#omg thank you for sending this!

[takeitinandletitgo]

which muse is the easiest to write?

[ questions for multimuse blogs ]

I've been thinking about this since you sent it in and I honestly think it shifts with my mood. I think the most consistently easy for me to write, that's on this blog is probably Booker because depressed frenchman who makes bad decisions when he's hopeless my beloved.

[zevrra]

(to that one anon who requested just the tip w/ jayce,,,,,,i owe you my life AAAAAA,,,,)

“You look so good,” Jayce groans against the curve of your neck. His large hands roam your body, groping every inch of you that he could touch as he hugs you from behind. You were dressed for one of his political parties he had asked you to accompany him too and here he was, feeling you up, going to make you both more than fashionably late. His fingers hook around the edge of your long dress, slowly teasing the fabric up inch by inch while his breath tickles the back of your neck. His teeth scrape across your skin as his fingers dance over your revealing thighs. “Need you baby…”

You bite back a moan, feeling every slow press, curl, and skim of his fingers along your skin. “Jayce,” You huff under your breath, finally reacting to his advances by moving your hands to grip around his wrists. “We’ll be late…can’t wait until after the party?”

“No.” Jayce responds firmly. Making it an obvious point to grind himself against you, letting you know just how hard he was. “Please. You look so good, just need a taste.” He adds with a soft chuckle. He follows up by placing a tender, hot kiss against your neck while his fingers slip right up against the curve of your cunt.

His fingers press once more against your center and you instinctively grip his forearms just a little tighter, as a gasp leaves your lips. “Jayce—“ You whine his name again but it practically falls on deaf ears while his fingers continue to flex and curl against your core.

“Already wet for me.” He mutters, teasingly, and you can feel him smiling against your neck. He lifts your dress up high, pulling it up to reveal your underwear to him. His favorite nonetheless too…since you had planned for this moment for the afterparty. Yet now it only riles him up further. “Here, hold up your dress for me.” He adds in a hushed whisper, too turned on to be reasoned with…and at this point, so are you.

You do as you’re told. Gripping the hem of your dress that he had hiked up, high enough for him to run a finger beneath the pretty panties you wear; where he quickly yanks them off to the side. You’re slightly bent in half, exactly where he positions you, as he grips one of your legs and lifts it off the ground just a little.

“Don’t want to ruin the pretty dress you got me.” You rasp, breathlessly, as Jayce presses a single finger inside of you. Curls said finger, draws it out, thrusts it back inside before adding a second. Pressing both fingers inside, flushed up onto his second knuckle, all to stretch you out. Damn him for being so good with his hands because it only takes a couple of seconds of his work to turn you into a mess. “Just the tip.” You bark out, biting down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan just as you listen to Jayce undoing his pants.

“Just the tip.” Jayce agrees, removing his fingers and slowly replacing them with just the tip of his cock; as promised. He presses his head flush between your lips, gathering your slick and his own alike, lifting his hips just a little to slip the tip inside of you. A harsh groan leaves his lips but he controls himself, behaves so well, as he presses only the tip of his aching cock inside your wet cunt. “After the party though…you’re all mine.” Jayce states, promising to you that he would not be so gentle and obedient later…and just like that, your putty in his damn hands; the party long forgotten.

[emilyartstudio-s]

STAR BOYS 🌟

[lotusloong]

let me share with you my take on some little chibi monkeys !

i dont really post anymore on tumblr (maybe i should) and i know it hasnt been easy for you lately so i hope those tiny monkeys bring a smile to you :3

(i do post on bluesky tho if you wanna see more)

OH. MY. GGGGOOODDDDDDD!?!?

THESE ARE SO CUTE!!!!

