#t’is the season

[ayo-aatc]

oh brother

[michellemisfit]

[thequietabsolute]

for reasons that shall remain through personal agency unrevealed to me, the national news agencies feel i should be ceaselessly informed that a fat and very gormless looking man from India, with no other distinguishing accomplishments other than he has extremely rich and, it seems to me from the little i’ve seen and overheard, endlessly tedious parents, is getting married

whoop-dee-fucking-doo

[tay-tayswiftie]

T’is the Damn Season

May 5, 2023 Nashville, N1

Source

[floweroflaurelin]

T’is the season! We’re getting festive with Scar and Jellie 😄🎄🔔✨

Made for @/sg0rby’s Red Reindeer Scar xmas card dtiys over on twt ~

[echooefrost]

T’is Hath Arrived !!!

My Copy of The Glass Scientists Volume 2 by Sage Cotugno (@arythusa) has finally arrived!

Ahhhhh omg I waited so long for this and the prequel story was to die for such an amazing feeling being able to finally grasp it in my hands. If you haven’t heard of tgs, I highly recommend you check it out, the second Volume just recently released and its jam pact full of beautiful visuals, a fun-loving cast, a really vibrant and immaginative setting, with the perfect amount of Steampunk-Gothic themes just in time for spooky season, speaking of spooky season: here’s my very spooky Skeleton Lady learning all about Long-term yearning and remorseful tension yaoi, that you can read all about in TGS!!! (She approves)

Finally before I close this off; I wanted to show off my super cool pre-order rewards that I just got printed out (the rest are yet to be cut) (don’t question it…) and no I did not decorate the border of the plate this time because there was a significant lack of room.

Again, Huge props to Sage for being able to send all of these gifts for free and taking up their valuable time to sign them all, They shall be cherished deeply 🙏

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 8

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, alcoholism behavior, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Chapter notes: The happily ever after. <3 Smut ahead, it's clearly marked.

He finds Ezra leaning on the porch railing, looking out over the back yard. It’s a crystal-clear December night, the bitter-cold air bringing every star into sharp focus against the inky black sky above.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” Joel asks. “S’fuckin’ freezin’.”

“Ah. Just admiring nature’s majesty and marveling at our place in the cosmos, I suppose.”

Joel joins him, back to the railing, sidling up to him until he can feel the shared heat of their bodies instead of the chilled air. Then he squeezes a little closer just because he can.

“Isn’t it a wonder to think that a billion different possibilities coalesced in just the right way to make the very star system, the very planet on which we find ourselves? The light from the stars takes billions of years to find us. Somewhere, some other civilization could be watching this very universe being born and think it nothing but a pretty illumination in the sky.”

“Are they freezin’ their asses off, too?”

Ezra breathes a low laugh into the night. “Such infinite complexity suggests that, perhaps elsewhere in this great ethereal realm, there exists another world similarly ravaged by plague, with similar creatures looking beyond their atmosphere and pondering the possibility of our very existence at this precise moment.”

“I reckon they’d have better things to worry about,” he grunts.

“Perhaps. And yet…here we are. Watching the sky, contemplating our place amidst the chaos.”

Joel huffs a sigh. “You’re startin’ to sound like Ellie.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, cher .”

He ducks his chin, folds his arms across his chest, toes at a loose board on the porch. “So, what…you tryin’ to wish yourself off this planet for a while? Thinkin’ of doin’ some space travel?”

“No, no,” he chuckles softly. “Just thinking how fortunate I am to have found you in this universe, songbird.”

When he finally finds his voice, all Joel can utter is a quiet, “That so, huh?”

“Undoubtedly,” Ezra stands, sliding over to thread his arm around Joel’s waist, lightly fixing him to the railing. The cold is momentarily forgotten. His hands slide down to slip into the back pockets of his jeans–he can think of worse ways to warm his fingers–and his breath is stolen by a kiss.

“Joel, where’d you put the–ugh, they’re doing it again,” Ellie's voice rings out from the back door.

The first time she caught them, the chastest peck, her theatrics could be heard three blocks over. At least tonight, she just rolls her eyes and goes back to looking for whatever she was looking for in the kitchen.

“Get a room!” Cee calls helpfully.

“Christ,” Joel breathes. “S’my own damn house.”

“Another time, then,” Ezra sighs, gaze lingering long enough to send a shiver across the back of Joel’s neck.

