#aaaaa I hope this is okay!!

[gotchibam]

Nidoran (FTM) ko-fi doodle for Kris!

I'm accepting pokemon ko-fi doodle requests here! ✨

[tiredsmashbros]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MANGO !!! :3c 🍔✨

i legit found out yesterday last night but i was too tired to make something at the time so i began manifesting for a snowtrapped remaster UIGJEFDSXIUHJK

LEGIT I REMEMBER THINKIN AS A JOKE TO MYELEF "it would soooo cool if they added mango's art on their bday lmao" AND IT HAPPENED BRO THAT IS SO FUKIN AWESOME SRSLY CONGRATULATIONS U SRSLY DESERVE IT IUGJHBDECSX

i need to yeet now to eat and do hw but i really wanted to make smth for u even if its a bit scrappy atm aaa but i hope u like it man 💛🍔

[lxvi-gloria]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[greenvillainredemption]

One thing I love about mutant mayhem is that Leo has a crush on an April who’s not conventionally attractive. It almost feels like, because of the turtles’ isolated upbringing* he hasn’t been influenced by the popular western beauty ideals and just thinks this ordinary human is beautiful! And I think that’s really cool! Because she is!

*though they’ve clearly been exposed to celebrities and other pop culture so ?? idk lol

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

good morning/afternoon/evening, i saw your request open and i was wondering if you'd be up to write some headcanons about risotto & ghiaccio with a gn! s/o who likes to take care of them; whether it's combing/washing their hair, making meals for them, helping them relax after a day of work, etc.

feel free to delete/ignore this request if it's not of your liking. and, thanks in advance (<3).

I actually received another anon request asking for something similar-

- so I'm just gonna lump them all into one big heaping pile of headcanons! Thank you for the requests <333 La Squadra with a house husband/wife who loves to take care of them

Formaggio

Loves it so so so so much

How lucky he is to have an s/o like you, doting on him and putting in so much work for the two of you.

Always goes to you to massage out any aches from the day

Hugs you from behind while you're in the middle of cooking every time. No matter what. It's not a problem at all unless it leads to you getting something on yourself or getting burnt (in that case he'll apologize - then do it again the very next time.)

In return, he tries his best to treat you whenever he can. He buys you sweet lil gifts all the time, leaving them around for you to find while he's out on missions <333333

Illuso

All those pigtails of his? Yeah, they aren't much, but every time he puts his hair into them he considers asking you to do it instead. He never does, but if you find him doing his hair with a dumb smile on his face, that's why.

Need I say this man praises you and your work?

"Smells amazing, doll, whatcha cooking this time?"

"Damn, the room's spotless! You worked real hard, didn't ya?"

gives you a big ol' smorch on the lips....sigh....

Prosciutto

It's the kind of s/o he always pictured himself having, this is just what he expected life to have in store for him.

As a result, he sort of treats the things you do pretty casually. If you didn't know better you'd say he doesn't notice or care.

But of course, you know him better than that. The kiss on your knuckles before every meal and the quick compliments he gives you throughout the day are how he lets you know he loves you and the work you do.

It's the way he intertwines his fingers with yours in the late hours of the night, you two tucked in bed, that lets you know it's all appreciated.

Pesci

Oh Pesci.. oh this boy...

No matter how many times you do all these nice things for him, no matter how much of an everyday thing it is, it makes him feel so incredibly special every single time.

Every sweet thing you do for him has him practically blubbering out "thank you"s and "you're so sweet"s

Oh my GOODNESS. PLAY WITH HIS HAIR. his hairstyle may be strange (all of La Squadra's are), but please please please run your fingers through it, ruffle it around, mess it up a bit, he loves it.

BONUS POINTS if you get a hairbrush and fix up his messy hair afterwards. Oh he's putty in your hands.

Will do anything he can to return the favors, unless you tell him he doesn't have to. augghhh

damn i got passionate about this one

Melone

Remember how I said Formaggio hugs you from behind while you cook? Well, Melone does that too.

But unlike Formaggio he does it while you're doing literally anything. You could be scrubbing the toilet and he's embracing ya and peppering kissing down your neck and. probably distracting you quite a bit.

But also unlike Formaggio, Melone stops when asked, or when it's clear his affection is making it super hard for you to work.

He'd love it for you to braid his hair, and if you have long enough hair, he'll braid your hair too.

If there's ever a day where you aren't doing too hot, sick in bed and he has the day to stay home, he'll be your house husband for the day. A perfect chance for him to give back some kindness ;3

Ghiaccio

It's no surprise that he's coming home with a million things to complain about. So he'll pace around the kitchen and ramble while you make dinner. He's usually irritable at this time, might get picky with how you cut ingredients or how long you cook for.

