#but i used grammarly

[zae-heeyyy]

Seraphic

Summary: You are Arthur's angel. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,222 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: Whew 😅 I'm a little nervous to post this one. 🫣 Been sitting on it for a while (no pun intended) I've read and reread it a million times, and I'm ready to share. Also, we're pretending like Arthur's tent actually closes. Anyway thanks for reading!

Seraphic: something angelic or celestial in nature, often suggesting purity, beauty, or holiness.

By 1 a.m., the sounds of camp had reduced to the songs of crickets and the crackle of the fire. While everybody else slept, you waited up for Arthur, reading a book under lantern light in his tent. He arrived eventually, keeping his greeting short and joining you on his cot with slouched shoulders, seemingly exhausted. When he took his hat off, the grimace on his face became all the more apparent. His expression and tense body language told you all you needed to know; whatever happened out there wasn't good.

You handed him a match and a cigarette from his nightstand, and he thanked you with a nod. Using the heel of his boot, he struck the match and lit the cigarette, holding it with his thumb and index fingers. Flickering lantern light and the burning ember tip illuminated his bruised knuckles.

"Should I ask?" You traced a gentle finger over the bruises, and he shook his head.

"Best not," he replied, exhaling a ribbon of smoke.

"Well, I'm glad you're still in one piece," you said, looking him over. His shirt had seen cleaner, less wrinkled days, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. "Well, mostly in one piece."

He let out a gust of air, a failed attempt at a laugh, before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning.

"Headache?" you asked, and he confirmed. The discomfort came with the life he lived. Loud gunfire, the rush of adrenaline, and focusing on his shots all combined to leave him in pain afterward. You exited the tent momentarily and returned with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and a bottle of miracle tonic.

"Here—for your head." He took the medicine and snuffed his cigarette. Rejoining him, you sat on the cot and dabbed his face with the wet cloth, wiping away dirt and sweat. A soft kiss on his temple prompted him to lean into you, the tension finally dissipating. You wrapped your arms around his big frame and held him close. Obviously, he was your safe space, but oh—were you his. Eyes shut, he rested his head on your bosom.

Arthur found comfort in his typical role as protector and provider. But in these moments, when roles faded, he could feel the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders—a crushing weight he didn't even realize he was carrying. Being with you like this made him wonder if heaven was real because you were godsent.

To Arthur's dismay, you unraveled yourself from him to tie the tent flap closed, sealing the two of you away in the dark. Walking between his legs, you untied his neckerchief and dusted his soiled shirt.

"—Needs a wash. Your blood or someone else's?" you questioned, fingers undoing the top button.

"Not mine," he answered. Peeling the shirt off and tossing it aside, you studied him for a second time tonight. He'd seemed more relaxed than when he arrived, but his brow stayed brooding. Still positioned with his legs on either side of you, you caressed his face, one of your thumbs stroking the hairless scar on his chin.

"What else can I do?"

"You done enough; I'm fine." He gave your hand on his face a reassuring squeeze.

Leaning forward, you kissed him tenderly. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you nearer until your foreheads touched. You spoke low against his mouth, a playful grin forming on yours.

"You gotta stop getting yourself into so much trouble, Arthur Morgan."

Your demand was met with a chuckle, and he replied, "I'll do my best, darlin'." You peppered his lips with loving, tender kisses, making him smile against them and squeeze you tighter in a hug. You would do just about anything to see that man smile at you the way he did, all soft and endearing.

Your kisses subsided, but Arthur's affectionate gaze stayed fixed on you. The slight smile on his face had straightened, his expression mirroring the intensity of the one he wore when he first confessed his love for you.

"Got that look on your face," you told him, and he just blinked slowly, awestruck. Though he often swore he was a man of few words, he could fill volumes with his devotion for you. You loved it when he got like that, entranced and overwhelmed with love.

The way he watched you set a fire within you that warmed the most intimate parts of your being. He was surprised when you let yourself fall heavily into him, trying to get as close as possible. Maybe he was going to say something or make a noise, but he didn't have the time before your mouth was on his again, your tongue pushing through his lips to tangle with his. You only pulled away when you needed to breathe.