Then a commotion, the sound of pots banging in the kitchen, Cee and Ellie laughing, and Joel reluctantly pulls away.

“C’mon, spaceman,” he rumbles. “Girls are waitin’.”

“What’s on the cinematic docket for this evening?” Ezra asks as they head inside. They’ve started sharing movie nights along with the occasional family meal. It’s been a slow and tentative process, not for any hesitation on the part of the girls, who are clearly fast friends.

It makes Joel think, not for the first time and not without a pang of grief, that Sarah would have made a good big sister.

“ It’s a Wonderful Life . Ellie’s pick,” Joel grimaces. “Not my favorite, but t’is the season, I guess.”

Ezra frowns. “Oh…pity. I abhor this trope.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Joel mutters, then stops. “Wait, didn’t you…weren’t you there last year?”

“Your young prodigy may have cajoled me into attendance.”

Joel blinks. “She did what now?”

Ezra smirks. “I suspect she had it out for us long before we were ever in the loop, songbird. As I said, she’s wise beyond her years.”

“Damn,” he whispers. “That little–”

“Shit!”

There’s more clattering from the kitchen and the faint smell of burnt popcorn. And more giggling.

“Ellie?”

“Cee?”

“It’s fine, we’re…fine!” Ellie calls back.

“Nothing to see here!” Cee adds, as if that makes it better.

“Y’all, please don’t set the damn kitchen on fire again,” Joel calls, shuddering at the vivid memory of flames licking up the sides of an overflowing pot of popcorn left on the stove too long.

“That was one time ,” Ellie says.

“Zero times is the number I’m lookin’ for, kid.”

“Should we…intervene?” Ezra asks, nodding toward the commotion.

But then the girls enter the living room carrying two bowls of popcorn. There are flecks of the stuff stuck to Cee’s sweater. Later, Joel will walk into the kitchen and find the source of their laughter, kernels scattered on every surface, and he’ll have to harp on Ellie to sweep up the mess.

Yeah, the girls are getting along fine.

Joel takes his usual corner of the couch and Ellie plops down next to him, stretching out her legs to hog the rest. Ezra takes the other corner, and Cee opts to keep to the floor, leaning against Ezra’s knee with her bowl in her lap.

“Ready?”

“No,” Joel and Ezra grunt in unison.

“Too bad, suckers,” Ellie declares cheerfully as Cee presses Play.

An hour into the movie finds three of the four asleep; unfortunately for Joel, he’s not one of them. Ellie has dozed off against his shoulder, her feet tucked under Ezra’s thigh. He picks a stray kernel of popcorn out of her hair and tosses it into the mostly empty bowl. Cee leans against Ezra’s knee, and his head is tipped over the back of the couch, snoring.

“Buncha deserters,” Joel whispers, thinking he should reach for the remote and stop the stupid movie, but he doesn’t. Instead, he places a kiss on Ellie’s temple and watches his family sleep, savoring the rare moment of calm.

They have good days and bad days. On the good ones, they practice guitar and watch movies and share meals and she kicks his ass at Boggle. The words come easily and the silences are warm and comfortable and it’s almost like old times.

The bad days are less frequent, but they hurt like a scab. Eventually the wound will scar, but until then, it’s an irritation, too easily picked at and never quite healed.

Then there are days when she doesn’t speak to him at all. Days when she’s up and out of the house before the sun, where she doesn’t come home until after dinner or, worse, she just doesn’t come home. The first time that happens, they have a talk. Now she leaves a note on the kitchen counter, usually a single word: Dina’s .

He still hasn’t figured out how to bring that up in conversation.

It will never be the same, he knows. Her trust was a fragile thing to begin with, and his lies made cracks in the foundation of their relationship that only time can repair. 

But they’re trying.

Today is one of the good days. When he jostles her awake, she lingers sleepily against his arm. At the door, she indulges him with a hug, even hangs on long enough to let him plant a kiss on her forehead. Yep, definitely one of the good days.

“You stayin’ with Cee tonight?”

“Mmhm. You two can do…whatever it is you do when we’re not around,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“Y’mean sleep?” he says, barely stifling a yawn.

“Sure. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Stay outta trouble, both of you.”

Cee has an arm around Ezra’s waist in a brief side hug. They’re not usually so affectionate, still walking that strange line between close friends and family.

