bitch, let’s go. Gaz: No no, mama raised a bitch, let’s go- Y/N: Mama didn’t raise anyone, actually. My mom was absent. Ghost: Oh my god.

—

Graves: Bro you’re actually funny! Soap: …I knew that. A lot of people knew that…I- Wh-what’s getting me is the actually.

--

Random Friend: Jeez, Y/N, how do you get any work done with all these attractive men around. Y/N: See, I thought the same thing when I first joined. Then I got to know them all, and that's not a problem anymore. Soap: Ouch... Gaz: I'm still taking the compliment.

[jolalibrary]

fifteen hundred and one

frankie morales x f!reader | frankie masterlist

summary: he's your best friend. nothing would ever change that. except maybe a goodnight kiss.

warnings: just fluff. best friends who flirt to something. kissing. flirting. she calls frankie nemo. an: this is my submission for @janaispunk’s milestone celebration based on this moodboard and the prompt "goodnight kiss"! hugest and biggest congrats to you jana, my babe. you deserve all of this and more!

Laughing, hard. It’s all instinctive as one palm stretches out across his stomach, and the other arm hooks around you, tugging you close.

He tenses when your fingers brush over his threadbare tee, your head turning into him as you mirror him, giggling. Burying deep into the fabric, it seeps into his skin.

And all Frankie thinks is—

It’s easy with you.

Has been for years. Since you’d stumbled in as the friend of one of his friends girl-not-girl, sticking around longer than they did.

You'd glued to him, happily. Never minding, or caring. Somehow surprised at how simple it was going from ‘do you want a drink’ to resting your head on his shoulder, while the two of you absently listened to whatever bullshit Benny was saying.

Now, he looks forward to seeing you.

To late-night burger runs and early-morning coffee meets, quiz nights with the others and just the two of you movie trips.

At some point, between his tongue doubling in his head at the sight of you that night to now, he’s been resisting kissing you. Sometimes easy, sometimes it’s harder.

Tonight it’s the latter.

A hand clenched around his heart, squeezing. Beneath the moon's gentle gaze, the world slows, each laugh and comment infused with the spell of the silvery glow. It's intimate, almost sacred.

And it forces him to remind himself of the usual array of things that stop him from kissing the wit-induced smile right from your lips. The list he runs through to ensure he doesn't ruin you, in the same way, he'd almost destroyed his license, his job. Stopping himself from tasting the gloss you’ve smeared there, the one which makes street lamps reflect as the two of you walk back to his truck.

“—so even if I scratched your favourite vinyl, you’d still be friends with me?”

Opening the passenger side door, he smiles, gleams, fucking beams. “Yeah!”

He hears you mutter bullshit when he shuts it, fighting a laugh as he comes around the back before sliding in.

It’s not a far drive to yours. One he’s memorised, etched into him. Not just from tonight’s location, but all over town. From his to work, and your favourite spot to his. Able to drive, mainly on auto-pilot, not needing to concentrate too much, able to answer your wild, and ridiculous, array of “even if” questions. Each ranged from ‘if I burnt all your grass’ to, ‘hypothetically if you had a dog and I kicked it’. Each is smudged with the sound of the radio you've tuned, a station he won't admit he listens to when you're not even with him.

You don’t stop your questioning when he pulls onto your drive, parking side by side next to your car. The one he helped you haggle for three months ago now—if he thinks hard, he can still hear the sound of your squeal in gratitude in the furthest part of his ear.

“—what if I stole your last coffee filter?”

“I’m guessing I’m desperate for it too?”

“Yes,” you say, defiant but playfully. “Of course.”

“You’re telling me that if I stole your last coffee filter, you’d still be my friend?”

Killing the engine, he sighs. Shrugging. “Yeah.”

Unbuckling your belt, you throw a glare. “I don’t believe you. You’re more coffee than blood.”

Shaking his head, he rests against the headrest, the corner of his lips growing into his cheek. “Not a thing you could do that would make me ever want to not be your friend.”

Rolling your eyes, you hover your hand over the doorhandle. A part of him wants to ask you to wait, to not go just yet. A routine he thinks through at least three times a month when he sees you. Each time ending in the same cowardly way.

