#cupid soft icons

[lil-liaa]

ᶓིྀᶔ 𝓵𝐢𝐟𝐞'𝐬 a 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐥 of 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

⁺ ⠀𑁍 ⠀ ⁺⠀𝐌𝐲 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 and wine, 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 and thyme ᥩ ᪲ ´ ᩳ `） ֵ݃𓇼ֵ݃ 𔘓ུ𐇽

➽──@hyelita's 𝐆𝐢𝐟♡𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞────❥

[nyugore]

shez so nice

[mochilly]

(💌) ᵎᵎ CUPID PNG + EDITS . ୨୧

— Like or reblog if saving/using .

[druh19]

༝ Ever After High Icon |like and reblog if saved|

[kiwicidios]

˖ 🐾🍰 ׁ 𝅼 ˚ ꒰͜͡⠀⠀

[luluy33art]

Cupid Enid AU in tiktok

[wonyounglogy]

장원영 <3 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ . . . . . ◟੭. jang wonyoung

[worldgirls]

𓏲 ˒ saena icons!

please like/reblog if you use or save!!!

[unt1tled]

aran

credit when using

[somenteniki]

┼╌ׄ╌ׄ╌⿻࣪࣪͜🍰 ◖ ⫿۪۪⃕🫖·𖧹ᜓ᭢𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎 𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑛 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠

🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( fifth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mommy kink , drug + alcohol usage , smut drabble , submissive toji , soft sex , profanity

୨୧˚ an; guys… i don’t know what took over me when i wrote this one….im sorry ,, also yes drabble time, you all knew this would happen eventually don’t act surprised 🙄🙄🙄

come over and show me then

The last message Toji had sent you. He was bold, heart racing just the slightest bit when he thumbed that frightening, little arrow icon to send a text that would most likely change his whole relationship chemistry with you. You, the kind hearted woman who graced him with your undying benevolence and wealth. 

You, the woman Toji called mommy not even twelve hours ago during an idiotic, drunken stupor. 

You, the woman who graced his bed, peering up to him with the softest gaze Toji’d ever been observed with. It was an odd sight–you splayed on his mattress. Dawning a lavish top; silken, Toji absentmindedly recognizes the fabric ( then proceeds to grimace at the fact that he can actually discern between different breeds of fabric. Your lifestyle was rubbing off on him ) and thinks you look out of place. An expensive jewel among the dank cave of his shoddy bedroom.  

Toji crawls in after you, winding up your side, clinging akin to a baby koala bear. Still, he doesn’t speak, preferring to let the sounds of sheets sliding against each other fill the gaps of silence. You take his hulking body in those loving arms and break the quiet. “I’m not buying you for the night.” You cradle his cheek; you make him look up to you and Toji nods under your hand. “You know that, right?”

He nods again. “Sure,” and for once, it comes out without a modicum of sarcasm. Because Toji believes it when you tell him that you’re not looking to gain access to his body through flimsy transactions. Your sincerity is displayed through the months of torturous anticipation. Months of him on the cusp of begging–and Toji Fushiguro has never begged for anything in his goddamned miserable life. Your sincerity is displayed through the gingerness in which you hold his face. Because how could someone with such gentle hands ever tell a lie? And your sincerity is displayed through your words. You tell Toji things that nobody has ever told him before. Nice things, reassuring things despite his insistence on being an asshole to you.

Toji pushes his torso to be propped up on an elbow before he leans in. It’s not a tame first kiss by any means; Toji is mammalian in the way his teeth gnash yours and his tongue laves your cupid’s bow. “Slow,” you whisper in the short absence of his lips. “Slowly.” A command that he feels inclined to follow like some kept mutt, swapping out the animalistic pace with a more refined, controlled tempo. Your face was swallowed by two massive hands; they clamped on either side of your jaw, calloused and dry and forcefully pulling you closer. “Just like that, Toji.”