“Goodnight, birdie,” Ezra offers, voice going soft.

They don’t talk about Cee's father and Joel doesn’t press it. There are times when she looks at him as though she wants to ask him something–her father’s last words, or if he spoke of her, or if his death was drawn out or quick and painless–or maybe the weight of the death on his conscience has him imagining things. Part of him will always be waiting for the consequences of his actions to darken his doorstep.

They stand in the doorway and watch the girls walk down the street and around the corner until they’re out of sight. Joel wonders if Ezra has to resist the same urge to follow them until he knows they’re home safe. Tonight they’ll crash in Ezra’s office and plug Cee’s headphones into the record player and drink the beers in the fridge–the ones Ezra stocks specifically for this small act of teenage rebellion. Joel sighs as he closes up, thinks if that’s the most trouble they get up to tonight, he’ll count them lucky.

He leaves the door unlocked.

They really had intended to sleep.

Joel is not young. Ezra is not much younger. And while they had plenty of opportunities for alone time now that they were fully out, much of their original boyish urgency has faded, replaced by a comfortable companionship that’s probably more fitting for their ages.

And that was just fine.

But Ezra’s easy declaration on the porch lit a slow-burning flame. Skin to skin, warm and curled around each other, hands wander and find familiar holds. Ezra’s lips trace that spot on Joel’s throat that makes little electric sparks shimmer up his spine, and soon there are two pairs of boxers on the floor and Joel is caged by his partner’s broad shoulders, pinned to the bed under his lithe frame.

+++++++++++++++++++++++SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ezra prepares him well, pushes inside until he’s sheathed to the hilt, so full the blunt edges of Joel’s nails dig into the meat of Ezra’s lower back until his body remembers and relents.

Joel ignores the throbbing ache in his groin, content to watch as Ezra’s eyes flutter shut and re-open, heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide. He admires the furrow in his brow, the slack in his jaw, feels the taut rippling of his stomach against him as his weeping cock slicks the fine hairs at his navel. He strokes the patchy scruff on Ezra’s jaw, pulls him down to nip at his chin, lick into his mouth, press a kiss to the crescent scar on his cheek.

“Good?” Ezra whispers thickly, eliciting a dazed nod before their mouths meet. He lowers himself onto his elbow, resting his weight more firmly on Joel, changing the angle until he’s rutting in tight, shallow thrusts, hitting that spot inside that makes Joel groan.

He reaches back and finds Ezra’s hand, grasping it, letting their fingers twine like the rest of them. His thumb brushes the tip of Ezra’s tongue where it peeks out of the purse of his lips. Ezra groans and takes it inside the warm hollow of his mouth, bites down gently on the knuckle, traces the whorls of his fingerprint.

“You gonna come for me?” Joel growls, pulling him down until they’re chest to chest, hand cupping the back of his neck, threading in his hair and tugging gently. The other reaches between them, giving himself a few lazy strokes to ease the ache.

“Mmm, songbird…I…ohhh, amour , you…fuck…please…”

It comes out as a whimper, a whine, and Joel chuckles. For once, his partner has nothing smart to say as his thrusts grow harder, more erratic. Ezra’s mouth crashes into his, messy and desperate, feeding him a moan that fills Joel’s chest with the force of it. Ezra’s cock swells and throbs, warmth spreading sticky between his thighs, then he sags against his chest, panting and trembling with the aftershocks.

Joel urges them to the side and wraps his leg around Ezra’s hips, keeping them joined for just a little longer. Joel gently strokes his ribs, taking pleasure in the way the muscles twitch and jump under his fingers until he lets out an overstimulated hiss into his neck.

“ Amour …”

Joel grins, studying his partner’s face, the fire in his gut settling to an ember. He could almost be content to stay this way; sleep is hard-won, and if he allowed himself to drift, to pull the covers over them and close his eyes, it would be welcome. But then Ezra comes back to himself, sighing and nuzzling into Joel’s chest, circles one nipple and then the other with his tongue.

“I believe we have additional business to attend to,” he says, reaching down to stroke him slowly, letting his foreskin do the work, sliding over and over.

“Y-yeah?” Joel rasps, tongue thick in his mouth as his cock hardens under his partner’s touch.

“Tell me what you want, cher .”

