#nothing quite like sharing your interests with the ones you love 💕

[veinsfullofstars]

💝 MetaDede Week 2024 Day 3: Gifts 💝

(ID: Kirby series fanart of King Dedede and Meta Knight giving each other a gift. Top - the boys sitting side-by-side, MK looking up with a pleased smile behind his mask as DDD excitedly flips through a green leather-bound book the knight has given him, the spine titled “Fight the Stars!” and an arrow pointing to it that says “book of famous intergalactic wrestlers.” Bottom - the boys seated at a table, a chocolate parfait in a large handled glass between them, the treat layered with fudge, mousse, and ice cream, topped with brownie bites, edible silver pearls, and a fanned wedge of chocolate emblazoned with MK’s mask. MK, delighted by the gift, leans forward with wide eyes and spread wings, practically leaping onto the table in his eagerness to dig in, while DDD reclines with his elbow propped up and his head resting in his hand, gazing at the knight with a soft smile. END ID.)

Parfait inspired by various MK-themed desserts from the Kirby Café.

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/mtddweek)

Started 08/11/24, finished 08/16/24.

[mariasont]

I'm so glad you love writing for bimbo reader x Hotch because i love READING them so much 💕

What about reader getting jealous a witness or unsub is flirting with Hotch? Kinda like how the prostitutes are always flirting with Reid but this time it's Hotch getting all awkward and reader misreading it and thinking he's interested back?

Love your stuff!

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY - A.H

a/n: hi so im so glad you love bimbo reader 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 that literally makes me so happy, thank you sm for requesting i hope you like that <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: reader being jelly, kind of out of character for bimbo reader honestly, she’s also a little flustered in this fic which also feels out of character but i kind of like it idk lmk what yall think

wc: 1.2k

The space between her hand and Hotch's bicep was dangerously narrow. She was saying something--something that was way flirtier than the situation required. Matter of fact than any situation required. Your pink nails, the same shade as your favorite bubblegum lip gloss, dug into the flesh of your palm, your lips forming a tight line as you fought the green jealousy that bubbled up like champagne.

It was fine. You were fine.

Until it wasn't.

She flashed a smile at Hotch, one that was undeniably pretty which only served to make your blood boil a degree hotter.

She was stunning, black hair, red lips, perfect skin. You loved yourself, obviously, but it was not in your character to deny that this woman was gorgeous by nature and she was edgeding her chair closer to him.

"Thank you so much for your help today, Agent Hotchner." Her voice had climbed a few pitches in comparison than when she was talking privately with you. "Is it okay if I give you my number, just in case I think of anything else?"

"Of course." Hotch was smiling-- no beaming--at the woman, reaching into his pocket to grab his business card.

Your lashes fluttered up and down is disbelief, jealously rolling off of you in category nine waves. You folded your hands on top of your skirt, cleaning and unclenching until you started to lose feeling in your fingertips.

You're fine, just take a deep breath. Hotch was simply being polite. That's it. But the rationalized thoughts in your head did not match the quicksand feeling in your stomach.

Unfortunately for you, showing and expressing your feelings in an appropriate manner had always been a struggle. Articulating when things were bothering you was a foreign language to you. The other side to this was you had no logical reason to feel the way you did. He was your boss, and you were his assistant. He wasn't your boyfriend. But that fine distinction did nothing to dampen the primal impulse to reach across the desk and drag the woman by her hair. 

That was dramatic, really. It was unfair to project your ugly feelings onto her when in all honestly, in her position, you’d be doing the exact same.

As much as you loved your job and adored your boss, sometimes you wished you didn’t work for him so you could push the boundaries just a little bit when it came to flirting with him.

Thankfully, for the sake of your career, the woman gone before your rash instincts could manifest into action. You needed to get a grip and possibly go reapply your lipstick.

You spent the majority of the day, from that point, avoiding Hotch like the plague. You weren't quite equipped to sift through the emotional chaos brewing inside you, especially when your focus needed to be on getting your tasks done, not on who Hotch might be interested in. It didn't matter if he liked that woman. You could cope. Maybe.

When you did have to come into contact with him, you found yourself acting like a wounded animal. The sight of his face only served to replay that stupid smile he flashed at her. He was probably already in love, daydreaming about their shared life ahead. Their three kids, the white picket fence, maybe even a dog.

You flipped open your makeup mirror, dabbing powder on to your nose and forehead while mentally reminding yourself to pull it together and behave like the grown-up you were supposed to be.

No sooner had you left the bathroom had you crashed into something, legs betraying you as you lurched forward, nearly spiraling to the floor. Your hands shot out, closing around the nearest object which felt to be the lapels of a suit. 

Your gaze snapped into sharp focus. Yes, definitely the lapels of a suit, and not just any suit--It was Hotch's.

Fantastic.

You quickly retracted your hands, letting them hang limply by your sides as you took a cautious step backward.

His brows furrowed, lips tipping downward as he absently adjusted his watch. "You okay?"

"Peachy!”

That was too much.

You attempted to sidestep him, but he anticipated the move. His arm reached out with surprising speed, fastening around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Hey." It was funny how a single word in that deep voice of his was enough to make your heart beat a little faster. "You've been avoiding me all day. I don't want to pry, but if there's something I've done to upset you, I'd like to know so we can clear the air."

"What?" you responded too quickly, avoiding his gaze as your hand went to your neck. "Oh, no, no, it's not you, sir. I just... I think I might be catching a cold or something. Just feeling a bit woozy."

You were definitely coming down with something—it was a green, nasty disease that had your judgement in a clouded haze.

He smiled, making your heart go into overdrive. "You're a terrible liar."

"No idea what you mean." Your voice went up an octave too high. "But, um, there's a bunch of witnesses I need to follow up with. There's this one who was... really eager. Maybe she'd respond better to you?"

There was a pause before Hotch spoke, his voice low and certain. "I've seen many reactions from you, but jealousy? Is that what's happening here?"

You blinked rapidly, heat rising to your cheeks. "Jealous? That's... that's ridiculous."

"I'd like to think I know you better than that." He gave you a deadpan look. "You've been avoiding eye contact, you've been unusually quiet, and I didn't necessarily miss that look you gave her."

You swallowed hard, proving him right and looking anywhere but him as you fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. 

"It's not... it's just, you know... I don't know, the smile you gave her, it seemed a bit unprofessional to me."

Your words tumbled out in a flustered rush, not capable of taking them back as you realized the absurdity of it all.

Hotch's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Unprofessional? Did it look like I was flirting? Because that would be a first."

"No, I don't think you were flirting, not exactly." You should stop yourself while you're ahead. "But she was, and you didn't exactly shut it down."

Hotch's face was unreadable. "Honestly, I didn't even realize she was flirting with me. Even so, I'm curious—why would that bother you?"

"Well, I mean, I... It doesn't, not really. I just think we should all be focused, that's all," you managed, voice faltering as you tried to be convincing.

"I assure you, my focus is on all the right places," Hotch said, taking a step closer that almost felt invasive. His gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before snapping back up to your eyes.

"O-okay."

The closeness of him was sending your body into overdrive, the room suddenly feeling too small, his presence way too intense.

"And just for the record," Hotch said over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "If I were to flirt, trust me, it would be with someone who already had all my attention."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash

[therealcocoshady]

Football season - Commission

Author’s Note : Hi guys ! It’s been a while since I last posted something 😉. It is my great pleasure to share this little one shot that was commissioned to me on my Ko-Fi page 💕. I still take requests via Asks but Ko-Fi commissions are prioritized 😉.

Also, thank you to anyone who tips & commissions. It means a lot to a struggling PhD student 💕.

Enjoy !

Football season had officially started and to say you were disappointed was an understatement. You thought you’d enjoy watching games with Marshall in the comfort of your living room, resting on his lap and cuddle with him, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. There was nothing cute or romantic. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It involved grown men yelling in your living room, screaming at the players on TV, spilling food everywhere. You could have turned a blind eye if Marshall had made any effort to make it up to you but… no. Your weekly date night had been replaced by football night and, though at first you had decided to make peace with it, you were fed up. He could have included you in this whole thing but the only time you had tried to watch the game with him and his friends, you had made the cardinal mistake of asking some clarification about the rules, only to be shushed by your man. So, whenever the guys came over (which means whenever they were not actually at the stadium), you retreated to another room after greeting them. You still tried to make an effort and ask Marshall how it went whenever he went to find you after the game, but you weren’t really interested. You had gone a whole six weeks without going on a single date and you felt neglected. Maybe you should have expected this. Maybe being taken for granted happens after moving in together with the man you love. Maybe every woman in America has to put up with something similar. Except you weren’t every woman in America. You were the one and only woman who managed to capture the heart of Marshall Mathers, who already had to put up with a lot, and who deserved a whole lot better than this. You knew your worth and, if Marshall needed to be reminded of who he was living with, you would happily do it.

- Hey pretty girl, he said lovingly as you walked down the stairs in one of your prettiest dresses that you knew he loved. Where are you going dressed like this ?

- On a date, you said casually as you pecked his cheek. Have fun with the guys today.

- Date ? What date ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- The one my boyfriend will not take me on, you shrugged.

With these words, you left the room before he could even reply. If he didn’t want to take you out, fine. You were a grown woman and you were determined to give yourself what you deserved. In this case, a nice meal in your favorite fancy restaurant, some retail therapy and even a spa session. You were worth it. Sure, not everyone in your household seemed to know it, but you absolutely refused to let it undermine you. So you had the loveliest day by yourself, enjoying the absence of grown men yelling at some football players, as if they could do better on the field. The people you saw at the restaurant were dressed normally and you didn’t have to do put up with corny football apparel. And as you tried on dresses in your favorite store, you purposefully avoided the one in a shade of blue that reminded you of the Detroit Lions logo. You ended up treating yourself to a new dress, a cute lingerie set and a new handbag you’d been eyeing for a while. You ended the day with a trip to your favorite spa where you got a massage. Your whole « date with yourself » was insanely relaxing, and all frustration was gone when you walked back in the house, carrying your bags. As soon as you opened the door, Marshall came to greet you and took the bags from your hands so that you wouldn’t have to carry them. The whole house was clean and calm. A far cry from the usual mess on game night, when his friends would often stay late.