Still loves everything you make, even if it's not to his exact specifications. Mutters out a "thanks" afterwards and pulls you close to press a looong kiss to your forehead.

Lets you massage the immense amounts of tension out of him. Also wants you to run your fingers through his hair, brushing through his curls and massaging his scalp. For once he stays silent, sighing and leaning into your loving touch.

This man spouts a million words a minute, but he knows he doesn't need to speak to let you know how much he loves you. He just basks in your comfort. Damn, you treat him so well.

Risotto

He loves the caring part of you, he really does, but at the start of your relationship you may need to tell him a few times to stop saying things like "you know, you don't have to do that for me."

Eventually you reach a compromise, and when it comes to cooking and cleaning, you two make it a team effort whenever he's around.

When it comes to helping him relax after work though, he never complains (anymore) about your pampering.

a comforting bath, your hands scrubbing sweet scents through his hair, a moment where he doesn't need to focus on anything except his s/o.

He dreams of having these moments for the rest of his life, holding you close in the eerie silent night and cherishing every second you love him and care for him.

[mizodorito]

serial designation j stimboard (murder drones)

- req by friend

credits:

x | x | x

x | x | x

x | x | x

[thewhizzyhead]

hi its me so back when wattblr was at its peak (2020), watt basically gave me a drug that made me really fuckin creative and want to do a bajillion musicals. 4 years later, warriors has now force-fed me this drug again. Welcome back to me being annoying as fuck woo here's the Izzy Original Rambly Musical Masterlist - Part 1

+ Misfits - been developing this SINCE I WAS 13 and um its Basically A Show Within A Show idea inspired by my past experiences with my former church and their Christmas musicals. TO UNDERSTAND THIS HERE IS SOME BACKSTORY: so when I was 10-13 I used to be in Christmas musicals staged by my sunday school. These musicals were Pilipino translations (the songs stayed English) of Typical American Children Christmas Musicals found on youtube (check out A Rocking Royal Christmas on YouTube yes we did a Filipino translation of that and I played the narrator when I was 11 I'm not kidding). When I was 13, I wanted to make something more resonant to the teen crowd as um to be quite honest the stuff my fellow Sunday school people were going through were Fucking Heavy and i wanted to feature that + I always knew that the Very Kiddy Musicals we set up were mainly a show for the parents and all that. I wanted a message of faith that actually resonated with my age group - and i developed it far enough that at 14, i was commisioned by my sunday school teachers to work with the church's orchestra in actually having this developed! But 15 happened and I started questioning a lot of the stuff my Sunday school and church does in terms of like politics, mental health stuff, sexuality and identity and pressuring me and my fellow teens to become something we were not, and it really felt alienating, almost as if I was simply putting on a show to appease all those that look to me and want me to be the Best of Young Christian Soldiers

So the concept of Misfits is um okay just read this ramble i wrote 3 years ago that is MUCH MORE COHERENT AND COHESIVE than the descriptions ive been whipping up for three hours now:

There is more to this like I have been developing this for 7 years now and there IS A TRACKLIST and each character has a storyline and a certain dynamic with all of the characters - like all are connected one way or another - but the basic gist is:

1.) The Narrators Put On A Show For The Religious Audience, then Start Crumbling at The Questions Presented and Prompted by The Misfits, but also Upon The Realization Of How Much Pressure They Are Under in Supporting A Narrative They Are Conditioned To Unquestionably Trust + the reveal of the secrets they hide and deny about themselves in order to seem as the Perfect Model Christian (sexuality, mental health issues, parental/pastoral pressures, abuse, psychological trauma as a result of Putting On The Show - the Time Travel element is not just there for the purposes of the show, it has a very important plot element too that connects the leader of the Narrators with the defacto leader of the Misfits) + how do they deal with these secrets being slowly revealed when They Know They Are Being Watched

2.) The Misfits Try To Navigate The Strange Musical Scenario and Why The Narrators Seem Preachy, While Also Being Forced to Address Their Pasts and Presents on why They Are Deemed "Misfits" in the First Place (outside of Christian conservatism, there exists undeniable concern for the wellbeing of the "Misfits" aka juvenile delinquency and poverty, mental health issues, and um the defacto leader being a Former Member of the Narrators wHICH WILL BECOME THE RUNNING THREAD TO THE PLOT TWIST which is why they were chosen in the first place), so basically The Misfits Are Challenged to Acknowledged that They Are Indeed Troubled (especially with carefully planted plot points and script prompts used by the Narrators to have these in the open) - but the original Producers Approved plotline has them Turn Back To God, but how can they do so if the problems they face are rooted in the current religious institutions in place? That is the question presented by the Misfits to the Narrators - which is what causes their show to fall apart