Instead of pressing your lips to his once more, you dropped to your knees in front of him. Eyes widening, he tried to bring you back up to your feet, shaking his head, once again astounded by you.

"Sweetheart—"

Still on your knees, you patted his cheek and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Shhh, let me take care of you, Arthur." His hand found yours on his face, and he turned to kiss it, nodding placidly. Both of you managed to keep your volume low as you helped him strip down to his union suit. You began working at the buttons of his neckline, doing more ripping than unbuttoning, shoving the fabric down his shoulders.

As more clothing fell away, you trailed sweet kisses down his abdomen. At the same time, his hands roamed wherever they could. The rough pads of his fingers lightly tracing your skin mirrored a faint electric charge. Despite being a brute of an outlaw, he was overly careful with his hands when it came to you; your body was fine china and deserved to be treated as such. Goosebumps formed in a wake left by his touch.

As you kissed down the trail of hair under his belly button, his rapid breathing hitched, and the bulge between his legs strained against the flannel fabric, begging to be unleashed. You tried to find his eyes as you groped him through the underwear, but his head was tipped back, his mouth agape.

"Look at me." You whispered, and he snapped to attention like a soldier following commands. Eyes locked on his, you unclasped the last button, and his length sprung free, the pink head of his cock primed with anticipation. A teasing laugh crept up within you as you trailed soft kisses from the base of his shaft and left one long lingering peck on the tip. The loud, rhythmic thumping of his heart was music to your ears. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you took his entire length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper until your nose touched the curly hairs at the base.

Then he couldn't hold it in anymore; a deep, guttural groan escaped him.

Your mouth was the warmest, most intoxicating blanket he'd ever been wrapped in, and he never wanted to leave. He gaped at you, seeing your mouth full of him, his pupils dilated with pure lust. The blunt tip of his cock pressed to the back of your throat, making it constrict around him. His whole body shuddered.

"Look whatchu' do to me, woman," he rattled, tangling his hands in your hair. Despite his eagerness, you withdrew from his aching sex, a string of saliva joining your lips to him. Something reminiscent of a whine exited him when you stepped away, but his open mouth fell shut at the sight of your bloomers slipping down your legs. You kissed him, savoring the salty, bitter taste of his arousal mixed with the tobacco and herbs of his mouth.

"Lay back," you murmured in his ear. Obeying your command once again, he let out a grunt as he felt your weight on top of him. You straddled him, and he held you up, his fingers digging firmly into your sides. Bending at the waist, you kissed longingly, your hips undulating against his. He pulled your nightgown up around your midriff, one of his hands gripping the flesh of your ass while the other one went between your legs. His index finger sank painstakingly into your weeping cunt, then brushed over your clit, making you shiver. He raised himself on his elbows, reaching for the hem of your sleep dress.

"Take this off; let me see you." You raised your arms and let him yank the garment away, leaving you completely exposed on top of him. "Beautiful," he breathed, using the back of his hand to graze your skin. Breathy sighs escaped you as he traced delicate circles around your nipples. His eyes bored into you, absorbing every detail like you were the most captivating thing that ever lived. Hyperfocused on your body, he fondled your breasts before gliding his hands down your torso, ogling, taking all of you in.

Freezing, his stare intensified as you massaged the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. Touching his lips to yours, you pushed him into your wet folds. Neither of you could contain the sounds building with you. He split you open, stretching you, making room for him, filling you. You held yourself up with your hands braced on his chest, but you went weak as he bottomed out within you, brushing against that deep, tender spot. You would've fallen if he wasn't there to hold you up, a thought mirroring one he had about you so often.

"I got you," he whispered into your ear. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to snap his hips up into you, the warm embrace of your center clearing his mind and driving him mad all the same. Finally, you started to ride, surging and sinking into him. He was a simple, agnostic man, but being with you like this made him believe in all the theocracy of angels, soulmates, and divine intervention. This was his bliss. This was his heaven, and you were his seraph. He'd go through hell every day if it meant coming home to this—to you. Hypnotized in the rhythm of you, a new thought crossed his mind every time you bounced.