- Where’s everyone ? You asked.

- Sent them home after the game, he said with a smile.

- Did the team lose ?

- Nope, he replied. We won. But I figured we could use a night just the two of us. So that I can make it up to you for being a bad boyfriend.

You cupped his cheek and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

- It’s fine, you shrugged.

- It’s not, he said. I don’t want you to think I’m taking you for granted. I got a little carried away with football and I know it’s on me for missing date night but… I miss you, babe.

- I miss you too, you cooed as he pulled you in a hug.

- How was your date with yourself ? He asked. Did you have a good time ?

- I did, you said with a smile. Did some shopping, went to a nice restaurant and even got a massage. I’m good company.

- This, I know, he chuckled.

- The date was so good I’d deserve to seal the deal, you grinned.

- Oh really ? He asked with a smirk.

- Yes, you hummed. Definitely taking myself to bed and getting some.

- Any way I can get an invite ? He asked lovingly as he cupped your ass.

- Do you think you deserve one ? You giggled.

He smiled and kissed you before leading you to the living room. A huge bouquet of your favorite flowers was standing on the coffee table, and he had prepared a small set up with your favorite snacks and drinks in front of the TV, complete with some cute candles.

- I though we could have a little date night, he suggested. Unless you-

- It’s just perfect, you cooed.

- How about your show me what you bought, doll ? He suggested.

You grabbed the bags and showed him your purchases. You ended up trying on the dress for him and showing him the bag.

- What’s in that box ? He asked as he pointed to the only thing you hadn’t shown him yet.

- Lingerie, you hummed.

- Don’t you want to show me ? He asked innocently.

- Not sure you deserve it just yet, you grinned.

He chuckled and you could see in his eyes that he relished the challenge. He was the most competitive person you knew. You should have known he’d take it this way. Still, you made sure to playfully roll your eyes. The two of you ended up lounging on the couch, watching a movie. Marshall even let you choose, and you happily put on a crappy chick flick, your guilty pleasure. You were cuddling, curled up on his side while he played with the hem of your new dress, not really paying attention to the movie.

- You’re so pretty, he whispered. I’m the luckiest man on earth.

- Glad you finally recognize it, you grinned.

- I love the guys but, frankly, game night doesn’t compare to this, he continued as he buried his face in your neck before placing a kiss there.

You let out a soft giggle and enjoyed the warmth of his embrace while you focused on the movie. With each passing minute, he held you a little closer and, eventually, you ended up on his lap, munching on popcorn while he stroked your thigh, his fingers going higher and higher as time went on.

- Marshall, you lightly scolded.

- But you’re so pretty, he whispered. And your skin is so soft.

- I blame the body oil they used for the message, you hummed.

- I could have given you a massage if you’d asked, he grinned.

- Right, you chortled.

- Don’t believe me ? He asked.

- You would have taken advantage, you hummed. Can’t keep your hands to yourself.

- How can I be expected to, when you’re so beautiful ? He asked before mouthing at your neck from behind.

You let out a sight of satisfaction and you could feel smile against your skin. How could you be expected to stay mad at him when he was being so adorable ? He kept on stroking your thigh, while one of his hand gently cupped your boob, thumb grazing over your nipple. You let out a small moan, unable to hide your pleasure.

- How could I neglect you like this, love ? He whispered. Gotta make it up to you, yeah ?

- Yeah, you said breathily.

His hand that was on your thigh traveled higher to go and cup your pussy over the lace of your panties, as he kept on fondling your boob.

- Marsh-… th-the movie, you said unconvincingly.

- Keep watching, babe, I got you, he said seductively.

Before you could say anything, he got up and let you settle in the couch, before kneeling between your legs and removing your panties.

- Let me make it up to you, he pleaded.

You nodded and he bunched your dress up to your waist, getting a better access to your pussy that was already throbbing with anticipation. Without a second of hesitation, he buried his face between your legs and began eating you out, gently exploring your folds with his tongue. You were so comfortable, resting against the couch pillows, your head against the headrest, all you had to do was to enjoy the moment and, boy, did he make it enjoyable. He took his sweet time, as if he was enjoying a gourmet meal, softly teasing your clit. His hands were on your thighs, keeping them apart, fingers gently digging into your skin. You watched him from above, enjoying how focused he was, eyes closed, dedicating himself to it, to you. You ran your hand in his hair, prompting him to keep going, which he happily did. His tongue was soft against your bud, sending shivers in your whole body. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the heavenly sensation of your man pleasuring you.

- I love you, you whimpered.

He hummed, sending vibrations against your pussy, making you moan. You could feel your own wetness, only increased by his saliva. He gently inserted a finger in you and you almost felt relieved. You abandoned yourself to the sweet sensation and, soon enough, upon seeing how wet you were, he added another one, gently curling them so that they’d hit that sweet spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t hold your mewls, the combination of him sucking on your clit and fingering you at the same time making you feel ecstatic. You tightened the grip on his head, unconsciously praying he wouldn’t stop, and this prompted him to quicken the pace of his fingers. You could feel your toes curl and pleasure tickle your body as your breathing accelerated, your climax being near. Your heard yourself beg for relief and Marshall happily obliged, making you cry tears of euphoria. You could feel him smile against your pussy and he placed a kiss on your inner thigh before getting up and kissing you. You were all zoned out, the couch having turned into a cloud. He chuckled as soon as he saw your face and he gently cupped your cheek, admiring the glow the orgasm gave you.

- I’m so in love with you, he said.

- I love you, you cooed. Do you want me to-

- I’m good, love, he replied with a smile. It’s all about you.

You hummed before shivering a bit, making him chuckle. He always made fun of how you were always cold after having an orgasm. He grabbed one of his hoodies that was nearby and handed it to you. You kissed him lovingly as a thank you and decided to go change, putting a PJ short, a tank top and his hoodie. When you got back to the living room, he gestured for you to sit in his lap and you cuddled while watching what was left of the movie. Evidently, you hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what was on screen. You tried to catch up, enjoying Marshall’s arms around you. There was what you missed about date night : time set aside just for the two of you, his warm presence and his intoxicating cologne. You didn’t need much. When the movie ended, he led you to the bedroom and you laid in bed while he undressed, only keeping his boxers on. You couldn’t help but stare as he removed his tee-shirt, revealing his perfect chest, toned abs and muscular pecs. You’d been together for a while but every single time you saw this man undress, you found yourself to be under his spell.

- Your parents never told you you shouldn’t stare ? He grinned.

- I wouldn’t stare if the view wasn’t worthy, you said innocently.

- You say it as if you weren’t a fucking art piece yourself, he scoffed.

- Right, you chortled.

- I mean it, he replied with a smile as he joined you in bed and pulled you to him. You are stunning. I love you in my hoodies.

- I do love wearing them, you admitted.

He smiled and kissed your temple before turning the lights off and pulling you to him once again, absolutely refusing for there to be any distance between your bodies.

- Thanks for tonight, you whispered as you buried your face in his neck. I missed having you all to myself.

- I’m sorry I got caught up in work and football, he said. I’ll do better. I didn’t realize you were so pissed.

- Ok, you said softly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be all dramatic when I left. I was just annoyed. But tonight made it better.

- I’m glad, he replied with a smile you could hear. I’m sorry.

- Stop apologizing, you giggled. I’ve already forgiven you.

- Yeah. Sorr-

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you turned and kissed him so that he’d shut up. You could feel his lips twitching into a grin as he kissed you back. What started as a soft peck quickly turned into a hot and steamy make out session and it didn’t take long for Marshall’s hands to wander under his hoodie, stroking the warm skin in your back. You were straddling him and you could feel his bulge against your clad pussy (though the fabric definitely wasn’t too thick). You started to grind slowly, earning a groan and a sigh of pleasure. He gently bit your lower lip and you ground a little harder against his hardness. He was quick to remove both your (his) hoodie and your tank top, his hands finding their way to your front, cupping your breasts, gently teasing your nipples. He sat up, firmly keeping you in place, so that he was able to suck on your tit, making you whimper as you kept dry humping him.

- Need you, you whispered breathily.

A couple of seconds later, your shorts and his boxers were on the floor and you were lowering yourself onto him, feeling your pussy stretching, adjusting to his size. It stung a bit, in spite of your evident arousal. You let out a throaty moan as you took all of him and he gave you a satisfied grunt. You started moving your hips slowly, enjoying each and every sensation, the friction directly stimulating your swollen clit. Marshall’s hips moved in sync with yours, setting a gentle pace that allowed the two of you to enjoy the connection. He placed a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss that was worth a thousand words, while he grabbed a handful of your ass with his free hand. You were chest to chest, lips connected and you moved your hips, attempting to quicken the pace, but he refused to collaborate, opting for slower motions. His thrusts were deliberately unhurried, but you could feel him deep inside you, almost gasping each time he hit your cervix. You could swear you felt him in your whole abdomen. You moaned into the kisses, enjoying the pleasurable pain of feeling him so well, appreciating the fix of your favorite drug : him. You were in ecstasy, wrapped in each other’s embrace, both of your whimpers filling the room. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and made you roll on the mattress so that he’d be on top, shifting you to a missionary position that allowed him to stare at you, even in the obscurity. You couldn’t see much of the room around you, but you managed to gaze into each other’s eyes, almost connecting to each other’s soul. You cupped his cheek and placed kisses on his jaw as he finally quickened his pace, closing his eyes as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, as if to make sure he wouldn’t stop, and you felt your thighs clench around him as the both of you came at the same time. A second later, your man nearly collapsed on top of you.

- I love you, you whispered as you ran your fingers through his hair.

- I love you too, he said emotionally. More than anything.

- More than football ? You giggled.

- More than football, he chuckled.

You closed your eyes and you held each other as the both of you drifted to sleep without bothering to change position.