3.) Through Questioning The Mission They Were Given and the Environments That Mandate Them To Do So Despite Their Own Struggles (Narrators), and Through Questioning Themselves, Their Struggle, and The Acknowledgment That They Do Need Help (Misfits), the two groups face what I want to be the ultimate thesis question of the musical: when you grow up, where does one find hope? This is my attempt at breaking down the concept of religion because ultimately, people look to a higher figure in the dream of hope and the want for answers - thus, religion cannot ultimately be taken away from people who truly want and seek it. But we gotta deconstruct the narrative that hope is only limited to these religious institutions - and criticism must be relayed to the institutions that mandate that people serve them for the hope they supposedly provide but subsequently break because of prejudice, conservatism, and close-mindedness towards the people the Bible says to serve above all.

So yea the thesis slogan is basically: grow as you go, redefine your mission, and break the script if needed be.

Also it's pop rock, very inspired by SPRING AWAKENING, we are the tigers, and a dash or rent. The songs are English when They Are Part of the Producer's script, and Tagalog when They Are Not Part of the Script (like the characters being honest or unexpected rebuttals to the narrators' preaching moments or when the narrators themselves reveal their secrets). Otherwise, dialogue is taglish YAY

[luescris]

When I tell you I speedran this drawing I am telling you I drew this so fast it's crazy hence why it's semi messy but this is genuinely the best rise turtles I've ever drawn so I'm more than happy with how it came out aiahdhshshs

Credit goes to @somerandomdudelmao (wagh I hope it's okay that I did this/tagged you dhdh) for their apocalypse au Istg this part made me cry why would you do this to us. Why/lh/j

Anyway alternated after the cut wausghshs

[nezu-spiketown]

@toxic-spike-plumeria

Realizing that he had a show over the weekend, Piers decided that the offer for Wednesday would be most ideal. This somewhat limited the options, as weekdays sometimes had shorter hours.

Now came the real question: what the heck would be a good date idea? It was up to him to choose, which wasn’t a bad thing, but dating hadn’t really been on his radar until now, more or less. Not for lack of interest, but rather for lack of time and focus on such affairs. He had his job - both of them.. and then his sister, who was dearly important to him. Between all of this, plus the hours of practice even off the stage or the battle field, there wasn’t much free time to be had.

So here he was, mulling over ideas of good dates, thinking on how they both seemed to be. Music would be an obvious choice. Attending a show would be fun!

Yes!

But wait.. there’s not much communicating at a show.. too loud..

Maybe dinner first? Then a walk after the show?

This wasn’t as easy as he had thought..

There was also the matter of time. They both had jobs, so staying too late on a weekday wasn’t wise.

Underground cafe!

They hosted live bands Wednesday and Friday nights, plus it was a good spot to grab some food, and the coffee was phenomenal.

Yea!

Piers nodded a few times, and mulled over it again before grabbing the keys to the bike and the extra helmet. He was due to get her in a minute, so best be heading off to go pick her up. Hopefully she would like the nice night air and the plan for the underground cafe.

He parked the motorcycle outside of the address where Plumeria lived, and he headed up to knock on the door, waiting patiently for her reply.

[thcbcys]

♡ | @theshapeshiftingsunflower

Just because Tord had one functioning eye, didn't mean he wasn't always watching everything around him. So when he noticed a little girl stealing the chocolate bar from his pocket, he was quick to catch her. Thus, lead to the chase until he had finally grabbed the little girls arm to make her stop.

Golden eye's would glare down at the girl up until he spotted the tears and his face seemed to soften slightly, a bit taken back..He wasn't use to such emotions anymore, more so from a little child.

╰─ ✘ ❝ Ah- Hey, Its okay.. ❞ Tord would speak quickly, letting her go ❝ There's no need to cry...your not in trouble. You can have the bar..just ask next time ❞

[everybodyshusband]

i wanted to try my hand at ace ghouls again, thinking i'd write a little 400 word ficlet... 2.4k words and one very fried brain later, have some ace!dew/swiss :')

some disclaimers! firstly: it's implied that dew doesn't really have a name for his intermittent feelings of repulsion towards sex, so while i've tried to write him as somewhat grey-ace, if you think another term fits better, then that's totally fine too! and secondly: despite the fact that this is about ace ghouls, this fic is nsfw, so beware, haha!