Omg their tiny little hands and feeties, the little faces!!! They look so adorable I wanna scoop them all up and squeeze em!!!!! Dasheng and MKR Wukong looking so grumpy, but the other three looking so happy and sweet!!! NGNR Wu looking so fabulous omg

please please do start posting more!! I don't think anyone would complain about getting more Wukong art, it's good for our Tumblr ecosystem 😂

[sainz100]

March 2016 & the Australian GP | x

[cheriecoke]

NB, idea I thought you might like—you know those memes/stories of boyfriends who get drunk and tell their girlfriend something like, “You’re pretty but I have a girlfriend,” or whatever?

Nanami. Very red-faced and very seriously.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ THE BOYFRIEND TRAP — nanami kento

OMG THIS IS SO CUTE !! it's so funny you mention it bc i've been thinking about writing something like this for a while now hehe. this gave me a perfect excuse to write something sweet bc i've been feeling so emotional about him

it was satoru's idea to go out drinking. ironic, really, considering he was the one that had a soda in front of him, no more than half-empty, a refill after the first sickeningly sweet one.

across the restaurant, at the bar, gojo was talking with nanami, nodding seriously with a small grin as kento rambled on about something that he would probably regret spilling to the white-haired man in the morning. it was easy to get kento to talk with some alcohol in him; he normally kept things locked up tight, but once you got a drunk kento going, it was, truly, hard to stop him.

"you should get him home," shoko said, smiling from where her hands were set in her hands. "i'm afraid of what satoru is over there asking."

it was then that you noticed the phone in gojo's hands, not so subtly hidden behind the edge of the table, filming as kento waved his hands around in the air. nanami wasn't normally such a lightweight—whatever satoru had ordered him must have packed a heavy punch.

you sighed. "kento is going to kill him tomorrow." with that, you said goodbye to shoko and stood from the table, heading over to the two men conversing at the bar.

as you approached, satoru waved gleefully, not even trying to hide the fact that he was filming the entire scene.

"are you ready, kento?" you asked, grabbing your phone from your bag to check the time; it was later than you thought. "we should probably leave or we'll miss the last train."

"you're leaving? it's still so early," satoru whined, a dramatic pout on his lips. "i can just call ijichi-"

"you bother that man enough." you rolled your eyes. not to mention, kento would probably be mortified if his younger colleague saw him in such a state. "come on, ken-" you placed a hand on his forearm, but it was only there for a moment before nanami, politely, lifted it off his arm and gave it back to you.

"i'm sorry," he said, his expression one of complete seriousness, despite his reddened face. "i can't go with you."

you glanced over at satoru, who covered his mouth, trying not to choke on his laughter. "why not?" you asked kento, your eyebrows pulling together.

nanami stood straighter, his eyes hazy as he regarded you apologetically. his tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was undone, cooling his heated skin. "you're pretty," he said, slurring the words a bit. "but i have a girlfriend."

satoru's laughter escaped in loud cackles as he held the phone up higher, shoving it into nanami's face.

you blinked up at kento, a small smile pulling onto your lips. "you do, huh? you don't think i'm prettier than your girlfriend?"

he frowned. "no. of course not." kento's hair had come undone, two blonde strands falling over his forehead as he sifted through his pocket, pulling out his phone. he showed you the lockscreen; a photo of you smiling widely beside him as he kissed you on the cheek. "see how cute she is? she's beautiful."

you laughed, your cheeks warm as you took the phone from his hands. "she sure looks an awful lot like me, kento." giving the phone back to him, you showed him your own lock screen, another photo of the same day; this one was just of kento smiling softly at the camera, the orange sunset glowing against his skin.

he stared at the photo for a moment, studying it, as if unsure why you had a picture of him. then, his face cleared. "oh," kento breathed, looking back at you and then the photo, a realization erupting behind his eyes. "that's why you're so pretty."

you smiled, and tugged his hand to pull him away from the barstool. "you are very pretty too, kento," you said, and his cheeks grew redder, his smile lopsided from all the alcohol. "i'm glad i won't have to drag you out of here like a toddler." though you exhaled a sigh, it was more amused than anything.

waving goodbye to satoru, you led kento out of the restaurant, his arms stringing around your waist as he clung to you. he kissed your cheek, your temple, and you laughed breathlessly, pretending to be exasperated.