[moonselune]

Hello. May I get an Astarion x Tav story? Tav was secretly creating a blanket for Astarion by themselves, but he sees them working on it. Instead of immediately revealing that it's for him, they have him help make it until it's finished. 💕

Awwwwwwwwwww I love this xx

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x gn!reader : Sewn

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been secretly working on a special gift for Astarion—a finely crafted blanket. Each night, after everyone else had fallen asleep, and you were Astarion was out on his nightly hunt, you would take out the materials you had gathered from the day and quietly work on your project. The blanket was a tapestry of your shared adventures, each patch representing a memory or a place you had visited together. You were determined to finish it without him knowing, eager to surprise him with a gift that carried so much meaning. The gods knew he deserved it.

One evening, while you were diligently sewing a particularly intricate pattern, Astarion flounced into your tent, complaining that there was nothing good out in the woods to eat, eyelashes batting and a persuasive pout on his lips, intending to ask you for a little nibble.

“It's a travesty, truly I'm going to starve - Oh darling! What are you working on?” Astarion asked, his voice smooth and curious as he walked over to you.

You quickly tried to hide the blanket under your clothes you had laid out for tomorrow, but it was too late. His beady eyes had already latched on to it.

“Oh, just a little project. Nothing special,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Astarion raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. “A little project, you say? It looks rather intricate for something trivial.”

Caught, you sighed and decided to take a different approach. “Alright, you caught me. It’s a blanket, and I could use some help with it. Care to join?”

His curiosity piqued, Astarion sat down beside you. “A blanket? How intriguing. What’s the occasion?”

You smiled mysteriously, not ready to reveal the full truth. “Let’s just say it’s for someone very special.”

Astarion’s eyes sparkled with interest as he took a seat next to you, and you handed him some thread and fabric. "Alright then, gods knows you need by help your thread work is positively backwards- ."

"-You don't have to help, me Astarion," You playfully chided him and he huffed settling down, not wanting to get kicked out of your tent. You smiled and the two of you worked in tandem, a bit of gossip shared between you.

As the days went by, Astarion grew more invested in the 'project'. You both spent hours working side by side, sharing the trials and tribulations of the day with each other. The blanket gradually took shape, and you had to admit that perhaps Astarion was a better sewer than you.

One evening, as the fire crackled and the blanket was nearly complete, Astarion paused, looking at the almost-finished product. “You know, this blanket is quite beautiful. Whoever it’s for is very fortunate indeed.”

You smiled, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “Very fortunate indeed, in face look here, Astarion," Taking a deep breath, you laid the blanket out in front of him. “This blanket is for you, Astarion. Every patch, every stitch, it’s all to remind you of our journey together.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened with an emotion you rarely saw—vulnerability. “For me?” he whispered, his voice almost trembling.

“Yes,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “I wanted to give you something that shows how much you mean to me. How much our time together has meant.”

For a moment, Astarion was silent, his eyes tracing the patterns and symbols on the blanket. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. “You crafty minx,” he murmured, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “You’ve managed to surprise me, and darling, that’s no easy feat.”

You laughed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?” Astarion shook his head, his eyes shining with affection. “I love it. And I love you, my dear.”

Little short wholesome piece for y'all, hope you all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[harufluff]

enhypen on your bday /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

warnings - mentions of food, lots of skinship :))

genre - fluff, enhypen x fem!reader, established relationship au, non-idol au

wc - 3.9k words

happy birthday to me and sorn 🥳💕

lee heeseung

honestly he wanted nothing more than to make you feel special. he had a hard time figuring out what to do with you cause you’re never specific about what exactly you want.

hee ends up making you a cute handmade card with a bunch of kisses that he used your lipstick to make 🫠🫠

ends up accidentally sleeping over at your place the night before and having to run back to his apartment before you wake up, to which you thank him for when he comes back :))

more undercut !!

park jay

another who just has a need to make you feel special. but jay’s love language is gift giving, so obviously he was a little flashier.

wakes you up in the morning with breakfast in bed and cuddles with you until 1 o’clock, when he makes you get ready and go shopping with him. he gets you everything that you are even remotely interested in cause he wants you to have everything you want :DD

at the end of the night, jay takes you to a nice restaurant and you end the night with a movie night together in the comfort of your shared home 💕💕

sim jake

wants you so see quite literally everyone who you care about. jakes such a sweetheart that he plans everything and anything for the day months ahead of time.

he makes all the calls to your family, friends, and even just the girl at the grocery store you like talking to lol. the entire day gets him kinda stressed out, but he’s just happy you’re having fun and enjoying your special day.

the two of you end up just laying in bed and falling asleep at 9 o’clock to some old movie in the background 💞

park sunghoon

another one who thinks a handmade gift and a good meal are the perfect thing ⭐️⭐️ he gets to your place around 9 o’clock cause he wanted to let you sleep in, but he also wanted to be the first person you see when you woke up.

he made you one of those cute little ‘boyfriend coupons’ that you see on pinterest, and was considering putting his on pinterest himself.

sunghoon spent the whole day with you in his arms and he quite literally would not take his hands off you urgen after both of you were sleeping peacefully in bed with the love of your lives.

kim sunoo

more shopping to make his birthday girl feel special!! his main focus of the day was just to spend as much time with you before you were whisked off by your friends at night time (that he planned to have them do)

he made sure that you were having fun every second of the day, to which you answered with yes every time. sunoo with his fluffy personality shinning through, pre-ordered cute matching hoodies with his and your own initial ❤️❤️

after picking you back up from hanging out with your friends, he drew a bath for you and you ended the night with some good snacks and your perfect boyfriend.

yang jungwon

also wants your birthday to be perfect, but also wants to be a little selfish for once and keep you to yourself. he had asked you what you wanted to do weeks prior and you had both agreed that you wanted to just stay at home together on the day of, and then have some fun the day after.

he was completely ecstatic. he started off the day with waking you up with sweet words in your ears and a cute stuffed animal given to you by wonnie. throughout the day you lounged around the house together, in the kitchen, living room, bedroom, honestly even the bathroom.

a calm day with your sheep was all you wanted and much more needed for your special day :))

nishimura riki

part of him wanted to stay home and cuddle with his birthday girl, but the other side of him wanted to have a cute little date day. he decided that he wanted to bring you to pottery studio and glaze some cups. he had jay help him plan the scheduling

if he’s being honest, he thought you looked adorable focusing on painting with your tongue poking the side of your cheek.

when you got home, he literally tackled you into the couch, which is where you stayed for hours and letting some show fade into the background as you basked in each other comforting presence.

©️harufluff 2023

hope you liked it!! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: I have been wanting to write a Joel inspired Moulin Rouge story for a couple months now. Didn’t know what the storyline would be, didn’t know how to quite put it together until I was listening to “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers. Needless to say, the song majorly inspired this one shot. So I hope you enjoy all the angsty Joel feelings since this is in his POV 🥰 We love a good angsty, jealous Joel. Enjoy, lovelies! This might very well turn into a full series once I finish up some of my other wips if people are interested ❤️ Comments and reblogs always make my day 💕

“His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It’s more than I can stand.”

- “El Tango De Roxanne” from Moulin Rouge

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Pairings: Joel Miller x Moulin Rouge fem dancer! reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Angst, longing, love, jealousy, flashbacks, no outbreak! Joel, Joel’s POV

Summary: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge where touches and gazing eyes turn to feelings and longing that overpowers all senses. That’s where Joel meets you, the girl of all his desires. The girl that starts a fire inside him that he can’t control. But he’s not the only one after her. No. And he’ll have to share even though it destroys him.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The night is dark, foggy, a haze of misty rainfall that pelts against his thin tan jacket. Drip, drip. The rain comes down harder, beating against the slicked back tousled curls that now lay flat against his head. The air is cold, numbing, just like his chest feels now. It’s as icy as his begrudging, still beating heart.

He can hear it, feel it. Almost like he’s there in the room right now with you. He can feel the way the other man claws at your soft skin, hears the stadistic words that spray like venom out of his dirty mouth to you, can taste the way he dips his vicious tongue into your inviting mouth as you swallow the guilt and disgust away deep down your closed-up throat. It burns like hot lava, burns like the back of a knife that cuts deep into his skin that smothers all nerve endings in one slice.

He can hear your faint cries of moans, feel you come apart around the other man, taste the stench of regret on your binded hands. You’re supposed to be his, not the other man’s. Mine, mine, mine. That’s all that plays in his aching head.

Jealousy. That’s what this is, that’s what it’s always been. Ever since he found out that you belonged to him. Terrance. The other man. The absolute pain in his spine. And it wasn’t by choice, it was never by choice. It was arranged, an untieable agreement that was set in place by your uncle long before Joel even knew about it.

It was about money. It was always about the fucking money. It was to save your future, to get you out of the Moulin Rouge. But it was also about all the wealth your uncle would get out of the arrangement. And it was so fucked that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the mess he was tangled in, but he wanted you. He wanted you so goddamn bad and nothing could keep him from having you.

The rain continues, lightning crackling in the near distance as the Moulin Rouge sign blinks big red shaded letters over the whole city to see. It’s pulling the men in, calling their names to invite them into the twisted little fantasy where they’ll spend all their money and pay anything to sleep with the beautiful women of the Moulin Rouge.

The jealousy eats at him, consumes him as it twists its suffocating roots around his wrists and binds him to the ground where he has to watch you go into that back room of the Moulin Rouge with Terrance night after night.

It’s dismantling, unnerving to watch when there’s nothing he can do. He’s just a poor carpenter. He has no money to save you from this hell, has nothing to give except himself. But you always tell him that’s enough, that he’s enough for you. Because you want him, just like he wants you. He tells you he’s not good enough for you, can’t give you a bright future that you deserve. But you tell him he’s enough, more than enough. And it shakes him to the core every single time you tell him this.

