#this came to me in a dream /actual

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

pure fluff, fem reader, not proofread, katsuki really likes the way you smell, talks of marriage, katsuki being an absolute demon, biting bc is it rlly a cash fic if it doesn’t involve katsuki biting us ? lemme know if i missed sum else <3

a.n.: ..so this came to me in the middle of the night and i had to write it down before i forgot about it…please do not perceive me🫶🏾

katsuki keeps sniffing at your wrist.

for some reason, he keeps bringing your palm towards his face and you imagined he’d kiss it if he was feeling a little sweeter than usual or he’d bite your finger if he was feeling like a little shit.

imagine your surprise when instead, he just sniffs you and goes right back to watching tv.

he does it for the fifth time in the span of a few seconds and you turn your head that was smooshed into his chest staring at the tv to stare at him with a brow raised.

“katsuki.” he only grunts in response, nose pressed to your pulse point. a deep, grumbled noise comes from the deepest part of his chest when you try to pull your arm out of his grip.

“quit squirmin’. ”

“katsuki !” you squeal, giggling. katsuki grunts into your skin, pulling your hand closer to his face.

“what’re you doing ?” you chirp.

“ya smell like somethin’” is all he offers you for a response, your lip pulls up in confusion. you tilt your head.

“like what ?”

“i dunno, s’like—” he cuts himself off, pulls your hand away from his face to stare up at the ceiling in thought, only to bring it back to his nose.

you can’t help laughing at his behavior “ like what ?” you urge.

“different.” he settles “this some new perfume or somethin’ ?” he asks seriously, lifting himself up so he can sit up against the couch cushion and you follow, no longer laying but sitting up in his lap.

“not really, it’s this new body wash i found at the mall !” katsuki grunts in acknowledgment “was walking around with a friend and she recommended it to me, so i figured i’d give it a shot.” you explain.

“smells good right ?” you ask excitedly. katsuki damn near growls at your wrist, then he drops it and stuffs his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you tightly like he’s trying to squeeze you to death, pulling you closer to him.

“so fuckin’ good.” he rumbles, the way his voice deepens has shivers going down your spine and has you impossibly giddy.

“what soap is that ? need ta stock up on it.”

you roll your eyes “so you can steal it from me ? no thank you.”

“m’ your boyfriend, you’re s’posed to share with me. what’s that saying? what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours ?” his voice is smushed against the fabric of your clothes because he can’t stay away from your skin for more than three seconds, going back for whiffs like an addict. you wrap your arms around him with a snort.

“isn’t that saying usually for married couples ? we’re not married.”

“yet.”

your heartbeat quickens and you feel your skin prickle and go hot at how casually he uttered the word. you play around with the hairs on his nape.

“..yet” you utter quietly. his nose is pressed against your addams apple, deeming it his new favorite spot to sniff at you like a dog. “so until then, my secret stays with me.”

“tch, stingy woman.” he scoffs “might have to marry you sooner than i thought.” he smirks.

you move to shove your head into his shoulder in embarrassment and he straight up laughs, the asshole. you’d be angry if you weren’t as in love with him as you were in this very moment.

“oi, i told you to quit squirming.” he jests.

“katsukiii !” you whine. he only chuckles, greatly enjoying the way he’s tormenting you.

“what ?” he snorts, his nose is pressed to your shoulder “don’t act brand new, you knew i was gonna marry you.”

“this is bullying.” he barks out a loud laugh at your flustered response.

“me puttin’ a ring on that fuckin—” he grabs your hand again and presses his lips to your ring finger “divine smellin’ finger of yours is bullying ?” he chuckles.

“you’re so weird.” you can’t help the smile that grows against his shoulder and he feels it too, the smirk against your finger only grows.

“right back atcha.” he snickers, then bites into your shoulder like he’s trying to take a chunk out of you.

“ouch ! katsuki !” you yelp, smacking his back lightly, all he does is snicker like the evil motherfucker he is.

“sorry, baby.” he apologizes but you can hear in the teasing lilt in his voice he regrets absolutely nothing “ ya smell so good i couldn’t help it.”

a.n. : i actually don’t know if that saying is usually for married couples but pls ignore it for plot sake thx 🤞🏽💓

[teophan]

a fantastic commission from @themetalhiro of my Dungeons & Devil Fruits 5e Sniper Marksman, Vinsmoke “Starfall Gunner” Beretta!

it was an absolute treat to work with you, looking forward to the next opportunity to do so!

[heme3nc]

having an autism meltdown all by yourself handsome?