Dew climbs into Swiss' lap, wrapping his arms around the multi ghoul's neck and immediately reconnecting their lips in a slow, deep kiss. He moans into it, filled with instant gratification as he feels the twitch of Swiss' clothed cock against his thigh.

The multi ghoul pulls away ever so slightly. "Fuck," he pants against Dew's lips. Despite the sinful nature of the scenario the two find themselves in, the way Swiss murmurs the word it is downright reverent. "Fuck, you're so hot." The last part is more of a desperate, aroused moan than a murmur, and Dew hums happily in response, taking the opportunity to kiss Swiss again and grind his hips down on his partner, making both of them moan into each other's mouth from the pleasure-filled sensation it evokes.

Swiss' hands roam over Dew's body as much as possible while the two of them are still blissfully attached at the lips. A hand comes up to hold Dew's cheek, brushing a thumb over the soft skin. At the same time, Swiss' other hand briefly passes over Dew's chest and gives one of his tits a squeeze so gentle it results in Swiss having to swallow the breathy moan Dew makes because of it. Far too soon, the multi ghoul is pulling his hands away from Dew's chest—but not before brushing a thumb over his clothed nipple, drawing yet another desperate groan from the fire ghoul, who rocks hips down against Swiss' arousal once more, eliciting another groan from the ghoul below him—and gripping onto his waist, using the size of his hands to his advantage, and guiding the movement of Dew's hips against the multi ghoul's.

Swiss' hands feel huge against his waist, and as he registers the feeling, Dew recalls a memory of Swiss brushing his fingers over the curve of it once.

(The multi ghoul had called his waist pretty; and on one notable occasion, as he was pounding into Dew from behind, hands gripping it tightly as he pulled Dew back to meet every thrust, he’d called it slutty.

"Oh, baby," he'd moaned out, wet sounds of flesh on flesh and deep groans of pleasure filling the room as Swiss filled Dew up so perfectly that the only sounds the fire ghoul could make were choked off little huffs of air that accompanied the rhythm of Swiss' thrusts as tears came to his eyes from the pleasure of it all. "You like it when I hold your little waist like this, huh? It's so slutty, baby," he'd whispered, draping his body over Dew's back, panting into Dew's ear. "Perfect for me to hold while I fuck you. And so small too, don't you think, baby?" He'd asked, stealthily reaching a hand around Dew's aforementioned waist to get a hand on his clit, flicking his fingers over it at a breakneck pace, ratcheting Dew impossibly closer to the edge. "It's a perfect." Thrust. "Slutty." Thrust. "Little." Thrust. "Fuck." Thrust. "Me." Thrust. "Waist."

Dew had wailed at that, clenching down on Swiss' cock—like a vice, no doubt—as his orgasm ripped through him mercilessly; the fire ghoul no longer able to stop himself from tipping over the edge at the combination of the multi ghoul's words, the fingers on his clit, and the cock buried so deep in his pussy he was starting to see stars. Dew had started rambling at that point, crying out nonsensical words, phrases, and pleas to "keep fucking going" as Swiss, acknowledging Dew's words, had continued his welcome assault on the fire ghoul's body.)

So Swiss' hands on his waist has the memories flooding back to him so strongly that Dew lets out an involuntary whimper, one so high-pitched and feminine that the second it leaves his mouth, his eyes are widening and he's clamping a horrified hand over his mouth. "F– fuck, I'm sorry," he starts. "I– I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, baby," Swiss immediately cuts him off with his own fantastically aroused moan. "You sound so sweet, droplet. Innocent, too." Swiss' grin is downright predatory, and Dew finds himself grinding his hips down in small circles, desperate for friction just from the hungry look in the multi ghoul's eyes. "Makes me wanna fuckin' devour you."

Dew is so aroused that the only friction he can find is the slide of his slick-soaked boxers against his cunt that’s so wet it’s slippery, and he quickly realises it's not enough. The fire ghoul moans again, high and dainty, just like the last time, feeling a fresh wave of arousal course through him, and by extension, a flood of it gushes onto his pants. He wouldn't be surprised if Swiss could feel it though both of their pants.

"Please," he whispers. "Wreck me, Swiss."

The multi ghoul licks his lips before diving into the boiling cavern that is Dew's mouth all over again, guiding Dew down onto the mattress below them at the same time. As Swiss does this, Dew gets a… a feeling. He's not sure what it is—or where it's coming from, for that matter—but he knows it's something familiar; something bad. Like a tension settling over his mind, as if he's upset or uncomfortable about something, but he just can't figure out what. It's not a pleasant feeling, he knows that much. It's one that invokes a shudder to roll through him as his back hits the mattress and Swiss starts to crawl on top of him. 