"i love you," he said, squeezing you tight. "you're my favorite person in the entire world." the letters were drawn out, the syllables meshing together as he stumbled onto his feet. you were certain he would've fallen onto the pavement, had it not been for the tight grip on your body.

he repeated the words again, i love you, i love you, like he couldn't get enough of the taste of them on his tongue.

the feeling of him around you was warm, and you leaned back into his chest, just as in love with him as he was with you. though, you couldn't help but mess around with him a little more. teasing him was, perhaps, the one hobby you shared with gojo.

"you love me that much?" you asked, but you still kissed him softly, grinning against his flushed lips. "two minutes ago you didn't even remember who i was."

he hummed, pressing a kiss to your top of your head, stalling you in the middle of the sidewalk. he dragged you close, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. "'m sorry, sweetheart," kento said, running a hand through your hair. "think i drank too much."

you laughed, lacing your fingers with his own. "maybe just a little."

[i-smoke-chapstick]

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

For Jerome and Jeremiah pls :3

Jerome: He swears he doesn't really cry, and if he does, he's more of an "I'm not crying, my eyes are just sweating!" type of guy. That's not to say he won't pretend too, though! Whether it's for comedic effect, or his voice taking on a satirical whiney tone talking to poor Bruce about his parents, he has no problem faking it to put someone down! We also saw how good he was at crying to fool Jim, so ;) It's rare to see this fella cry, but if he does, it's gotta be something REAL serious. Whenever he feels sad normally, he turns it into a big joke! So for him to cry, I can see him for once tapping realll into those emotions his sociopathic self represses, especially if he thinks he's losing something he cares about or depends on, like you.

Jeremiah: Again, he's not a crier per se, but pre!spray Jeremiah does cry on a relatively healthy basis. Whether he's stressed, or mulling over his mother, or obsessively worrying about Jerome's hunt for him...sometimes a few stray tears can spill. Not to mention if he sees something that reminds him of home. He could even cry over his gratefulness for you, if you're sticking with him in the hideout! Post!spray Jere is WAY more like his brother. Hard to get him to cry, but not impossible. He's definitely the more emotional of the two twins, and is quick to cry when he gets frustrated (as seen with Bruce). He has less of a grip over his own emotions than Jerome does. I can also see him happy crying when he's a little manic, ex. if you return his feelings. It's that wide grin that spreads, while his eyes start to water, that remind you just how intense he truly feels about you.

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

Have you seen Luke’s audition tape for IWTV? Now you have:

https://youtu.be/6voC3L8uT_w?si=KF_Ye_Ux5qokoen-

what's so crazy about this is that he's playing the scene in a way that's like. like if you had eric bogosian in his 30s play that scene that's exactly how he would play it. they changed the characterization of young daniel a little bit to make him more open and vulnerable compared to the jaded and defensive older daniel but it's like. oh my god. he literally has it. that's him that's daniel.............

[xxplastic-cubexx]

waiting for marvel to take you up as their comic artist so that we can have amazing art with cherik official storyline

marvel hire me to draw professor x and magneto making out sloppy style for forty issues straight you will get a BAJILLION dollars i promise

[valeriianz]

Smutty fic idea prompts - 36 is just perfect for Dreamling please?

36: A rolls sleeves up/takes shirt off, revealing body hair to B. B has no idea how to act normal around A anymore.

Hob dresses up as Sexy Santa for a staff party and Dream absolutely loses his cool <3

-----------

These days, Dream finds himself as the newest addition to Johanna Constantine’s friend group. It’s quite nice of her, if not a little presumptuous, to drag him along to nearly every social outing and local music show in order to introduce him to as many people in her network as possible. The only reason they are still friends, Dream and Jo, is the small mercy of her not putting up a fuss when his social battery has been drained and he awkwardly dips out.

The best thing to come out of these adventures, at least, is meeting Hob Gadling.