Up.

She's so goddamn beautiful.

Down.

So perfect.

Up.

My girl.

Down.

My girl, my girl, my girl, my girl.

Up.

My angel.

Down.

I love her so much.

Up.

So wet.

Down

So warm.

Up.

So danm tight.

Down.

Shit.

And before you could come back up again, he squeezed his eyes shut, halting your hips with all the strength he could muster, fighting the damn-near irresistible urge to cum inside of you. Sweat had built up on his brow, and his stomach rose and fell quickly with each panting breath. You folded to kiss him, your hard nipples grazing against his chest.

"It's okay," you whispered, patting his face and grinding antagonizingly slow against him. You wanted him—needed him— to come undone for you. With that goal in mind, you picked up the pace and rolled your hips relentlessly, moaning your every thought into his ear.

"You feel so good inside of me."

"I need you."

"I love you."

Your climax was building fast, and you reached to give relief to that sensitive bundle of nerves atop your center. Arthur pushed your hand away swiftly, replacing it with his own. Always a giver, he'd do anything to feel useful while you were treating him like royalty.

While one hand worked your clit, his other gripped the meat of your hip, rocking you in time with his upward thrusts. His head tipped and hit the pillow, and you could feel his thighs tensing and shaking beneath you. Lips parted, he stared up at you. You felt him twitch inside you, and his brow finally relaxed.

That did it for you.

You were wordless as your orgasm ripped through you, your head swirling, and your veins on fire. Arthur's guiding hand on your hip didn't stop, and he fucked you through your climax. Hugging your body close and nuzzling his face into your neck, he growled as he painted your inner core with his own release. You stayed like that, glued to each other as you came down from your highs.

"You're too good for me," he finally said. You clasped a hand into his, kissing the long-forgotten bruises on his knuckles.

"Shut up." You responded, and he didn't say another self-deprecating word. It was the least he could do.

You cleaned up and redressed, nestling into the small, one-man cot. Finally settled for the night, you resorted to your regular bedtime positions: your head on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you, your legs tangled in one another's.

He rose before you in the morning, perching himself on the cot's edge while you slept behind him. He wrote in his journal, his thumb leaving a smudge on the page:

"For a long time, I believed I could not live a bad life and expect good things to happen to me. Yet somehow, this woman of pure goodness entered my life, and it is clear now that I have been a fool."

[sickwhispers]

PLAYING FAVORITES

Pairing: Dandy x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: no warnings surprising, are you guys shocked

Type: headcanons + drabble

It's no secret that he picks favorites

"Dandy, I appreciate the sentiment but..." you stare at the medkit in your hands, a confused look on your face as you attempt to understand just why he had given it to you. You definitely didn't need it, and you certainly had all your hearts intact. The only wound you had received during the last floor you had ventured into was a tiny scratch you had made yourself. Which had been a complete accident when you found yourself tripping over a capsule and onto the floor. "I don't need this..."

"Nonsense! Take it, free of charge! We don't want our greatest friend dying any time soon, do we?" He winked, nudging the first aid further into you. It seemed like he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Hey, uh- I need one too." Oh god, Vee looked terrible. Normally, only one of her antennas would be bent. But, this time, it had looked like a twisted had tried to forcefully rip the other one off her head. And when that didn't work, decided to scrunch it up and tug at it until sparks came flying out of its base. The left side of her screen had been cracked, a long line running down from top to bottom with tiny strands breaking off near the edge. Just one look at her and it was almost obvious that she had lost a heart, and probably would've lost the last one had she not gotten into the elevator on time.

Dandy took one look at her, his smile never wavering as he spoke. Although, if you looked close enough, you could see the strain behind it. "Two hundred tapes."

Safe to say the others would catch onto this little trend after a while

He pretended he wasn't biased when it came to you

Acting dumb like there was no difference in the way he treated you, compared to how he treated everyone else

Sure, he would smile and wave, act nice just to keep the tapes rolling in

He was still their friend, he couldn't just be mean

But, he couldn't doubt how special you were compared to them

Day one he was practically at your beck and call, even before everything had turned to ruin

He knew things were different now, he knew you probably wouldn't let him do all the things he used to back when you didn't have to worry about the possibility of having some corrupted version of your friends tear you to pieces

But, he could still dream, couldn't he?