His fingernails dig into the backs of his palms, almost to the point of feeling warm blood all over his hands. It’s too much, this is too much. He can hardly stand to even think of you in another man's arms. It burns, stings, pulls at him as his mind breaks apart. Ticking and ticking until he’s almost combusted into dust and remorse.

He needs to feel you, needs to wrap you in his arms as he holds you close in his little barely affordable single bedroom apartment. You always say you don’t care about the money, always say you just want him. And it makes the yearning even worse. Makes it barely tolerable.

You’ll come back, run to him when it’s all over, tell him how much you hate Terrance. Tell him how mean and cruel he is and that he just uses your body like a piece of meat, a golden trophy to display to all the rich, entitled pricks in the burlesque. It makes him sick, sicker than a starving dog. He wants to wring Terrance’s neck until he stops breathing, wants to really make him feel the pain that he does when you’re rolling around the sheets with Terrance, forced to perform for him. It makes him sick to death.

He takes a drag of his cheap Marlboro and inhales the toxic smoke as it soothes his racing heart, slowly blowing it out to try and clear his foggy, lovesick brain. He can almost smell the expensive brand of Cuban cigars Terrance lights after he fucks you, can almost see the way you lay there cold, lonely, in a heap of shame against the damp sheets. And it makes his skin absolutely boil with fury and resentment.

He’s not like Terrance. No. He cares about you, deeply, irrevocably. He’s always so careful with you, always so gentle and soothing and loving. He never does anything to hurt you, always puts your needs first, always takes care of you after he makes love to you in his tiny apartment. He loves you. Just like you love him, immensely.

He remembers the first night he came to the burlesque. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, but he found a group of unlikely writers that dragged him to the Moulin Rouge, to his doom. Remembers how he bought a bottle of whiskey that was so expensive he didn’t eat for two days after. He remembers the night so clearly, just like it was yesterday. Just like it was happening now.

He remembers seeing you for the first time up on that lit up stage, remembers how you kept glancing his way, eyes locking with his as you pulled him into a trance that was so strong that nothing could break it. He was hooked on the first look of your long waves that spiraled down your back, entranced by your big, beautiful eyes that called to him like a siren’s forbidden song, captured with the way your short, flowy pink dress hiked up your smooth thighs as tall, translucent heels wrapped around your feet as tight as they latched onto him.

He wasn’t supposed to end up in that dark room alone with you, wasn’t supposed to put his calloused hands on your smooth porcelain skin, wasn’t meant to dance with you to that slow, romantic song as he wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your sweet vanilla perfume. He wasn’t supposed to cup your chin and pull your lips up to his wanting mouth, wasn’t supposed to chase his tongue with yours as he drank down your cherry flavored taste, wasn’t supposed to get lost in your lips as he kissed and nipped at the plush skin, getting drunk off your taste, off your scent, off your skin.

He wasn't supposed to fall for you after one kiss, wasn’t supposed to tear off your dress and throw you on the bed as he crawled onto the silky sheets and crowded your body with his own. He wasn’t supposed to make love to you, wasn’t supposed to even be near you, but he did. He did. And it was the best thing he ever decided to do in his miserable life.

He was hooked right off the bat by your charm and your beautiful smile and the way you talked about your love of books. He wasn’t supposed to keep seeing you in secret, wasn’t supposed to keep coming back to you inside the burlesque, wasn’t supposed to fall for you when you had your entire life mapped out already.

He wasn’t supposed to fall completely in love with you. But he did, he did. So he’d take what he could, even if it was forbidden. Even if it meant there was a chance of getting caught. It was worth it to him, you were worth it. If he was caught, Terrance would surely put a gun to his head and pull the trigger, end the suffering he has to endure day after day. But he can’t stay away from you. No. You were his, and he was yours. Two doomed souls to walk the eternities of hell at the Moulin Rouge. Two fiery souls that burned for the other, pined for each other.

Forbidden love is like a bad habit that takes over every bleeding thought of the day. Inescapable, paralyzing, intoxicating. It feeds on you like a slow, corrupting disease. Consumes every part of your anxious, debilitating thoughts. But if that means he can have you, he’ll suffer. For you. For you he’ll do anything. Cross the entire ocean just to see your bright, starry eyes one last time. For you he’ll do it all. Anything. For you are his perfect diamond in the rough, his constant. Just as he is yours. The forbidden fruit you were never allowed to taste. But you did, you did.

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge where tainted dreams die and longing for the unreachable becomes your worst nightmare. The only thing that holds you up now is him. Only him. Your favorite forbidden desire. Your escape. Your lover.

[ourlittleuluru]

Okay I gotta yap about the new Lost Signal memory as it just became claimable because the storyyyyyyy 😭 It's so good???? I love it so much.

In general,

I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING 😭 The script they have to readddd

And the voice acting! Good stuff! 🤣 XAVIER SOUNDS SO STIFF. The voice actors really did a good job, humu humu (/≧▽≦)

Overall story line is just... the two of them sharing some flirty moments but also action! and then the little goofy moments near the end too! (The BGM just adds so much to it) and i love it!

Gonna put the more specific stuff under the read-more (ヘ･_･)ヘ┳━┳ because there's like one specific detail that's interesting. Nothing that's too mind-blowing. 😅 (also spoilers, yep)

Him still asking for consent �� even when it's not an actual kiss.... Just reminds me of the 21 days trailer, where he does the same

and then... of course, there's a whole action sequence! Because that's what this card is all about. AND I mean, I can't help it. Gotta love a battle couple. Though, after all that is said and done...

XAVIER SIR

I KNOW YOU RICH BUT DON'T??? 😭😭😭 he really just... He sounds soooo regretful and really wanted to make it up 🥺 But let the companies go through this with the right processes and procedures first??

But Mr Manager is quite the opportunist X'D

Um... Manager-san???? Xavi??? Really?? You call Xavier "Xavi" and "Xav"??? 🤣 in CN it sounded less awkward. But usually Xavier's nickname by "older" people is 小沈, but the Mane-san called him 小回 after Xavier tried to say his full name 😭 so cute????

Like... what, Xavier??? What are you gonna do??? Destroy more railcar windows???? 😭😭😭😭 Sleep constantly on the job????

First thing... "too BROKE to cook".... Haeh??? Broke? Cook? Xavier? What are you up to??? - was my first thought. Second was just him trying to find an excuse to be with MC... but the real reason... is in the later part

Okay but this whole part also has me cackling 🤣 MC please... your denseness! But Xavier still feeling so darn guilty!! (but one thing here. IDK why, in CN the broadcaster does say "ST" as the donator. Though in EN, the broadcaster says "X" so... not sure why the sub in EN isn't following the EN script :v;;; just localization things, I guess)

MC.... ALL THAT MONEY WAS XAVIER'S 🤣😭 Man is trying to fix his OWN mistakes

but the fact he donated for 15 years... so he pretty much started donating since the Chronorift Catastrophe (or about a year before that) 🤔 aside from running around as Lumiere... Interesting detail to note!

Xavier's habit of scratching his nose when he feels awkward or needs to dodge a conversation topic 🥺💕 (But MC... you're both praising Xavier and dissing him at the same time.... 😂)

Okay... I think this is all for my ramblings??? I'll add on if I happen to catch anything else then. Until then... I'll just listen to this over and over...

Aight, Chu, Signing out! (￣^￣)ゞ

[roguishcat]

Astarion x Tav Prompt! (for the 200 follower celebration)

Astarion tailoring Tavs clothes before they reach the big city.

Some sensory ideas: rough linen, crackling warm campfire, fingers caressing skin, crisp autumn air, sounds of skin against fabric, soft sighs or humming

Thank you so much for the ask! I love reading tailor Astarion stories, so this is my humble attempt at writing one. Hope you like it! 💕

This is set in Act II, soon after the tiefling party.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 2.4k

Part of his plan

To Astarion their relationship was a transaction. A little tit for tat. Because this was what 200 years of servitude taught him. Nothing was ever given for free. Nothing came without a price. And usually it was not worth the pain or the effort anyway.

But when it came to Tav, Astarion found himself trying to make more of an effort to stay in her good graces. Not because he cared about her as such. But he didn’t find the thought of spending time with her, travelling alongside her, even sharing her bedroll as distasteful as with anyone else. Perhaps because she foolishly put others before herself. Perhaps it was her treating him with respect and kindness. But her being nice made him want… to be nice back. Just to make sure that their leader was well and truly smitten, of course.

That evening as Tav changed out of her armour to offer her neck to him, Astarion’s eyes fell to the rather obvious tear in her shirt. She noticed him look and flushed.

“I was going to take care of that yesterday but felt so tired that I just kind of decided to leave it,” she mumbled, pulling at the fabric awkwardly.

She scurried out of his tent and into her own before he could reply. Astarion felt his lips quirk into a smile. Now this was just the opportunity to make himself useful in their leader’s eyes that he was looking for!

He had already bedded Tav and although the experience was hardly unpleasant, he didn’t look forward to using his body over and over just to secure his place by her side. Therefore, making himself so much a part of her life that she felt that he was indispensable to her was crucial in keeping her interested.

Thus assured that he was once again right and everything was going according to his plan, Astarion grabbed his sewing kit and walked confidently in the direction of Tav’s tent.

“Darling, how about I-”

Tav looked up and Astarion was rendered speechless when he looked at her handywork. Only gods knew how she managed to create the monstrosity in her hands in such a short time. And where on earth did she even get thread of such toxic, garish colour?

Tav blushed a rather fetching shade of red and lowered her eyes.

“I suppose I made it worse, haven’t I?” she whispered, clearly embarrassed at being so terrible at something as basic as fixing a simple tear.

“Well… This isn’t the best needlework that I’ve seen, admittedly. But I am certain that it isn’t the worst either.”

The large, uneven stitches were quite remarkable, in their own way.

“How about I take over from here. I’m sure that we can salvage this,” he gently pried the shirt out of her hands and clicked his tongue as he lifted it closer to his eyes.

“I suppose this will take me a little longer than initially anticipated, seeing as I have to undo your fine effort first, but I will certainly finish it come morning.”