“Mmm, I…ah, fuck, Ez, I–”

A growl rumbles up from deep within his chest and he pushes Ezra onto his back, covering his body, kissing him deeply. Ezra’s fingers stroke the planes of Joel’s chest, circling a spit-slick nipple with one finger, slides lower to trace the thick scar on his stomach and cup his arousal as it throbs and kicks between them. Joel hums in pleasure, momentarily distracted by these ministrations, then remembers what he intended to do. Carefully he crawls up the length of his body and straddles the other man’s chest. Ezra’s eyes flash with interest.

“Oh, I see we’re trying something new, songbird. I greatly look forward to seeing how you intend to–”

“Ez,” Joel says fondly, breathlessly. “Shut. Up.”

He cants his hips forward until his cock is grazing Ezra’s lips, parting them slowly. Forward, forward, watching the length of his arousal disappear until he feels the head hit the back of his throat. He thrusts experimentally, eliciting a choked gagging noise as Ezra’s eyes widen. Joel pulls back.

“This okay?” he whispers, suddenly contrite.

Ezra has the audacity to grin, and if Joel wasn’t already balanced on them, his knees would probably give out at the sight.

Then Ezra’s lips lock around his length and he sucks, hard .

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” he grunts, flames fanned to a roar, a blistering heat twining its way up the base of his spine. Ezra responds by gripping Joel’s ass with his hand and giving a sharp tug, pulling him forward, forcing Joel to brace himself against the wall.

“Jesus, Ez,” he growls. “You want it, huh? You want more a’ that?”

As if in answer, Ezra gags again, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. Fascinated, Joel reaches down to cup the man’s cheek, gentle even as his cock hits the back of his throat again, and again, and again. He lets Ezra set the rhythm, lets the waves of pleasure wash over him with every stretch and press of his cock deeper into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth.

Joel can’t look away, can’t tear his gaze from Ezra’s hungry eyes, his expression so trusting, so loving he aches with it.

“Yeah, you like that,” he whispers as one thumb delicately traces the track of a tear, wiping it away, a gesture that’s almost too sweet, too tender for the kind of fucking they’re doing.

“Take it, baby,” he murmurs. “Take it. All of it. There ya go.”

He groans as Ezra sucks, the back of his throat gripping the sensitive head while his tongue strokes and swirls around the length of his shaft. It’s not long before they find a steady rhythm that has Joel chasing his release.

“Alright,” Joel grits out. “Alright, yeah, I’m…Ez, Christ…so good…fuck…”

Ezra grins again, and any control Joel might have had over the situation slips from his grasp with a whimper. He’s at the mercy of Ezra’s dark eyes and that cocky smile, lips glossy with slick. He gives a low chuckle that sends pleasant vibrations up the length of Joel’s cock, then his strong, capable hand squeezes his ass, forcing him deeper. Joel tries to groan out a warning, a barely intelligible sound of pure pleasure before he falls over the edge. His forehead rests heavily against the wall as every nerve in his body is set alight, as his cock throbs and spills down the back of Ezra’s throat.

+++++++++++++++++++++END+SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++++

Limbs like jelly, head swimming, he manages to extract himself from his precarious position without kneeing his partner in the face.

“You alright?” he murmurs, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Didn’t hurt you?”

“Not in the least, mon cœur .”

Joel kisses him on the nose, nuzzles against it until he’s stretched out alongside him, half pinning Ezra’s body to the bed with his own.

Ezra gives a contented sigh of approval as Joel trails the gentle slope of his partner’s stomach, the fur at the junction of his thighs, the thick length of him soft and spent. He tucks his face into the crook of Ezra’s neck and breathes him in, wrapping his waist with one arm.

They should clean up. Even as he’s thinking it, his eyes are heavy, and it’s all he can do to fumble for the blanket they kicked to the foot of the bed. He pulls the comforter up to cover both of them and drifts in that post-orgasmic haze, face pressed to the side of Ezra’s neck, feeling the comforting thump of the other man’s pulse against his skin.

“Sing for me, songbird,” Ezra whispers into his hair.

Joel snorts. “Hell no. Guitar’s downstairs.”

“Last I checked, you don’t need a guitar to sing.”

“Yeah, but it covers all my mistakes. Ain’t got the voice for it.”

Ezra scoffs. “If you don’t, I will, and then you’ll deeply regret it.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he mutters, tipping his head up to bite at his earlobe, soothing the nip with his tongue. Goosebumps ripple along the curve of Ezra’s neck.