There must be something that shows on his face, or in the shudder his body gives, because all of a sudden, Swiss is pulling back, his face etched with concern. "Dew? Everything okay, baby?"

"Yeah, I'm– I'm fine," he assures his partner, but Swiss doesn't seem convinced, and if he's being entirely honest with himself, Dew's not sure he's convinced himself that he's fine either.

"Dew..." Swiss sits back on his haunches, and as much as Dew mourns the loss of touch, it's also strangely... comforting, somehow. And as much as Dew hates the fact that the lack of his partner's touch is the thing that's calming him down, he can't deny that it is helping that awful feeling to dissipate.

Still, he can't stop himself from feeling guilty that the absence of Swiss' touch is the thing calming him down, so he pushes past his feelings of discomfort and sits up so he's level with Swiss. He reaches an arm around until it's hooked around Swiss' neck, pulling him down to his level for a kiss, pleased when the multi ghoul returns it eagerly. "'M fine,” he mumbles into it, and he's surprised to find that it's true, he really does feel fine right now. Maybe the strange feeling was all a part of his imagination, after all. "Promise."

"Alright..." Swiss agrees. "But if something feels... off, you'll tell me, yeah?"

"Yeah, 'course," Dew agrees easily, immediately pulling Swiss back down into an all-consuming kiss that has both of them gasping in the other's mouth from the sheer heat and desperation coursing through it. As his lips slide against Swiss', Dew disregards the fact that he's already planning to ignore any possible negative feelings that arise during their endeavour. Swiss shouldn't have to deal with that, and Dew doesn't want Swiss to have to deal with it, or even feel the need to.

Soon enough, Swiss is lowering him back down and crawling on top of him all over again, reaching a hand out as they kiss to trace its way over Dew's body. He can't deny that, physically, it feels nice, good, even (especially when Swiss brushes his hand over his nipples, eliciting an involuntary gasp from Dew that Swiss swallows down greedily), but that feeling is back all over again, and Dew's starting to panic.

He manages to cover his quickened breathing by moaning softly into Swiss' ear as the multi ghoul ruts his cock against Dew's thigh, but the moment Swiss' hand begins making its way southwards, there's no hiding his worry. The minute it brushes over Dew's still-clothed thighs and drenched arousal, the fire ghoul lets out a yelp of panic and tries to scramble out from underneath his partner, his breaths turning shallow and erratic from the spark of touch through his clothes.

Dew curls himself into a ball, rocking back and forth, hyper-aware of Swiss, sitting only mere inches away from him, and the slide of his own slicked-up pants against his arousal. It makes him feel properly, physically sick. He knows he'd recognised the feeling, but he hadn't thought it was going to be this one; the one that makes his skin crawl with such ferocity he finds himself wanting to tear it off. To his shame, Dew still doesn't know what the feeling is, despite it having been a core part of his existence since being summoned. Sometimes, he can get through sex just fine, more than fine, even. But other times—like today—he can barely start anything before the awful feeling is clawing its way up his throat, threatening to make him scream the minute someone touches him in a suggestive manner. That's another thing, though; it doesn't always happen with another person. As much as he hates that this is happening while someone else is with him, Dew can't deny that Swiss' presence is reassuring. He's had occasions where this has happened in the privacy of his own room, late at night as he tries to relieve his aching arousal after a long, stressful day. It's never pleasant, but it's even worse when he's alone.

"Dew?" Swiss' voice floats through the messy haze that is Dew's brain and all the fire ghoul can get himself to do is shake his head in response. "Dew, baby, can you look at me?"

Swiss sounds so worried that Dew forces himself to raise his head, just enough for the multi ghoul's blurry form to swim into view through the tears clinging to his eyelashes.

"Hey, there you are, baby." Swiss smiles gently down at Dew as he speaks, the corners of his eyes crinkling from the amount of love his smile holds. He asks for permission to touch Dew, and the fire ghoul finds himself nodding, even if he's not sure if touch will make everything worse. As it is, Swiss only touches his upper arm, rubbing his bicep comfortingly, and it helps more than Dew expects it to. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Dew shakes his head, dropping it back down in between his knees. He's sure sure it will muffle his voice, but he's too focussed on the ever-present awful feeling still sparking its way through his body. "I- I don't know why this happens," he admits quietly, curling his arms around his knees even more tightly and squeezing his eyes shut. The darkness is as comforting as it is terrifying. "I don't- I don't really know what it is..."