[endermagpieart]

What do you mean I’m a bit late for Janus’ big day? Of course not, how could you say such a thing! I definitely didn’t forget all about it in my absence and only get reminded in the incorrect quotes video live chat; that’s not like me at all ;]

Anyways I decided to dress our sassy snake in some different outfits I think he’d like. He seems like the type to get all dolled up on his birthday and it goes with Thomas posting pics in outfits inspired by the sides on their appreciation days!

@thatsthat24

[lotus-pear]

lore accurate chuuya canonically drives a 2006 sparkly barbie motorcycle

[egophiliac]

he's coming

I'M NOT READY

[undeadlaudna]

Had a horrible thought -

What if - Imogen cannot maintain control. Predathos takes over completely. They have to fight their friend, their girlfriend. Its long. Its tough. Its hard. But they do it. Predathos goes down.

Imogen's body remains, cold, lifeless. They beg someone to heal her, resurrect her.

But no Gods answer their call. They just released something to destroy the Gods, so why would any God answer their pleas?

[dozzerxb]

I forgot I had a tumblr account OOPSIES. fem leorio and kurapika (even though she looks the same) fighting

[ego-sum-deus-fractus]

There's a high chance that Naomi Solace is not much of an active parent but some of y'all are not ready for that conversation.

It would also explain why he's not mad at Apollo when he is turned mortal despite him being quite the absent parent.

And also as to why he has a big ass tattoo at the age of 15.

[itscherryterry-again]

if your toxic yuri isnt toxicyuri-ing to your tastes, store bought works just fine

[gh0st-4ss]

he think everything a fucking game.

[xxri]

hello shizuharu nation

[esmes]

that wouldn't be too painful, would it? 🎥 @theriddletrades

[rookamell]

Did I hear anyone say wound care? And perhaps a side dish of pining with maybe another dash of pining and also yearning? No? Well, here it is anyway! Set after the dragon attack and after Rook finds out the South is drowning in darkspawn.

Lucanis winced slightly as the cut on his shoulder pulled open again. It was deeper than he’d thought, and was still bleeding.

He gingerly reached up and undid the top three buttons of his shirt and waistcoat, laying his cravat on the table so he could try and inspect the cut.

Honey and lightning, Spite hissed, almost happily. As much as a demon of Spite could sound happy.

Rook is coming.

Lucanis swore under his breath and hastily tried to redo his buttons, but the door creaked open before he’d even gotten to the second one.

The open door let in the strange golden Fade-light from outside. It hurt his eyes, since he’d been standing in the dim dining room for the past few hours.

The open door also let in Rook, in a loose blue shirt, with her hair undone.

His fingers stilled, though he didn’t exactly notice. She closed the door behind her and turned back to him, dark golden hair falling over her shoulders and arms, wispy white-gold pieces framing her face.

He’d never seen her with her hair unbraided. He felt himself blush, absurdly. Almost turned away as if she was indecent.

She turned back to him, and only when her eyebrows shot up did he remember he had his shirt halfway undone.

“Lucanis?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. “What are you…?”

Her eyes widened as they landed on his shoulder, on the cut, and she hastily strode over to him, scowling as she did.

“You’re hurt!” She said, sounding more accusatory than worried.

“It’s a scratch,” he said, not knowing whether he should start doing his buttons up again or not. Even Spite shrugged at that.

“We were fighting darkspawn, you idiot,” She snapped, her hands pushing the fabric of his shirt off his shoulder, her eyes moving over the cut. For a moment, they flickered down to his exposed chest, and Lucanis felt a twinge of dissappointment when they did not linger there. Followed by exasperation.

“It could be tainted.”

“It’s not,” he said. “I checked.”

She sucked her teeth, then seemed to decide something.

“I’ll go get Davrin,” she said, turning to leave.

Panic seized him, Spite hissed, and he caught her wrist before she could.

“No!” He snapped, before he could think. There was a reason he hadn’t told the others. Hadn’t let any of them touch his injuries before now.

She frowned at him.

“Emmrich, then,” she said. “Or Bellara.”

“No,” he said again.

“Lucanis- “

“You do it, then,” he said, realising she wasn’t going to drop it. Stubborn, irritating… If she was going to insist someone look at the cut, it was going to be someone he knew wouldn’t use his blood against him. Or Spite.

It was going to be her.

She shook her head.

“I’m shit at healing,” she said. “And you know it.”

“You,” he said, still grasping her wrist, “Or no one.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, but this was one fight he would not back down from. She seemed to realise that after a moment, because she sighed.

“Fine.”

