#im kissing you passionately

[monsoon-of-art]

I still don't really know how to change fonts yet

[densewentz]

rookanis players: why isnt Lucanis' romance more passionate, more physical!! Why is he so subdued and quiet!! You barely even kiss!! Lucanis, fresh out of a year in a demonic torture pit, having just had one of his two remaining family members taken from him just as he's freed, almost losing Treviso to the elvhen gods which are a) apparently real and b) that he's apparently now responsible for killling and who, oh yeah, also is always literally on the brink of exhaustion because he can't sleep or his spite demon goes around causing mischief and sniffing people: rook, mi vida, please give me a break

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios) part 1

summary: how you've meet each other, when you feel in love and your first exchange of "i love you"s.

content warning: just tooth rotting fluff and cuteness between those two. :D

author notes: i know that sooo many people writed this same idea but i can't help it, it's just so cute and so good to write!! when i was writing, the words came almost instantly and gods, i love to write fluff so much!! oh, and today, when i was re-reading this with my friend i was thinking the whole time "damn i love him" ((and i was awoken until 3am yesterday trying to finish this one but i feel sleep and couldn't end it, but i finished it this morning and now, at night time, im posting in here! anyways, hope you guys like it. :) (there is more of this concept if you want to see it too! heres the link for part 2!)

» the moment the doors hang open, you turn to see who it is, and as you do so, the whole world stops.

» the prettiest man you've ever seen in your life just came into the library you work in. literally, the prettiest man.

» the way his fluffy hair falls around his face and his curious eyes keep looking at everything, scanning all corners of the room, every little thing he can, shining whenever he sees something he likes.

» and his boyish little smile, barely showing his teeth, that he was giving while talking to a furry someone just by his side.

“oh hi, dear friend!” waving, heimerdinger spoke, walking with tiny, fast steps in your direction, pausing when he was close to you. meanwhile the boy beside him was walking a little slower, his cane thudding softly against the floor.

he stopped near the yordle and looked at your face, giving a polite smile, offering to you his non-occupied hand, and you shaked it, giving him a smile of yours. “i’m viktor, heimerdinger's assistant. he said you could help me with some resources i might need, and i would very much appreciate any help your books could provide.”

“i hope you don't mind him coming here to do some researches, friend. he may come here often!” the yordle laughed, looking between the two of you and then walking away.

“ehhh.. so, do you have any books about-”

» basically, this is how you and viktor knew each other, through a friend in common. and, from this day on, he came to the library more and more often.

» at first, he just showed up, asked for a book you could provide and got out of the establishment. then, he tried to strike up a small talk with you whenever he was waiting for you to look up said books. now, he just straight up rants about any experiment he may be doing at the time.

» and if you're genuinely interested in his rant, he could go for hours just explaining every little detail to you, and he would love every second of it.

» because now he is a regular, you just analyze what he is up to in the most recent days and choose some books that might be useful to him, putting them in the drawer, below the reception desk. and when this happened for the first time he was almost flustered, because you cared enough to look up, sort and search for things that he didn't even asked for.

when you heard the door swing open, you looked at it's direction, smiling as you realized who it was. “hey, viktor! welcome again!” it was the third time this week he got to the library, looking for the same type of books, so you just worked a bit ahead this time. “i don't know if it is exactly what you need but i think that you could use these ones, they have some information you might like.”

“but i still didn't ask for anything..?” he stared at you with a puzzled face, trying to understand why you were giving him those.

“i just think it goes along with your research. also, i wanted to help.” you shrugged, smiling brightly at him.

and maybe this was when he thought for the first time “damn.. i might be in love.”

» after this, he always tried to stay closer to you, to say things you might like, to show you that he cared for you just as much as you cared for him.

» he even brought coffee (he got sweet milk for himself) and pastries for you both to share one day. and this was for sure one of the best excuses to transform a boring afternoon with no clients, into a lazy reading session, this, of course, until a client came and ruined the cutesy atmosphere between the two of you.