The way you say his name… Fuck. Toji grunts, swinging a heavy thigh over your own to situate between your legs. “I’ve never,” there's a pause when he leans in to suck the tip of your tongue, “been so desperate to be inside a woman.” His thick tongue worms back into your mouth, pushing smoky saliva down your throat. You were writhing; your hand slides over his, the one still tending to your cheek, and you guide it lower. He let you drag his hand down the smooth slope of your neck, over the hill of your delicate chest, across the plain of your soft tummy to meet the waistband of your designer pants. 

Your head tilts, something devious glinting in the colored rings of your eyes that have Toji so enchanted. He plucks at the brass button of your pants, nudging the point of his nose to the high of your cheekbone. Breathing in the luxury branded perfume that overpowered the cigarette stench still lingering in his room from his morning smoke; evidenced by the stub crumbled in the glass tray on his wobbly nightstand. “What about the girl…Girl from last night?” 

Toji smiles at the breathy question. “What girl?” He hums cheekily against your mouth, letting his tongue slip back through the seam of your delicious lips. You slap his face rather playful, but his breath hitches all the same.

“Dick.”

At last, he pops the button. The acrylic of your nails sink into the meat of his forearm, legs widening, ass shifting; all of the signs that Toji hyperfixated on. The way you tell him to keep going without so much as saying a word has him hotter than anytime another woman has begged for his touch in bed. Toji kisses you as he dips beneath the ajar slacks, then those sheer panties, slipping down to where you needed him most. You’re wet, he notes to himself. Wet, squelching and red hot when his thick middle finger sandwiches itself between the labia. 

Both pairs of legs tangled together amidst the desperation. While Toji touches you, you’re hiking your leg up–the one snuggled between two of the man’s built thighs. It presses to his clothed crotch, and you reach around grab a handful of his ass. “Hump it,” you dictate, using his ass cheek as leverage to pull his hips down against your awaiting thigh. Toji jolts; never had his ass been grabbed like that, but he thinks he likes it.

So he grinds. His groin crashes against your leg with rough enthusiasm, so rough that it should be a threat to your poor femur bone. But he doesn’t let up. Toji’s arm tenses and shakes with exertion as he fingers you, forearm burning from the intensity at which he moves. But he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck,” he huffs. “Fuck.”

What is he, some kind of dog? Chasing his high against a leg, licking your neck, barking obscenities into existence. Had you been anyone else, Toji would have had them bent at the waist over his bed, forcing their face into his lonesome pillow and taking what he needed. But you had this certain authority–you’d always had–as if you owned him. Not that you would ever admit that, nor did you believe it, but Toji did. You pay for his living quarters, his meals, his clothes, his car, hell, his time. The leash was cuffed at his throat, leather digging into his flesh, and he fucking loved it. Toji would wait for your instructions like a well behaved puppy. 

“Take my pants off,” you utter, and it’s only then does Toji realize that the both of you hadn’t bothered shedding any layers, taking favor in rutting clothed bodies together like a couple of immature teens. His hips pause their humping, and his tongue finds one long, last lick to your jugular before pulling back.

Two thumbs hook beneath both layers of material at your hips. “Can’t believe you made me wait this long,” he mutters offhandedly, dragging your pants down. 

You’re bare. His mouth waters at the sight of glistening moisture between your legs, encapsulated by a dusting of hair. Toji stares, nestled on his knees, straddling your thigh. He just stares.

“I told you my reasons,” you say.

He doesn’t respond to that. “I want to fuck you.”

Your chest rises. Are you arching for him? “Ask me.” When he cocks a confused brow, you lightly elaborate. “Show me some of that respect I taught you and ask me nicely.”

The sole of your foot caresses his pec over the black tee shirt he sports, a gentle notion that he is allowed to take his time. Toji doesn’t need time though; he’s got your twisted little request all figured out. It’s funny, he shouldn’t have expected any less. To him, respect didn’t exist in the bedroom, but Toji would make an exception. “Will you let me fuck you tonight?” You’re not letting him get off that easy, your pointed eyes say it all. So, in an uncharacteristically piteous voice, the man adds “please, ma’am” and strokes your calf for good measure.