He let go of her wrist, and she motioned for him to lean against the edge of the table, so she could use the firelight to see.

“Hold still.”

Her fingers delicately prodded the edges of the cut, inspecting it for darkspawn taint. He held in his pained hiss, and watched her face instead.

Spite drifted over to the two of them, watching her work, but for once he hardly noticed the demon.

The firelight caught her cheekbones, dusting them in an orange glow, the edges of her lips, and her hair…

Lucanis had never understood many of the things other people found attractive. He’d always thought there may be something wrong with him.

But now, watching the way the firelight played along the strands of her hair, the way it shone… mierda. Perhaps he did understand.

She was made for light.

A faint green glow shone from where her hands moved along the cut, and he didn’t know whether the goosebumps on his arms were from her touching him, or the feeling of his skin and muscles knitting back together. She stuck her tongue out as she concentrated, and his chest ached slightly.

No, he’d never understood many of the things other people found attractive, but what he did understand was that he found her beautiful.

He’d never lamented Spite’s presence more than in that moment. Never wished quite so much that he could go back to who he had been before the Ossuary, before he had become… this.

Lucanis… Spite’s voice was tinged with excitement, and he mercilessly cut off that line of thought. There was no use for it.

Spite growled, drifting off toward the fire again. At least the demon was not being violent tonight.

“Fuck.”

The word cut through what had become an almost calm silence as she worked, and he couldn’t help but grin fondly, despite this ache in his heart. Despite the demon in the room with them.

“What?”

“I left a scar,” she scowled at him as if it was his fault.

“I can handle a scar,” he said, meeting her grey eyes. In the firelight, they were almost faintly green.

Her frown softened slightly.

“You wouldn’t have to,” she said quietly. “If you weren’t so stubborn.”

“I’m not trusting just anyone with my blood,” he said.

Her eyes widened, and then the corner of her mouth lifted, a dimple just barely visible in her left cheek.

“Very prudent of you,” she said, slyly. “Perhaps you could trust someone who’s a little better at healing than I am?”

“Perhaps the mage who runs headfirst into danger at every opportunity should learn to heal better,” he shot back.

To his surprise, she laughed. It started as a small chuckle, then quickly devolved into giggles, her grin so wide her dimples turned into lines in her cheeks.

It was the first time since Minrathous he’d heard her laugh like that. Seen her genuinely smile. He’d… missed it. Missed the way it seemed to push back the darkness.

He found himself chuckling along.

When her giggles subsided, she grinned at him, almost gratefully.

“I think,” she said, softly, “You’re the only person in the world who could have made me laugh after the past few days.”

He watched her, grinning at him, her hair framing her face, her eyes twinkling, and wondered.

There was a warmth in the room that had nothing to do with the fire. A softness. He wanted to bask in it forever, with her.

It was a dream, for many reasons. But it had been such a long time since he’d had a good dream.

For a moment, even Spite seemed content to simply be.

“Your hair,” he found himself saying, then realised it was a slightly abrupt change in conversation.

Her hand went up to it, almost hesitantly.

“My hair?” She asked.

“It’s… “ he cleared his throat. “Down.”

She gathered it almost selfconsciously, and let all of it fall over one shoulder. He had the strangest urge to run his fingers through it.

“I washed it,” she said.

“I don’t like wearing it down, usually,”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she grinned slyly at him. “The same reason you always have your shirt buttoned up to you neck? It feels… “ she trailed off, but he knew what she meant.

Vulnerable. Exposed.

“Not tonight, though,” he said, pointing to his shirt, still unbuttoned. Perhaps he should feel self conscious, or embarrassed, but he didn’t. Not with her.

“No,” she said, her eyes still on his face. “Not tonight. I… I was too tired to braid it.”

He made a mental note to ask Bellara to teach him. Perhaps he could… offer. No. He couldn’t do that. But perhaps he should still learn…?

“Coffee?” He asked, shaking his head slightly. Dreams.

“As a thank you for the scar.”

She hit his arm half-heartedly, and this time her scowl was playful.

“Yes,” she said, her dimples giving her away. “And I don’t appreciate the snark.”

[joonebugg]

MOONWATCHER‼️💪🥶🔥

SHE IS MY GIRL BRO SHOUTOUT MOON!!!!!!!!

Winter, Kinkajou, and Qibli are here too I guess.../sillay /lh

And as always, @yellow-computer-mouse !!!!!!!! Get in here boy!!!!!!!!!!!! I made hod dog!!!!!!!!!!!

[edlucavalden]

[cont of this, technically.]

Hold on there buddy.