“Very well. You’ve been warned.”

He takes a deep breath. The most broken and off-key sound comes out of Ezra’s mouth and Joel is ready to smother him before he’s finished the first word.

“Christ, stop that racket,” he gasps, pulling back as Ezra’s laughter bursts and shudders against his palm. “Holy mother of…you weren’t kiddin’.”

“I hate to say I told you so.”

“That’s bullshit, you love to.”

“It’s true. But now you have to sing for me, amour .”

“Fine, fine, I’ll…just don’t do that again. ‘Least not til the rest of my hearin’ goes. Jesus.”

“It’s a deal,” Ezra says.

“The hell do you want me to sing?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Joel sighs. Outside has grown dark, the stars from earlier in the evening obscured by thick clouds. The first flakes of a winter storm have begun to fall, snowfall illuminated in a faint silver glow by the single street light outside. He can just barely make out the shape of the record album propped on his dresser for safekeeping. He never did give it back, and Ezra hasn’t asked.

Joel clears his throat.

“For you…there’ll be no crying,” he begins, whisper-singing the song that has become his namesake into the crook of Ezra’s neck. “For you…the sun will be shinin’.”

“But I feel that when I’m with you, it’s alright,” he says, leveraging himself up, brushing the sweat-damp hair from Ezra’s temple, taken by the shine in his partner’s eyes. “I know it’s right.”

He ducks his head, murmuring the words into the hollow at the center of Ezra’s throat, punctuating the ending with a gentle kiss. “And the songbirds keep singin’ like they know the score.”

His voice is clear and unbroken as their noses brush, as his hand cradles his jaw, the softest intake of breath as he whispers the final lyric against Ezra’s willing lips.

“And I love you, I love you, I love you like never before.”

Fin.

[midnightemy35]

T’is the Season for Giving

What I would give the Eleceed cast for Christmas 

Since it’s December 1st, I think its officially Christmas time

Jiwoo - another cat (you can never have too many cats)

Subin - that thing that looks like a pack of gum but if you touch the strip it shocks you (to use on jisuk )

Jisuk - a chance to beat up his “friends” (the ones who used him to extort money from other students)

Wooin - a bowl of jajangmyeon ofc

Kayden - new clothes (why does the mf wear the same shit every time we see his human form)

Kartein/ Curtin - balls (y’know for his cat form) + a break from Kayden and Jiwoo’s bs

Dr Delein - some bonding time with Wooin (he probs doesn’t get much time to spend with Wooin outside of Wooin’s visits)

Gangseok - his spar with Jiwoo

Iseul - a date with Jiwoo/ a break from Jisuk and Subin’s teasing

Sucheon - therapy + a good sleep schedule (have you seen how big his eye bags are)

Suman - a good night’s sleep

Vatore - shopping spree with Kartein

Jiyoung- a break from work (girl is so busy as the chairwoman of shinhwa and the top ranker of Korea let her have a break)

Inhyuk - a basket full of cat related stuff + a break from Jisuk’s bs

Seongha - a break from the gang’s bs

Arthur/ Asher - a prosthetic arm + a hug (his family are assholes)

Cain/ Gahin - a hug (my poor bby got stabbed twice by his “friend” he needs the hug)

Duke - a slap + clown makeup & nose

Amyeong/ Dark - therapy + a hug from mama Jiwoo 

Mama Jiwoo - bonding time with Jiwoo, Amyeong, Kayden and Kartein 

Veramonte Patrick - a hug (got some fun grandpa vibes from him)

Julian/ Jurion Patrick - a consoling pat on the back (for losing the chance to date Jiyoung to Jiwoo, he didn’t even have a chance to win her over from the very start)

Ian Patrick - an outing with the gang!! (I want him to join the group and add on to the sillies)

Spoilers under cut (Based on the chapters webtoon has released as of Dec 1 2023)

Schnauder/ Schneider - shoes (why does mf wear slippers out when it is literally snowing in Frame territory )

Supri - old woman perfume (idk much about her)

Andrei - a kick to the crotch (I really really REALLY don’t like him)

Earthquake - a kick to the crotch (don’t like him either, the two of them were beefing with a teen despite being fucking adults)

Roist/ Royst - a hug ( i love the clown boy)

Muse - a hug ( i love him he is beautiful and perfect)

Astra - a kick to the crotch (you’d think he’d have some dignity being a top ten but you’d be wrong)

Muras - a new eye

[mothgodofchaos]

Thighs

Antisepticeye x F!Reader, TW: none Words: 747

Sometimes a little self indulgence is necessary.

