#this was fun thank u anon <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[hjemne]

Tell me about your strong opinions

Ooh okay

-teenagers need support and restrictions when navigating the internet, but they also need to have unmonitored spaces where they can express themselves without fear of their parents seeing, especially queer teens

-tiktok authors are a menace to society. I am mostly joking about that, but also it pisses me off to no end. What really should have been a questionable kinky fanfic is now being published and is seemingly the only thing on booktok. People are connecting their real names + faces onto poorly written books entirely based on tropes and they are ALL just 'oh this bad boy is really bad but also he likes you but also you don't have a choice in this romance. Also there's only one bed. This is Art and to say otherwise is snobbery'. Erotica has its place in published fiction but oh my god not like this please stop

-during the 2 months where I watched the entirety of supernatural I became so unwell that I had to get an emergency appointment at the hospital because they thought I might have a tumour. I am 100% sure the two were connected. This isn't an opinion, but I'll allow you to draw your own connections

-attack on titan isn't fascist. It does, however, have complicated themes & depicts military states and segregation. Neo nazis don't have good media literacy & just choose to ignore everything that very explicitly says that imperialism, racism, war etc are Bad and Wrong. Aot doesn't have an easy moral and there are definitely different valid readings of the end. I will not argue against a Jew who is uncomfortable with s4 and doesn't want to watch it. However, to call aot irredeemable also shows a startling lack of media literacy and implicitly accepts the far right interpretation as the correct one

-historians and academics need to keep using the term Anglo Saxon as a neutral historical descriptor because the moment they stop they give the term to the far right forever

-everyone who has ever commented 'women ☕' is going straight to non-denominational hell. They are deeply misogynistic and will take any socially acceptable path to express it. It genuinely terrifies me to think how quick some people are to express a real hatred and inability to emphasize with women and how they can hid that behind 'its just a meme'

-i have many many strong feelings about how shittily cyclists are treated but that is probably for another time. What I will say is that the times I've been the most scared for my physical safety have been when drivers let their impatience and road rage literally nearly kill me

I fully accept people will disagree with some of these (& I'd be v interested to hear other views) but this is what I think

[jesuistrestriste]

Missing the Mike Faist priest kink era 😭 still wait for the«  see you in the next Wednesday service » ahaha I’m wondering if the locals suspects their relation or not( do they see each other outside his service ?)( Is he jealous when he sees other guys flirting with her before his church service starts ? ) 👀

OH MY GOD

an ask about "kneel" ???? im gonna cry

no let's talk about it because i never did a pt. 2 or anything

i think that a majority of the locals don't really suspect that the reader is messing around with the priest (they idolize him + see him as a nonsexual figure), but they do look down on her b/c of her visible promiscuity (i.e. the hickies and etc.)

they might notice her wearing shorter skirts to services, and crossing her legs/squeezing her thighs together incessantly throughout his sermons. someone might even catch a glimpse of soft bruises and red handprints on her ass after she bends over to pick something up in front of them the day after mass. and they're like omg? what is this young lady getting herself into? and who in this town could stand to do such vile, obscene things to her body? (as if it's not their precious priest)

i dont think they see each other outside of services/the church b/c they dont want to risk drawing attention to their "special, secret relationship". but! he does give her his phone number and she calls him sometimes when she thinks too much about him and gets wet :( he has talked the reader through touching herself on multiple occasions. tons of verbally guided masturbation over the phone as she lays on her bed, her hand between her legs, with an opened bible next to her. yeah.

he had gifted her that bible after the second time they had sex. not necessarily to indoctrinate her into the religion, but to give her a representation of something that was important to him. it was his subtle way of trying to connect with her. but it kinda backfired b/c now she gets hot and flushed when she reads the words "God" and "peace" and "faith". he basically pavlov's dog'd her. classically conditioned.

because she lost her virginity to him, she's definitely very attached. she tells him that she isn't, but its a total lie and he knows it too. she gets jealous when women, young or old (doesn't matter), come up to him after services all smiley and ready to talk to him about their problems. reader usually gets red in the face and pouts in the back pew as she watches their interactions closely. she worries a lot that she isn't the only person in the town that the priest is intimate with, but she is. he's fairly attached to her too. and because she's a pretty young woman, divorced dads and older teen boys will often try to flirt with her before the priest's regularly scheduled homily, and he has to gather all the restraint in his body not to insert himself between you and them.

they are very cute + sacrilegious. ugh.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

One night at the Hotel, they're scrolling through HellFlix and Vaggie suddenly gasps.

Vaggie: NO FUCKING WAY! It's finally on here!

Charlie: What? You find a show you like?

Vaggie: Not just "like", this is the best show EVER! I've wanted to binge it with you for years!

Charlie: Oh, neat! So, what show is it? What's it about?

Vaggie: I got three words for you, babe. Xena. Warrior. Princess!

SHE WILL RULE IN HELL AT LAST! HER TV SHOW SHALL REIGN SUPREME IN THE HEARTS OF THE MOST DANGEROUS BEINGS IN HELL!!!!! there is just ONE worrying part to that though....

Charlie: "Wait, she kills the king of hell?"

Vaggie: "It's not a historically accurate show babe don't worry about it."

Charlie: "Still... now I'm picturing her murdering my dad. Not sure how to feel about it..."

Lucifer: (intensely eating popcorn behind them) "Well I'd feel GREAT about it!"

Charlie: "Wh- Dad!?"

Lucifer: "It would be an honor."

Charlie: "To be KILLED by her???"

Lucifer: "Of course! Look at her snarling war face! Look at her THIGHS-"

Charlie: "DAD!!!!!"

Vaggie: (sighing) "Wish I was king of hell so she'd murder me..."

Lucifer: "Poor Maggie." (pats her) "There there, maybe Xena- or Gabrielle might be better seeing as you've been cheering every time she comes on screen- maybe they'd agree to murder the princess consort of hell too?"

Vaggie: "I uhhhh- s-sir, me and Charlie, we're not-"

Lucifer: "Right yes of course! Future princess consort."

Vaggie: "Ffffffuture-?"

Charlie: "DAD HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT ABOUT XENA!? YOU ARE STILL MARRIED TO MOM!"

Lucifer: "Ohhh Char-Char.... Lilith would be FIRST in line for death at the hands of this warrior princess lady and her gal pal. Especially if they used those amazing thighs of theirs to-"

Vaggie: "Sir, please don't finish that sentence and ruin the best show in all creation for my girlfriend by adding more family trauma."

Lucifer: "Whoops! Gosh am I saying too much now? Oh golly, my bad my bad, ha ha ha!"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Sweetie? Wanna switch the show off for a while?"

Charlie: "....actually, Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "?"

Charlie: "... D'you think we could get a Xena costume in your size?"

Lucifer: (jaw drops)

Vaggie: "Hhhhh... I- yeah, probably? I mean.... this is hell, and her outfit is mostly leather, so...."