That does it. 

Your legs spread, arms racing up to coil around the thick post of his neck. He lets you pull him down, lets you kiss him tenderly, lets your tongue curl behind his teeth. Toji groans, reaching a sticky hand down to clumsily shove his sweatpants around his ass. “You have no–” kiss “idea what you–” kiss “you do to me–” kiss, kiss “when you call me that.”

His length drags over your core, hot and heavy and thick and raw. He doesn’t move to grab a condom knowing damn well there’s a box that sits in his nightstand to the left of them. A box that has been forgotten, left untouched in the waking months of his realization that he doesn’t want to fuck other people. Why would he? When you take such good fucking care of him, what’s the point in sleeping around anymore?

“Be grateful,” Toji husks, rubbing up against the warmth beneath him. “‘M never this nice in bed.”

“I’m not, either.”

He throbs at that. A small hand snakes behind his head, weaving into the raven shag of his hair, and tugs. “I really never meant for this to happen.” Toji narrows those steely eyes at you. “To end up in your bed, I mean. I thought I had more resolve than this.”

Too bad money can’t buy resolve, he thinks inwardly. Hand still between bodies, Toji jerks himself slowly, soaking his tip in your entrance. His gaze is glued to your face, flitting amidst all the gorgeous features it had to offer. “I knew I’d get you here eventually,” he speaks with a lilt of confidence, prodding the point of his nose to yours. And then he pushes inside without warning. You’re gooey; a hot, wet heat encasing his body from head to toe. He feels you shudder, feels nails in his nape. He feels your sticky breaths on his cheek, feels your pillowy thighs squish against his hip bones. Toji serves you the entire length in one slow thrust, holding himself inside. “Fuck.”

“Slow,” you warn once more in a broken voice. His hair was grabbed again, you used it as a makeshift handlebar to yank Toji’s head down. His handsome face plummeted into the divot between your breasts, still gift wrapped in that undoubtedly overpriced shirt. His nose pressed to your sternum, taking deep inhales. 

Slow. 

Slow sex was unfamiliar territory to Toji, one among the list of foreign concepts you had introduced to him during your time together. Fucking was animalistic practice between two people, fast-paced and greedy and surprisingly lonely. Toji fucked with the intention of climaxing; intimacy is irrelevant. Was irrelevant. 

Toji slips a hand beneath your back, locking a grip on the underside of your shoulder to weld your chest to his face. Slow, timely thrusts met your cunt, watery squelches filled the room. “Oh, fuck.”

Your hands wander. Crawling down the base of his spine, breezing over his tail bone, clutching his bare ass. Guiding him in a way, and he doesn’t entirely mind. “My boy,” you moan in the throes of pleasure, a free hand blindly feeling for the back of his sweaty neck. Fingers stroke the precious skin there, sensitive flesh that nobody has ever paid attention to, not even himself. Toji trembles.

“Take it,” he whispers back, as if he still had any semblance of control. But you let him, and he thinks you’re too fucking nice for sparing his pride like that. “Take it, goddamn it.”

“Yes, my sweet boy.”

Idiotic. He is no longer a boy, nor does he even slightly compare to anything sweet. God, if you knew him. If you knew what he did for work… How many people he’s gutted and bled like livestock for quick cash… You would leave. He knows this to be a fact of life, you’re simply too moralistic and caring and selfless to keep in contact with a monster like him.

“Let mommy take care of you.”

Oh Jesus Christ, he’s done for. You wax praises so sincere that Toji starts to let himself believe he’s good. He pretends he’s worthy of being here with you right now in this bed, with your lithe fingers petting his damp hair and your breasts against his cheek, and fucks you harder. The toes of two socked feet bury into the mattress.

You successfully conquered his flimsy pride. “Mom… my…,” Toji breathes out, stifling down the impending whine caught at the back of his esophagus. He bucks deep inside, pubic bone to pubic bone, and grabs a handful of tit. So fucking soft even under this stupid shirt.