Astarion made a move to rise but felt a hand grasp his sleeve.

“You could stay here, if you wanted,” she suggested, making him freeze.

Truth be told, staying here was the last thing that he wanted to do. It was too intimate. Him staying could be misinterpreted as him wanting to engage in certain activities. And sex was the last thing currently on his mind.

“And have you miss out on the chance to catch up on some beauty sleep? How villainous would that be!” he joked, trying to extricate himself without making it too obvious that he wanted to leave.

“Then I could sit out by the campfire with you. I mean, if you want…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling silly, “we could talk.”

“Talk?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“I would like to get to know you more. Learn more about you, if you allow it.”

Talk. Yes, just like people did when they spent any amount of time around each other. He supposed that knocking boots was not enough for someone like Tav, someone who was… sweet.

Astarion supposed he could be forgiven for jumping to the conclusion that her asking to stay was asking for sex. He met few people who wanted him for his conversation skills. Most wanted to bed him, some wanted to spend time with him afterwards. He could recall hardly any who actually seemed to care for him or his past. And one of these people was sitting in her undershirt and waiting for him to make a decision. Always so patient with him, always treating him with such respect.

“Alright, why not,” he conceded, feeling his shoulders relax a touch now that he knew that she was not expecting him to perform. “Seeing as a night of passion is off the table and there is plenty of time until sunrise, I might enjoy this- this getting to know each other better idea. Though you may want to put something on, the night is quite chilly.”

Unfortunately, Tav had little else to wear. Seeing as others were always a priority, she purchased very few things for herself. Astarion rolled his eyes as he saw her eyeing her armour with uncertainty.

“Here,” he pulled his shirt off and handed it to her. “Whilst I may be all but immune to the elements, it wouldn’t do for our leader to be bested by a common cold.”

She hesitated briefly before taking the shirt and slipping it on. It smelled like Astarion, bergamot, rosemary and something else. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on but didn’t want to ask.

They walked out of her tent and Astarion took a seat near the campfire.

“So how should we go about it, dearest?” he asked without looking in her direction, but rather focusing on trying to minimize the damage that she did to her clothes.

Honestly, had no one taught her to sew? This work was worse than anything done by the other spawn even in their early days!

“How about… a question for a question?” she suggested, taking a seat beside him.

“Is anything off limits? Are you truly prepared for everything that you might uncover?” he teased, squinting a little as he used the sharp, pointy edge of scissors to carefully unpick her terrible stitches. “Us big city folk come with our terrible, depraved secrets.”

Ah, a blush for his efforts. Familiar territory.

“I can’t say what is off limits,” Tav said, playing with the collar and the ruffles of his shirt with her long, nervous fingers. “How about you are allowed not to answer any one question of your choosing?”

“Seems reasonable,” he shrugged, finally getting the thread that she used to cooperate and pulling on it until the fabric was no longer bunched awkwardly.

“What is your favourite colour?”

How uninspired. Honestly, were they children?

“I assumed it was blue,” she went on. “Your underwear is blue. And you seem to favour the blue dye, when you have a choice.”

“Observant, are we?” he chuckled. “Just how long has it been since I’ve piqued your interest? And yes, this is not a rhetorical question. I do expect an answer.”

“I guess… When you opened the doors on the bugbear and the ogre.”

“Oh? How scandalous of you to find that appealing! Did that get you excited?” he elbowed her gently, finding to his surprise that he was rather enjoying the light tone of the conversation.

“No,” Tav laughed, “but it was the first time you smiled. A real, proper smile. That image stayed with me for a long time. And got me wondering… what is beneath the polished look and practiced mannerisms?”

If Astarion had actually fed on her and any blood coursing through him at this moment, he was quite sure that he would have blushed.

He cleared his throat, “I believe it’s your turn to ask.”

She nodded, but didn’t ask him anything immediately, content to simply watch him for a while. The work of his dexterous fingers was such a contrast to her clumsy, inexperienced movements. Tav knew that she was way out of her depth when it came to Astarion and didn’t think that she would be able to figure him out even if she tried. Which is why she looked for an excuse to talk to him without others being around, wanting to get to know him better. But every time she tried to have a genuine conversation with him in the past, his expression would shutter, and he would give her some tired, clearly practiced lines. And perhaps it was foolish of her, but Tav felt she wanted to get to know him. To really know him.

 “What makes you happy? And I mean apart from walking in on freaky sex.”

“Tsk, I was going to say just that, actually. Took the words right out of my mouth, you cheeky pup.”

In truth, he was not really sure how to answer that. Happiness has not been part of the equation for over two centuries. Survival and prevailing against all odds. That was all that he was concerned with.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he finally admitted with a frown. “Drinking your blood makes me feel… strong. Powerful. Free. I am not sure what it means  to be happy in your books, but I believe this is it for me.”

He took a furtive look at her from underneath his lashes and was taken aback a little by the genuine, warm expression on her face. By the gods! Who did that? Who actually went around looking at people like that? No one did, in his experience.

“I hope you find more things that make you happy,” Tav said earnestly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Well, the pleasure of your company definitely tops that list,” he cleared his throat and moved away a little, feeling uncomfortable at the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest. Whatever it was.

“Well, of course! But I mean inconsequential nothings. Something that will make you smile. Something that will make you look forward to tomorrow.”

“And what makes you happy, Tav, hm? Seeing as you are the expert on the matter?”

To his surprise, he actually found that he wanted to know the answer.

“Well, it’s nothing unusual. Seeing people I care about being happy. Being helpful. Seeing families reunited.”

“Tsk, you are no fun!”  Astarion clicked his tongue in annoyance. “And here I was, actually answering your questions properly and what do I get in return? A cookie-cutter hero ‘I live to serve’ answer. Give me a break,” he scoffed.

“You don’t believe that people can help others just because?” Tav tossed several sticks into the campfire, the flames rising to lick the dry wood hungrily.

“No,” he said firmly, with conviction. “Not in my experience.”

He took a deep breath that he did not need, more for effect than out of necessity. “People are cruel, vile and everything is done for gain and nothing else.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tav looked down at her knees, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Oh, but I do. My sweet, sweet friend. Kindness gets people tortured. Kindness gets people killed. Kindness is the root of all trouble and you will be better off if you realise this sooner rather than later-” he stopped himself abruptly when he realised that he almost shouted that last part.

They fell silent, the crackling of the fire loud in the stillness.

“I’m sorry you feel this way,” she finally said.

“It is the truth.”

Astarion did not have to look at Tav to know that she disagreed. It didn’t matter. Their experiences were too different. They were too different. She probably was a nice girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere where neighbors were friends, and every day ended with a lovely sunset over the fields. At least that was what Astarion imagined when he thought about Tav’s home. He never actually bothered to ask. Come to think of it, none of them asked Tav about her past. Although they all seemed to be eager enough to have her help them on their personal quests, they actually knew very little about her.

“Goodness me, we seemed to have gotten carried away with that lively discussion,” he cleared his throat, realising that he was silent far too long. “Your shirt is almost fixed, so one last question.”

“Of course,” she stretched, fighting back a yawn.

“The scars on your side,” he noticed that Tav immediately moved to cover them up, pulling his shirt down with a jerk. “How did you get them?”

He had noticed them before, the night of the party. But he didn’t really care to ask then. Astarion out of all people knew that scars could tell quite a story. Cazador told him that his were a poem, but he was determined to find out exactly what it was that that bastard carved into his skin.

Astarion was a little taken aback when Tav’s demeanor changed, the expression turning bitter for the briefest moment before she caught herself. When she turned to look at him, her smile was as pleasant as any she would usually give him.

“Ah. I believe this is the question I will choose not to answer. At least not tonight. Thank you for my shirt and for talking to me. I enjoyed getting to know you a little better. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, my dear,” he handed her the mended shirt, watching her walk away from the campfire without another word.

Well, perhaps there was more to their fearless leader after all. There was definitely a secret, something that she did not want to be uncovered just yet. And that piqued his interest. Perhaps a glass of wine or two would loosen her tongue next time they decided to meet for a chat.

Astarion scowled. Him finding talking to Tav pleasant and them bonding was not part of the plan. On the contrary, any sort of relationship was a hindrance.

The vampire rose soundlessly and looked into the woods. Perhaps a hunt to clear his head would do him good. If anything, it would take his mind off Tav. Because whatever was happening between them had to remain a transaction. And it would be prudent not to forget that even for a moment.

Tag list:@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk

@anukulee, @preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Hi!💕

I was thinking about angst for Miguel. Like Miguel being in love with her since he first met her. But he wholeheartedly believes she only sees him as an friend (which maybe or maybe not be true depending on how you want it to go for Miguel) especially when he sees her happy and smiling with another man. I want to hurt but also want a good ending. Thank you ☺️

Thank you for the ask! I hope you like it 💖

---

Lost time

He pushed a doodle he had made towards you. You were seated next to him, helping him with sorting through the influx of data that had gathered from the various universes.

You took the small piece of paper to inspect it, a smile spreading across your face. It was a little sketch of you staring at the screens, with a sentence scribbled beneath it.

Don’t become like me :(

He didn’t know why he was a spider in the first place. He had spent years hating himself for it, for becoming like this. But in moments like these, moments were he too had hidden sketches of you, or when he joked just so he could hear your laugh. It made him believe that he was always meant to be spiderman or atleast he shared a few qualities with the other. It eased the voice of the critic in his head.

But as days went by, he had gone from observing you just because you were the only one he found interesting to never being able to look at anything else because he had fallen in love. That caused the self hatred within him to grow.

How can someone like you? Who lit up every room can be with someone like him.

A mutated monster that could never quite go back to who he once was. The humanness in him fading with every passing day.

He could never hold you close, his claws would get in the way.

He could never kiss you, his fangs would cut you.

And one moment he would be happy, then the next his eyes would narrow down on you like you were a threat.

So him yearning for love was as good as believing in fantasy.

You held him at a certain distance, he felt it, you would be around him long enough to thaw his heart and then flit back to the world you had come from. He watched you relax around other Peter parkers, to pull them into hugs or kiss their cheeks.