Charlie: "Would you wanna wearrrrr it~?"

Lucifer: (drops popcorn)

Vaggie: "Do you even have to ask?"

Charlie: "Mmmm heheh- but I like setting a good example, and you know I loooove it when people ask~"

-THUD-

Charlie: "ohshitballsdickfuck- DAD-"

Vaggie: "Hostia!" 

Lucifer: "IM FINE! AHAHAHA"

Charlie: "Dad- dad im so SORRY i forgot you were here-!"

Lucifer: "NO NO I HEARD NOTHING AND AM A-O-KAYYY!!!!"

Charlie: "You fell face first onto your own cane! You're BLEEDING!"

Lucifer: "Everything is fine! Once I've been sick into this bag of popcorn i will be extra specially FINE and our little impromptu family tv night together is going SO SPLENDEDLY WELL, isn't it Maggie!?"

Vaggie: "Ajo y agua..."

Charlie: "VAGGIE HELP- THE BLOOD??"

Vaggie: (sighing) (smiling) (standing up)

Vaggie: "...I'll go get the first aid kit."

-silly bonus-

Niffty: (from under couch) "I'll trade you the first aid kit for a vile of his bloooooood~~"

Charlie, Vaggie, Lucifer: (screaming and jumping on the couch and clinging to each other in terror)

Niffty: "Don't worry!" (giggles) "It's just for my Collection~"

Charlie, Vaggie, Lucifer: (screaming LOUDER)

[sculkshrieking]

COULD I GET A 3L SCAR... or cat hybrid scar... or both....

both!!!!

[rsanchezslut]

Bless us with all those sweet Rick x reader headcanons you hold

!! thank you sm for asking !! i'm not sure how many i have in such a broad sense, but here are some HCs i usually apply when thinking abt a relationship w/ rick!!

xXx

-i always imagine you meet Rick through Beth somehow. In my head, it's usually though an exercise class of sorts (Zumba, bc my first R+M hyperfixation was when I was doing dance twice a week LOL), but I also really like the neighbors approach too (typical) because i think it's fun to think she starts inviting you over to have wine nights with her and you become really good friends!!

-I also love HCing Morty bonding with you too!! Seeing the way you make his mom happy and pique Rick's interest in just the right way makes him literally. Want. to befriend you. He thinks you're cool and also genuinely NICE ASF which lowkey pisses Rick off for a bit but makes him all the more inclined to like, actually talk to you (bc he's jealous you won over Morty so easily<3)

-Rick definitely goes (a little) out of his way to impress you (eventually). not... overboard, because he's still Rick and his literal brand is not caring ofc, but... i do think he enjoys it, per se, esp season 5+ Rick who's a lot more considerate... when you seem interested in what he's doing and actually want to talk about it. Part of him is def still skeptical, but... it grows on him the closer you get emotionally ...

-Rick is surprisingly appreciative of acts of service!! Esp. things like cooking him food / doing laundry, and even more so if who you're helping is Beth, Morty or Summer!! I always think about you dropping off food for the family if Beth is working late, or helping summer w/ her homework... and i for sure see it as something Rick... notices and pays attention to.

-I LOVE RICK'S LITTLE COT in his room. it is so silly to me that he sleeps on that in HIS fucking DAY CLOTHES. So I think he gets all weird abt spending the night at your place. Maybe weird is the wrong word, but like. usually he's down to fuck and then just go home (or spend the night but not care abt the emotional significance of it and skip your morning together) and it's like. Lmaoooooo.

which I think for a while you're kinda cool w/ because... idk. It's not that serious? but the first time you actually have a real sleepover in your own space (and not an alien motel or his car) is genuinely so. intimate. and signifies and big change

-omf there was only one bed fic WHEN???? sharing a room fic WHEN?????

-but FUCKING IN HIS CAR HAS DEFINITELY HAPPENED absolutely. the way he had a little curtain when he was w/ daphne ... you have def used that curtain. and literally slept back there too.

-he has more dad/caring traits than he realizes. Sick? Sleep it off. Need a nap? Here's a bed. Always has everything you need on hand and is willing to give it to you <3

-he thinks it's hot when you fight with him and doesn't take you serious half of the time because of it

-when he doesn't smell like alcohol and oil he actually smells. so fucking good. Naturally sweet and kinda musky but in such a comforting sense!! u always know if he's been around somewhere in the house bc the scent lingers (or maybe youre just sensitive to him, who knows)

-one day we need to talk about his horrible possessive-ness streak when you actually manage to get close to him. Always talking abt how he doesn't care but really he's a HORRIBLE liar. coping mechanisms are 0/10 (tell me why he's surprised to find out you need to cope too LMFAO)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Hi!! This is hopefully a fun question to ask! 💚 What are some of your favourite versions of suguru &/or satoru by your moots/non-moots that you’ve read in their fics ? For example your winter satosugu drabble has my favourite satoru 💅💅💅

🥺🥺🥺 ANONNNN first of all i’m so happy you like that satoru…… i’m really fond of him too!!! he’s very Husband + the implied mommy issues are tasty imo…

but wahhh… this is absolutely a fun question!!!! i doooo wanna preface this by saying that i legitimately love . all my moots’ versions of stsg. they’re all a little different so i go to different moots/other writers depending on what i’m looking for :3 i love love love the fact that fanfic births so many different takes and aus…. it’s one of my favorite parts of reading it!!!

i doooo have some versions of stsg that i’m partial to though!!!! gonna throw them under the cut, i decided to only go with my moots because i’m…… really scatterbrained. there are SO many other sugus and torus that i adore my brain just can’t pull them out at command </3 but i hope this’ll suffice!!

first of all…. my favorite gojos :333

niku’s gojo in general is one of my favorites ever ever ever but i’m specifically adding a link to bten because . bten lives in my brain <3 and i adore both bten!reader & bten!gojo more than anything….. ANYWAY . niku’s gojo is my favorite for many reasons but above all else he just…. feels so real to me . sometimes i have to remind myself that i’m reading a fic and not canon content bc her gojo just FEELS like gojo . it’s a little scary. i read bten and heard kaiji tang’s voice in my ear 😭 i think it’s sooo difficult to capture the balance that canon!gojo has, but niku does it so effortlessly!!! he’s so charming and guarded and annoying and kind beneath it all and i’m just….. in love with him . that’s all. i do want to strangle him just a tiny bit but mostly i want to kiss him.

sel’s col!gojo…. my baby my husband the loml. i adoreeeee sel’s take on gojo and the way he views/approaches love ….. and just like niku her gojo feels so real and so grounded!!!! sel has a way of rounding out her characters and making them feel so human, which i. adore. and it works so well with gojo. col!gojo is canon to me idc. he’s so relatable to me and following his story with col!reader was just so touching 🥹🥹 i . cried . every time he blushed or got flustered i fell to my knees . flustered gojo is really hard to get right i think??? bc it’s just….. such a rare mood from him. but it feels so perfect in her fics. col!gojo reminds me of a plant in the softest, most loving way and i just want him to grow and embrace the sun !!!!!!!! i want him to be happy….