"Hey, love, that's okay." The uncharacteristic pet name is enough to have Dew blinking his eyes open and raising his head from his knees; not enough to look at Swiss' face again, but it's progress, he tells himself. Swiss hovers a hand next to Dew's cheek, waiting for a nod from the fire ghoul. Instead of nodding, Dew leans his face into Swiss' palm himself.

The multi ghoul then tilts his palm so Dew has to look at his face. "Look at me, Dew. No, no. C'mon," he says, as Dew begins to let his eyes drift to the wall behind Swiss. "Look at me? Just for a moment? That's it." The pride for Dew in Swiss' voice as he does what his partner asks has the fire ghoul smiling again, just for a moment. "Listen to me, baby. It's okay that you don't know, Dew. It's fine, baby. I promise."

The sincerity in Swiss' voice has Dew tearing up. "Are- are you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure." Swiss says it with such confidence that Dew finds himself believing it too. "But what's important now is that we get you feeling less shitty than you do right now, yeah?"

Dew takes a deep breath. It shudders on the inhale and rushes out far too quickly on the exhale, but he's made an attempt, and he's sure that counts for something. He nods. “Yeah, that– that’d be nice. Please.”

Swiss adjusts the hand on Dew’s bicep and squeezes reassuringly. “What can I do to help, baby?”

“I– I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe just… hold me?” He speaks the request quietly, almost shamefully. And he’s so tense it hurts.“Not– not anything more than that, though. Just– just, uhh…”

“Just some good ol’ fashioned cuddling?”

Almost immediately, Dew’s shoulders release their tension and his entire body sags with the relief it brings. “Please,” he nods.

Swiss moves around Dew to get to his other side, careful to keep a wide berth of the fire ghoul. Dew assumes it’s the multi ghoul’s attempt to not crowd him, and his heart swells with affection for his partner.

“You wanna get out of those clothes first? Get something less, uhhh… messy?” Swiss cringes at his own choice of wording, it’s kind of cute.

Dew shakes his head, and instead reaches his arms out for Swiss, opening and closing his hands as if he’s trying to grab the multi ghoul. He’s officially deemed words too hard for the rest of the evening, but he’s sure Swiss will understand.

“That’s fine too. We’ll just cuddle, then?” Swiss waits for Dew’s answering nod. “Perfect.” He positions them so Dew’s head is against Swiss’s chest, with Swiss’ broad arms holding the fire ghoul as close physically possible. Although the positioning of their embrace means that Dew can’t see Swiss’s face, he can still hear the soft smile on the multi ghoul’s lips as he speaks. “You tell me if this gets too much, okay?”

Dew nods against the fabric that he’s smushed his face into, and wiggles an arm out of the hug to stick a thumbs up in Swiss’ general direction. The vibrations of his partner’s answering chuckle echo through his own body in a way that shouldn’t feel nice or comforting in the slightest, and yet, somehow, it calms him down more than anything else has.

The awful feeling is still crawling its way all over his skin, but it’s lessened now that the cuddles have turned relatively innocent. Dew tries his best not to focus on it, and instead squeezes his arms tightly around Swiss and burrows even further into the multi ghoul’s hold. He breathes in Swiss’ scent, holding it in his lungs until it burns before releasing his breath and repeating the process over and over again. It helps. Everything about Swiss is helping, now that Dew thinks about it. Even his presence is surprisingly calming.

Again, it’s not as if the feeling—whatever it is—has gone away entirely, but Dew thinks that maybe, with Swiss here to help him, it might become more bearable.

also, this is kind of obvious but it deserves a disclaimer: don't do what dew did and brush off your own uncomfortable feelings for the sake of not wanting your partner to have to deal with it. it's not a particularly healthy mindset for either person involved, and in dew's case, brushing it off for swiss' sake only ending up making things worse for both of them later on.

[stunie]

HEY HEY hope ure doing good!! i saw u mentioning ume's silly shirts and it made me think of how ume would 100% be one of the guys who wears "I♥️MY GF" shirts or matching his and hers shirts with his s/o 😭😭 just ume and his silly tshirts is so cute

oh nia ): this. thinking about him all excited the night before his lil netflix date with you. he saw the shirts through the shop window earlier on his way home— and five minutes later, he was already out the door with the bags in his arms. he had his new outfit for tomorrow draped over his chair hours ago (he gets really excited for dates so he likes to prepare everything early), but he just can’t seem to stop looking at it. he keeps imagining how you’ll react— picturing the look on your face when you see the “i love my girlfriend!” in huge letters across the top. and… just maybe he could try and convince you to put a kiss mark on it too. the whole thing plays out in his head over and over until he’s finally falling asleep with a soft smile tugging at his lips, arms wrapped tightly around his pillow in hopes that tomorrow can come just one second faster.