» of course he thought about asking you out before, but it was hard. he wasn't used to the feeling of love, of liking someone so deeply like this. so what could he do besides admire you everyday he was in your library? look at you with pure adoration, chuckle lightly whenever you said something that wasn't even that funny, and after it all just show you the most beautiful, bright and in love smile.

» he didn't like to belittle himself, but he really think you would be better with someone that wasn't him. you were so different, yet so alike him, it almost felt like it was meant to be.

» then, in one of his “oh, i will stay here for 15 more minutes and then i'll go home” times (that never lasted 15 minutes, to be honest), it was almost closing time, all of your coworkers were in their homes, no more clients in, simply, not a soul in there. only you both.

» you kept looking in his direction from afar, thinking to yourself how could you get someone so intelligent, so brilliant, so beautiful, so... him. you knew what you wanted, but again, it was hard. and, if saying your feelings out loud was way too scary, writing it all down seemed easier. so, you picked up a pen and a paper, writing in it everything that was inside your chest, your heart. you poured all your feelings into every word that you scribbled down.

» until you heard him packing up his stuff. you started to panic, and now there was only two options, leave the paper as it was and try to act neutral, or try to hide it and look even more nervous? well, there's no time to think! he was already in front of you while your head was spiraling nonstop.

“hey... you are fine? you look stressed.” he examined your face, tilting his head to the side, admiring every little feature of yours. your pretty eyes, your nose, your kissable lips...

“yes! i'm completely fine, no need to worry!” you put your hands on top of the little confession, smiling anxiously, hoping that he don't notice the sweet words you wrote down just for him.

“oh, what did you got there?” he looked at the paper, then at you, and back to paper. on a common day you would like to have his focus only on you, but it was making you even more nervous now, your stomach was turning itself, your hands were cold and trembling. and when he noticed it, he took your hand in his, and you could feel that he was shaking too. “hey... look,” he took a deep breath, almost like he didn't want to continue, like he was still choosing the right words to say. “i understand that some things we just want to keep them personal, only for ourselves. so, ehh, you don't have to show me what you wrote.”, he said with a nervous smile displayed on his lips, while caressing your knuckles with an almost feather-like touch, too afraid to ruin the moment and lose you right now.

and you didn't want to lose him too. even with your brain telling you that you shouldn't tell him, your heart knew you needed to say it, breaking itself or not. so it was now or never. “well... recently i've been thinking about our friendship, about what it could possibly be, about you.” you averted your gaze to the ground, wishing that you came up with fancier words and a better way to confess to him before it all, but you couldn't turn back now. “honestly i can't stop thinking about you, it's like you consumed every logical thought in my brain, everything that wasn't... you.” finally you looked at his eyes, just to see he already looking at you, eyes finally shining for you, because of you. “i love you, viktor. with everything in me, i really love you.” it seemed so right to say these three little words to him, to let him know how you felt since the first time you've seen him.

“and i love you too.” he came closer to you, still with his hand on yours, but now holding it gently, intertwining your fingers together, pressing quickly his lips in yours, smiling in pure awe, completely lovestruck after it. “i love you more than anything, my little star.”

[jazzy-art-time]

Big shirt and shorts combo goes crazy after a breakdown

[apocalyptic-byler]

IF BYLER’S FIRST KISS ISNT LIKE JANCY’S FIRST KISS THEN I DONT WANT IT

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: sabine and ezra finally share their first kiss. unfortunately, it’s on a broadcast to every rebel cell in the galaxy. chapter word count: 1131 a/n: hey remember back in november when i said "wow based on how long it took me to post chapters 3 & 4, we'll probably get chapters 5 & 6 around March 2025. apparently, that wasn't a joke; it was a prophecy. shoutout to the funny and clever @kanerallels for betaing! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels  @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster  @lucasbridger @redroverrider  @light-umbra   @commander-tech  @jedimandalorian @notanodinarygirl  {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Jetpacks and Sketchbooks Are An Introvert's Best Friend

 Leaving a party is hard enough when you're just a guest of honor, but when you're a guest of honor and also the main focus of the hottest tea the rebellion had spilt since the second fulcrum revealed his identity? That's even worse.