another general pick; alexis’s gojo!!!!!! (link goes straight to my personal fav which is a very bold statement to make but i think abt this fic constantly)…. this is another gojo that just feels. so canon to me somehow???? every time i read her gojo fics i’m just like yeah…. that’s gojo satoru. that’s the gojo satoru that i love and adore. it always reminds me of WHY i love him sm and it’s just….. such a wonderful feeling yk??? alexis rlly captures what i perceive as the core of his character!!!!! i can’t tell you what it is exactly but i feel that so strongly!!!!! he’s my baby and i love him so so bad. he makes me so happy and he feels so human:((((( i just love him…. him and his self-destructive little habits….. also special shoutout to idol!gojo bc he’s just soo. yeah.

then we have io’s flower shop!satoru <333 the fic isn’t out as of rn, but i added a link to a snippet that i’m still swooning over….. i ADORE this concept and it’s so perfect for io’s gorgeous and flowery writing!!!! he was made for her fr…… i just really love the idea of a soft, gentle, smitten satoru 🥺 and him being a flower boy rlly scratches an itch in my brain because of his canon ties to flowers!!! the fact that he kind of views other people as flowers. or at least compared them to flowers in ch. 236….. i just feel like this concept is . genius. nature loves satoru and he loves it back . he’s a nurturing soul at his core imo and that’s not something i see people explore super often, but this au captures it perfectly <33

NOW. SUGU TIME.

moss’s knight!suguru…. my beloved. not a day goes by where i don’t think about him. there isn’t a single language on this earth that could properly convey the physical reaction i had when i read this drabble . this is . The most attractive suguru in the world. to me. he’s so sexy i’m sorry i need him so bad. we all know how i feel about knights and suguru individually so when you mash em together….. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 yeah. my life was changed. the armour the blood the contrast between his polite exterior and gritty fighting … i’ll be so honest just the idea of knight!suguru fighting using his fists instead of his sword is enough to have me falling to the floor in agony like i NEED him. you don’t understand. you will never understand. it physically pains me to know that he will never beat ts out of me. BUT YEAH HE’S JUST SOOO???? he’s so hot and cool and Doomed and i desire him carnally

then we have mickey’s suguru :3 he’s just….. soooo fucking charming? it’s sickening . i can’t stand him. he’s perfect and i need him. mickey always writes him in a very wolfy way while also making him feel so soft and sweet and i just…. adore it. he’s a loverboy first and foremost and he makes me sooooooo happy it’s insane…… i’m linking my personal fav sugu fic of his but i truly adore them all!!!!!!!!! his suguru is just . theee most charming man alive and that’s all i can really say to properly convey my feelings. this particular fic genuinely wrecked me i got soooooo flustered just reading it 💔💔💔 save me sweaty!sugu…….. save me……….. he’s a wolf he’s a romantic he’s a cooer and most importantly he’s my Wife :33

kairo’s suguru is soooo lovely and so hot but i’m especially in love with black is the colour!suguru….. he’s just. so hot i’m sorry. not really though. tattoo artist sugu 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 with his piercings …. his honeyed voice…… his boundless devotion…… heavy breathing . he’s so mommy in this. but also so Father. that’s the best way i can explain it aaaaaaand i’m terribly weak to it……. he’s just so perfect there are SO many scenes in this fic that made my knees buckle 😔😔 he’s so sweet and doting and complex and just hhhhhhhhhhhHHH kairo if you see this you’ve ruined me for life…… specifically thinking about the scene where he worries he acts more like a dad than a boyfriend sometimes + where he calls reader his dove…… i need him in my life i need him to fix me

lily’s poseidon!suguru stole my heart very recently and i have ….. not stopped thinking of him since. i love any take on suguru as a god and lily’s version is just so genius . suguru being a god of the sea????? it’s perfect….. and the fact that he’s so gentle and coaxing and sweet 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 just the way he speaks in this drabble had me captivated he is truly the god of all time….. and his DESIGN . the concept in itself. i know for a fact that he’s the most stunning man you’ll ever see. he’s so almighty and powerful and he speaks so softly and gently but you hear every word crystal clear because he just has this Presence…… i rlly can’t stop thinking about him.

then we have rem’s suguru!!!! who is the acts of service king of All Time. and i’m obsessed with him. i love chatting with rem because i love her but also because we always agree on suguru and her thoughts always make me feel insane….. he NEEDS you to need him. he needs to take care of you. or he’ll literally explode. he’s such a caretaker and i can’t get enough of him….. that’s really the Core of suguru’s character imo!!!! his desperation to take care of others. he wants to take care of you more than he ever takes care of himself because doing that makes Him happy. and rem just captures that so, so perfectly, yknow?????? oughhhh her sugu is just so Mommy i need him to coddle me :(((((

aaaaand finally!!!!! last but not least!!!!!!!! rheya’s vamp!sashisu :33 i know you asked for stsg specifically but i’m throwing in shoko as a bonus bc they’re All characterized so well in this. they live rent free in my silly little brain . there’s not a single person on this planet that i trust to write poly sashisu more than rheya bc she just Gets them!!!!! and….. vamp!sashisu..,… lord save me…….. they could drain me like a capri sun idec. I LOVE THEM!!!!!! their preferred biting spots just feel soooo in character and the fact that they’re all so gentle makes me emotional 🥺🥺 generally speaking i’m not super into vamps but rheya entered my life and i was changed forever . i need them so bad

i wasn’t gonna tag anyone originally, but i want you guys to know how much i love you and think abt your silly little guys actually... thank u for letting me read abt them 🥹

@stellamancer @seiwas @kissxcore @neptuneblue

@mossmotif @dollsuguru @teddybeartoji

@storiesoflilies @hayakawalove @satoruxx

[jacarandaaaas]

Any modern madrigals hcs?

ooh I love this ask!!

isabela loves supporting local farmers and florists! she even volunteers at a flower stall!!

luisa has a squishmallow collection that she’s very passionate about!

antonio loves roblox and animal crossing! he often plays with mirabel and camilo (both of them suck)

camilo plays on the local soccer team! he’s also head of the theatre club in school

julieta is a baker! she often donates her baked goods to charities in need <3

mirabel has her own etsy store where she sells embroidery, crochet, sewing etc she also participates in the art club!

dolores loves podcasts! she gets really immersed in them! I also feel she would love pinterest

pepa & felix met at a nightclub! pepa was so tipsy she started dancing on the bar and that’s the moment felix fell in love

felix is a stay at home dad! pepa runs her own business! (Im not sure what for yet)

agustín is really active on social media he mainly just posts 😄👍 under every post

alma loves facebook she posts the exact same selfie at the exact same angle every single time! one time camilo told her “hoes mad” was slang for whats up and alma actually captioned a selfie “hoes mad”

antonio and luisa visit the petting zoo on weekends

isabela is studying ecology

luisa is studying to be a physical education teacher

mirabel wants to major in fashion design

camilo wants to pursue performing arts!

dolores studies music! (or psychology)

bruno is a playwright!

bruno is basically like an old man! doesn’t use social media probably says “get off my lawn” a few times! and definitely sleep deprived

Has a soft spot for the madrigal grandkids!!