He only knew to sulk on that pedestal he built for himself, because if he just pretended to be a statue then his hurt would be left alone, frozen in time.

So he did the same now, push the paper away because if he held onto it, he’d want to frame it. The smile on your face soon becoming the highlight of his day as he sunk back into his chair.

You felt him pull away again. That was how it had been ever since you started being around him. You held the small piece of paper as though it was priceless, another great artefact that he bestowed on you, one you would take home to keep safe. Because as much as he believed he was this creature, these little gifts actually only reinstated how human he was.

You turned to look at him, to catch his eyes for a brief second before he looked away clearing his throat as though he had been caught admiring you. And you did, catch him often looking at you with dreamy eyes, it was only that you wished he would admit it to you, so then you didn’t have to pretend like you didn’t see him.

You saw him. All of him. His happiness, his sadness, his past, his present and the man he had once been, choosing to shine through the cracks now and then.

“Why do you hide it?”, it slipped out your mouth before you could hold it back. His eyes shot to you and you froze.

“Hide what?”, he asked as if you had uncovered his deepest secret.

But now it was out, now you needed to know.

“You.”, you smiled furrowing your brows because you couldn’t understand, why he kept his heart locked up.

He looked away, avoiding your gaze might help him think of a way to escape without giving you an answer but as his eyes found yours again. There was a part of him that didn’t want to shy away.

“There’s nothing great to share.”, he shrugged his shoulders but it made your smile disappear and he hated himself for it.

“Miguel.”, you said his name with a gentleness that you were sure he had not heard of before, you put away the paper to reach for his hand and you felt his fingers twitch upon your contact.

“Stop being hard on yourself.”, he heard you say and it stung him. He pulled away from your touch as though you had wounded him and the surprise on your face made him want to scream out because he had been yearning for your touch. Now he couldn’t even go after what he wanted. What he dreamed.

“There’s a reason as to why I am.”, he disguised the anguish with anger.

“Because of who you are?”, you question and he pushed away from his seat.

“Because of what I am.”, he quipped immediately, his eyes staying glued to yours as you finally saw the sadness behind his statement.

You pushed away to reach out for him, to pull him in, to confess that you loved him just as he was but he held his hands up in defense.

He began to break and it broke you, he mumbled all the reasons you should stay away.

“I could hurt you.”, he stepped back but you stepped forward.

“You deserve better.”, he was trying to convince you but instead it was the tears that were beginning to glimmer in his eyes that got you to stop.

His back hit the edge of the desk softly and it looked like he had admitted defeat.

“So you don’t want me to be around you?”, you asked softly and his eyes shot to find yours, his lips parting to disagree but instead he said,

“Ay dios. I want you. I need you.”, he stopped as he said it in a fit. The truth ebbing out his mouth as he saw you look at him with shock. You made him forget that his life had changed.

“As a friend, as a friend because that’s what we are.”, he held his hands up to ease you to then run his fingers through his hair as though he had messed up this connection between you and him.

But all you’ve been wanting was to know how he truly felt and now there was no need to pretend.

“That’s all we are?”, you asked him. Anxious that there was no room to be more.

“Yes.”, he said slowly.

“Nothing more?”, you stepped towards him as though you were stepping on thin ice.

He didn’t answer and it filled you with anger that he was ready to throw this away. That he wasn’t even going to take a chance.

“Just tell me never liked me and I can move on.”, you demanded and he pursed his lips.

“Tell me.”, you pushed forward, your face now in front of his.

But when his eyes found yours, it burned with passion. It burned as he took your hand. It sizzled as his eyes fell to your lips.

“Nunca.”, he whispered and you wanted to wriggle your hand out of his hold to march away but he didn’t let you.

“I could never imagine my life without you in it.”, he tugged you to him.

“If you had only let me know I had a chance, I would not have waited for so long.”, he said quietly, his eyes roaming over your face as his hand caressed your cheek.

“You’ve always had a chance, Miguel. You never took it.”, you placed your palms on his chest, not wanting to pull away from his arms.

“What are you going to do with this one?”, you asked as you were in this moment, your voice turning raspy when his breath cascaded over your lips.

He waited for a second, but there was nothing to think about. He pulled you to him entirely, his hands cradling your hips so you could wrap your legs around his waist. His lips catching yours with a hunger that matched yours. He moaned with delight as your fingers got lost in his hair.

He didn’t break away but he pushed away from the desk to turn and put you on it. He pinned you down as his hands caged you in, his kisses now traveling down your neck before he returned to your lips.

He pulled away to catch his breath and you couldn’t help but laugh as you were in a state of joy, his eyes softened as he joined you. You pushed yourself up and he held your waist steady, his eyes lost in yours as if he couldn’t make sense if this was real or not.

He leaned forward, to place his forehead on yours as he breathed slowly and before you knew it, you were breathing in sync with him.

“You like me as I am?”, he asked.

“I love you as you are.”, you replied and felt his hands tighten around you.

You nudged his nose with yours to get him to look at you and when he did,

“I love you, Miguel. I always have.”, you repeated it just so he knew you were not going to take it back.

His eyes glistened as he took your hand to kiss your palm as though a broken part of him had healed. He then began to place kisses on your wrist and worked his way down your arm as though his words could never convey the depth of his love. You slowly leaned back to lie down on the table as you pulled him close.

“We might be here for a while at this rate.”, he laughed and you smiled.

“Hmm we can make up for lost time.”, you chuckled.

“Oh I see.”, he said it with a mischievous tone, taunting you as his lips hovered over yours.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”, you laughed as you pulled him by the collar of his suit to kiss him again. His laugh against your lips put the world on hold for a while.

[robbsstar]

cute crush head cannons w jace ! pls 💕💕

of course, my love<3, will be my firs time doing a headcanon 😃

Jacaerys Velaryon has a crush on Reader- fluff

masterlist <-

-Jacaerys was known for being one of the most respectful man in the Targaryen blood line, also a gentleman. But he also had quite the pride being the heir to the iron throne and all that- ignoring that he IS a bastard.

-He would behave just like his mother had taught him. Respectful and kind. He had never met you or your family, he only heard from Daemon and his mother that your family was an important asset to theirs.

-Since he had never met you before, he of course would be struck by your beauty, he would make it known by lingering his eyes on you. His body posture immediately straightens after your gaze found his and your eyes checked him out with a shy smile.

-It was not a secret that your parents were trying to unite your houses with a wedding. While you stayed in Dragonstone, he would be the one showing you around Dragonstone and making you feel welcome.

-Your conversations would first be about your political views or random and awkward topics like the weather. Though after you grow closer you would share your interests and conversation in general would feel not so forced anymore.

-Jacaerys would be the type to recognize his feeling toward someone and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Yes he would feel nervous around but he would have it under control- ignoring Lucerys in the backround, the younger one would so try to ruin your image of the 'Respectful and Kind Prince Jacaerys Velaryon'.

-Jace would make it his mission to 'woo' you as Daemon told him he had apparently done with Rhaenrya. His goal was to have you impressed by him and have you admire him.

-He would definitely be the type to get your attention by 'accidently' brushing your hand or hip. As his objective would be to impress you, Jace would gift you either a jewellery piece with a historical meaning behind it or he would surprise you with something you hold dear- like something from your hometown. He would memorize anything you tell him.

-When you aren't present he would make a list- a plan- and listed the things he wanted to show you- impress you with. Jace would so hide it under it somewhere in his room so Lucerys would not find it.

-He would ask you if you wanted to see his dragon. At first you would be a little sceptical about meeting the he-dragon since they weren't a stranger for burning people and sheep alive but your worries slightly vanished after Jace promised you he had Vermax under control and nothing would happen to you.

-Since Jacaerys is a gentleman, almost womanizer- I am a HARDCORE believer he would lead people- women- by placing his hand on their waist or hip while walking behind them. So on your way to his dragon, Jace would hold you by your waist and walk just half a step behind you while whispering reassurances in your ear, making his and you hearts flutter like crazy.

-On the outside he presents himself as confident and sure, especially in front of you. Hence Daemon likes to watch his stepson fidget in front of a mirror, checking his hair or attire for any stains or wrinkles before going to you. The rogue prince would often share the gossip with his wife, Rhaenrya.

-He would want to teach you more about the Targaryen history but most had important Valryian phrases which would make the stories way more exciting. So would Jace prepare and force himself to take more lessons in Valryian. He would ask his mother to teach him more, hoping she would not tease him. Rhaenrya loves her children- of course, so she would encourage all decisions by her sons. His nervousness would instantly be replaced by faith and self-confidence.

-The day would come where he wishes to tell you about all the historical events regarding the Targaryen's, wars and deaths. You two enjoyed the walk in the halls while you clung to his arm and he took you to statues or paintings.

-Since his attention is on you all the time, he would notice your eyes staring at him while he explained a Valryian Phrase, clear admiration shown in your eyes. So he his confident would spike and pride fill his heart AND head.

-Soon the pride would turn into a disaster. While Jacaerys spoke, he would feel your head lean on his shoulder and your hands squeeze his arm. You had meant to show him that you were paying attention but his thoughts left his mind like his confidence his body. He would begin to stutter and butcher his quick learned Valryian. He would feel so embarrassed, he tried to avoid you the next hours.

-He would shame himself and his efforts. Jace would think he had done too much and he was beginning to annoy you- he did not but he didn't know that. No one else before him had made you feel so appreciated, so you were deeply moved by his antics.

-After one time you had finally caught him and take him on a walk on the beach, he would muster up the courage and apologize to you for 'ruining' the day and trying to to avoid you. So he continued to make you feel joy with success and fails.

[aemondsbabe]

Hi <3 so I was rewatching episode 1 of season 2, and something I've been thinking about is Aemond's smile when he's talking to Cole about how Alicent blames him for starting the war even though she was already plotting for the throne beforehand. What's interesting to me is that I've seen people referring to his smile as mocking when in reality, to me, it looks so sorrowful. His smile on that scene looks so pained to me, the kind of smile you have when something unfair has saddened you, yet you can do nothing about it. Because right after, he speaks of how Alicent still holds love for the enemy, and he's referring to Rhaenyra, the same person who tried to have him tortured for answers the same day he lost his eye.