He couldn't help but indulge in fantasies every now and then

Letting his head rest in his hands as he watched you interact with the others

Sure, he would've preferred if your attention was on him

But, he could pretend he didn't mind sharing

Although, sometimes he wasn't so good at it

He'd miss the days when you'd let him just lay beside you

His head on your stomach as he'd pick at the floor beneath you both, mindlessly staring up at you in an almost dazed like look

The others used to tease him about it

About how well known his feelings for you were, and yet he never wanted to admit it

After all, what would happen if he did?

There were risks he had to consider when it came to telling you how he felt

And he never liked any of them

He almost preferred keeping them a secret, letting them fester inside until they were practically pouring out of every crevice in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane

Maybe you were the reason he hadn't gone crazy yet

But, if you kept your attention straying from him for a bit too long, there's a good chance he might just lose it

Make sure to talk to him every round

Say hello, tell him about the twisteds you encountered, share how you made a mistake when extracting ichor from a machine and almost run into a wall while trying to hide

Anything. Just anything.

He needs it.

[tunemyart]

Literally: what.

[monpalace]

LEGEND

Legend is reasonable, he’d consider, just not when he's presented with (almost) constant questions and concerns regarding his relationship status with his closest friend.

Any question along the lines of “so when’d you two start dating,” are quickly met with a snappy response with little second thought. “I saw you with your significant other not too long ago,” and any further ramblings are quickly put to an end when he sends a withering gaze their way.

At some point, Legend becomes tired of comments regarding his relationship with you. If it weren't for his aversion to dark magic, he’d drown himself in a curse of some sort that stopped any related questions entirely.

He’s never turned down acts of reassurance from your side. Whether they are words of affirmation or acts of affection, he never fails to be less inconvenienced about the event when you intervene.

Legend tends to hold his sharp tongue when you're around. He’s never rude to you, or (sometimes) to the other Links, when you're around because he always wants to be a better version of himself when you're around.

That doesn't mean he's good at biting his tongue.

He’s very much susceptible to rolling his eyes, groaning, and telling someone to shut up with a scoff. Legend might wind it down even further with a “please leave us alone,” or “can you just drop it,” if you don't seem pleased by his responses.

Despite his very obvious annoyance when it comes to misinterpretations of his relationship, Legend is quick to dispel any doubts you may have in your mind.

“Would you rather I tone down on the affection? I—” Absolutely not. You’re the only person he feels comfortable with when it comes to anything tactile; he's so used to it now, he’d rather die than lose it all because of some stupid rumor.

“Maybe we shouldn't share food or drinks anymore. It sends the wrong idea.” Okay? Who cares about an indirect kiss? What even is it? You either kiss or you don't. Besides, you have food that he wants to steal (or, he has food he wants you to try), where's the issue with that? Is sharing not caring?

One way or another, Legend is one of the less tolerant Links when it comes to his platonic relationship being taken the wrong way, only being rivaled by Wind and Four’s Blue.

“My Great Goddesses,” Legend groans under his breath. He folds his hands on the side of his temple, the beginnings of a headache working its way into his mind the longer he (forcibly) hears the group of older women coo over his supposed relationship. “Make them stop.”

A swift kick under the tavern table makes Legend’s complaints come to an end. The sharp glance you sent him reels him back in like a dog on a leash.

“Sorry,” he mutters just barely under his breath.

You laugh quietly, just barely audible over the afternoon rush. “I was trying to tell you to go after them,” you hum in an equally low voice. “I’m honestly a little tired of it too.”

“Seriously?”

“Naturally.”

There's a giddy feeling that fills Legend as he stands. It might have been the slight buzz that came with his drinks, or the more natural feeling that was released when he realized he wouldn't have to be nice anymore, but the feeling is there nevertheless.

“Will you cover my part of the bill if I manage to do it without making them leave?”

“Half.”

“Three-quarters.”

“Twenty-five percent.”

