#no champagne asks

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[chaesong-hwa]

my heart won't start anymore (stop 'cause you're losing me)

[mothercain]

whats your favorite gemstone?

probably dendritic or moss agate

[vancilart]

get fucked

[anika-ann]

For ask game:

Steve Rogers x reader ; Champagne Problems

HELLO SWEET 😍

Sorry to take a while longer, I wanted to time this story right 😇 Thank you for participating in this ask game! 

Alright, I’m going to be honest, I coooompletely flipped this prompt around and ignored that’s a Taylor song. I was in a need of a cheery fic. Also, my mind instantly went to @stellar-solar-flare’s Worthy, an exquisite delivery on a prompt with this song, so I needed to do something different. My apologies if this is entirely misses its mark.

Champagne Problems

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader WC: 1450 (five sentences, what five sentences) Type: fluff and humour, New Year's Eve blurb Warnings: dares and alcohol, language, tooth-rotting fluff

The room is full of Holiday cheer and expectations, excited murmur and an odour of pricy alcohol of greatest variety; whiskey, gin, wine, fancy beer, champagne and more; vodka and absinth for the adventurous ones.

You are not adventurous – not quite. In a room filled with literal superheroes and their peers, important CEOs and the fun kind of scientists, as Tony likes to put it, it feels like you stick out like a sore thumb, no matter how at home your people, your friends, try to make you feel.

Hence you taking advantage of the open bar with champagne flowing freely, expensive and sparkly like liquid gold. 

The gold does not solidify in your veins as any reasonable chemist would expect; instead, it warms you up, making you a bit giggly, much to the delight of your lab friends, who, you suspect, decided to make you into their personal lab rat, set to observe the effects of alcohol on your balance, boundaries and behaviour. You can’t quite hold it against them; such is the danger of leaving you unsupervised. You have voiced your concerns, but a sweet smile was the only response you got, along with encouragement to have fun.

And now, here you are. Accepting a stupid dare.

Such is the problem of champagne; it makes you agree to silly things.

The midnight is nearing, only minutes away; and you are to find and kiss the most handsome man in the room, unless – to quote your friends – you wanted to be called a pussy. Maybe you should find new friends, you muse, as your gaze, still sharp despite the two glasses of champagne you downed, travels around the room. Two glasses – how much is that in BAC? Considering your weight and—

Your brain comes to a screeching halt, your heart skipping a startled beat, breath catching so violently in your chest it actually hurts for a brief moment.

You found him; the most handsome, downright stunning man in the room.

Whether you’ll have the courage to simply walk to him and ask for a midnight kiss, now that is a wholly different question; but as you take in the deliciously tall man, the slacks hugging his muscular thighs and ass so nicely, your gaze trailing up his blue button-down, you wish it was your hands mapping out his torso instead. Feeling him up all the way up to his gorgeous face, sharply cut jaw, soft pink lips, elegant nose and sparkly eyes the colour of the sky, his with golden hair like the sun to perfect that metaphor---

Your friends wolf-whistle lowly and giggle, patting your shoulder, knowing all-too-well that you have acquired the target, so to speak.

“I think it’s time to live up to your last name, our dear Mercury. You wouldn’t want to hear it in the same sentence as coward, would you?” Gen teases you, causing you to shoot her an offended and very much determined glare, because no. No one would speak your last name and liked it to a coward; only over your dead body.

“Watch me,” you hiss, setting your third glass – untouched – on the high table, straightening and setting direct course for the absolutely breathtaking man ordering a glass of whiskey at the bar.

You hear snickers behind you and even a groan, but you ignore it; you have a clear goal. Your heart is beating insanely fast – you are so sure it is not healthy with combination of alcohol, but you cannot exactly prevent it – so you keep walking, your legs slightly shaky not because of nerves, but because you are several feet from the man when he takes notice of you.

And he smiles.

Not just a soft curl of lips – a full brilliant smile, warm, a glow in his eyes as if someone had spared just a drop of luminol for him.

You could trip over your feet at the sight; hell, you do.

He reaches out, catching you easily, a flicker of concern over his face until he sees you watching him with mute awe, your hands landing on his firm chest as he steadies you and unsteadies your heart completely in the process.

God gracious-

“Hi,” you choke out, earning a chuckle and a greeting in return.

He’s still holding you; you notice, because you are bright like that. Normally. Your brain function might be slightly impaired by the products of ethanol metabolization.

