#lvllns

[lavampira]

when you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish! then, send this ask to 10 of your followers :3c

ty reed!! sorry I hoarded this for a bit BUT this is so fun <:

sage - onlyoneof

too sweet - hozier

hush - the marías

caraphernelia - pierce the veil

big boy - durry

[sollucets]

8 and/or 22 for the micro prompts!!

from this list, sunbathing + nap. it's been a while since i've written something about characters waking up /s /s /s /s so thank u very much for the prompt!! i am returning to my roots here. please note that this implies Activities but would still be t rated

💜

"Sam," they murmur, lips brushing the skin of his collarbone as they speak. "Sam."

He's a light sleeper; most Vamps are, since they don't need it the way others do. It's barely a second before he's moving under them, his breath catching as he comes back to awareness and his arm tightening reflexively where it's secured around their waist. "Darlin'?"

"It's okay," they tell him, quiet voice rasping after the workout they'd given it before their nap. "Nothing's wrong. We just gotta move."

They watch him carefully as he wakes. This isn't so familiar yet that they can miss it, that they can look away from these moments they've been allowed into. In the near-dark, they can just barely see what a human wouldn't. He checks his surroundings, gaze passing over their bare back and the couch and finally up to the reason they'd disturbed him: the light through the window, threatening to brighten.

"And what if I wanted to sunbathe, huh?" he asks, voice wry.

At his house, the windows are few and all fitted with blackout curtains, but this is their shitty little apartment and their ratty, bloodstained couch (again, he'd come back, somehow), and it's going to be sunrise soon. Their head had been too fuzzy and content and warm to think of it just after, senses full of his hands steady on their waist and his voice low and rumbling, and they'd drifted off. For once, they're grateful for their inability to sleep a full night.

"You're welcome to get crispy if that's what you really want," they say, shifting off him with a groan and watching with quiet delight as his eyes snap to follow their movements.

Sam hums, sitting up after them and letting them take both his hands to tug him to a standing position. They both know he doesn't need it, but they like his hands, and he follows after them like that towards the bedroom, where they intend to hang a comforter over the single window and shut out the impending morning. Just before they enter the room, he adds, simply, "I know what I really want."

There's nothing for it after that but to pull him onto the bed in a tangled pile of sleep-warm skin and kiss him until they can't breathe, until the very last second before the sun rises and they have to scramble, laughing, to hide from the light again.

[solasan]

omg mollie pls can u share some of “u will kiss n u will LIKE it” 🥺

WIP GAME

anything for u reed <333 this is set on the night after they defeat the mother and they DONT actually kiss but it's the first time either of them feels even an inkling of romantic attraction, so :shrug:

“You disapprove of fun now, do you?”

Cousland shrugs. “It has its moments, I suppose. If you’re of such a temperament.”

“Which you are not.”

“No. As you well know.”

“Yes,” he concedes, for of all his companions, it is somehow his father’s killer that he knows best. “I suppose I do.”

She levels him with an inscrutable look. Her brows furrow, that firm and familiar line forming betwixt them, and the strangest and most inexplicable of urges rises within him. He finds he must consciously clench his fingers into a fist so that he cannot trace it with them. 

Perhaps Cousland senses his conflict, or perhaps she is simply done with her inspection; either way, she pulls a sheaf of papers loose from the chaos of her desk and begins to write anew.

“You did not come here to pass conversation on my social habits.”

“Didn’t I?” Nathaniel poses absently, still puzzling over the impulse.

Her answering look — exasperation filtered through thick, wispy lashes — knocks a chuckle loose from the hinged trap his chest has become. She looks as startled as he feels by this development, but he thinks— he thinks he sees her smile some, before she returns to penning the letter before her.

“Well,” he allows with a shrug more casual than he feels. “Maybe you’re not the only one that struggles with merrymaking, these days.”

The scratching of her quill pauses. “I’m sorry.”

She is not sorry; she feels no more guilt over the murder of his father now than she did two moons ago. He knows this and still— somehow, he cannot fault her for it now as he did. Somehow, he cannot be certain he would, either.

There is a tense moment wherein they sit there, stewing in this shared knowledge, and a fight waits with baited breath to break out. A month ago, two— he might have snapped. She might have hit him. 

Now he, surrendering, offers her his wine. She, accepting, takes it.

[witchofthewild]

theoooo!! happy birthday!!!! 🥳🎈

Thank you Reed 🥰💕!!

[pinkfey-archive]

please…….please tell me about “thea/august what will they do !” 🥺

oh gosh i feel like i'm baiting everyone rn :pensive: it is not a beloved august willenheim fic but an august jasminemontliyetsoc fic :((( i am sorry for catfishing but alas here is the snippet anyways:

“I kept wondering why Walter recommended you,” she said, “but I get it now.” 