In contrast to bruno mirabel is VERY active on social media

Isabela has an Instagram account for plant of the week

camilo posts shitpost tiktoks and writes wattpad fanfiction

pepa and felix are super proud parents so any social media post is some form of “look at my baby!!!”

alma loves sudoku

isabela loves biology and finds it really interesting! she would often just tell people random plant facts (usually whoever is around most of the time it’s unfortunately mirabel)

luisa loves the sims and has a load of cc

mirabel is also in the theatre club

mirabel loves buying homemade earrings or making her own she also would have butterflies on everything

luisa loves barbie movies

Isabela loves hair dye

isabela also prefers books to movies as does dolores

alma STILL sucks at humor😭

[mappingthesky]

planymphia wives honeymoon cutesy fluffy and overwhelmingly emotional drabble pleaseee

take my hand (take my whole life, too)

or: it’s their first week of being married - jane can’t stop referring to nymphia as ‘my wife’, nymphia can’t stop crying, and no one has ever been more in love in all of time.

Jane wakes up when Nymphia rolls over and flings a heavy arm across her torso in sleep.

Jane’s eyes flutter. Sunlight threatens to spill in from the other side of the heavy hotel room curtains all too soon. She’s only half conscious, and her eyes are still a little blurry with last night’s wine, and she’s content to drift back off to sleep, lulled by the gentle brush of Nymphia’s fingertips down her sternum, but then-

A little gasp, a sharp intake of breath. “Oh my god.”

“Mmwhat?” Nymphia mumbles, her eyes still closed as Jane grabs for her hand. Again, when her wrist is nearly pulled from the rest of her arm. “What?”

“Nymphia,” Jane whispers, but it’s thin, because she’s smiling. Nymphia can barely make it out through the dim light of the room and the sleep that clouds her vision, but she knows it just the same. She would recognize that smile by the sound of Jane’s words spoken through it, by the feeling of her soft gaze upon her. She would know it anywhere - even in the dark.

“We got married.”

Nymphia’s eyes blink open and look over at Jane. She’s on her back, holding Nymphia’s hand up to the light. She turns it over carefully, fingertips against her open palm, thumb tracing over the silver band on Nymphia’s ring finger. A diamond glitters in the dark.

“I know,” Nymphia grumbles, still half-asleep, still unwilling to be awoken for anything at all. “Spent eight months planning it, ’member?”

It was longer than that. It was the culmination of years of dreaming and months of planning, of Nymphia ironing out every last detail, Jane somehow even more stressed than she was, because she’d wanted it all to be perfect. For her.

(“You have a say, too,” Nymphia had reminded her on more than one occasion. “This day is about the both of us.”

“I know, baby,” Jane said, that spot between her brows that creases when she thinks too hard momentarily relaxing as she kisses Nymphia’s cheek. “But it’s really about you. Everything is about you.”)

Jane pulls Nymphia’s hand closer, studies it for a long while. Nymphia’s eyes are just closing again when Jane presses a kiss to her ring finger, then to her palm, more kisses up the inside of her wrist, the length of her arm, up her shoulder. Nymphia whines.

It comes back to her slowly as Jane coaxes her from her sleep, the only one she’d ever allow. Their night. It was everything they ever could have asked for, more than that. Their friends lining the aisle, swearing that they knew this day would come, arguing over who had really called it first. Jane, who had sworn she wouldn’t cry, who had warned Nymphia not to be worried if she didn’t, dissolving into tears the moment Nymphia emerged in all white. Nymphia, unsurprisingly to everyone, openly sobbing for half of the night, dabbing a tissue underneath her damp eyes at the dinner table. They’d had two glasses of champagne each, and nothing else.  They’d promised, because they wanted to remember this: the toasts, the dancing, each other, every moment.

Nymphia is beaming by the time Jane kisses her shoulder blade, eliciting a hum.

“Was it everything you wanted?” Jane murmurs, brushing a dark strand of hair back to kiss Nymphia’s ear.

A smile splits through Nymphia’s sleep, eyes still closed as she nuzzles deeper into the pillow, deeper into Jane. “It was perfect.”

Jane kisses Nymphia’s cheek. “What was your favorite part?”

“Mmm,” Nymphia hums, because how could she ever pick just one shining moment to stand out among the rest? How could she even begin to split the single most incandescent day of her life into segments? 

“The part where we went home,” Nymphia says, and Jane is pulling her closer. “The part where we went to bed and you let me sleep in.”

“Can’t let you sleep in,” Jane says, chin coming to rest on the crown of Nymphia’s head where it comes to press against her chest. “Too in love with you.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, basking in the warmth of last night as it rolls over to this morning.

“Wanna know my favorite part?” Jane asks, and Nymphia can feel the soft reverberation of her voice through her skin. “The part where we wake up and I get to say that you’re my wife.”

Nymphia can’t help but laugh at the sentiment. “This part?” she says, finally tilting her head up to look at Jane. She’s never gotten used to this - Jane looking at her every day like she’s still shiny and new. She doesn’t think she ever will. 

“Yeah. This part,” Jane beams, one hand coming to cradle Nymphia’s cheek as she smiles. “You’re my wife.”

“This part’s pretty good,” Nymphia stares into Jane, belly burning with butterflies, a love bigger and brighter than she ever thought was possible. “Say it again.”

Jane grins and brings her lips to Nymphia’s, kisses her with a lifetime of devotion. She pulls away, and there’s forever in her eyes. 

“You’re my wife,” Jane smiles. “And I’m yours.”

-

Jane doesn’t travel well.

She puts her packing off until the last possible minute and grumbles all the way to the airport. Nymphia can’t be upset though, because Jane ‘my wife’s’ Nymphia at every possible opportunity - she does it to the disgruntled employee who checks their bags, and the TSA agent who checks their passports, and the barista who makes their coffees while they’re killing time at their terminal. Nymphia rolls her eyes every time, but she’s smiling too, and can’t stop examining the sparkle on her left hand ring finger. 

Jane goes so anxious on the plane that Nymphia has to hold her hand through the takeoff. She doesn’t let go until thirty minutes into the flight, when Jane is finally distracted enough to drop her shoulders and stop thinking about the miniscule possibility that they go plummeting to the ground.

Eventually, they settle in. It’s a long flight, nearly twenty hours, and they shelled out on first class for the occasion. Nymphia’s got the window seat (partly because Jane knows she likes to look out the window, and partly because she can’t stomach seeing the ocean several thousand feet beneath them), and Jane wastes no time getting comfortable. 