“You don’t love me anymore?”

Taking out your wallet, you shake your head at his antics while putting rupees on the table. “You forget the last time you pulled something like this; but I do love you, yes.”

“I love you too, then,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek with a pat on your arm. “I’ll be sure to pay you back— eventually.”

TWILIGHT

This is not the first time he's been in a situation like this, shockingly. He and Ilia went through this same scenario with the villagers of Ordon, but it's the same twenty people with the same two rumors, so everything was squashed between them rather quickly.

But this isn't Ordon. It’s not the same twenty people; it’s everyone in different eras revolving endlessly.

Yet, Twilight doesn't mind.

Every question and comment is easily passed off with “oh, we’re just friends,” or “oh, no! I don’t see them that way,” with a light laugh.

Tactile responses such as hugs, kisses (to the forehead, cheek, hand, wrist), and hand holding are natural to Twilight. He never oversteps his boundaries (whether they're set or not), so his old habits are always fitted for them.

Being called your boyfriend be damned, Twilight is clingy. He's a wolf at heart, so being around those he considers to be a part of his clan. He gently pulls you out of the way from oncoming carriages with an arm around your waist, rests his chin on your shoulder or head while listening to whatever you’re rambling on about, and presses a kiss on your cheek in greeting and goodbye— but it's still strictly platonic.

Twilight holds more than enough respect to shut down anything like “I bet your wedding will be so beautiful,” and “your children will be the prettiest,” for the both of you. “We already agreed we’d be each other's mate of honor,” and “I already told them they’d be the godparent for my kids if I have any,” are almost always his responses.

Unlike Legend, Twilight genuinely finds it amusing everytime someone gets the wrong idea. He finds it easy to joke about when the person is gone or hours after the fact, but he will stop if he finds you don't find it as funny as him.

If, on the off-chance, you both visit Ordon (assuming you aren't from there), more rumors would pop up once more. Are you another Ilia? How long have you known Link? Do you treat him well, at least? Is that a ring on your finger? Are you wearing his pelt? When's the wedding?

Twilight is quicker to cut those off at the source before they spiral. No, he's known you as a friend for a long while (at least to him) and you’ve just so happened to grow close, he’d like to think you do, it's a family heirloom, and you just wanted to see the appeal in why he wore it all the time— now, please. Stop.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s not?”

“No..”

“Yeah, alright.”

Twilight hides from the barely cracked door, hands cupped over the lower half of his face to muffle his laughter.

He can understand where the inn owner might have gotten the idea that the two of you were an item.

Upon first entering the establishment, he was pushing himself against you as though you shared the same body (the result of paranoia following a run-in with a particularly strong group of poes). He had insisted you get one room instead of two before you claimed one bed was fine when told there was no room available with two.

He supposes the final nail in the coffin would’ve been when he dropped his wallet on the counter when you started rummaging to get out your own, dragging you up their stairs once the key was dropped into his hand.

Twilight can see the beginnings of your laughter work its way through your body and face as you close the door. The owner’s inconvenienced “try not to be too loud; I’d like to not lose any more customers because of pairs like you,” rattling around in your minds when he stopped by to return Twilight's large pouch.

“It’s still not funny,” you say, trying to steal yourself as you stumble back to the bed. “It— it won’t. It’s mean.”

Denial and the urge to be the bigger person was slowly diminishing within you. It was undeniable.

Twilight joins you on the bed, shifting and ignoring the burning pain from his scrapes as you both become comfortable. The cramping he’d feel during the night was inevitable, but he could withstand it knowing he was right.

[etdraconis]

( my english professor sent out an email reminding us that using ai for our paper is considered plagiarism, and said that included using grammarly. miss ma'am. do you know how many spelling and grammatical errors i will have without grammarly??? fuck off lmao )

[satindregs]

y’all think Kratos ever misses his mom? like ik spartan life was tough, even for a child, and parents were encouraged to help w toughening up their kids, but Kratos had to learn to be soft w his family from somewhere right?

we don’t know(I don’t think) how Kratos feels about his mother, but he didn't seem to celebrate her death or act like he was able to rest easier after she died in Ghost of Sparta, I think it was. Like ik, he was on his way to find his potentially-dead brother but throw me a bone here.