[discoinfernos]

@doublejango re. AQUARIUM AFTER DARK

After all that's happened, Stolas didn't feel much up to a large event. He'd been prepared for a long night of scrolling on his phone, seeing well-to-do demons in fabulous suits and gowns, glittering red carpet photos, video documentation of the opulence from which he was now barred. Not that he minded terribly ; the very thought of having to rub elbows with those who had stood by all these years while he suffered in silence . . . No, he was better off as he was now.

For the most part.

It had come as a surprise when Blitz suggested he go to the aquarium. Stolas hadn't been there in ages, and he was fairly certain it was only open during the day. But the Imp had worn a secret, knowing smirk and so, despite his exhaustion and hesitance to appear in public, he'd gone.

The moment he arrived he was pulled inside by someone he didn't recognize and given a suit made of deep blue velvet inlaid with crystals, and a matching cape. The demon had winked and presented a card that said "ware thiz". Stolas almost laughed ; what in Hell was going on? But he smiled softly as he caressed the garment. It was less regal than what he would have worn before, but still suited to his tastes. Had Blitz really picked this out for him?

Now dressed, he left the lobby and followed the candlelit path to the Dome in search of their elusive host.

[z3vie]

( @candycandy00 ) CAKE MAKING — bake a cake beside corazon! you were wondering where he had gone when he wasn’t by your side that morning- not in his usual position (that consisted of draping a heavy arm over your middle and a leg over your own). so when he finally comes back home, cake ingredients in hand a big smile on his face, it all makes sense. the two of you spend the rest of your afternoon baking together, flour powdered over both your noses and a happy smile on each of your faces to pair with it.

[dragondrafts]

aahh hello! was really excited to find another heartsteel blog <3

ive come with a more angsty topic if you're comfy w it!

reader spending time trying to get aphelios out of his shell after finding out he'll lose his voice- (and possibly a part of after it all happens, procedure and such- taking care of him)

thank you! ^^

Hiiii thank you for the request, and I'm super happy to find fellow heartsteel fans!! I wasn't entirely clear on the prompt (and this ended up more fluffy than angsty until the end asgjhkgdh) but I hope you like this regardless ❤️

HEARTSTEEL Aphelios x Reader

♡ Prompt: Comfort and encouragement before (and a little bit of after) vocal chord surgery ♡ TW: none ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Aphelios was always a quiet, thoughtful person by nature- but learning that he may lose his voice, his central form of artistic expression, was devastating to his self-confidence, pushing him into a depressive self isolation lasting weeks

It was heartbreaking to see the brightness of his gentle face drained, the sparkle in his eyes turned from mischief to fear... so you were determined to help him through this

Phel could be very stubborn and moody, hiding himself under blankets and pillows and absolutely refusing to come out. But with lots of patience and the promise of chocolate you could coax him out

You started with inviting his sister Alune to sleepovers. Aphelios wouldn't be forced to leave the house, or his room if he didn't want to, but his sister was very good at bringing a smile or soft laugh out of him, even for just a little while

You also began to take him out on walks through the neighborhood. You pointed out the songs of native birds, shared a fresh orange carefully snatched off someone's tree, or often times just walked side by side in comfortable silence

One time, some days before the procedure, the two of you found yourselves in a grassy park to relax. Aphelios sat criss-cross with his back against a tree and you laid your head in his lap while he played music on low volume through a portable speaker

For just a moment, he forgot about his worries, his anxieties, his grief, and began to sing along softly to the music while slowly combing his fingers through your hair

You closed your eyes and listened quietly, leaving him room to have this intimate moment with his voice- what could be one of the last

As the song ended, Phel came back into the present and blinked, both flustered at his vulnerability and sad that this personal vessel of self expression would soon be gone, maybe forever- but gazing at your kind, relaxed face, he realized he could get through anything, as long as he had you by his side

Post-procedure:

Despite Aphelios' initial protest, you and Alune spoiled the hell out of him every moment after he woke up from the procedure

His bed was all set up with the softest pillows and blankets, all his favorite snacks and plenty of water next to the bed within arm's reach, and TV hooked up to every streaming service you could think of