Hob and Jo go way back, or so she’d announced the first time he and Dream had met. At a bar where the lights were low but Hob’s natural charisma and warm smile had radiated through anyway. They got along immediately, exchanging intellectual conversations where Hob had surprising takes and kept Dream’s interest; kept the dialogue fresh and spontaneous. Dream didn’t even need to contribute much while sharing a space with Hob, he could simply sip on his gin something-or-other and listen as Hob went on passionate rants about revolutions or human invention over the past centuries– each time they met up he’d go down a 100 years. Or complaining about how washed up Shakespeare was (an argument Dream allowed himself to fall into and they’d talked about all night, much to Johanna’s chagrin and massive eye roll, muttering a very clear “nerds” under her breath).

Chemistry aside, Dream also couldn’t deny how… effortlessly attractive Hob was.

Deep brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with barely contained mischief, chocolate dark hair with brush strokes of greys that unfairly complimented his face, and a seemingly permanent five O’clock shadow that Dream never imagined would leave him staring and daydreaming… alas, he’d discovered quite a few new things about himself around Hob.

Like how he’d imagined on more than one occasion, how easily he’d be able to lift Dream, how those broad shoulders and chest, thick biceps that even a cable knit sweater couldn’t hide– might manhandle his own body, lifting and bending him into submission. Dream ached with it; the possibilities. Was dying to kiss Hob’s plush mouth, his gaze fell to it enough, or feel the stubble of Hob’s jaw under his own palm, under his lips, along the inside of Dream’s thighs.

Hob was everything Dream was not; roguish, masculine, and unbearably kind. It was no wonder Dream had developed a crush from their very first meeting.

And maybe Hob was interested too, if you squinted. He always offered Dream a ride home, set his hand on the small of his back, his shoulder, and never seemed to stop smiling in his presence. Dream was never very good at picking up cues though– his prior relationships had been him making the first move, striking immediately at what he wanted, courting in the most by-the-book manner, before he was ultimately either rejected or caught up in a love affair that burned out before the year was up.

He didn’t want to do that with Hob. Dream held back, kept his desires at bay… because he truly enjoyed Hob’s company. It would be devastating if Hob rejected him, or worse, fell into a relationship and then realised Dream was… too much, too fast, too methodical. Dream wasn’t sure he could handle not having Hob in his life now that he’d met him. He was determined to keep him around, even if it meant remaining friends. Dream could work with that, could suffer quietly and go home after a long night of drinking or dancing and being subjected to Hob’s ever-present smile, his unwavering gaze, the warmth his body radiated, even feet apart. Could hold onto those images and sensations and close his eyes, take himself in hand, and work himself to climax in the safe darkness of his own bedroom, clenching his teeth and imagining how it might feel if it were Hob’s hands on him instead.

All of Dream’s self restraint comes crashing down about a week before Christmas, at the staff holiday party Johanna had invited him along to.

Because Hob is sitting on a large red velvet chair at the back of the venue, surrounded by cotton snow and boxed presents, wearing absolutely nothing but a Santa hat, explicitly short red and white trousers, and black boots.

It’s a mockery of what you’d see at perhaps a mall: Santa waiting to greet children and ask what they want for Christmas while his elves putter around and keep order. This is…

Obscene, is what Dream’s brain provides before it completely resets and replaces the word with animal noises.

He’d overheard Hob and Johanna talking about this, how they had a “sexy Santa” every year (because Jo’s office was mostly comprised of women who voted on it every year, vastly sweeping the competition to the point of tradition). And to save on money this year, decided to find a Santa who would do it for free, hence Jo asking Hob to do her a solid.

Dream felt heat rush through his entire body, unable to look away as Jo, Matthew, and him walked out of the foyer and into the thick of the party. Dream heard Johanna speaking, but couldn't decipher her words, his brain wiped clean by the reveal of Hob’s body, something Dream had only imagined in the safety of his own head, and kicked himself over the exclusion of hair.