You get ready on the cold fall morning, putting together a cute outfit of a sweater dress, thigh high wool stockings, and some knee-high boots. A little bit of thigh shows, hopefully not enough to make you freeze while you’re out today. You add a hat to your hot girl autumn outfit, and head out for the day. It’s a short stroll to the coffee shop down the street, hoping to get some writing done today. You pull out your laptop once you’re settled in at your table, thinking about your order.

“Got room fer two at yer table, acushla?”

You glance up, seeing Anti wearing a beanie and an oversized black jean jacket with his usual outfit. He looks you over, clearly admiring your outfit. “I didn’t think we had a date planned today.” “Maybe not. Still missed ye. Figured ye’d be here.” Anti walks around to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kisses your cheek. It’s hard not to smile when he’s being this sweet. He glances down, and you see his eyes light up when he looks at your legs. “Oh, ye love me…” “Hmm?” He grabs your leg, squeezing your right thigh affectionately. He’s all giggles as you squeak, kissing you again with a tighter hug to pull you against his chest. “Ye always knew I was a thighs man, yer just teasin’ me now.” “In my defense, I wasn’t planning on seeing you today.” “So ye were just gonna flaunt all t’at t’ everyone but me? Ye wound me, acushla…”

Anti’s ears wiggle as you kiss under his jaw, full of giggles and affections for you. You send him away with your coffee order, and you watch as he bounces on his heels in line, trying to wait patiently for his turn. It’s adorable to watch, seeing him try to intermingle with society, covering his pointy ears with his hat. When he occasionally glances over to meet your gaze, he visibly lights up every time. You can almost see the points of his fangs when he smiles, radiating like a ray of sunshine at you. Don’t try and get him to admit it, but he’s absolutely adorable. He gets startled when he’s called forward to give your order to the barista, flustering him a little bit. 

You go back to your writing, watching him from over the screen of your laptop to make sure he’s not getting into trouble. He brings you over your pastry, stealing a kiss before he goes back over to the counter to grab your drinks. Really being quite a golden retriever boy. 

“Alright, got yer coffee. Need me t’ grab anyt’in’ else?” “No, thank you, baby.” Anti beams at you, pulling a stool up next to yours, grabbing onto your arm and resting his head on your shoulder. He purrs as you reach around his shoulders, sneaking your fingers under his hat to give him scritches behind his ears. He repays the affections with kisses to your cheek, grabbing your thighs with both of his hands. “Squish~” “Anti-”

He just cackles, getting in one more squeeze before you swat him, retreating into his coffee. “You are absolutely insufferable.” “Ye love meeeee~”

Unfortunately he’s correct, making you blush behind your hand as you try to convince him you’re annoyed with his antics. It’s not terribly effective, but it does get him to stop being nearly as handsy as he was before. His attention alternates between you, his switch, and what you’re working on. If he notices you’re low on your beverage, he gets a refill for you from the counter, returning each time with a kiss to your cheek. 

“I know ye weren’t plannin’ on a date t’day, but I hope me intrudin’ on yer work isn’t pesterin’ ye too bad.” “I always want to see you, baby. I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes spontaneous dates are better than planned ones.” You can see his ears wiggling under his beanie as he beams at you again, wrapping you in his arms. For a brief moment, he almost hides his face in your chest, before he remembers that you’re in public.

“I love it when ye dress like t’is. Drives me insane.”

“Well, it is now the season for sweaters and tall socks, so maybe you’ll see me in more of them. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Bet.”

You kiss his lips, hearing him purr as you pull away.

“I love you.”

“Love ye too, acushla.”

[childoftheriver]

T’is the season

[writteninscarlet]

“you look exhausted.” ; @billyktothemax

three word prompts ;; accepting

Wanda was quite sure that in every universe she would recognise her sons. The multi-verse was infinite, but as liked to say (mostly as the cliche annoyed others), a mother’s love knew no bounds. So it was in that strange fairy tale verse she knew them, so it was when she’d gone through the Last Door recently into a strangely apocalyptic universe. They may not look the same, nor act the same at times. But William, Billy, would always be recognisable.