“Goodnight, Frank,” you say, in that same tone—one hard to read, forged in sadness but dressed up in joy—as you press your lips to his cheek.

He resists touching it like he always does. Mumbling the same scripted, “Night” he always does.

Not jolting when the door meets the frame, eyes pinned on you as you walk down your path—waiting for you to step on your porch, turn back and wave, fidget for your keys before unlocking the door and giving him another wave. Another pattern, another repetition.

Except tonight you stop.

You don’t even make it halfway down your path.

Blood pounds in his ears, something knotting inside of him. An urge, a fire lighting in his stomach. One he listens to. His hand shoves the door open, as the other undoes his belt, forcing himself to exit.

Frankie spots the glance in surprise at finding him coming around the front to join you. As though the idea he would is a shock, a surprise as he calls your name.

It’s slow, the way you spin on your heels. You pause, eyes narrowing, before widening, fighting a smile. A thing he can tell, can read. Even if you try to hide it in the night, shield it from the almost full moon and the stars which twinkle above.

“You think you’d be able to be my friend if I kissed you, Nemo?”

Leaning against the brick of your house, watching your eyes flick from his shoes back to his face.

“Finally ran out of cat names?”

“I’m branching out. I could go back to calling you Salem.”

Smirking, rolling his lips. “Still not a fish.”

Sighing, shifting your weight. “Didn’t answer my question.”

Wiping his hand with his face, hurrying his brain to think of something, anything, because he’s not sure if this is a joke. If you’re pushing him.

But the longer the silence thickens, the more time you stare at him, eyes growing wider and wider, he thinks that it might not be his heart that is the only one pounding. The only one beating in his ears, the pulse throbbing in his neck.

“Fran—”

“No,” he stammers, clearing his throat. “I–I’d be too busy.”

Lips sliding into your cheek, nervousness fading, fingers scratching the tip of your nose as he swears a shooting star soars in your eyes. “Doing what?”

“Kissing you fifteen hundred times.”

“Just fifteen hundred?”

Shrugging, chewing his tongue, he exhales—loud, nostrils flaring. “To start.”

Taking a step closer, a timid one. Enough to make a point, but not enough to close the gap entirely. Your knuckles brush his stomach, a blend between a stroke and a nudge.

“You’ve thought about this.”

A small part—one wrapped in vines of doubt, encased in pretending—warns him to clamp his mouth shut. To swallow the syllables and forms letters that make the sentence buzz in his mouth, along his teeth, and jaw.

Flicking his eyes from the floor to your face. “All the time, baby.”

He hears it, but he enjoys watching it more, the way you gasp. Low, airy, trying to bury it.

“Give me a goodnight kiss, Morales.”

He doesn’t think twice.

Brushing his lips against yours, soft, cautious, and tender, before it deepens. It makes his heart throb, double; it almost somersaults in his chest as your palm presses to his cheek, fingers sliding into his hair as one of his hands finds a home on your waist.

Then you’re smiling, almost laughing, right up against his mouth as he tastes the sugar on your lips. He feels the joy brushing against his mouth as your fingers knot into his hair.

And it unlocks him, allows you to consume him, to find himself free falling knowing he'll never land, fall or be hurt—just floating, as you tug him flush to you, a feeling so heavenly he almost wishes to pinch himself—

“Of course, you’re a good kisser,” you whisper, ghosting the words over his lips.

“Been thinking about it, have you?”

Snorting, nose nudging his, you press your mouth back to his, more searing, open-mouthed. “When I drive. At work. In the morning. At night.”

Each is punctuated with a kiss. The latter flows around his head, swirling in different shades and fonts as he groans, fingers sliding around the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. Making it a little rougher, more committed, feeling you cling to him, tugging him closer as he manoeuvres the two of you—flushing your back to the brick, his chest to yours.

A moan escapes you, tickling his lower lip as your thumb brushes along the back of his neck. Mouths parting, for a moment breathing the other, simply staring, gazing, ogling.

“Fourteen hundred and ninety-nine to go?”

Shaking his head, nose brushing yours, thumb stroking against your cheek. “This is a goodnight kiss—a necessity to begin the counter.”