The sex plays out this way until the very end. A gentle tango that reminds Toji he hadn’t actually fucked in missionary position for some time. But at last, you came around him. “Toji, baby I’m here.” As if you were charged with electricity, you twitched and jumped beneath him. Toji fucked you through it, grinding his hips in a trajectory that caught your clit with his pubic hair. The friction was passionate, and you came with your jaw unhinged on a silent yelp.

“Give it to me,” he rasped, tongue lolling out to lick at your cleavage through your shirt. Drool rolled down the palate, collecting into a small puddle and dampening the fabric. A messy puppy, drooling all over you like that. Toji fucked harder, much too hard to be considered ‘slow’ anymore, but you didn’t stop him.

“Come on.” A hand dips beneath the collar of Toji’s tight shirt, scratching the ever loving fuck out of his upper back. “Cum baby boy.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckfuckfuck.” The thrusts halt abruptly; Toji rams himself deep inside and holds onto you for dear life. There’s a brief pause before he empties himself into the deepest depths of your pussy, twitching as he does so. You coo, talking him through it with an inoffensive hand raking his bangs back. They stick, his sweat acting like a sort of natural gel, and Toji’s forehead is on display. You drag him up and press your lips to it—he flushes and drops back onto you, hiding in your neck.

Toji gasps on his come down, gulping in air through his nose. He’s weak and it’s strange. Despite the stupid amount of strength trapped within that Herculean body, Toji cannot find it in him to hover anymore. His entire weight drops onto your much tinier frame, but he hears no objections so he keeps himself there.

“Worth the buildup?” You ask at last, rubbing soothing circles into the plates of his shoulder blades. Your voice is a little strained, no doubt the effects of a two-hundred-and-something-pound man crushing your lungs, but Toji likes the funny grate of it in his ears.

“You already know the answer.” It’s written in the way your cum mixes together and wets the crease of his inner thighs. He’s not exactly going to say that was the most intimate and passionate sex i’ve ever had, but he’ll show you how much it meant to him by letting you cradle him to your chest.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni

[sp00ky-scary]

first attempt at a g3 cupid because I got thinkin about the possibility of g3 cupid

explaining my choices (even though I'm gonna do a 2nd attempt at this and change some stuff)

ditching the bone elemental thing because tbh it's pointless and whilst I love her in mh I think at this point most people view her as the eah version of her

so like yeah she's just a cherub demigoddess now

I tried to still keep elements of her g1 design but I went pretty casual with her outfit because that's just the vibes of g3 designs

she's very pink and cream and soft and frilly because that's the vibes

kept the arm and leg ombre thing because I think it's kind of iconic and I just like that thing with character designs but I need to find a way to make it clash less

her boots were gonna be platforms but then I thought as just heeled boots they were kinda giving like pixie and I thought it was cute

yeah that's it

oh she has a face I just only drew the eyes because this is essentially a sketch

and she has short hair because I think it's cute and need g3 to release a doll with short hair already

[the-kr8tor]

hey i was wondering if you could write a fic about the reader teaching Hobie how to roller skate?? It’s so oddly specific but i can imagine him just struggling with it and it’s funny to me. Plus my dream date is to teach someone how to roller skate 😭. Thank you so much. Also please remember to take breaks and rest. I lysm and appreciate all the effort you put into ever story ❤️

What a cute prompt! Thank you for requesting!! And I will!! You're too sweet ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for a mention of Hobie being tall and brief mention of clothes), cw food mention, set in Hobie's 70s dimension, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Being a part of the spider society has numerous Perks— Free therapy if you're willing to wait months for a single appointment. The cafeteria providing three meals a day to starving spider people from all walks of life, (and dimensions) not to mention the unmatched camaraderie with your fellow spiders. That alone makes all the jet lag from traveling through dozens of multiverses, and all the aches and pains that comes with being bitten by a radioactive spider. But, there is one thing that trumps all of those perks, and that's hopping to your partner's dimension for a not-so-quick date at the roller rink.