Doctor's orders were to not speak at all for the first few days, so a notepad and pen were provided, and if he needed anything he could text Alune or your phone to get your attention

You gave him space to process things whenever he asked, but whenever you got the chance, you were by his side in bed, keeping him company, telling him about all the latest news, or cuddling and watching movies together

There were a few moments when you would be holding Phel in your arms, and you felt him shake subtly- he was stifling sobs into your shoulder

You laid there in silence, rubbing his back, being his rock while he grasped his fear and sadness

He would never admit it, but Aphelios would always be grateful for these moments you spent with him at his lowest

[mostboringcrossover]

Okay so I know I said I was going to draw it, but I'm in such a huge art block right now 😭. I hope this is okay in writing form and that I do Clora and your version of Sebastian Justice!

MC: Asher Bloomingdale

Year: 6th

Hair: Less saturated sky blue, side part, swooped over on the left. He's originally a brunette, but as his ancient magic developed, it changed his appearance.

Eyes: A teal-ish color as a result of his magic

House: Gryffindor

Scar: Right eye starting at his cheekbone, up his eye, and stopping right into his eyebrow.

The sound of quills scribbling and scratching against paper fileld the classroom as professor Hecat lectured the class the effects of a patronus spell on dementors. It was one of the more boring classes, but Asher found it more interesting than ever. Defense was practically his middle name, as he hated anything to do with attacking people. He didn't even like fighting ashwinders simply because they used dark spells (not to mention they were terrifying in large numbers). The boy continued to listen and write as quickly as he could, his handwriting on the parchment getting worse by the second. Of course, the bell just had to ring, loud and annoying in his ears. Asher stood up from his chair, adjusting his robes and stuffing his things back into his satchel. He was about to leave, when the glint of something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Upon further inspection, he discovered that it was a bracelet, gold beading with little white daisies. It was quite pretty. The boy looked up, noticing a girl about his age not too far from the desk. He quickly caught up to her, though not without stumbling over his feet first.

"Ah- E-Excuse me, miss?" Asher sputtered, tapping the girl on the shoulder to get her attention. She had blonde hair swept behind her shoulders, just past her shoulder blades, blue eyes, a mole here and there, and a smile sweeter than sugar. Now, this may lead one to believe Asher had fallen in love, which he hadn't of course, Asher had no interest in girls, but this one struck him as someone who wouldn't belittle him.

"Was there something you needed?" The girl asked, tilting her head a bit in confusion. Asher then shook his head, realizing that he had been far too quiet. He held out the bracelet to her.

"S-sorry! Uhm- Did you happen to leave this at your desk? It's... awfully pretty and- it'd be a shame if you left it." Asher explained, feeling awkwardly close, but still too far away from the girl. He expected some type of strange reaction from her, but it seemed like she didn't much care about the scare thay dug through the right dlside of his face, or even the peculiar color of his hair. She just looked at him with a grateful smile.

"Oh! Thank you, I think that is mine- Oh, it must've slipped off my wrist again..." The girl took the bracelet from Asher and slipped it back onto her wrist, seeming to examine it to make sure none of the beads had fallen off. Just before Asher could respond, he heard a voice call from the doorway of the classroom. It was a voice he recognized... a voice he never thought he'd hear again.

"Clora?" Sebastian called out, looking around the classroom before spotting her with Asher. A strange look washed over his face at the sight if the two together. He stepped over quickly, his presence already imposing on the young Gryffindor. "There you are, darling, I've been waiting for you." Sebastian said, putting an emphasis on the pet name as he glanced over at Asher, who just looked bewildered.

Asher felt his heart stop as Sebastian came over, he stared in shock, standing so still one would think he was petrified. 'Why is he here?' 'How is he out?' were the only thoughts passing through Ashers mind. He could tell the girl, who he now recognized as Clora, was saying something to Sebastain, but the only thing he could focus on was Sebastian standing right there. The person who he clearly remembered turning into Azkaban.

"I'll be right out, I just need to say thank you to-" As Clora turned her head back to look at Asher, she stopped suddenly. Asher had... dissapeared? Where had he gone?

Meanwhile, Asher was running down the halls, his mind frantic. He stopped in the middle of the DADA tower, slumping against one of the staircase walls as he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't believe it. If Sebastian wasn't in prison, then how did he get out? Everything felt off from the moment Asher woke up in his dormitory that morning. The school felt different. That Sebastian wasn't his, so that meant none of the other classmates were his either. Was this some parallel universe? How did Asher get here? Was his ancient magic acting up again? Most importantly: how was he going to get home?

Clora belongs to: @choccy-milky