 Fortunately, Sabine was not only a guest of honor and also the main focus of the hottest tea the rebellion had spilt since the second fulcrum revealed his identity, but also, she had a jetpack.

 The jetpack, combined with her Mandalorian training in stealth, provided her a perfect opportunity to make a hasty escape back to The Ghost, and the ship's empty corridors would've provided her a perfect opportunity to plan out the conversations she'd have to have once the ship was no longer empty.

 It only would have, though, because it was interrupted by a message on the comms— not just her regular commlink, which she'd been ignoring entirely in light of the days' events, but the direct frequency for her family on Krownest, used for special emergencies, or plans for upcoming banquets, and the like. Today was a rare exception where she hoped for a family emergency, hopefully one that had knocked out their base's entire network except for this comm specifically, meaning they'd heard nothing of the day's events, and required her to return home as fast as possible and avoid, for the foreseeable future, any more conversations with certain blue eyed Jedi padawans that made her weak in the knees.

 Unfortunately, the minute she saw the smile on her brother's holo-face, she knew her family was perfectly fine— and she wasn't.

 "What is it, Tristan?" Sabine asked.

 "Nothing," Tristan said, "Just wanted to see my big sister one last time before the ol' buirs get to her."

 Sabine covered her face behind her hand. "I take it you saw the broadcast."

 "Are you kidding?" Tristan laughed. "Mom and dad got the whole base together to watch it; thought a message of hope would boost morale."

 "And?"

 "Well, some people's morale has definitely been lifted." Tristan smiled. "Bo Katan and Rau haven't stopped talking about it. Mom, on the other hand, well, she'd like them to stop talking about it."

 "I'm toast." Sabine said, her arms crossed across the holotable. "I'm more than toast. I'm burnt uj'alayi with bas neral sauce."

 She slammed her face down and buried it in her arms.

 "Look on the bright side." Tristan said.

 Sabine looked up at the projection in front of her.

 "The rest of the clan has a head-start on getting used to things." Tristan said. "They won't be surprised in the slightest once you and your jetti cyar'ika send out the wedding invites."

 On instinct, she grabbed her helmet off the seat next to her and threw it at the hologram, and even though they were thousands of parsecs away, he still flinched.

 "That's my cue to leave." Tristan said. "Make sure you tell your meshl'a jetti I said hi."

 He signed off before Sabine had any chance to throw any more of her armor across the room, and, as worried as she was about the aftermath of her parents and entire clan having watched her first kiss, she still liked the way meshl'a cyar'ika jetti sounded.

 She couldn't help but smile as she glanced down the hall to Ezra's room while on the way to her own. Her painting of Ezra and Zeb from all those years ago was still undisturbed on the wall, and several new doodles she'd added had joined them.

 She sighed a little, rolled her eyes a little, then went back to her room and pulled out her sketchbook, flipping past sketches of her cremates, her eyes catching on every hint of that perfect mix of midnight and navy blue staring back at her, skimming past plans she'd laid for murals that she'd planned to hide traces of the Empire's echoes on the streets of Lothal, turning instead to a new, blank page: a fresh start.

 She missed the days when the streets were full of bucketheads and Imperial factories to let out her unhealthy coping mechanisms onto— she still hadn't found a distraction that gave her that same kind of rush. If she sat alone with her emotions, she'd go insane. If she tried to pace the floor, she'd end up wearing holes in her shoes. If she did something dramatic with her hair it would be way too obvious that the day's events had meant something to her. The only thing she had left to do to stay sane was to make something.