Hobie didn't take much convincing, especially after showing him your timeline appropriate outfit to him. His dimension is practically stuck in the 70s, filled with groovy psychedelic colours from the top to bottom. And of course there's the leather jackets that you've grown accustomed to just by being with Hobie. Hell, you especially love those leather pieces like the one you're wearing now. You went all out with your outfit, researching the trends back then with a splash of punk looks that had Hobie almost melting the second you stepped out of the portal. You fit in, to say the least. But after all the research and countless hours in the library just scouring for history books and life in the 70s, they don't compare actually being there and seeing it with your own eyes.

A glorious disco ball hangs in the ceiling, twinkling lights dancing around the funky, swirly and fluffy walls of the roller rink. Everywhere you look there's a burst of colours, and there's no lack of laughter ringing above iconic disco music you've heard before.

Smiling, you sit on a bench, eyes turned upwards at the sparkling lights twirling around the whole place. Hobie kneels before you, insisting to tie your rollerblades for you, citing that if it's not done well you could fall over and smash your face on the polished granite. You of course don't refuse, loving how much he dotes on you when there's no mission to rush to or a certain Spiderman breathing down his neck.

Patting your foot, Hobie calls your name above the blaring music. “How's the weather up there, lovie?”

You tilt your head, chin tucked on your clavicle, admiring how handsome he looks under disco lights with his piercings and eyes shining. “How long have you been waiting to say that to someone, huh, tall guy?”

He takes your unlaced rollerblade, pushing it in your socked foot and then propping it up on his knee. He's smiling all through it, happy to indulge you even for a quick moment without anyone to kick or web up. “Believe it or not, I've said it a few times.”

You fake a gasp, and he chuckles at your antics while he ties a ribbon. “Someone is taller than you?! I thought that was impossible!”

“You're impossible.” Hobie's hand remains on your ankle, hand rising up to cup your knee, thumb drawing circles around your tights. Leaning up, he holds your hip with his free hand, pushing you down gently to meet him halfway; which you gladly let him guide you.

Beaming, you peck his nose and the space between his brows. Earning a soft chuckle from him. “Says the one kneeling before me.”

“Which makes my comment correct.” He follows suit, kissing where your Cupid's bow lies before standing up shakily on his rollerblades. (That he hides with his nonchalance.) “C’mon, let's get this over with before I change my mind.”

Taking his helping hand, you pull yourself up, effortlessly standing on the wheels. “It's not too bad, I promise. Even little kids get it right after a few tries.”

He raises a pierced brow. “Those little kids aren't as tall as me and don't have a reputation to keep.”

You poke his side, “I've seen you backflip off of Rhino's head. Roller skates are nothing compared to that. Besides, no one you know is here to see you fall flat on your ass.”

“You won't film it like last time we went ice skatin’?” He can't help but ogle you under the light and amidst the bright colours.

Leading him towards the rink, you hold his hand, slowly inching your way inside. “I promise I won't take videos this time.” He huffs in reply as you guide him to the shiny floors. “It was for personal use anyway.” You mumble to yourself.

Hobie immediately holds onto the railings next to him the second his feet leaves the carpeted floors and onto granite. His knees are bent and shaking while he tries to keep his balance on the wheels. “Love, why'd you let go?!”

Giggling, you reach for him with open arms, rolling towards him. “I didn't! You did!”

Panic spreads through him unlike all the times he has fought countless villains as his rollerblades smack loudly on the floors as his feet skidaddles in place, struggling to even stand up. After reaching for you, your six foot three baby holds onto you like a life raft. Long arms grasping with none of the cool nonchalance he usually exhibits.

“Do you want me to get a training cart for you—?”

“No, I've got this.” Hobie straightens up, hand holding on to your jean pocket as if he wasn't whining a few seconds ago.

“Oh okay—”

“Don't let me go this time.”

“I won't, Hobs. Maybe try moving your legs?” Smiling, you roll around the rink as he uses you as his personal guide while he barely moves his stiff legs.