And ik ppl don't have to grow up around gentle environments, or more specifically kind parents, to be able to be gentle themselves, but I mean shit it helps.

I think someone who is as “accustomed” to violence as Kratos is/was needs a reference when he wants to be kind or sweet or loving. (Ik he isn't all rough edges but like. Yk. Kratos.) And I think his mother could be who he channeled when he would greet Calliope or bond with Lysandra (YES GREEK ERA KRATOSS).

I just found out Kratos had to kill Callisto. Twice. Anyway ^v^ love to hear yalls thoughts but uh. I'm gonna cut this post short lolol

[sophiethewitch1]

gang i geniunely hate rereading my stuff. if any good samaritan out there would like to tell me whether reader was still wearing dick's shirt at the end of chapter 6 it would be much appreciated and ill send you like. a spoiler or answer a question for you or something please i really really dont wanna do it 🙏🙏

[yngai]

as discovered by me & @aldereign if you use grammarly for your writing, ai detectors like quillbot will flag your words as ai because, well, grammarly advertises itself as an ai driven writing assistant

[hahskeleton]

Hey... Had a question since you've been writing quite a lot :0

What writing program do you use (if you use any specific other than MS Word or Docs)? I want to try my hand at writing too :D

HIIIII ANNEE!! :DDDD

I use Microsoft word to write everything I write 😃

I would LOVE to see what you write!! Lmk what you’re writing!!

[sad-zombie-boy]

I’ve been wanting to get back into writing for a while and Outlast Trials have given me some inspo. This will be starting mid story about how my trials oc lost his leg, plus some extra. It takes place in Grind the Bad Apples.

Tw for violence

"Left behind by my goddamn teammates with that bitch behind me. No one had even bothered to help me up after the grinder knocked me over," Al thinks, now soaked to the bone. Just as he returns to his feet, he's shoved back down. Left spluttering as the nasty ride water enters his mouth and nose. A large, gloved hand grabs his ankle before he can attempt to get up. 

"Give him the goose grease, Daddy!" Gooseberry shouts as she plunges the drill into his right calf. Al cries out in pain; he can feel the spinning drill tearing at muscle.  He attempts to crawl away, only for the woman to drag him closer by the drill in his leg. Swinging his left leg to make it difficult for her to grab, his eyes land on a brick just out of reach. Determined not to die, he fights back the bile burning his throat. If he could just grab this brick he could escape, he could survive. Black creeps into his vision at the sound and feel of the still-rotating drill tearing through his flesh when he lunges. As his fingers brush against it he's pulled back once more. Grabbing onto the ledge just outside of the water to attempt distance from Gooseberry. The combination of the spinning drill and the tugging caused it to drag down his calf, further tearing it. Growing lightheaded from the pain and unable to take a deep breath, Al begins to panic. Water clouds his vision as with each move splashes more into his face. 

"It's best to just let him finish." Gooseberry's voice is sickly sweet, almost mockingly so. Steeling himself for the pain, Al lunges forward again. The coppery scent of blood fills his nose as the drill continues to rip his leg. His eyes threaten to roll back, and his vision goes black momentarily. A sense of relief washes through him as his fingers wrap around the brick; he almost can't believe it. With no time to waste, he twists his body, chucking it full force into Mother Gooseberry's face. 

"Nasty little brat!" she hollers, pulling the drill out of Al's leg as she stumbles back. Quickly, Al plunges the adrenaline into his arm. The drug allowed him to ignore the pain enough to get up and run. The TVs all around showed the shuttle countdown; he had 40 seconds to make it back. 

He does so with 5 seconds to spare, grabbing the bottle near the shuttle.