 Her hand trembled before the empty page. For several minutes she sat staring, coming up with an idea, sketching it, realizing how bad it looked, ripping the page out, throwing it at the wall, and starting again.

 Finally she brought herself to draw the only thing on her mind, something she knew well enough to draw from memory without any difficulty.

 First came the basic sketch layer. Usually when drawing this subject, she'd write it off as a study of different poses, oftentimes in combat, occasionally studies in lighting, and in how the lightsaber in his hand cast its hues and shadows across him. Today she settled on his typical clueless shrug.

 Next was to add a body to the skeleton of a sketch. Today he'd cleaned up a little for the ceremony, and she could still remember the perfect fit of his jacket and the cut of the neckline of the shirt underneath. She could still feel his arms reaching around her, his fingers loosely ambling through her hair.

 Finally she sketched his face: his hair just starting to grow back again, eyes that always found their way to her, scars from a fight he was lucky to walk away from, a smile both innocent and guilty, complete with the lips that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

 Then she took to the sketch with paints and ink, choosing each color with intentional fervor, spending almost as long to mix the right blue as it had taken to do the rest of the drawing combined.

 At last, it was finished, and she gave herself a moment to appreciate her handiwork, holding it up in front of her. No artist could've done him justice, but she'd done her best, though she couldn't remember at which part of the process she'd surrounded his face with pink and red hearts, least of all ones with their initials inside.

 She smiled and rolled her eyes, then set her masterpiece down. She was surprised to see that, even when her sketchbook was no longer in front of her face, its subject was still in her line of vision, standing in her doorway with that same smile.

[sanjarka]

you know i always get a bit annoyed when everlark's love is described as a kind, patient, slow kind of love because sure! it is all of that but it's also VERY FUCKING HORNY AND PASSIONATE.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Sunny i don't think you understand how much i love you 🥺🥺

Im literally so in awe of you, and you're such a silly billy it makes me so happy

Does this to you

[livuvur]

Oh to be Winry Rockbell... *Sighs dreamily*

[alagaesia-headcanons]

I love that Nasuada's major flaw is the same as one of Galbatorix's greatest flaws, and that it gets worse and more ingrained throughout the series. And it's so compelling because it's incredibly in character for her and there's every reason for the circumstances to perpetuate and exacerbate it, but that doesn't make her flaw any less egregious. The scene where Galbatorix compares the two of them is so fascinating because his intention is very manipulative and malicious, yet the statement itself isn't entirely untrue.

Because Nasuada treats people like tools. She considers a person's utility more important than anything else, including their personhood.

And it's such an engrossing flaw because of course Nasuada treats people like tools! She is proud and powerful and stubborn and noble and utterly committed to achieving what she has set out to do, by whatever means necessary. She will use whatever she has at her disposal to reach her goal, and that includes using the people around her. Of course, this doesn't make Nasuada inherently immoral; she cares deeply about justice and protecting her people. But her views on the individuals around her are impersonal and self serving.

And the goal she's trying to achieve is to win the war. Nasuada would never be pushed out of her ways by the circumstances because they work, the way she treats people accomplishes exactly what she intends. By its nature, the bloody act of war rewards using people like tools. It demands that, even; to a certain extent, it's an ugly necessity in war, but the thing is that Nasuada doesn't see it that way. She never struggles with or grieves over the need to consider people's individuality as secondary to their function. It comes naturally to her, and it lasts through the end of the books, when the war is already over.

Because I think the most flagrant example of this is at the very end, when Birgit intercepts Roran as he's leaving, presumably intending to kill him, and Nasuada says, "He has proved himself a fine and valuable warrior on more than one occasion, and I would be most displeased to lose him." It's such a wonderful, pointed line that perfectly sums up this aspect of her character. Because what a disgusting thing to say. Especially for the queen of all Alagaesia, perfectly positioned and empowered to stop this confrontation and declare it unjust if she cared to. But her words make no attempt at all to defend Roran as a person, only his value to her.