His eyes roam around the rink where people of all ages whizz past him without a care. He looks over to you with a new found determination. If those children who are barely five years old can skate like they own the place, he too can do it. “What do I do now?”

You don't laugh or giggle at him, instead, you help and support him throughout the lesson like you promised him when you suggested the date. Hobie picked up on the skill real quick, quicker than he did for ice skating. Maybe the music helped him, or maybe he really wanted to impress you this time instead of the ‘baby deer learning how to walk’ he exhibited earlier.

After a while he's already skating around you. A bit wobbly but his form makes up for it. Hobie thanks his spider senses and balance for not stumbling and crashing into another person.

You're all tired out after the exercise. Head placed on his shoulder, arms looped around his middle as he's the one guiding you this time while you two skate mindlessly on the shiny floors as the skating rink dies down for the night. He blows air in your ear, waking you up.

“Thank you.” Hobie affectionately pecks your brow, you hum in content. “You've got some patience in you, love.”

“Nope, you're just a fast learner. And you're welcome, thank you for indulging me.”

“You chose well.” His eyes smile, hand splayed over the small of your back. “Next time it's my turn to pick the place.”

“What do you have in mind?” Tilting away, your hand snakes up from his back to his nape, kneading softly.

“It's a secret, innit. For now,” he skids to a stop, hand still holding on to you. “you need to see some food that your dimension hasn't seen in decades.”

Your eyes widens, gasping. “So much food that shouldn't be in jell-o.” You're already unlacing your rollerblades.

[becauseheartsgetbroken-hs]

bestie i'm new to the world of fics and it would be great if you could recommend me some good iconic stories to read 🥰pleasee ❤️

OHHH WELCOME BABY! 💞💞

Hope you'll find the great comfort they offer to all of us too!

I'm thrilled to do this so I'm gonna start immedietaly! Don't know what's your taste is so I'm gonna recommend many different stories I have loved! 😊

A Toast To The Future by @narryffdreaming is one of my favorite stories ever and I truly believe it's one of the most beautifully written stories I've ever read. 🙏 The way Dani approaches the past experiences of the characters and their emotions is impressive. I am always fascinated by stories that are authentic and the way that story is written makes you feel seen even if your experiences are not exactly the same as the characters. 💞 (can't wait to read the next part)

Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't) by @narryffdreaming again because I just love her work! Friends to lovers trope (i loooove this trope sm) and it has everything: angst, fluff, romance, softness, smut, everything! Everything just flows so nicely!

When Y/N dates someone, they find their soulmate…it’s never her by @jawllines is super cute and lovely and made me giggle and blushing! It's such an unique concept and I just loved it!

Harry and Y/N are in the same ballet class, and they hate each other by @jawllines again and what can I say? Pure enemies to lovers story that has you in a chokehold. Everything about it is perfect! 😍

Daddy Issues by the amazing @fkinavocado is jaw dropping, I mean it! It's one of the first long stories I read in here so it's special to me. 🙏 Dreea delivered the great combination of spicy and softness with this story.

Sex Tutor by @gurugirl ! I really liked the way she wrote about this topic and it felt like she did it with so much respect (as she always does) and I just really had a great time reading it.

404 by my pookie @freedomfireflies 💗is one of my favorite stories ever and I feel like I have to tattoo this to my skin at this point. 😂 It's enemies to lovers and you can feel the tension from a mile. Also 404rry is the most annoyingly adorable characher ever and I just adore him. 🤗💗

Teach Me by miss @freedomfireflies again and let's just say that this series is on FIRE. A friends to lovers story that makes you feel things. One thing I love about this story is that the two characters share a deep love and respect for each other and I feel like it's such an important point.

Grumpy H and

You're my Last Shot by @cupid-styles are so cute and I had a great reading them! The flow is amazing in both of them and they are so well written.

Old Grudges ,

Just How Fast the Night Changes ,

The Sun Will Rise and

Valerie by @watchmegetobsessed are litterally amazing! Loved these stories so much! I come back to them from now and then and I have the same feeling every time I read them. 🥰

Harry’s a dick, and Y/N hates him for it. by @harrys-titties is so HSHJSHSSJ I just loved it! So beautifully written and it has everything: tension, angst, smut, romance!