“Oh,” you whisper, elongating it, adding a smirk to the end. “So, we have another fifteen hundred and then, we stop?”

Taking a deep breath, the scent of your perfume weaving into his soul. The sound of a car streets away travelling in the quiet of the night.

“Depends.” Tilting your head, waiting, confusion there. “You might unlock the next stage.”

Grinning against him, able to feel it as he runs his knuckles along your jaw.

“Or my lips fall off?”

Laughing, just like he did earlier. He smiles. “Or your lips fall off.”

[dancingbirdie]

I interrupt your daily schedules to present some purely plotless Astarion x gn! Reader smut. Courtesy of me listening to an oldie but goodie "What's My Name" by Rihanna ft. Drake during my morning commute.

Note that this is seriously NSFW so don't read below the break line unless you're a horny little gremlin like this pair or me since yeah I wrote it. :)

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

The Things We Could Do in Twenty Minutes…

Rating: MATURE

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), hand kink, slight praise kink, slight dom!Astarion/sub!Reader, public sex/exhibitionism

Summary: You and Astarion have been tasked with a scouting mission. You grow a little bored from waiting around and very horny watching Astarion play with his knife.

***

The two of you were leaning side by side against the alley wall. Watching. Waiting. Poised to strike whenever your quarry exited the tavern across the street. 

But it was late. You had been skulking about for hours. You were bored. 

And Astarion, gods damn him, was flush against you, smelling like temptation and sin. Subtle wafts of his signature bergamot, rosemary, and brandy scent teased your nose as his fingers idly spun his blade around in his hands. 

Your breath hitched as you watched him. Watched how gracefully those long, slender fingers absently played with the knife while his eyes scanned the street for any signs of activity. He was totally oblivious to your ogling, which was good because you could swear you were starting to salivate just watching him toy with his weapon. 

You wondered how those fingers would feel scratching against your scalp. Pulling your hair. Clasping your jaw. 

Fuck it, you thought. Throwing caution to the wind, you reached a hand forward to caress his chest. His head whipped around immediately to look at you, brow furrowed. It was an innocent enough gesture, but his eyes caught the look on your face, illuminated dimly in the silvery light of the moon. How your pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust. 

He smirked, one delicate fang peeking out from between his lips. 

“Can I help you?” he drawled. 

“You can actually,” you whispered. Your hand lightly traced down his chest, down his abdomen, before it stopped at the bindings of his trousers. 

You looked up at him beneath your lashes, your eyes beseeching.

“My, my,” Astarion chuckled, his voice like silk. “Wanting to play while we’re on the clock? Tsk. What would our comrades think?”

“It’ll make our cover seem more convincing, don’t you think?” you reasoned, licking your lips as you noticed the growing bulge between his legs. “Just two unassuming lovers, swept up in a moment of passion as they passed this dingy alley?”

“Our target should be leaving any moment now, darling. We wouldn’t want to miss our window of opportunity.”

“I give it at least twenty minutes before the tavern closes. And just think, the things we could do in twenty minutes…”

He gave a throaty laugh. “You make a very convincing argument. How could I ever deny you?”

“Is that a yes then?” your voice was husky, struggling to contain the urge to drop to your knees and taste him. You would wait for his consent. Of course you would wait. But you couldn’t deny the heady desires ratcheting up within you. 

“Yes,” he cooed, nuzzling your neck and planting a quick kiss against the fang marks he’d left earlier that evening. “Go on then, love.” 

“Thank the gods,” you groaned, immediately kneeling before him and undoing the bindings of his breeches. 

You captured him in your mouth as soon as his impressive length sprang free, tasting the salt and musk of him as you took him as far back as your throat would allow. Your eyes watered with the pressure of him pressing down your throat. It was the sweetest pain. 

You heard the muffled thump of his head as it hit the brick wall. You relished the tortured groan that spilled from his lips as you continued to gorge yourself on him.

Then a moan of your own vibrated against him as his hands moved to grip your hair. His fingers scratching against your scalp nearly had your eyes rolling back into your head. With your hands braced on his thighs, you continued to bob your head, sucking, licking and swallowing around him. 