The way she uses others I find most evident in her treatment of Roran, Murtagh, and Elva. The way she tells Eragon that she thinks of giving Katrina a dowry as a "purchase" of Roran's goodwill and loyalty. In Uru'baen, only at great length, she makes the conscious choice to ignore Murtagh's past and only judge who he is in the present, but disregards any care for what that might say about him as a person, solely focused on if he could be useful as an ally. And when Eragon offers to revert Elva's curse, the one that condemned an infant to feel every piece of pain and suffering surrounding her, Nasuada is so fixated on Elva's utility and value to Nasuada's goals that she goes so far as to ask Eragon to fake his effort to cure her. She sees people as tools to such an extent that she can't recognize that relieving an innocent baby of unimaginable, cursed agony should come before her own priorities.

[aenslem]

i fuckin love the empath ending, because bones just knows what he is doing and doing it on purpose to annoy spock, using 'fascinating' to point out the fact that Vians valued emotions over anything else, and he looks directly at spock saying that and smiles, he is such a lil shit i love him

[hcneyflower]

Craving the kind of kiss that makes him hold back, barely in control, because if he gave in, he'd completely ruin me in the best way. ♡

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: sabine and ezra finally share their first kiss. unfortunately, it’s on a broadcast to every rebel cell in the galaxy. chapter word count: 1232 a/n: Sorry this was a couple days late, there was a very slight risk of my laptop exploding. shoutout to @kanerallels for betaing. taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels  @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster  @lucasbridger @redroverrider  @light-umbra   @commander-tech  @jedimandalorian @notanodinarygirl  {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Probably The Final Chapter Of This Fic

 "Ezra, what are you doing here?" Sabine asked, exasperation in her voice as she slid her sketchbook under her pillow.

 "Oh, so you're the only one allowed to leave in the middle of a party?" he asked. Usually, when he entered Sabine's room without knocking first, he'd be met by paint bombs, glitter grenades, and the occasional threat of a thermal detonator. This time, despite her apparent annoyance with him, she didn't even reach for her nearest explosive as he crossed the threshold.

 "We can't both be gone," Sabine said, "one of us has to head back to the party, like, twenty minutes ago."

 "Why?"

 "Everyone down there saw…" she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she chose careful wording, "us, Ezra. And then we both happen to slip away at the same time, headed in the same direction, alone, together. What are they gonna think?"

 She was right. That could have some fascinating implications. Ezra put them out of his mind.

 "Well, I'm not going back." Ezra said, recalling his narrow escape from the mob of gossips asking him questions about his nonexistent secret relationship with Sabine, "I didn't know there were that many teenage girl rebel sympathizers in the galaxy."

 "Then I guess it's my turn to make a public appearance." Sabine said.

 Ezra had never been one to deny Sabine something she wanted, if it was something within his power to help her obtain. But today, she was denying herself, and he wasn't going to stand for it. Rather, he was going to stand against it.

 When she tried to leave, he stood between her and the doorway, denying her an escape route.

 "Ezra, get out of my way, or I'll flatten you."

 "No you won't." Ezra said. He didn't doubt that she had the ability to knock him off his feet in any way she felt necessary, but somehow today he had the courage to stand his ground.

 "Ezra, come on," she said. Instead of knocking him over, she simply tried pushing past his arm that leaned on the doorway, and if he hadn't been holding himself in place with the force, she might've succeeded. "At least one of us has to go back. What are they gonna think…."

 Ezra grabbed both of her shoulders and held her in front of him. 

 "Since when has it mattered to you what other people think, Sabine?"

 Her eyes met his, but quickly darted away.

 "Since today," Sabine said. "Since gossip about us has gotten as far as Krownest. Since the entire galaxy got comfortable with talking about something we haven't had the chance to talk about ourselves."