So much body hair. Thick, dark hairs covered Hob’s chest like a pelt, rolling down his abs and scattered out around his soft belly. It was enough to make Dream’s mouth water, a ringing sound began in his ears, making him dizzy as he forced one foot in front of the other.

Dream had only met Hob a couple months ago, while the weather had just turned cold and they’d both only seen one another buttoned and bundled up in high necklines and long sleeves. To see Hob nearly completely nude was a shock to Dream’s system. And holy shit, Dream wanted. He had to know how those thick hairs felt between his fingers, digging them in while he sat on Hob’s lap, grinding his hips down while his own naked chest slid along Hob’s. What sounds Hob would make while Dream petted and pulled and rubbed his cock along the swell of Hob’s furred stomach.

And then Hob spotted them coming in, his smile dazzling as he stood up and waved.

Giving Dream a fantastic view of his legs, which were just as thick and strong as Dream had fantasised, and just as hairy as his top half. As well as a view of how those pants rode up enough to make Dream question if the man was wearing underwear.

Dream stumbled to the nearest restroom, locking himself in a stall and attempting to breathe and calm his erratic heart beat.

Friend, friend. Hob is your friend. Dream chanted to himself, keeping his hand out of his pants and taking deep breaths as his blood circulation regulated itself. Don’t make it weird.

Dream didn’t know how to socialise on a good day, and how with a half naked Hob in the building– shamelessly on display and humouring drunk female staff as they boldly sat on his knee– Dream felt himself shutting down entirely, spluttering and stumbling over his speech with enough velocity that he feared he'd glitch and spark out, setting the place on fire. Or at the very least, melt into a puddle of goo, the remains of his dignity soaked into the hardwood floor.

Dream tossed back drink after drink, matching Jo’s pace if only to distract his wandering thoughts, losing his jacket somewhere in the scuffle and rolling up the sleeves of his black button down.

Johanna’s laughter snapped Dream back to the present, looking down at the red solo cup in his hand and Jo standing across from him, visibly swaying on that spot. Dream doesn’t remember what he’d said to elicit such a reaction, but felt his lips curl anyway. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You, dreamboat!” Jo’s laughter simmered down to a pleasant chuckle, if not a little devious. “I thought– nah, can’t be. But holy shit, you like Hob, don’t you?”

It took several long, embarrassing seconds to figure out what Jo just asked him. Dream felt warmth spreading up his ears.

“Of course. He’s my friend–”

“Nonono–” Jo stepped into Dream’s space, landing a heavy hand on his bony shoulder. “You like him. I can tell, because you haven’t spoken to him all night.”

Dream swallowed. The alcohol was affecting his brain, sloshing it around and rendering him speechless.

Johanna smirked. “Am I wrong?”

“You’re a menace, Constantine.” Dream said, pushing her hand off him and sliding his gaze sideways to find Hob rubbing the tops of his thighs. It’d been well over an hour since they’d arrived, Dream wondered how long Hob had been sitting there, playing a role he clearly wasn’t enjoying anymore.

Jo inclined her head.

“He likes you too.”

Dream’s head snapped back to meet Jo’s eyes, searching for that tell of humour or sarcasm, and finding none.

She leaned in conspiratorially. “He told me not to tell you. Thinks your eyes are ‘dazzling’ and your hands are pretty–” she makes a face at that one. “And that your hair looks– and I quote– ‘like raven’s feathers’.”

Dream swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

“When did he tell you this?”

Jo huffs a sigh, taking a sip from her beer, her lips making a smacking sound off the bottle’s mouth.

“The night after I introduced you two.”

Dream’s heart flips over at the revelation. 

Johanna winks and shoves at Dream’s shoulder. “Now go say hi before you break his heart.”

Taking Johanna’s advice seems like a death sentence, but Dream is just drunk enough to summon courage, finishing off his drink and setting the empty cup on a random surface, before forcing his shoulders back and finally making his way towards Hob.