That did not always go the other way. Wanda knew well what boundaries entrapped her. If it had been anyone else the thought of physical affection would almost have been laughable - she wasn’t opposed to hugs and warmth, but she had learnt to keep some distance. But with Billy and Tommy it was nice to show proof of her affection and feelings with more than words.

But not quite yet. Perhaps not ever with the Billy before her. The Billy in front of her was important and his own self, and she was not going to make herself look crazy (or crazier) by asking how he was doing, and if he was studying or working, and why HE looked exhausted— actually no, she would be asking that last one regardless if it over stepped a boundary line. Just to check he was alright.

She was a mother, but not one about to simply take over here. A chance to talk with him was good enough.

Did he recognise her? She instinctively knew him, did not need to even turn to him to know him - but she did anyways. Perhaps she was just that annoying stranger taking too long to look over the coffee menu in this little cafe (not her fault she was more of a tea person).

And what had the question been?

Wanda gave a soft sigh, and a soft huff of air so as to blow a loose strand of hair off her face. In civilian clothes, she mostly tended to blend in. Nothing spectacular to see here, expect some awesomely heavy eye bags perhaps. She WAS exhausted.

“All night spook-athon? There are so many marathons of quite classic horror films,” she tried first, a slight curl of her lips as she kept her smile soft, small, and amused. “A few too many moments with the creatures going bump in the dark.” T’is the season. And not a complete lie. She’d been sort of monster hunting.

Wanda then opened her arms out, a peaceful gesture, as more truthfully she said, “I’ve been working. Late nights. No sleep and here we go.” Not offended, but trying to look more stern (though there was an amused glint to her eye), the witch added, “Do you just outright ask everyone why they look exhausted? It can be a touchy subject, you know. So let me turn it around - why do you look so tired?”

[shellyshenanigans]

T’is the season to be jolly.

[a-polite-melody]

FOUR IN A ROW WITH IDOLS IN THEIR POCKETS

T’is the season of idol-in-pocket blindsides!

[cryssuk]

I should probably post here more! So have an animatic @canadianimator and I finished last year!

T’is the season! 🎃 🦇

[doctordonovan]

❀    ||     it’s exactly a week until my birthday !    and 10 days until my last day at my current job  !     t’is the season of change.

[vulpe-mp]

Going once... Going twice

W/ @mpxarawn

T’is the season of giving, so when Vulpe received an invite to a Holiday Auction, of course the demigod went and gave. It was time to do some good with the money his “parents” gave him, even though it would’ve disappoint both of them if they saw him bid on a spa day for a pet he didn’t own or a year supply of coffee.

That was the item he was bidding on at the moment and soon found himself in a bidding war with one of the other attendants; one he could only guess was a god, as he seemed to have no problem spending thousands of dollars on coffee. Either that or the stranger was just as irresponsible with money as he was.

Vulpe knew he couldn’t outbid a literal god. Honestly, he didn’t even care much for the coffee and at this point he could just pay for the coffee like any regular customer. But who’d he be if not a brat. So he kept bidding to drive the price up. It was for charity after all.

His exterior was calm each time he raised his sign, but on the inside he was just praying the god would not just suddenly stop bidding as the price was already up to 2.5 million and the snow fox had no desire to spend that much money on one cup of coffee every day for a year. He was a big spender in his every day life, yes, but with that kind of money, he could buy the coffee shop, he was sure.

Even though every part of him, screamed to stop bidding, Vulpe’s sign went up one more time, rounding up the price at 3 million. Surely the other would not stop bidding now, right? Right?

But then, nothing happened. The man did not raise his sign and the whole venue went quiet. You could hear a pin drop. Vulpe’s heart was in his throat and his ears started ringing. How what this possible…

“Going once...”

The voice of his dad echoed in his head, calling him an idiot, a waste of space. The demigod should’ve listened to his gut. He should’ve quit while he was ahead. And now he’d be out 3 million dollars. For coffee…

“Going twice…”

“It’s for charity. It’s fine, it’s for charity…” Vulpe whispered to himself in a panic. Three million dollars was a lot of money for any regular man, but he could miss it, he told himself. In fact, he could probably miss a little more, he finally tried to convince himself. That didn’t take away from the fact he felt incredibly stupid.

Why'd I decide to mess with a god?!