She gingerly stepped forward. She reached out and put her hand to his chest, and he went rigid, his heartbeat drumming against his ribs. He was certain she could feel it. She let out a light laugh, her breath visible in the chilly air, then nodded. “This is why.”

August counted the heartbeats. Seventeen.

“Do you ever feel…” she whispered, “like your heart is on fire?”

[anoramactir]

ooooo what’s east of the sun, west of the moon *chin hands*

it's a fire emblem three houses fic! about an immortal byleth who originally married dimitri, and how she falls in love with seteth a few centuries after her husband dies

[kirnet]

candles for the micro story prompts!

Halin almost curled up and fell asleep on her doormat when her key didn't slide into the lock on the first try.

She was used to coming home at odd hours, when she even got to come home at all, but tonight weighed on her like a pair of mag boots. Being the resident braincell in a crime syndicate (and the niece of one of its leading members) certainly had its privileges, but it was nights like this, lit up so brightly by the street lamps and electronic billboards that smothered the surrounding stars, that made Halin reflect on her career. The Don had practically held her hostage as she analyzed every possible entrance and outcome for the heist he had ordered, and she was only allowed to trudge home after her contingency plans had contingency plans. In a week’s time her and Millie would be thrown into the fray, though if Halin's plans panned out, her partner wouldn't have to exchange any bullets.

She tried the key again, and this time managed to open the door with only mild profanity.

Halin didn't bother trying to keep the door quiet as it slammed behind her. If her neighbors had a problem, they were probably smart enough not to bring it up to her. She didn't bother fumbling for the light switch as she leaned against the couch arm. The work shoes took some handling to get off, but somehow her tired fingers managed. She lowered them to their tidy place on the shoe rack but stopped them an inch above.

Her pair of slippers was knocked sideways, as if somebody had kicked the shoe rack.

The shoes made no sound as she set them down, and the gun made no sound as she unclipped it from her side. Halin inched forward, gun ready as she canvased the room. She may be an asset for the syndicate, but there are other vultures vying for her spot. Her fingers inched along the wall towards the light switch.

"I swear to God, kid, if you shoot me, I'll haunt your ass."

Halin flipped on the switch as she shoved the gun back into its holster with a groan. Uncle Khine sat on one of her mismatched bar stools, with something resembling a pack of cigs in his hand.

"That would imply that she can hit you," Millie piped up from beside him, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "She's a lousy shot."

"Just because I'm not the best shot in this star system doesn't mean I'm useless." Halin could hit the target. Occasionally. It was a work in progress. "The fuck are you freaks doing in my apartment in the dark?" She shambled forward to the counter. "And take your shoes off, you animal."

Millie stuck her tongue out, but started untying her boots. "Your loyal compatriots wait for hours to surprise you on your birthday, and this is the thanks we get?" Her heavy shoes thudded against the ground. "Maybe we should leave, Khine."

He was already pressing Halin into a quick hug as he passed her. "Nonsense!" The mirth in his voice matched Millie's. Halin watched in shock as he mosied over to her understocked fridge.

Birthday. She had forgotten, though it didn't surprise her that Khine remembered. How old was she again?

Millie's hand pressed under her chin. "Close your mouth," her friend teased. "You'll catch flies."

Halin stole Khine's seat as he emerged from the fridge. The cake in his hands wasn't impressive: it was small, and judging by the Khine-sized thumbprint on the side of the icing, homemade, but Halin's heart swelled as she caught sight of it.

"Bastard insisted on helping me bake it," Millie whispered loudly, as if she could read her partner's mind. "Should taste great. I wouldn't know, though. Somebody ate all the scraps."

"It's perfect." The words tumbled from Halin's lips before she could think. Khine set the pitiful thing down with a smile, and now that she could see it upclose it was definitely leaning to one side. Khine had the box in his hand again and started removing candles one by one. Millie snatched one from his hand and proudly stuck it off-center into the cake. "Thanks, guys." Halin hadn't had a proper birthday since she joined the Riders at 14, face filled with acne and head full with new responsibility. She couldn't help but feel like a kid again as Millie lit the candles with her half-dead lighter.

"Of course, kid." Khine's wrinkled hand pushed the magnificent cake with an incorrect number of candles towards her. "That's what family is for."

[impossible-rat-babies]

♫ for rabbit and a ♫ for rabbit and bautista 🥺

♫ + monsters. hurricane bells. for rabbit

the monsters are buried down deep inside you never know when they're satisfied buried down deep where the sun don't shine the monsters are buried down deep inside but

it’s the vibes + the whole monstrous vibe going on. but mostly it’s the vibes and i will stand by the amount of twilight soundtrack i’ve put on rabbit’s playlist

♫ + wasteland baby. hozier. for rabbit + bautista

lately of my wasteland, baby be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking though quaking, though crazy that's just wasteland, baby

once again, it’s the hozier vibes. also the vibes are on point for their pining, messy sort of relationship at this point

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send a ♫ + an oc or pairing for a song!