The smile that breaks across Hob’s face once he spots Dream is staggering, and it strikes Dream down more so than before, informed with the knowledge that Hob might like him as much as Dream does.

Dream slips his hands into the pockets of his slacks, affecting nonchalance as he finally stands before Hob.

“Hello, Hob.”

“Hey, Dream.” Hob tugs on his ear, looking up at Dream. His entire body seems to relax, even slouching a bit in the chair. “Was surprised to see you here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know parties aren’t really your thing.”

Dream hums, his eyes selfishly taking in their fill. This close to Hob, he can catalogue every hair, curve and freckle in greater detail, storing the information away for later.

And with Hob looking up at him, giving the illusion of superior height, an unmistakable flicker of arousal begins low in Dream’s belly. 

“I can be persuaded, from time to time.” Dream smiles, coy. The alcohol gives him a confidence boost and relaxes him further. “I apologise for not visiting you sooner.”

Hob waves it off. “I honestly didn’t expect you to. I know this is… a lot.” He gestures to himself and laughs self-deprecatingly. “I only agreed to be Sexy Santa because I owe Jo a favour.”

“It’s a fetching look on you,” Dream says, flinging himself into the deep end. He bites his bottom lip as Hob actually looks twice up at Dream, his smile falling into something like disbelief.

“O-oh. Really?” Hob laughs, but it’s small, doubtful. Dream will have to remedy that.

Dream takes a long breath, grounding himself, licking his lips before speaking what he’d wanted to say to Hob all night.

“I believe it’s my turn to ask Santa what I want for Christmas?”

The prettiest pink flush rises up Hob’s cheeks. His lips part as his eyes rove across Dream, down and up.

Despite what Johanna said, Dream feels himself shake with nerves as he tips forward, touching the top of Hob’s thigh before slowly lowering himself onto it. His eyes never leave Hob’s as he goes, silently asking for permission and receiving a nod once he’s fully seated.

Hob’s hand instantly curls around Dream’s narrow hips, holding him steady, locking him into place both upon his lap and in his gaze; wide and dark and focused.

Dream crossed one leg over the other, settling his hands on his knees, which inadvertently causes him to sway that much closer to Hob. He can feel the heat of his body, this close. Can smell something sweet and earthy, like sandalwood and pine, mixed in with something tangy that makes Dream’s mouth water. He has to hold back the urge to close the gap between them and shove his face in Hob’s chest, into the crook of his neck, under his armpit and lose his sanity. Abandon all pretence and inhale Hob like a wild animal, scent and mark him with his teeth and tongue and–

Hob swallows. Dream watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs, fascinated.

“Are you messing with me?”

Dream cocks an eyebrow. “You think me capable of jokes?”

Hob laughs, soft, wonderful. “You are. You’re the funniest person I’ve ever met.”

His thumb is pressing into Dream’s side, caressing back and forth, sending spikes of electricity through his veins and heating him up from the inside.

“No one thinks I’m funny,” Dream says matter-of-factly. 

“Well, you make me laugh,” Hob says simply, his other hand coming across Dream’s front to lace his fingers together, forming a snare around Dream that ignites something within him. “You challenge me, keep me on my toes… keep me guessing.”

Dream’s heart beats so hard against his ribs it nearly hurts. He wonders if Hob can hear it, how he makes his blood race a mile a minute. 

“I’m being very serious,” Dream takes a breath. “But if you deny me, I’ll just say I’m drunk.”

Hob laughs again, his hold around Dream tightening and nearly causing Dream’s knee to bump into Hob’s crotch.

“Are you drunk?”

Dream is very aware that they are in the middle of a party, and although the people around them seem to be paying them little attention, it would probably be inappropriate to follow the path enticing him to resituate himself on Hob’s lap to instead straddle him. To grind his barely contained semi against Hob’s flimsy excuse for shorts, while winding his arms around his shoulders and kiss him stupid.

Dream leans forward, brushing his lips along the shell of Hob’s ear and lowers his voice.