 "I understand." Ezra said, and he did. "I'm already tired of it all, too. If you want to go back there, and hold your head up high like nothing ever happened," he stepped off to the side and motioned out the doorway, "then, by all means, go right ahead. It's your choice."

 He expected her to walk out, but instead she sighed and shook her head and asked, "and what's option two?"

 Ezra smiled. "Option two is we settle this problem ourselves. You said you don't want the entire galaxy talking about something— talking about us— when we haven't yet? It's a little late for that. We can't make them stop, and odds are, they were talking long before today. The only way to stop them from having any more conversation about us before we get the chance to is for us to talk about us. Now."

 She took another step toward the door.

 Then she stopped.

 She turned around and walked back across the room.

 She took a seat on her bed.

 And she motioned for him to sit next to her.

 He was half expecting a glitter bomb by the time he reached her, each step as careful as though the room was laden with traps, but by some miracle he was still alive by the time he took a seat next to her and waited patiently to follow her lead.

 "I've never been much of one for talking." Sabine said, quietly.

 "Then how about I go first?" Ezra asked.

 She only nodded in response, but the hint of a smile it revealed gave him courage to continue.

 "I really liked you at first, Sabine," he said, "from the minute I first met you, I really liked you. All I knew then was you were pretty and you hated the Empire and you were way too cool to be friends with me, and I had a crush on you. But that's changed."

 As he spoke, she'd gradually started to look towards him more and more, but on his last words, her head sank.

 "I don't like you anymore," Ezra said, "because 'like' is a really small word. I like Loth cats and I like jogan fruit and I like the color orange. I like a lot of things."

 He took her hand, and she looked back up to him.

 "I like a lot of things," he said, "but I love you."

 Even as she looked away from him, he couldn't help but notice her smile.

 "I love your smile." He said, "and I love your voice. And I love that look in your eye when a plan comes together, and that pride on your face when you've finished a project, and I love that all you have to do is say hi to me or brush past me in the hallway, or even just look at me, and I fall in love all over again. I love every part of you, everything about you. I love you."

 Though he'd been practicing this speech for years, ran through it in his head a thousand times on his way over here, the entire concept was probably foreign to Sabine. She had no idea how he felt, and there was no reason to believe she felt the same way.

 Still, he had hope.

 "I…" Sabine took a breath, then restarted. "You've really grown on me, Bridger. At first, I couldn't wait until you walked out of my life like everyone else— but now, I don't want to picture a life without you."

 He smiled as she looked up at him and whispered, "ni kar'taylir gar." He had no idea what that meant— based on his knowledge of mando'a and mandalorian culture, she could very likely be telling him he smells like a puffer pig or calling him an idiot, but for the look on her face and the affection her tone carried, she could call him a puffer-pig scented idiot for the rest of his life and he wouldn't care.

 "What does that mean?" He asked.

 "I hold you in my heart," she said, then followed it with, "I love you too."

 It took several moments for Ezra's heart to start working again, for the flying sparks in his soul to jump-start his brain and bring him back to his normal level of functionality. As soon as he could say something to her, he did.

 "I hold you in my heart, too, Sabine." Ezra said. "And I always will."

 Sabine smiled and leaned closer to him, and he was more than happy to close the distance between them.

 And the star crossed rebellion heroes shared a pure, precious kiss, not for all the galaxy to see, but simply for each other.

[jils-things]

OMG CAN DISCORD JUST LET ME SEND THIS ALREDY.

MAN.

man OH MAN

i hope you know i took ages to reply to this because im still so floored and generally just speechless by this 😭 i genuinely can't put it down to words 😭 i'm so happy you put cared to put that much of effort for a simple gift its seriously so good i 😭😭😭😭 AGH 😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭💚

[idontneedspaceineedyou]

Soon carla will be taking 'fuck the police' quite literally

[skitskatdacat63]

Tfw the character you've been idly shipping the mc with is an antagonist 😞 what about what we had together, does that mean NOTHING to you 😞😞