(“It’s for my wife,” Jane tells the stewardess when she requests an extra blanket. “She runs cold.” 

Nymphia stares up from her book just long enough to swat Jane’s arm, muttering “that’s not even true.”

“I know,” Jane shrugs. “Just wanted to see what playing the wife card could get me.”

“Careful,” Nymphia warns. “You’re gonna wear it out.”

“What, calling you my wife?” Jane grins. “Baby, that’s never gonna get old.”)

They’re curled up together, alternating between books and movies and laughing at odd little happenings around them. Jane scoffs at shitty jokes on the screen, and Nymphia leans over to read her passages from her book, and Jane hums like she’s listening, but really she’s just admiring Nymphia in her comfy clothes, dark hair pulled back, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. She likes her the best like this.

At the end of her movie, Jane glances over at Nymphia. “Are you excited?”

She thinks she knows what the answer will be, but she’s asking anyway, because she wants it to be perfect - their honeymoon, their first trip together as a married couple, their first foray into the rest of their lives together. They’d debated on a destination for weeks on end. They’d considered a roadtrip across America (too pedestrian - they’ll save that one for another summer), or a week in Vegas where they’d get married again in some cheap chapel (too cliche - they’ll save it for their vow renewals). They’d debated on whether or not to book a room in the most luxurious resort they could find in Thailand, but had settled on a cozy beachside bungalow instead. Jane thought Nymphia would like that the best, knew she would too, because she’d be happy if Nymphia was.

It’s funny how someone can change you so completely and entirely, how they can bring out the best part of you that was waiting to be discovered. Before Nymphia, Jane had always put herself first, even at the expense of others. She was content like that, and then she met Nymphia, and the center of her universe shifted outside of herself. For the first time it wasn’t a chore to care for someone else, and Jane was better because of it. 

“For the honeymoon?” Nymphia asks, folding her book in her lap. She looks down at Jane all nestled in her blankets, hoodie pulled over her blonde hair, and can’t help but smile. 

Nymphia had always been a hopeless romantic, all too eager to hand her heart over to the wrong person. She was a tender thing then, bruising easily in careless hands, burning through her own wells of hope faster than she could replenish them, and after the almost-great-loves of her young adulthood, she felt like she’d been cored. Having her heart handed back to her so unrequitedly time after time, she’d thought she’d been selfish to want a love as big as her own, to expect anyone to be able to return what she gave to them. She’d stopped dreaming of it altogether, and then she’d met Jane. Jane, who reveres her like the Earth reveres the Sun, who worships the ground that she walks on, who straightened out every desire Nymphia had crumpled up inside of herself and gave her more than she could ever dare ask for. 

Now, Nymphia knows she can be selfish. She looks over at Jane and thinks that she wants this for all time - all of Jane, all to herself. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m so excited.” Nymphia reaches over to take Jane’s hand. “Jus’ wanna spend time with you.”

“Good,” Jane smiles, “me too.” She tilts her head up, puckers her lips in a silent request for a kiss, and Nymphia obliges.

-

The plane starts its descent several long hours after they’ve woken up, and Nymphia is grabbing Jane’s hand before she even has to ask, because she knows she hates this part the most. Jane sucks air through her teeth as the last bit of turbulence rocks the plane, and Nymphia rubs her thumb in soothing circles over the back of her hand. As soon as they hit the tarmac, Jane snaps back into place, blocking the whole aisle just to get Nymphia’s carry-on out of the overhead compartment.

“Sorry,” Jane says over her shoulder to a disgruntled passenger. “My wife. She’s pregnant.”

“Jane,” Nymphia hisses through her teeth. “You of all people should know I’m not pregnant.”

“Not yet,” Jane kisses her shoulder before they maneuver down the aisle. “But when I’m through with you…”

Nymphia scoffs, smiling into the air, because she knows it’s impossible, but if anyone’s love could defy the laws of science, it would be theirs.

-

Despite their sleep on the plane, Jane and Nymphia are so impossibly jetlagged, and the car ride to the bungalow is a delirious haze. Determined to push through the rest of the day, they tumble out of their room and onto the tree-lined streets, perusing the local offerings and getting dinner while they speak to each other in exhausted, two-word sentences that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. It’s all they need.

And then they’re out under the sky, wandering in this beautiful place with blue-green water that laps in whispering waves over the sandy beach, and Nymphia has never looked so beautiful to Jane as she does under the moonlight. 

She’s running up the beach, shrieking as the water splashes at her feet, or when Jane chases her up the shore and catches her, spinning her around and pressing crazed kisses against her hairline. Nymphia is laughing, and then her cheeks are wet with tears, and Jane is wiping underneath her eyes.

“Hey,” Jane says, pushing Nymphia’s hair behind her ears, a careful concern crossing her face. “Why tears?”

“I’m just so happy,” Nymphia blubbers, smiling through the silver-wet stars in her eyes, because it’s all been such a beautiful blur, and it hasn’t hit her until right now that this is the rest of her life. “I can’t believe we get to do this forever.”

“God, you’re unbelievable, you know that?” Jane smiles. “Here I was thinking you stepped on a sea urchin. Or you got stung by a jellyfish. And I’d have to pee on your leg or something. Wouldn’t that be a great start to our honeymoon?”

“Shut up,” Nymphia sobs. “You’re ruining the moment!”

“M’sorry, my love,” Jane coos, wiping another tear from Nymphia’s face. “You’re the most sentimental girl alive, you know I can’t keep up with that.”

Nymphia just laughs, because yes, she’s endlessly sentimental, but, secretly, so is Jane. She still remembers the first time she’d opened a card from Jane and was met with pages filled almost entirely with ink, letters squished together to make room for as many as possible, words winding around whatever tacky quote was stamped in the middle. Jane had a way with words, despite whatever she’d tell you otherwise, and never ceased to amaze Nymphia with the sincerity she seemed to save just for her. 

(It crosses Nymphia’s mind then what her favorite part of the wedding really was - when Jane had recited her vows from memory in front of all their family and friends, had taken those impossibly beautiful things that were usually relinquished to their most intimate moments and had loved Nymphia enough to profess it in front of everyone. Not that they didn’t know already. You can’t hide a love as enormous as this one.)

“You keep up just fine,” Nymphia says softly, resting her cheek against Jane’s hand. She swears Jane’s eyes go misty just before she kisses her right there on the sand, beneath the stars, beneath the universe that brought them together.

-

Nymphia smiles when Jane crawls into bed. She’s in a gray crewneck that’s cut across her shoulders, and she’s propped up against fluffy pillows, and Jane is pushing the book out of her hands.

“Dinner was perfect,” Jane kisses her cheek before slipping into bed beside Nymphia. “But is it bad that I just wanted to get back to the room?”