“Not enough to not know what I want.”

Hob groans, Dream can feel the vibration in his own chest as he pulls back just enough to see how his eyes have fluttered shut, swallowing again before opening his eyes and focusing on him.

“And what do you want, Dream?”

“Whatever you’ll give me,” Dream wets his lips. His hands venture up, tentatively brushing his knuckles against Hob’s bronze skin, fascinated at how snow-white his own appears against it. His fingers uncurl as he dares himself to properly touch; pushing into the soft flesh at Hob’s sides and drinking in the unmistakable sound of a choked off whine from his friend.

“I’ll take anything, Hob.”

“Holy shit–” Hob whispers, his head lolling back, exposing his throat which Dream violently refuses to latch his mouth on to.

“Okay…” Hob clears his throat, his eyes swinging over to gauge Dream again. His pupils are blown wide, hunger clear in its depths. “Okay.”

He’s looking at Dream’s mouth as he speaks again. “Meet me out back in 10 minutes?”

Dream bites back a smile and nods, his heart soaring as he climbs off Hob.

Johanna gives him a knowing look as Dream stumbles back into the crowd to find his jacket and coat, managing a wave (great, now he owed her a favour as well) before all but running out of the building to make good on his promise to Hob.

Hob makes good on his offer as well; indeed giving Dream everything he’d wanted. All night.

[dykesevika]

(sorry for the big white spot i didn’t know what else to draw hsisnxhshx)

I love Ruby sm, she’s so cute 😭 I just had to draw her. (+ bonus, her and my oc Cory interacting!)

OH MY GOD HELLOOOOOO.? THESE ARE SO GOD DAMM CUTE .MY GODDD ????? Oh my god oh my godd my goddd I'm gonna cry. I am crying. omg .

Ohhh I am so giggly thank you so much, this just made my day week month and year 😭🫶

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[ruinix]

https://x.com/puckingdelulu/status/1886219713295826998?s=46&t=aWbVgiQolXyx-4czNnM1kA

I’m honestly glad he looks this happy though. HE’S GONNA BE OKAY GUYS. IT’S GONNA BE FINE

Oh fuck me. That's a beautiful smile... THAT'S GOOD. HE'S SMILING. HE'S HAPPY. THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS.

[hresvelged]

[ FLOWERS ]

“I feel as if an angel of gold just came down from the skies and blessed me with her beauty! Your splendor will blind me, Your Highness!” He knew to play safe with Edelgard- she was one of the few girls Sylvain knew to not play around with too much simply because she didn’t seem like the type to align with his own personal vendetta. Besides, she had much more power than he did- so he was safe from the fate of being seen as nothing more than a trophy husband.

But Sylvain was still Sylvain, and he’d never stop himself from appreciating a lady’s looks.

“And I mean that, okay? I’m not trying to win you over or anything, I know my spot! You really do look beautiful.” He still in the end handed her a single rose- thorns removed of course. “After all that happened, I think we all deserve a little party before we get back to reality. So loosen up, Edelgard! It's your chance.” A single wink, with a smile that felt genuine enough as he dropped the title in favor of her name.

"Is that so.."

Void of any reaction on the face, Edelgard knew how to wear neutrality. Sylvain's outfit was hard to miss with having similarity to the Margrave's. It was noteworthy. She studied his facial features as he spoke to her; the wink and smile accompanied by a rose void of thorns. She noticed that, too. Commenting on none of it, the Imperial Princess raised a wondering eye as she looked him up and down and tilted her head slight to the left.

"Good. You would find any efforts to win my affections in that way pointless." Taking the flower into her hands, its stem allowed her to grip it tightly.

Furrowed brows stagnated. "I am plenty.. 'loose'," she said bluntly. It was rare for one to so quickly refer to her by name instead of title all within mere seconds, but its appearance did not fall on her. "My.. chance? Even if that happens to be true, do you not wonder when next we might gather? It's crossed my mind more than once." In the end, nobody truly had that answer. Anything further said wouldn't alter its course.