He tasted like the purest drug you could ever inject into your veins. You would never tire of doing this for him. Of hearing and feeling how your mouth and tongue caused him to shiver and quake with pleasure. You could feel your own release building because of it, despite the lack of any stimulation to your groin. It didn’t matter. 

You had no desire for anything but Astarion’s pleasure tonight. 

“Look at me,” he growled suddenly. You felt his fingers clutch your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. 

You peered up at him as you continued to piston your mouth around his length, whining softly as you beheld the look in his eyes. 

“I want you to look at me while I cum in that gorgeous, sinful mouth,” he whispered, his hips beginning to buck into you, meeting your movements in perfect synchrony. 

You moaned again at his words, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum as you continued to suck him. 

“Are you ready, darling?” he murmured, his other hand reverently stroking your hair. A stark contrast to the absolutely deplorable things you were doing to his cock. 

You gave a garbled assent, taking him in with a surge of passion as you anticipated the feeling of his release shooting down your throat.  

A few moments more and your anticipation was rewarded in full. You groaned as you heard him grunt. Felt his final, feral thrust into your mouth. Tasted the salty sweetness of his cum on your tongue. 

As he came down from his high, you gave him one last, obscene lick before removing your mouth. Slouching against the wall, utterly spent, he watched as you deliberately met his eyes and swallowed his cum with a gulp. He hummed his approval, grinning wickedly. 

“You naughty thing,” he crooned. “You’ll be the death of us both.”

You returned his grin with an impish one of your own before wiping your mouth clean on the sleeve of your shirt and rising to stand next to him once more. 

You surveyed the street. Scanned the tavern for signs of movement. Nothing was amiss. Your quarry hadn’t escaped.

“See?” you murmured, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Twenty minutes was all I needed.”

***

[vennyellise]

Astrology observations🌘

Having a libra rising doesn't always mean they have good relationship with people around them this people attract a lot of freinds who view them as competition or envy them anyway it's either because they effortlessly get the attention

Either leo moons have narcicistic self centered mother or they have this sister like relationship with their mother i view this people who have this pure older sister like bond with their mom, because as the sun in your moon you just have this very bright and warm but also at times can be pretty damaging relationship with ur mom.

Rising and moon opposition in chart i noticed dissapont many people by the way their first impression persona doesn't match who they are, it actually can be quite opposite

Aquarius moons are the actually more outgoing than aquarius sun, they are more approachable either, and they tend to be really good in conversations

Scorpio Stelluims sorry but yall scare the crap out of me they give me creep vibes, but they are really deep tho and they actually suprise me how intelligent they are or how they deliver themselves

Pisces venus may grew up with absent mother/father or their mother/father wasn't just there for them, this people are prone to manipulation they are top tier hopeless romantic and would love you purely of who you are but it depends on the chart ofc

Virgo moons can't shut the fuck up inside their head, they may listen to you in conversations but they would have another damn conversations in their mind like that's how obsessive they can be

Aquarius venus are damn misunderstood this are the types that would actually go for the weirdest type of people to date just to have an experience, this people are filled with curiosity on what it's like to date you, anyway they're good at convincing

Taurus suns has this air of ethereal in them, like they have this glow that seperates them from the rest

Capricorn suns are drop dead gorgeous like their beautiful as helk you can spot it from their eyes or bone structures, like they have this exotic beauty that seperates them from the rest

Sagittarius men can be such loverboy to the girl they actually love, but if hurt deep can be the shittiest from all the shittiest

Sagittarius woman are damn material girl, never met a Sagittarius woman who aren't sweet n sassy and who doesn't slay 24/7

Aries sun woman are actually a big softiee they especially have the biggest soft spot for their freinds or the one they love

Virgo moons are lowkey more controlling than virgo suns while virgo risings are more blunt about it

Mercury rising🤝 people always leaning for your opinion

Venus rising🤝 pips falling love at first sight

Pluto rising🤝 silent stalkers

Sun rising🤝 doesn't have to beg for attention

Mars rising🤝 attracting pips with mommy issues

Moon rising🤝 the human pillow

[corntort]

the season better start rearranging to replace some shit right now or i swear to god i will rearrange its limbs in an unorthodox way.