“Can I help you, doll?” he asks, deep voice slightly amused, causing your fingers to twitch on his chest, flexing in his shirt, because holy damn, if the champagne was liquid gold, his voice is liquid spiced honey, sultry enough to have you shiver at the heat coiling in your belly.

His gaze is hypnotizing you, coaxing you to tell him everything, starting with why you’re here, ending with your deepest desires. If he wasn’t looking like an angel, you’d swear he had to be the devil.

“Yeah… I need you to kiss me at midnight.”

His eyebrow arches, one corner of his lips rising in a lopsided smile that sends your brain into frenzy; by the time his hands release you, only to have one arm wrap around your waist to pull you closer, your thoughts are a static noise.

“Is that so, sweetheart?”

You nod, your tongue feeling heavy as his gaze flickers down to your lips; you painted them red, as if you could be a seductress, as if you knew your friends would dare you to do exactly what you were doing now.

“I think I can do that… but will you tell me why?”

“They said that unless I find the prettiest guy in the room and kiss him at midnight, they’ll put my last name and coward in one sentence!” you blab them out, a note of accusation in your voice.

Time freezes for a second; a long enough second for you to regret saying it, regret having drunk, regret your choice of friends-

And then the man laughs, a warm sound of undiluted joy, his body shaking against yours but his free hand moves to cradle your cheek and angle your head up, his eyes glimmering like the night sky on a clear December night, the heat of his palm – and his arm pulling you even closer to him – poured all over your skin.

“And you couldn’t have that, could you?”

“No,” you chip, your own lips slowly curling up in a grin as his thumb caresses your cheek softly.

“And you didn’t even hesitate and chose me right away now that I’m finally here, did you?”

“Mmmm, I mean-“

His grip on your chin grows a little firmer, sending delight through your veins, your breathing picking up as his lips, so tempting, near yours.

“Hush, Mrs. Rogers… say you didn’t hesitate and I’ll kiss you right now,” he coaxed, his lips so close to yours you can almost taste how delicious the kiss will be, the thrill of being called Mrs. Rogers, even as you’ve been called it over and over for months now, sending a pleasant shiver through your body.

“That wasn’t the dare… but no. I didn’t hesitate, love. It’s always you,” you whisper, brushing your lips to his only to retreat, to repay his teasing just a bit, even as you know what a thrilling thought of being your first and only choice does to him, the soundless purr in his chest oh so sweet against your palm. “And you can kiss me whenever… in fact, please do.”

The deafening wolf-whistles from your friends become but a background noise, your whole world shrinking to a six foot four man, a wall of warm muscle holding you gently but suddenly kissing you with vigour, hand firmly planted on the back of your neck as he devours your mouth, because goddamn did he miss you just as you missed him and neither of you could care less for fireworks going off in a few minutes, because the real spark is right here, between you, within you, shared by steady, slow and downright criminally indulgent press of lips to lips.

The kiss is probably indecent to watch; but you don’t care.

Such is the problem of champagne; it makes you care zilch about what other people think, unless maybe your husband’s name – your last name – is threatened. 

Your friends, those you contemplated changing for another, probably knew all along what they were doing, noticing Steve’s arrival before you did; but you’ll realize that later on, after your brain reboots.

Until then, there’s your husband, handsome all hell and solid and warm and safe and perfect and yours, and that’s all that matters.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, love.”

“Happy New Year’s Eve indeed. Welcome home, Steve.”

Many thanks for sending this request and enabling me to write a proper end-of-year fic ✨ HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL 💕

And thank you for reading and potential feedback!

You can find my other works on my masterlist, should you be interested 😇

Divider by @firefly-graphics

[stillgotscars]

How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again

[stellar-collective]

If you're still taking requests (/nf /gen):

Phoenix and everyone else enjoying fireworks on New Year's?

Reginald is telling Phoenix that he’s surprised they’re not off running the firework show, and they’re telling him that they were asked but they decided to hang out with their friends instead. this is a lie they got hard banned from using fireworks while drunk which, as its New Years, they most definitely are

here’s the version with the flat colors bc i think this is the first time i’ve drawn them all together and idk i like them :]

[httpiastri]

Never getting tired of seeing paul on the podium 🫠

sorry jack can't come to the phone right now, she's busy admiring the guy in second place in the championship

[kewpiekills]

Your dog lady and catgirl maid mean so much to me to this day I hope you know that. When you draw women w nipples through the shirt I gain years on my life. the joy u put on this earth is immesurable. also you draw good faces