“It’s terrible,” Nymphia turns over, slotting her back against Jane’s chest. “Is this the part where we get old and boring?”

“Yes,” Jane envelops Nymphia in her hold, fits against her in the way they’re going to for the rest of their lives, slides a hand down the length of her torso and up the inside of her thigh. 

“Not even gonna call you a whore or anything,” Jane kisses her ear. One hand cups Nymphia’s breast, the other dips between her legs. “Just gonna fuck you good and tell you how much I love you.”

“So boring,” Nymphia sighs, already melting away.

“So boring.”

(It’s not boring at all.)

-

Now that it’s hit Nymphia, she can’t stop crying every time the sheer enormity of it washes over her.

She’s always been emotional, but sometimes there’s a delay. Her life moves so fast, always swept up in the current of whatever dream she’s chasing, and sometimes it isn’t until she has a second to slow down that she realizes just how special every fleeting moment has been.

It’s been a whole week of being married, of wandering through villages and long hikes up mountain sides and afternoons spent sunning on the shore, of dawns and dinners and keeping a distance from the rest of the world as they know it. Now, Nymphia is sitting in a hammock at the edge of the beach, and she’s looking out over the water, and she’s basking in the overwhelming perfection of this moment. It’s something out of a dream, the sort of thing she’d long thought would be impossible for her to experience, and she can’t help but want to slow it all down, to draw out every precious moment long enough to memorize them, to make them last forever.

She’s sniffling just a bit when Jane finally finds her. She slides into place beside her, knees tucked into her chest, and stares quietly at the last of the sun as it sets over the ocean.

“Beautiful,” Jane murmurs, and it’s about the sunset, but it’s about Nymphia too. She presses a soft kiss to Nymphia’s shoulder.

“I don’t want it to end,” Nymphia sighs, unwilling to look away from the heaven that’s in front of her. They still have another day of this, one more perfect day at the edge of reality, and then they’ll be packing their things, leaving the quiet paradise of their bungalow and flying home. Back to work, back to their crazy, stupid friends, back to the never-ending rush and whirr of the city.

It’s not just that Nymphia doesn’t want the honeymoon to end. She doesn’t want this to end: her and Jane, so head-spinningly in love that nothing else matters, so finely attuned to one another, so freshly devoted to making it last. Nymphia wants so desperately to do it right, for their love to outlive that of either of their parents, for them to see all of their promises through for years to come. The possibility that they can’t pull it off is mind-numbingly terrifying, but the possibility that they can…

It’s an impossible promise to make to one another, and yet they’ve already done it. 

Nymphia sighs, mind swirling, and Jane somehow knows exactly what she means when she says, “what do we do now?”

Jane goes quiet for a moment, staring out over everything she’s ever wanted, and does her best to be brave for Nymphia.

“We sit out here until we’re too tired to keep our eyes open, and then I’ll take you to bed,” Jane says softly. “And then we have one more beautiful day, okay?”

“Okay,” Nymphia says, chewing on her cheek, still unable to look away from the landscape should it all disappear on her. “And then what?”

“And then we go home,” Jane looks over at Nymphia. “We go back to our house. And I’ll take you to work every morning, and then I’ll come home and be pissed about something, probably, and you’ll roll your eyes and tell me to shut up and I will, because I love you and, y’know, I generally think you’re right about everything. And we’ll have our stupid friends over and show them a billion pictures from our trip and kick them out so we can watch Project Runway and fuck. How does that sound?”

Nymphia giggles, and when she finally tears her gaze away from the beach, she realizes there’s another heaven right beside her, one that she gets to take home. And home, their home, the one with the fat cat and the mismatched furniture and their pictures all over the wall, that's another heaven too. Suddenly, the trip being over doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. Nymphia is almost looking forward to it.

“Are you scared?” Jane ventures softly, searching Nymphia’s face carefully. “It’s okay if you are.”

“Only a little,” Nymphia mumbles, voice wavering, eyes watering. 

“I’m a little scared too. We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?” Jane continues, looking a little smaller all of a sudden, pushing through every worry that threatens to override her strong front. “I know we’ll have bad days too, Nymph. I know I’m gonna fuck up and not listen enough and piss you off sometimes, but I love you to fucking pieces. I’m gonna give you the best I’ve got, I promise you.”

Nymphia takes Jane’s hand, and there are silent tears streaming down her face, because it’s only been a week and she already loves Jane more than she did on the day that she married her. It’s enough love to override everything that threatens to pierce through their perfect bubble, enough to fuel the years to come, enough to roll over into the next life and the one after that.

“And if you get sick of me,” Jane teases, squeezing Nymphia’s hand. “Y’know. Just say the word.”

“Shut up. I’ll never get sick of you,” Nymphia cries, throwing her arms around Jane’s shoulders. Jane laughs into her neck, pulls her closer into a bone-crushing embrace. This is the best part - Nymphia married her best friend. It’s enough just to hold her, just to be beside her. All those other parts, the sex and the sweet nothings and the swearing each other to forever, they’re just the luxuries of being in love with her. 

“You promise?” Jane says into Nymphia’s hair. She knows what the answer will be. She just wants to hear it anyway.

“I promise,” Nymphia whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jane says. “With all my heart.”

(They go home two mornings later, back to the city and their couch and their cat, and they aren’t scared anymore, because the warm glow of one another lasts much longer than fleeting sunsets over foreign shores. They wake up together, kiss goodbye on the way to work, hang their wedding photos on the wall and muse over the best day of their lives for years to come. They have lots of good days, and a few bad ones, too. They fight, and then they talk, and they never go to bed angry, just put each other back together in the way that only they can. And then they wake up and love each other more in spite of it.

The honeymoon was great, but here’s the best part: they make it last.)

[inkykeiji]

how would touya nii react to reader calling him a pervert (playfully or not heheh)

okay i love that you added the (playful or not) AHAHA because his reaction definitely differs depending on your tone + the context and situation in which you say it!! 

tw: noncon, pseudocest

if it’s said playfully, giggled out with girlish swats at his shoulder and fluttery glances through thick lashes then he’s laughing with you, low and smooth and with twinkling eyes, murmuring out oh, yeah? pervert, huh? i’m gonna show you just how much of a pervert your niichan can be, between stringy saliva-streaked kisses and scrapes of his teeth along the curve of your neck. 

if it’s said in a serious way, spit with vitriol and sharply narrowed eyes and a screwed up face then he is just as venomous in response, features all puckered as if he’s disgusted you’d even say such a thing, thinly veiling the offence simmering beneath, the hurt. he hurls your words right back at you, says that if he’s a pervert then surely you must be one, too—after all, you do beg your big brother to fuck you so desperately, so pathetically, so goddamn obscenely, and maybe he should film you next time, hm? to show you just how perverted you are for your niichan, yeah? 

he doesn’t let up with it, either—he’s relentless, holding you down with both wrists collected in a single massive palm as he spits out insults—if he’s a pervert, then you’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?—flecks of saliva splattering across your cheeks, his voice lacking any of it’s usual sugared condescension, mean and cruel and so, so sharp. he tells you he’ll give you a demonstration of just how disgusting and depraved you are—you both are—right here, right now, shoving your dress up and your panties down and his cock into you in three swift motions.

only nasty little perverted girls like their big brother defiling them, right? only deviant little girls beg their big brother to fill them up with cum, don’t they? you’re just as fucked up as he is, baby, don’t you forget it.