Hawthorn by @adorebeaa is so beautiful! I enjoyed it so much! It is not finished yet but it is worth it! Again it's an enemies to lovers story and it really plays like a movie in your head! 💕

I got carried away a little bit hehe and I'm sure that if I continue I won't be able to stop lol. I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did! 💕

P.S Τhere are many other great authors that I didn't include in this post because I might just forgot them at the moment (sometimes when you need to remember something specific you just can't, your mind is just stuck ugh) or because I might not have come across their work yet so I don't want anyone to feel bad. Your work is always appreciated. 💗

Byeee xoxo

[bunnysnuff]

Serving.

Pairing: Elle argent x m!drag queen! Reader.

Trigger warning: none. Reader is a drag queen.

Note: love my drag queen community. Slay.

a drag queen known for your bold and fierce makeup looks, sitting down with Elle Argent, ready to work your magic on her. The energy in the room is electric, and Elle’s excited smile shows her trust in you to transform her into a glam queen for the night.

Elle sits in the chair, her long, slender fingers fidgeting with excitement. Her soft, caramel-colored skin catches the light perfectly as you prepare your brushes and palettes. You’ve done hundreds of faces before, but working with someone like Elle—a style icon with a graceful beauty—feels special. She radiates both elegance and a quiet confidence, and you can’t wait to enhance her natural glow.

“Ready for this?” you ask, twirling a large makeup brush between your fingers with a wink.

Elle laughs softly, her eyes sparkling. “More than ready! Make me fabulous.”

You start by laying down the base, a flawless, airbrushed foundation that makes her skin look smooth and luminous. Elle’s soft features are the perfect canvas, and you take your time to contour her high cheekbones and sculpt her face with precision. The goal is to create that perfect mix of feminine beauty and exaggerated drag glam, blending the worlds of everyday beauty and bold artistry.

As you work on her brows, shaping them into sharp, arched perfection, Elle watches intently in the mirror. “I love how strong this looks already,” she says with awe in her voice.

“Wait till you see the eyes, darling,” you respond with a playful grin, reaching for your brightest eyeshadows.

You decide on a bold, neon cut crease with glitter accents—something that will make her eyes pop under the stage lights. You carefully blend the shades, layering electric blues and purples that contrast beautifully with her soft, warm skin tone. The glitter you apply to her lids catches the light, sparkling like diamonds every time she blinks.

“Now for the lashes,” you declare, pulling out a pair of dramatic, fluttery falsies.

Elle’s eyes widen as she sees the lashes. “Are those wings or lashes?” she jokes, but she’s clearly excited.

“Both, honey. You’re about to fly,” you say with a wink, carefully applying the lashes to her eyes. The transformation is already striking—her features have gone from naturally stunning to drag royalty in mere minutes.

Next is the highlight, because no drag look is complete without blinding shine. You apply a shimmering gold highlight to the tops of her cheekbones, her nose, and her cupid’s bow, creating an ethereal glow that catches the light from every angle. You can’t help but step back for a moment, admiring your work.

“Look at you!” you exclaim, genuinely impressed. “Elle Argent, you’re a queen!”

Elle giggles, her gaze shifting between the mirror and you. “I’ve never looked like this before. It’s amazing. I feel so powerful!”

For the final touch, you reach for a deep, glossy lip color—something bold to complete the look. You carefully paint her lips with a rich burgundy shade that adds just the right amount of drama.

When you’re done, you spin her chair toward the mirror for the final reveal. Elle’s face lights up in pure awe as she takes in the full look. Her reflection stares back at her with glittering eyes, sculpted cheekbones, and the perfect blend of softness and drag intensity.

“Wow,” she breathes, turning her face to catch the highlight shimmering on her skin. “I feel like a totally different person.”

“Good,” you say, placing a hand on her shoulder. “That’s the power of drag. It’s about transformation, but it’s also about embracing every side of yourself. And trust me, you’re serving right now.”