Spinning the rose in gloved palms, she bobbed her head once: "No matter. Thank you, then. Ensure you nor anyone else uses this opportunity unwisely. I will be watching."

[pinnesasong]

you n cam are kinda... 🤨🏳️‍🌈... what do yu have to say about that

My dearest anon,

You misunderstand, my darling tartiflette. Please do let me clarify this deal for you. Richie is just a dear friend, nothing more! Really, that guy—Yes, he makes my blood boil on certain occasions. I mean, don't he think that I can see how he can be so blasé towards me nowadays... ME! How could anyone?! I'm universally adored and loved by many! But, to continue—Yes, he can be stubborn, and hard-headed, and mulish, and obstinate! And, yes to the thought that he can also turn me into teenage boy étuvée when he opens that mouth of his, that doesn't seem to know basic pleasantry and diplomatic speech, but that's friendship! I'll have you know that I am very grateful for all his aid and assistance to me regarding our maths homework and activities. He gives balance to our group; I'm sure the group has been saved from one or two times from being totally fucked with that big brain of his. He is an indelible cog in the machine that is the Dead Poets, and I believe that I speak for everyone when I say that he is a very DEAR friend to ALL of us. Nothing less than that. Teehee, did you know that he loves cake? I find that a little bit endearing, just a little.

[waterfallofspace]

cho//zo....? 🤭

I'm gonna assume this means C/hoso...? but if it doesn't, I'm so sorry!~ this bingo is for 'c/hoso', and if 'cho/zo' is a different character, I don't think I'm familiar <3 (all meant as genuine, not teasing <3 I genuinely want to make sure I'm answering the right character~)

(last bingo in this set so hopefully the spam will go down a little <33)

Bingo sheets under the cut!~ + rambling as always

Choso my beloved aghagh <3 i think as part curse who isn't used to this world, he is just- so allergic to most things. And also just the most sensitive, I put 'weird allergy', it doesn't exactly fit, but I hc so hard that if you touch/stroke/anything on his facial markings, the one over his nose, it gets him so desperately sneezy~ little kitten snz too, that he stifles instinctually, no one taught him he just does it~

I think he gets sick a lot, again, not used to the world, and he does not know/care to take care of himself well enough to prevent it, and he doesn't want to get anyone else sick (especially his 'family') but he also doesn't want to be alone <3

[heyimkana]

KANA, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GLAD IT DIDN'T BORE ME? IT'S A MASTERPIECE. EVERY SINGLE SENTENCE IS TO DIE FOR. I'M SORRY, BUT I'M A COMPLETE SIMP FOR PATHETIC MEN. AND THE WAY YOU WRITE JINWOO? IT DOES THINGS TO ME. I'M OBSESSED. I NEED THE NEXT PART IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE, I'M BEGGING. SERVE US THE WITH FOOD.

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MUUUUAAAHH!!!!!

BROOOOOOOOO YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY FOR REAL STOPPPP 😭😭😭😭 I'M SO HAPPY THO AAAAAAAAA I WANNA TATTOO THIS ASK TO MY CHEST

i'm also so glad that you like the way i write jinwoo 🥺 husband jinwoo is everything to me and i want to portray him being all soft and gentle and affectionate with his wife 🥺

I'M WORKING ON IT BABE DON'T WORRY IT WILL COME OUT SOON I PROMISE!! i'm not sure if i can cook a good meal but I'll try my best!!!!!

i have nothing to repay you for your sweet message so here, have a snippet hehe:

You snap your eyes open, squinting them as you grumble, “You’re such a tease.”

“Am I?” Another chuckle breaks free from his throat. “I asked what you wanted me to do for you, but you didn’t answer my question. I’m not a mind-reader, you know. If you want something, Sweetheart,” he pauses just to glide his thumb over your lips, his tongue peeking out slightly to wet his own as he gazes down at them. “You need to be a good girl and ask for it.”