[stealingpotatoes]

Hi I love you and I'm obsessed with your art but calling your family motes and brotes is THE most cursed thing I've seen today. Thank you, 0/10, I hated it,

what else am i supposed to call them!! theyre the mother and brother of potes!! ∴ they're motes and brotes!!

[tickle-bugs]

Stupid in Love

Summary: Nick Miller is completely, 100% normal about all things Jessica Day. Including her smile, her laugh--ah, fuck. He's doomed. NickJess ft. pining!Nick

Anon: I just saw you write for New Girl! I am in my yearly rewatch of the show so I am so happy you write for it! Maybe the loft gang and CeCe can be playing a game of true American and somehow during the game it comes out that Jess is incredibly ticklish. Everyone is too focused on the game to use it to their advantage at the moment, but nick remembers and maybe later when him and Jess are together, he decided to test his new found knowledge and see just how ticklish Jess really is.

While this isn’t set during a particular episode, I was thinking HEAVILY about s2 ep15, Cooler. One of the greatest episodes of the whole show, hands down. I just wanted to write pining Nick tbh.

True American is the best goddamn game ever invented. It defines a man at his core level. Everything that’s ever mattered to Nick is on the line in this game. His dignity, his pride, his dignity…

He honestly can’t remember what they’re playing for. Something involving the sink. Or a drink? Unclear, but irrelevant. Nick is the king of an aluminum can palace and his citizens will thrive under his leadership. This is his birthright. 

They’re playing True American: Catan Edition tonight. Each player defends their own small nations and attempts to crush the others, throwing their leaders to the molten lava below. It’s the smartest thing Winston’s ever come up with. 

“Duel for my amusement,” Nick slurs, waving his paper towel roll scepter around. The cardboard crown on his head slips down over his eyes. Cece blows a raspberry at him. He lobs a balled-up piece of paper at her. 

Jess plays a fanfare into her backup kazoo—Schmidt threw away her main one—and draws angry eyebrows onto the smiley face of her country’s flag. A declaration of war. 

Sober Jess is all for political progress and human rights, but Drunk Jess? Maniacal, power-hungry, and so very hot.

Focus, Miller. 

“Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate?” Jess climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and puts a colander on her head. A warrior’s helm. Nick smiles at her. 

In their corner of the living room, Winston and Schmidt whisper furiously. At some point in the last hour, Winston had ascended to Grand Advisor of Schmidt’s Creek. Schmidt had lost the ability to speak after can number two, when Cece had flirted him out of all of his natural resources and a third of his land. Nick had been trying to think of how to poach Winston to Nicklandia, but he couldn’t think of a plan that didn’t involve saying ‘please’ until he passed out. 

“Schmidt’s Creek will not challenge today!” Winston crushes his beer can against Schmidt’s forehead. Schmidt doesn’t even blink.

“Ruth Gader Binsburg! I challenge your weird little colony, Jess,” Cece shouts, messily hopping onto the chair next to Jess. They start some combination of swatting at each other and clutching on for dear life. Schmidt looks up at Cece like a drunk, lovesick puppy. Nick rolls his eyes.

Thank god he doesn’t look like that.

Does he look like that?

Shit. He’s missing the game. 

“Yeah? Guess what—” Jess knocks her knuckles against the colander helmet, winces, and then points at Cece— “I’m the Queen of England, bitch.” 

Nick’s not sure what’s elapsed in the apparently three years since he was last paying attention, but he knows by the way that Cece gasps that someone’s dying on the living room and/or kitchen floor tonight. Jess cackles and puts her hands on her hips. They start yelling, but even if they’re saying real human words, which he’s pretty sure they’re not, he’s not processing it. Jess looks so stupid in that little holey hat—someone should invent a word for that thing—and she’s adorable. 

Nick leans his cheek on his palm and smiles wider. Does she know her nose scrunches when she’s annoyed? 

Nick leans a little too far and loses his balance. Half of his aluminum fortress tumbles down. When he looks back up, Jess and Cece haven’t budged. Or blinked. Cece squints at Jess and it’s clear the conversation has ascended to psychic levels that even Drunk Nick can’t access. He tries though. Mostly gives himself a headache. 

Something in their eye conversation must shift, because Cece gets this look on her face. Like pure, concentrated mischief. The aura off of her is so powerful that everyone scoots back a bit. Cece starts stretching and cracking her knuckles. 

“Waitwaitwait, Cece, you don’t have to do this.” Jess holds her hands up in immediate surrender, but she’s smiling hard enough to brighten the room. A little nervous giggle picks up in the back of her throat and she starts to turn pinker than the boxed rosé that forms her section of the living room. 

“Oh, but I do. Surrender. Now.” Cece points to the floor. Which is lava. Cruel way to go. 

Jess looks at her best friend with the kind of profound resignation only possible when piss drunk. She sighs deeply, staring at the floor…

And then launches herself at Cece with a war cry. 

Cece doesn’t even flinch. She catches Jess, smirks, and starts tickling her sides with vicious precision. Jess lets out a giggly shriek and crumples, sinking right down into the lava. The colander tumbles off of her head and rolls into Nick’s fortress. 

The sound worms itself into Nick’s brain, taking up residence alongside all the other little Jess things that drive him nuts. It distracts him hard enough that by the time Winston arises as Supreme Leader of the Loft, Nick can’t even trace the path of his defeat. 

………

Even when sobriety beats them over the head the next morning, Nick can remember nothing but the sweet music of Jess’s laugh. And the shape of her smile. 

God he’s hopeless. 

The slow march of the week brings some relief in the sense that a) Nick remembers that he really doesn’t do the whole ‘feelings’ thing and b) alcohol makes anyone look like an angel walking the earth. He is a grown ass man and Jess is an annoying little craft goblin. He can be normal. She’s normal. No need to get worked up over her.

“You look like Mr. Rogers’s grumpy cousin.” Jess snickers, fiddling with the sleeve of Nick’s hideous cardigan. 

“You done? You finished?” He pulls his sleeve away from her. It’s really Schmidt’s, which she very well knows. Nick’s only wearing it because Schmidt’s being weird about Cece again, and the only way to survive that is to bend to his will. Schmidt’s already dehydrated himself twice this week trying to show off his muscles more, Nick doesn’t want to add to that by making the guy cry. He’d never stop.

Jess, however, doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of this manly sacrifice. She’s too busy laughing at him. 