"You motherfuckers, you left me to die!" He screams as he grabs his closest teammate by the front of his shirt. All three were surprised to see him alive. Still hopped up on the adrenaline, Al punches him in the jaw. Another teammate attempts to grab him, but he smashes the bottle he grabbed across the woman's head. This causes her to stumble and trip over a shuttle chair. Burying the jagged remains into the neck of the man he was holding. Closing his eyes as the warm blood sprays on his face. As it's pulled out, the man grasps his neck, gurgling as he distances himself from Al's rampage. The second woman wraps her arms around him in an attempt to restrain him. Enraged he jerks his head back hard enough to break her nose. Grabbing her arm to pull her back to throw a punch. The pain in his leg comes back as the adrenaline begins to fade. His leg buckles, and unable to stand any longer he drags the woman to the floor with him. Using the momentum of her fall to bury the bottle into her stomach. Before he can do any more damage, smoke fills the shuttle, leaving everyone inside unconscious. 

[prongsfish]

thanks grammarly, that's wonderful, how exciting! (i say, tearing my own hair out)

[sxilor-1010]

I'll write more soon, but a little sneak peek for the next Sentient!Ellis AU drabble.

[tojis-gf]

How do you do the gradient text in your pinned post? It’s really cute and I have no idea how to do it 🫠💕

hi anon!!! okie so im gonna try to be as thorough as possible, dis is really ez too btw (if on mobile, you may have to use browser mode)

so first, i use dis website right here

n pretty much, what u do is paste or type whatever txt u want here:

n then choose which kind of gradient u want, i typically do horizontal but its totally up to preference : ) then u pick ur colors using the hexcodes (if u tryna create like a certain palette from an image, use dis website click dis), and font for me i dont usually change, if i do its usually arial, i change the size tho depending on how big/important the txt is ! and for bold/italic, thats something u can always edit using the tumblr editor like how u would normally bold and italicize any other txt : )

okie so i picked my colors n stuff n now what ur gonna wanna do is copy the html code (bottom box) if u wanna make the bottom box bigger, just drag the bottom right corner out : )

next thing ur gonna wanna do is go to tumblr n go to whatever post/create a new post and click the gear in the top right hand corner of da post n then scroll all the way down to the bottom and change rich text -> html.

so for this one, bc i'm doing a header for this ex, between the h1s, im just gonna paste the html txt from the gradient website. n honestly, if u wanna paste the text after the header, or u dont want a header txt at all u can just copy the html code into the html editor and it should be fine !

and this should be ur end result ! (i made the txt smaller in tumblr editor lol

[thegoldencontracts]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 200 FOLLOWERS TINA YOU DESERVE IT 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

For the event...

When Jovie is having a bad time sleeping, she goes all the way to Azul's room and falls on his bed. It pretty much always end up with him waking up, asking her if they're having difficulty sleeping and getting a nod as a response. He just tells her to come under the blanket so they cuddle to sleep together.

TYYYY JOVIEEE RAGHHHH YOU PROBABLY HAVE MORE THAN THAT ALREADY BUT EITHER WAY hope you get the success you deserve your art is scrumptious <3

This is for the 200 follower event, check it out if you're interested!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a cold night. Azul didn't mind the cold. He didn't mind warmth, either.

The warmth to which he awoke, however, was particularly pleasant. Comforting. The familiar sight of brown hair and barely opened eyes which Azul's underperforming eyes could barely make out revealed his companion to be none other than Jovie.

"Urnghhh…" They said in a daze, eyes gradually fluttering open to meet Azul's.

"You're having trouble sleeping, are you not?"

A slow, tired nod. Azul could faintly make out bags underneath her eyes.

He was tired, too. The past week had been filled with issues pertaining to Finals' - The pain of scoring less than Riddle, the mountain of contracts to fulfill, not to mention how hectic things had been while tending to his duties as housewarden.

Azul wanted to sleep. And he certainly couldn't do that when Jovie - his love, though to say such a thing aloud would be rather mortifying - was so clearly uncomfortable.

"Come here," he said blearily, holding out the blanket. She took a second to register the invitation before rolling in.

"Thanks," they said. But as her arms wrapped around his, Azul couldn't help but think he should've been the one thanking her.

[oozebrain]

Anti Grammarly club. Revel in your own unique writing style.

[ssparksflyy]

am i the only one who whenever im tryna spell hephaestus i just put something like hephasus and let grammarly take the wheel