Idk it's just interesting to me, these subtle details about Aemond that so many people overlook and interpret in the wrong way, writing him off as uncaring when in reality I think he cares a lot. Do you have any thoughts about it?

i rewatched a clip of the scene you’re talking about and honestly I agree with your take on it!

i havent rewatched any of the episodes yet, but his smile in that instance did feel funny to me when the episode premiered. i think with everything else that went on in that one, i just never stopped to consider it lol

but like i said, i agree! i really like your take, actually. aemond doesn’t smile often, he didn’t even when he was younger, so i feel like each time he does must have some sort of deeper meaning. especially since it seems like ewan as an actor thinks things through rather methodically — i feel like he wouldn’t smile just to smile.

thinking about it in the way you describe it, it does make it incredibly sad. in the glimpses we see of his relationship with alicent before he lost his eye, it seems like they were fairly close. i mean, he came to her crying after the pink dread incident. she was also the only one visibly upset for him the night he lost his eye and the only one advocating for him.

even after aemond is aged up, they’re clearly quite close. he holds her after aegon disappears and reassures her that he’ll find him, etc. their relationship seems a lot closer than her relationship with helaena even and certainly than hers with aegon.

perhaps her blaming him for starting the war is the first time she hasn’t been on his side or the first time she’s expressed disappointment in him, etc. it’s at least significant enough of an event that he’s talking to cole about it, which makes me feel like that’s the case.

either way, that gives a lot more depth and meaning to that scene and that interaction between criston and aemond, and to his relationship with alicent!

i’m really glad you pointed this out, anon! thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!! 🩷💕

[zenruu]

Let's Get to Know Each Other's Inquisitors! 20 Questions

I don't know about you all, but I love getting to know other people's characters and seeing all the love they put into them.

Thank you @charmedcleric for the tag!! 💕

Tag some friends and have them answer!

What is your Inquisitor's name? - Haleira Lavellan

Type of build/combat style? - Ice magic is her bread and butter, but she also took on the rift mage specialization

Is your Inquisitor close with his/her family? - Close enough! She’s very duty driven and can be a bit prone to forgetting to keep in touch, though she very much loves and cares for her family!

Closest friend in the Inquisition? - Dorian and Solas. She’s just a magic nerd and has endless conversation potential with these two because they're also nerds. Dorian became more of a friend beyond shared interests while things with Solas understandably became a bit… strained though she’s still determined to get through to him.

Love interest? - Cullen! She was bewitched by his stuttering and awkwardness.

Your three favorite traits your Inquisitor possesses? - She believes in fate above all things (which I don’t admire), but this gives her a sense of serenity that I very much do admire. In her mind, things happen as they are meant to, she is doing what she was born to do and there’s nothing more than that. I also admire her ability to play politics in a way. She’s not a dishonest person exactly, but she’s very good at making everyone feel like they’re getting what they want. And a third trait would be… her gentleness! She’s very calm, quite soft in spite of it all.

Does he/she like to read? - She loves to read! For academic purposes and just for fun.

Can he/she cook? - She can! It’s not a hobby of hers, but she’s satisfactorily proficient.

Favorite season (spring, summer, fall, winter)? - Winter and spring. Death and rebirth.

What would your Inquisitor consider the perfect day? - Waking up early, taking in the cool morning air maybe with a good book, spending a bit of aimless time with Cullen and the kids. Nothing extravagant, she would love a simple day.

Does he/she like the Game (and is your Inquisitor good at playing it)? - She doesn’t relish in it… but she can play with the best of them. She greatly prefers honesty, but she understands the requirements of her role and she will play her part.

Is your character good at Wicked Grace? - She really has very little practice so… not so much!

What will be his/her favorite memory from the Inquisition? - The people! Cullen, obviously… but also her friends and the sense of unification her work brought. She doesn’t have a god complex or anything, but she very much believes she was chosen or destined to fulfill this role and she finds it quite beautiful…

What's one regret your character has? - She would tell you she has none because of her strong belief in fate… therefore in her mind everything plays out as it’s meant to. But there are certainly moments she’s stressed over maybe doing the wrong thing - wrong in the sense that she’s playing “against” fate, as it were. But in the end she tells herself and anyone else that she has no regrets, no matter how much she worries.

If an actor or actress were to play the role of your Inquisitor, who would you pick? - Maybe someone like Elle Fanning? Not 100% but close enough!

What would your Inquisitor's childhood dream have been? - In a not-so-grandiose way she’s always felt that she was going to do something big, so things played out well for her! She was pretty into animals and magic as a kid, and from a young age just kind of figured she'd become the First, but she got a whole lot more than that for sure.

Is his/her life anywhere close to that dream? - Definitely!

What's the hardest part about being Inquisitor for your character? - Being responsible for so many people and their well-being, it’s a lot of pressure! She can also bristle a bit with all the "Herald" talk... she believes she's chosen by her gods, not by the Maker, not by Andraste. However... she does feel that she was put into this position for a reason, if not necessarily to evangelize to the Andrastians, then to at least put forth a good face for the sake of her people.

Does your Inquisitor have any skills or talents others wouldn't expect? - She can sew! She’s not a fashion designer or anything, but she’s proficient enough to make most anything.

What would be your character's ideal happy ending/HEA? - She’s basically got it (Veilguard pls don’t hurt her). A simple life, family, freedom to do what she wants… she doesn’t feel a need for anything more.

I'm tagging (no pressure, only if you want to do it!): @thorinoakenbutt, @faevellan, @telanadasvhenan, @nicolajpg, @hawkesfavor (ok I'll stop there bc five is excessive enough sorry v.v)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Got a 1k fic prompt over on ao3 about Stede getting worried about Ed and shaking him awake in the night to make sure he's okay and Ed reassuring Stede that he's okay and not going anywhere! Just the sweet thing I needed to write about right now. 💕

I'm still taking prompts to write 1k word fics about! If you need to read about something sweet or healing right now, don't be afraid to ask!

--

Alright, yeah, Ed shouldn’t have snapped.

But he was kind of at the end of his fucking rope. They’d been living at their new place - “the inn,” they called it, even though it was slowly just starting to look like a regular house built for two - for about a week, and Ed hadn’t had a single full night’s sleep the entire fucking time.

The problem was this: Stede kept shaking him awake.

Every night.

Ed loved sharing a bed with Stede, mostly. He loved cuddling with him, waking up in his arms, feeling Stede all around him. He loved how their bed smelled like both of them, how he felt so safe.

But every night, right about as soon as Ed was finally getting some good, deep sleep, Stede kept shaking him awake.

Ed wouldn’t mind Stede waking him up, if there was some real reason. He’d be happy for Stede to wake him up even if he was just feeling a little lonely and needed someone to talk to.

Every time, though, Stede looked frantic as he was shaking Ed awake, but then he’d kind of sigh and pretend that he hadn’t just looked scared half out of his mind, and Ed would be left frustrated and exhausted. 

And Stede wouldn’t fucking tell him why.

The sleep deprivation was finally getting to him, because that morning Stede had commented that he looked tired as Ed was stumbling blearily through their kitchen, and Ed had snapped back, “and whose fucking fault is that, Stede?”

Stede had looked like Ed had just punched him in the gut.

That was the frustrating thing, Ed thought, as he took a quick walk around the edge of the garden Stede was plotting out in their front yard. He couldn’t stay mad, not really. He knew Stede was keeping something from him, but he just didn’t have it in him to even maintain a state of any real annoyance, because Stede was obviously worried sick about something.

He just wished Stede would share it with him. Wasn’t that supposed to be part of your partner’s job, to share the weight when something worried you?

Ed went back inside, and apologized, and Stede promised to stop shaking him awake at night.

“I just wish you’d tell me why,” Ed said.

Stede’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just being stupid, you don’t have to worry about it.”

That night, Ed got a blissful full night’s sleep, but Stede still looked tired in the morning.

Ed wasn’t terribly surprised - Stede had slept that night with his head on Ed’s chest at what seemed like a bit of an uncomfortable angle. 

The days passed, and Ed was able to sleep through the nights, and he felt better than he had in years.

He still didn’t think Stede was sleeping very well, though. He didn’t sleep with his head on Ed’s chest at that uncomfortable-looking angle every night, but he always kept his hand, at least, on Ed’s chest, or on the side of Ed’s neck, right under his jaw. Ed didn’t mind it, he loved nothing more than a good cuddle with Stede, but it didn’t quite match Stede’s usual cuddling style (which seemed to be mostly centered around using Ed as a weighted blanket).

Then, one night, Ed realized that the strange angle Stede slept at, with his head pillowed on Ed’s chest, put his ear right directly over Ed’s heart, and he got it.

Ed didn’t want to scare him, but in the interest of checking his theory, he took in a breath and held it.

Stede had seemed like he was almost asleep, so it took him a moment to notice, but the second he realized Ed’s chest wasn’t moving, he darted upright, frantically shaking Ed’s shoulders.

“Ed? Ed, are you-” Stede sighed, loud and relieved, when Ed sat up, grabbing for his hands. “Thank God, Ed!”

“Were you making sure I was still breathing?”

Stede’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened and shut a couple times.

“Do you think I’m just about to drop dead, man?” Before Stede could start getting cagey, Ed took his hands, pressing Stede’s palm over Ed’s heart. “I’m okay, Stede, but please, man, just talk to me.”

Stede let out a little frustrated sigh. “You’ll think I’m just being stupid-”

“Will not,” Ed promised. “Never.”

“Do you remember that time you died?” Stede pressed his mouth into a line, a sure-fire sign he was trying very hard not to cry. “You were gone. I thought I lost you. And I get so scared, thinking that I might just wake up and you’ll be gone.”

