#these two.........

[dargonpoop]

everyone knows xingqiu owns these kinds of books but only chongyun knows what theyre about

based off that one voice line:

[essence-flux-primed]

"Have i told you in the past ten minutes how handsome you are?"

⋆ — “Maybe.” His grin is sharp, satisfied, and his eyes are sultry, sprawled on his stomach on the sheets next to her, chin propped up on his palm. When he speaks, it’s in a voice a few notes lower than he normally uses. “But you can tell me again. I don’t mind.” And with that he leans down, kisses the hollow of her throat first, then her chin, finally letting his mouth linger on hers. “I don’t remember ... have I told you how drop-dead gorgeous you are? How stunning?”

     Offering her another lazy grin, Ezreal lets his fingertips graze up Maggy’s arm, finally settling down and resting his head on her shoulder, the picture of contentment. “And a fantastic conversationalist, too.” 

[wonderlilane]

for your consideration

[fancoria]

"So no one asked you out and you're pouting? There there, Mydeimos, I can call you mine if it'll make you feel included." Sticks his tongue out and winks.

@flamesprisoner - unprompted / valentine's day

"Deliverer. It's not about my pride, it's about language." He tried not to fall into the frenzy that Phainon was giving him. However… his next words intrigued him. He smiled mockingly and contemptuously. "Am I supposed to be yours? Deliverer, know your place. You'll be mine whether you like it or not." He moved closer to him, forcing Phainon's back against the wall. "If you want to include me so badly, then go ahead."

[teamsuki]

breakable heaven update.... what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

[synthmama]

wraps her arms around quinn, nestles her nose into the crook of her neck

1:39 AM.

It’s supposed to be a moment of leave. A break in between their own assignments, perfectly aligned -- Quinn still isn’t sure if it was pure coincidence, or if they had been by design. That thought is pushed to the backburners, though, as she remains curled up in one of the pleather hotel chairs; an elbow propping her up on the desk as she reads over some of the data pulls nabbed for her next assignment. The glasses she wears are balanced loosely on the slope of her nose. 

1:42 AM. 

The lights turn on. Angela is always a quiet woman, with measured words, and measured steps. In another life, Quinn wouldn’t even notice --- not the shift of the coverlets or the small yawn. Not the brief flash of light as she checks her phone. Not the soft creak of the floor beneath her feet as she rises up. No, Quinn hears it all, and anticipates the next steps. Sleeplessness is a shared trait. 

What she doesn’t expect is the weight of Angela’s arms curling around her. She leans down, blonde hair spilling loosely from a disheveled bun. Her breath fans against the slope of her neck in warm puffs. Quinn can feel that. Can also feel herself winding fingers through the other woman’s hair. Tilting to rest her forehead against Angela’s, tired, before sighing.

1:44 AM.

“Come to bed, Quinn,” Angela murmurs. The seconds tick, slowly. Outside, she can just barely make out the low and rhythmic hum of cars passing along the skyway. 

The glasses come off. Angela gently pulls -- more prompting than forcing.

“Okay,” Quinn says softly. This time -- just this once -- she’ll relent. “Okay.” 

[yotiechaan-blog]

dumb & dumber