Champagne and her lucky cat maids… i realize now i’ve never posted the other maid designs. i should get on that

[illjustpretend]

he plans a big shindig at his wizard tower (invites all his new friends) and loses his nerve instantly

[tomwaterbabies]

Hii :))

It'd be lovely to see Varian and Hugo dancing together on a fancy ball with fancy clothes (or if you don't want that, just them on a fancy ball with fancy clothes (maybe laughing at something together, drinking champagne or wine - but that's just a suggestion) would be amazing too)

Have a nice day!! 💖💖

they are making fun of the nobles

[ask-the-biggering-onceler]

Hello mister onceler, it’s a pleasure meeting you. I have a rather odd question to ask since it’s currently midnight and I’m sleep deprived. Have you ever drank to the point of getting tipsy? If so ,have you ever done or said anything embarrassing?

Why, it's a pleasure meeting you too~!!

Hmm...Well, after the celebration of the Millionth Thneed around last month, I suppose I did have a few drinks. I mean, who wouldn't, right? This was a moment to remember!! And I--

Doors open

Uhm, Brett? Chet? What do you guys need--

Stifled giggles

...WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT NO DON'T YOU DARE DON'T TOUCH MY COMPUTER DON'T!!--

MOTHERFU--

[lulublack90]

Prompt 10 - Achieve

@jegulus-microfic June 10, Word count 499

Previous part First part

Regulus was trying to enjoy his breakfast. The bacon was a bit crispier than he would have liked, but he was blaming Marlene for that. He liked Marlene, he really did, but in small doses and preferably when Sirius wasn’t around, but as she was Sirius’s friend, that tended not to happen. 

“I still can’t get over that you all met on holiday. It’s just crazy.” Marlene said around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Regulus tried not to gag at the sight. 

“I know right,” Sirius grinned with an equally full mouth of eggs. Honestly, if he hadn’t known his parents so well, he would have sworn Sirius and Marlene were twins. 

“I mean, I kinda get Reggie and Jamie but Dr Lupin? That one is wrinkling my brain.” Regulus looked at James, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He turned to Remus. He was not. 

“You can call me Remus, Marlene. We’re not at the surgery,” Remus said stiffly. 

“Marlene?” Regulus asked. “Why are you even here?” He realised that she hadn’t actually said once they’d been wrapped up in the chaos. She paused, and her mouth dropped open. 

“OH MY GOD!!! How did I forget?” She let her knife and fork clatter onto her plate before she slammed her hands down on the table, rattling everything else. “You all know how I strive to achieve greatness?!” A collection of groans sounded around the table. “I shall take that as a yes.” She shook her head at them. “Well as of last night, I am an engaged woman!” She thrust out her left hand and showed off the sparkly engagement ring wrapped around her ring finger. 

“Holy crap!” Sirius jumped out of his chair and tackled her to the ground. “Marlene, that’s amazing! Regulus go get the champagne!” He exclaimed as he and Marlene rolled around on the floor in their bear hug. 

“Sirius, it’s 9 o’clock in the morning,” Regulus stated. 

“Well, mix it with orange juice and call it Bucks Fizz. Either way, we are opening a bottle,” Sirius ordered. Reluctantly, Regulus went down to the cellar and grabbed one of the bottles. James was getting glasses out of the cupboard and setting them on the counter for Regulus to fill when he returned to the kitchen. He carefully popped the cork out with a good pop and filled the glasses. 

“To Marlene and Dorcas!” Sirius toasted, raising his glass high in the air. 

“To Marlene and Dorcas!” They chorused back. 

“Where is Dorcas?” James asked.

“Crap!” Marlene gasped. She downed her glass and ran out of the room. “I left her in bed!” The door slammed shut, and the house was quiet. 

“Why was she so worried about leaving her fiancé in bed?” Remus questioned as he took a sip from his drink. Sirius and James both snorted and quickly tipped their glasses up. 

“Don’t ask,” Regulus warned as he refilled his glass and topped everyone else’s up. Remus wisely didn’t press the matter.  

Next part

[stood-onthecliffside]

swiftie gift exchange for @catastrxblues

[hotvintagepoll]

Why do poll losers go to the shadow realm? 🥺

There is nowhere else for them to go. They are not deemed hot. They are not allowed up on the surface world, where the hot people are. The only door open to them is the door to 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔴.

[regular-gnome]

so your telling me your mom spent new year in a hospital bed?