A few tears spilled over, and Stede scrubbed a frustrated hand across his cheeks.

“I just get so worried I can’t stand it,” Stede went on. “I can’t lose you, not right after I just found you, not now that we’re together.”

“Aw, babe, c’mere.” Ed held out his arms in invitation, and Stede threw himself into them, letting Ed pull him close to his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. You’ve got me for good. No getting rid of me. Already threw away the receipt.”

Stede huffed out a little watery laugh, and Ed kissed his forehead. 

“What can I do to help?” Ed asked gently. “Aside from letting you shake me awake every two minutes, that was not fuckin’ sustainable.”

“I am sorry about that,” Stede said. “Maybe just…is it okay if I always touch you while we sleep? Just so I can know you’re alright?”

“Of course,” Ed promised. “You can touch me all you like.”

That got him a fond eye roll, and Ed laughed, leaning in for a sweet kiss.

They fell asleep that night with their fingers laced together and resting on Ed’s chest, right over his heart.

And, yeah, Ed didn’t blame Stede for being jumpy. But he hoped they could both look forward to waking up like this together, for the rest of their forever.

[dujour13]

Would love to hear more of your Woljif hc. <3 For the seven forms of Love, ludus 5, pragma 4, philautia 4, if you like :)

Thank you Wonda!! It's good to hear from you 💕

Disclaimer that these are for my personal hc Woljif from my fics. Certainly not claiming to have kind of authority. Just thinking about the boy.

Ludus 5

What seduction techniques are most likely to be effective when it comes to your OC? Are there some things guaranteed to get them going? Or are they immune to such things?

Recently I’ve been firming up my hc that he’s demisexual. He talks a big game and likes to pretend he’s interested in sex, but it’s all another deflection technique. In reality he’s had no more than one or two subpar experiences and thinks of sex transactionally until he gets with Siavash and then suddenly there’s a whole new world opening up. He’s immune to it up until then, and then… pretty much anything works. The most effective techniques are things that put him at ease and make him feel safe enough to be vulnerable: comforting touches, kind words, reassurances. He’s a complete sucker for guitar music too.

Pragma 4

After the initial fires of passion cool to some degree, what would keep your OC engaged in a relationship? Shared goals? Similar values? Or contented companionship?

This is the source of some confusion for him and Siavash after the game story (avoiding spoilers by not saying what exactly). They experiment a lot, in some cases too much, in the hope of keeping the flame alive. They share the same goals and values (the Project, for those who know), but contentment is the enemy. So there’s a lot of thrill-seeking and boundary-testing at first, but eventually they settle on orbiting one another at a not-too-comfortable distance, fully committed but not joined at the hip like they were during the Crusades. They’re at their best when adventuring and getting up to shenanigans together. That does seem to stoke the flames of passion pretty reliably.

Philautia 4

Which of your OC's qualities makes them the most proud? Do they think more people should be like them in this regard? Or do they quite like being rare in possessing it?

Aw, this is a tough one for Woljif, who again talks a big game as a way of deflecting and hiding his lack of a sense of self-worth. (As we know and love him.) He’s not entirely unaware that he’s quicker on the uptake than a lot of people around him, though. Obviously a useful trait in a conman, being two steps ahead of everybody. And as a child the only praise he ever received, albeit begrudging, was when he picked up spells with remarkable ease. He's also proud of having come up from nothing and having built up his street-smarts and survival skills. Unfortunately he’s internalized the message that people like him are trash, so there’s another side to that coin – he’s proud when it comes to other “lowlifes” like him, but it also makes him feel even more like an outcast in the company of Crusader-types.

[lilacs-stash]

hey I wanted to ask. how do you think balloon being aroflux (in your headcanons, at least) impacts their relationship w the rest of the grand slams? I know you ship them and I just. I wanted to see the aromanticism elaborated on beyond it just being there for brownie points. (Not to accuse you of anything! I’ve just seen a lot of people slap QPR on them and call it a day, no further thought. I know you’re THE grand slams person, so I know you have thoughts on this, and I’m inviting you to share them!! I’m interested!!)

:D <- just got an excuse to ramble about their HCs

Okay before I get into this I want to mention I myself am not arospec, I do have quite a bit of input from Max who IS aro on this cuz we discuss the grand slams's relationships a lot. But they are also not aroflux. Point is this might not be the most accurate aroflux rep but I am trying 👍

Oh and also please do not they/them my Balloon. She uses she/he.

Since you said grand slams and not "Nickel & Suitcase" I'm going to start with the most simple one. Baseball. They aren't partners 👍. Post show they're good friends and metamours. (Now I do have more to say about their relationship just nothing else in relation to how Balloon's romantic identity effects it)

Now Suitcase. They're queer platonic in the sense of "very much platonic and very much partners", as that's the way they come off to me when watching them. I think they probably dated for two weeks or so at the start before realizing that they aren't romantically attracted to each other, which was a part of Balloon realizing he was aroflux. Also I think the two kissed exactly once back when they were dating and then decided it's gross 👍

Nickel. Oh boy this is a long one. I have a older post talking about this but might as well say it again. Okay so Nickel is romantically attracted to Balloon and she's alterousally attracted to him, well mostly the aro does in fact flux sometimes and it ends up /r or /p. (I previously described this as "Balloon's attraction to Nickel is pretty much "Man. I kinda want to hold him."" I now have an actual word for it yay!)

They both more so care about being partners in general, rather then what kind of partners they are. And tbh they probably couldn't describe it if they tried. They're very unlabeled to me. They're not /p or /r or /qp they're just…Nickloon. Yeah 💕

At the start before they considered each other partners Nickel wanted to be in a standard romantic relationship with Balloon (she wasn't out to him at the time) but now the idea of that feels…off to him. He's incredibly happy with how things are and he knows Balloon doesn't want that.

Now some smaller stuff, they tend to call each other more /p stuff. Dude bro, "bud" is the big one (yeah that's just canon). Sometimes you'll get something like babe though. Balloon's not really comfortable with other people referring to their relationship with romantic terms (accept like, Suitcase). So if Nickel calls him his girlfriend that's great if someone ELSE does the same yeah no that's uncomfortable. He usually just calls Nickel his partner or guy and then boyfriend is mostly for being affection directly (ie she'll call Nickel her BF when talking to him as a form of affection but not causally to other people)

Another thing is both kisses and "I love you"s are very intimate for them. I admittedly am not very good at portraying the kiss HC (I just like drawing kisses 👍), but I do genuinely think they only really kiss in private and/or emotional moments. Now of course they say and show each other they love them a lot and in many ways, but directly saying I love you tends to be mostly for when the other needs to hear it. Reassurance type thing. "I love you, you're loved, it's gonna be okay."

Idk how to end this but wow I wonder what Lilac's favorite grand slams ship is

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Changeling SFW Commissions | Masterlist | Monster Matches

Monster match for @fattybattysblog!

💕Surya is gorgeous, there’s no denying it. There’s an almost feminine beauty about his thick waves of black hair, his slender body and narrow shoulders. His dark skin is dusted with freckles, almost seeming to glow under the sunshine. He’s almost perfect, except for the long scar marring his cheek and jaw. 💕He won’t tell you how he got it, but you have the feeling there’s more to him than you realise. 💕Surya is the shy type. Non-confontational, a little nervous until you get to know him better. It can come across as timidness, but really he’s just not used to being around people. He was a bit of a shut-in in his youth, a natural part of being a changeling pretending to be human. 💕He doesn’t pretend anymore, though. Now, he’s learned to be proud of his origins, even if people don’t always understand. It’s one of the first things he tells you about himself; that he’s tired of pretending. You understand, he thinks, because of your shapeshifting. 💕Surya loves your curvy build. It’s a beautiful contrast against his own willowy body, and the height difference is cute too!  💕Your first date is a restaurant he’s picked out. Something small and cozy, nothing too fancy but with a homey, authentic vibe. He likes orcish food because it’s spicy and hearty, but if you’re unsure he’ll happily help you pick out a dish you’ll love. He could talk about food all day - and will, if you let him - but he’s also genuinely interested in your own hobbies. 💕Seriously, please tell this man about your interests. He loves listening to your voice! 💕At the end of the night, Surya takes you to a little icecream shop that has dozens of flavours. It’s a nice night, so you sit outside to eat and share each other’s company. Surya admits he hasn’t been on many dates, but this one has been the best by far. He’s so sweet, it’s almost painful. 💕He drives you home at the end, walks you to the door. You kiss his cheek and you can see the smile on his lips, revealing little sharp teeth. 💕He shyly asks if you’d like to go on another date. Of course, you say yes!

You sat on the park bench, the sun dipping low on the horizon and painting the sky with warm, rosy hues. Beside you, Surya faced you, his rich, freckled skin glowing in the fading light. His wavy black hair framed a face that was charming yet shy, his eyes glancing in your direction but never quite meeting yours. 

He was chatting nervously, talking about how much he enjoyed the day, the words spilling out as if he were afraid of the silence. "I really liked the restaurant," he was saying, his voice soft. "Did you like it too?"

You nodded, smiling. "I loved it."

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city around you a gentle backdrop to your thoughts.

Surya suddenly looked up, his eyes wide. "Do you want more ice cream?" he asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.

You shook your head and reached over, moving with a grace and gentleness that seemed to mesmerise him. You kissed him softly on the cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips.

He froze, his eyes wide, and then he grinned, tips of his ears turning a dark, dusty pink. His hand came up to touch the spot where your lips had been, a look of wonder in his eyes.

You smiled, feeling a connection that went beyond mere physical attraction. "I've had a wonderful time today, Surya," you said softly.

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face. "Would you... would you like to go on another date?" he stammered, his voice full of hope.

You reached over and took his hand, feeling the nervous tremble in his fingers. "I'd like that very much," you whispered, your heart full of a warmth that had nothing to do with the setting sun.

His face broke into a smile, a smile that was so genuine and joyful that it took your breath away. "Really?" he asked, his voice full of wonder.

"Really," you confirmed, and kissed him again.