“Mmmm, no, I don’t think I am. You look like a Muppet.” She pinches his cheek. He rolls his eyes. 

“Well, that’s just a compliment.” 

“No, no. You look like the bird. The bird with the eyebrows—“ Jess pauses as her giggles overtake her— “You look like Sam the Eagle.” 

Jess folds over into his shoulder with laughter and smacks his chest. The warmth of it almost distracts him from the comment. 

Almost. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, Jess. C’mere—“ He drags her across the couch by the ankle and latches onto her sides. She makes that adorable sound again, that giggly shriek, and flails like a worm on a hook. She tries to push his face away. He swats her hands aside like it’s nothing. When reaches for him again—futile, really—he snatches her wrists in one hand, pins them down, and tickles with the other. 

Her whole face burns. He chooses to ignore it for both of their sakes. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to apologize. Take your time.” He does a little pinchy thing with his fingers and Jess lets out a high-pitched mess of syllables. She throws her head back and cackles, arching up into him. 

“Hmm, yeah, see none of that sounded like ‘You’re the best, Nick Miller’. Try again.” He pokes all over her torso, fast and wild. He lets go of her and adds his other hand into the mix. Every time she tries to talk, he speeds up, making her laugh at his silliness along with his hands. She kicks her legs and lets out a little giggly growl. Nick smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. 

“Nick!” She grabs his wrists but doesn’t stop him. His stomach flips. She’s so overwhelming. 

“That’s my name.” He skitters his fingers up her ribs to distract himself from the lump in his throat. 

Jess flails and nearly takes them both off the couch and into the next life. Nick catches himself before he collapses on top of her, but it puts their faces mere inches apart. The space of a breath. He can see the faint freckles across her nose, all brought forth by the pink flush down her cheeks and neck. As she catches her breath, lips parted, her laughter simmers low in her chest. He brushes her hair out of her face. His hand lingers on her cheek. 

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. Does she know that? 

Nick gets the deep, burning urge to kiss her senseless. To download all these embarrassing, vulnerable thoughts from his brain to hers. To show her how deep this goes. To drink of her like the wine at restaurants he can never afford. 

No. Not like this. She deserves better than this.

Than him.

He starts to pull away, awkwardly clearing his throat. Jess surges forward and Nick’s stupid little monkey brain gleefully claps its hands together, shouting this is it! It’s happening! Nick’s brain activity screeches to a halt. He stares at her mouth and freezes. 

Jess flips them over and starts tickling his ears like some kind of insane supervillain. 

“No! Jessica!” He turtles and attempts to fling himself to safety. All he accomplishes is hanging off the back of the couch, leaving his knees in reach of Jess’s evil nails—

One day he will be smart about Jessica Day, but he concedes that it won’t be today. But as she destroys him and Schmidt’s stupid, hopefully inexpensive cardigan, he secretly hopes the day never arrives. 

[skrungly]

Sunflowers symbolize loyalty and adoration.

No matter where you are, sunflowers are a positive flower that brings joy to many !!

[ofmoonsandlight]

Here with a sketch request! No pressure at all though

Would love to see your take on Ren, whether it’s your own personal headcanons or just in your style :)

(bonus points if he’s waving a South African flag <- totally not biased, and again /nf at all :D)

Ren diggity dog

[angeart]

You say share AUs with you like that wouldn't be slightly intimidating xD

But :x AU where the Watchers steal Grian's voice (dunno why, haven't gotten that far), no talking no laughter no sound at all, and Grian acts like it's fine. It is! They have communicators! He can still talk to the hermits while X and Doc try and figure it out! Honestly he's close enough with some that facial expressions and gestures are enough to have a whole conversation sometimes. And bonus, he doesn't have to hold back his giggles when setting up a prank, Scar literally can't hear him laughing as he's tunneling under the base. .... but being in big groups is hard, he can't quip like he used to, by the time he's got a line halfway typed out the conversation moved on and the joke dies on his keyboard. (No hermit is excluding him on purpose!! Just, that's how talking flows and typing can't always keep up!) Can't hear him laugh but... can't hear him cry either.

I have nothing written, I haven't written in a loooong time, this just lives in my head. :x

-🎀

noo don't be intimidated. i'm harmless. i'm just a silly dummy. i love talking about aus and things. c'mere and share freely as much as you want! <3

OHHH mute grian! it's interesting that it also translates to any other noises. he can't cry! he can't laugh! (gathering this angst lovingly in my arms)

he can sob and nobody will hear it. he can hide and nobody will be any wiser. he— you know, he can't call for help, or call attention to himself, or even greet his friends. he can't call out scar's name, he can't say hi or bye to anyone. he needs eyes on him, or time to type and people's attention on the chat, and he doesn't always get those things.

(scar in particular forgets to check the chat, even when he's with grian. he sees him type, he just. he's a bit silly.) (grian has to make signs and meticulously place them and type on them to get scar to see any of his words, and even that has only like 50% chance of success.)

(he misses talking to scar.)

imagine cub gives him a bunch of custom horns. he means well. he tried to make some useful ones. but none of them feel like grian, or match quite what he wants to say.

his steps are still audible, but if he can't say a person's name or a greeting, he keeps accidentally sneaking up on people. he doesn't know how to alert them without it being absolutely ridiculous. they startle. mumbo especially lets out a loose comment directly after a scare, about how grian can't do that.

he doesn't mean it like that.

but maybe grian starts approaching hermits less.

[6okuto]

Do you still draw from time to time? Do you have anything to show,,,, 🫣😭🙏

?!?! just said wow out loud. i never expected to be asked this... i've been drawing but it's been a lot of self-ship art to be honest 😭!! i was supposed to make my self-ship posts but i keep getting lazy bdhsjdsjd

yeagh.... gave up on atsumu fast. it was gonna be bokuto but things happened i guess...

[jacarandaaaas]

Madrigal triplet headcanons? (:

ooh yay another one I don’t get often!!

bruno’s biggest confidants are his sisters!

pepa married first!! and they had bets on who would be the first to be married!

bruno would always say stuff like “get a room!!” when the couples do pda!

I’ve seen people say the sisters are similar to the triplets in dynamics I’ve always seen it as julieta= luisa, the reliable one always working passive! pepa= mirabel, always messes up, tries to hide negative emotions to not bring down everyone else’s mood, feels like a burden. Bruno = isabela, expectations! gift was seen as something adored (at first) only good visions!= only roses! feels limited by their gift

random one but I feel like they would enjoy coffee mornings!

bruno is very blunt! he doesn’t even realize how he sounds sometimes and pepas like ?????

when bruno gets out of the walls his sisters come with him to reintroduce to the townspeople!

I feel post movie bruno would do things like help julieta in the kitchen or accompany pepa to the town! small ways to get closer

julieta was quite sly when younger! pepa and Bruno were more impulsive

bruno was always dramatic😭 him and pepa would clash a lot but julieta would never take sides!