Elle stands up, giving herself one last look in the mirror before twirling around dramatically, her face glowing with confidence. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “You’ve turned me into a goddess.”

You smile, feeling proud of the work you’ve done. “Honey, you were always a goddess. I just gave you a little extra sparkle.”

[bruciemilf]

on something something anon here :DD

-On regency au Jayara

YOU YOU YOU YOU!!!! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME, I'M GOING INSANE, I'M GOING CRAZY OVER THEM

I've always been a massive fan of royalty love stories for some unknown reason and it imagining these two with that aesthetic makes me go wild, one of my fav stories ever is Cinderella (1950), mainly because the aesthetic is just right!! (mostly it's because I love Cinderella, she deserves the word, my silly willy girl)

Jason hating Yara is funny as hell, this is princess swan on reverse because 1. Jason isn't a cunt who only appreciates women for their beauty, thus he doesn't need that lesson, and 2. They never truly stop hating each other.

their bickering starts loud and iconically, I mean, you can't not go down in history as a badass when you are Yara Flor, the girl who slapped Jason Wayne so hard he went flying through an entire ballroom and hit the biggest bush of flowers, Jason spent the rest of the week spitting flower petals, mostly at her.

Yara deserves to resemble Princess Jasmine (from Alladin) solely because instead of a tiger it's her horse who keeps scaring people away, despite his goofy face. Ironically enough, the moment Jerry and Jason meet they hit off immediately. (Martha was there with them when that happened and in the distance, she could hear Thomas screaming that was a sign he was correct!! they're made for each other)

But it's that delicate soft lonely feeling of silently dancing together in a ballroom that starts to change things (<- delusional Cinderella stan dumbassery)

Bruce always told Jason that if you want people to love you have to love them first, Love them harder, do it dearly, and do it because you care, not because you must. It's hard to understand someone so different as Yara, but he knows that uncomfortable when you have to practice dancing while people are watching, and you're bad at it. So he asks their teacher to let them dance together, alone, and he's whispering to Yara she's doing great because out of the two of them, he's the one who fell on his butt twice. (Yara learned that day it's very hard not to blush when there's a deep voice in your ear calmly telling you're good, you're great at this and you don't need to shy away. She wishes he would have said more)

my god, I have to draw them RIGHT NOW

(I don't want to make this ask bonkers long I'll come back for more later >:3)

YOU'RE GOING INSANE? IM GOING INSANE!!! oh anon how you've blessed me. Bewitched me body and soul.

Yara wasn't forged for grace; she's better with a sword than with a fork. She can't tame her reckless tongue, or her crude jokes, or her atrocious table manners.

She's not dainty and sharp and quietly powerful like one of Jason's paper fantasies;

There's admiration for them, a respect, a desire to see them succeed and flourish, especially when he talks of them with so much passion and fire, but that'll never be her.

She's always been too much; Too loud, too hot headed, too opinionated, too strong-headed, too much like Her to be anything even close to good. She's not poetry.

She's flesh and attitude and stubbornness and she knows, like a truth for the ages, that Jason Todd wouldn't marry her if Cupid shot him twice.

But when they dance together, when big hands carve a perfect hold on her hips, when clever fingers mold her frame almost possessively, Yara thinks, for someone that can't stand her, he sure doesn't touch her like it.

For someone that can't stand her, he's so quick to her side when another lord makes a flirty comment to her.

He's quick to say "disrespect my wife again, and I'll show you war" when lord Luthor won't take her strategic advice because she's young and has no cock for him to measure with.

"Do you think I'd have a bigger cock than him thought?"

Jason braids her hair (he's the only one allowed to touch it) and doesn't even need a second, "Of course"

But is she better? Is she above loudly correcting someone when they say poetry and writing are futile skills and Jason's the one wayne man who won't amount to anything? When she bites his neck so the next time high ladies have something to look at? When she defends his honor? No. Yara isnt

In conclusion; They're idiots in love your honor