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#lucky j
rainbow-duckies · 5 months
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I was obsessed with this song for the past few weeks lmao
The fact that it's blocked on Spotify is a crime
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the-darkestminds · 5 days
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For everyone who acts like Lucien is all soft and docile…need I remind you that in book one, when he thought Rhys was evil and might kill him with half a thought, he STILL talked back, called him a whore, SPAT at him, and threatened him with a sword. My man is so feisty.
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jesteringbug · 1 month
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Ignihyde uniform redesign :3
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eeveekitti · 28 days
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day 26: create spears
i don't think that's how that works, enot
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ceruleancattail · 5 months
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Beauty
Rook Hunt x Reader
Slender fingers trail down your back, leaving a fleeting sensation of warmth melting deep into you. Callouses line his palm, skin hardened to the curves of a wooden bow, rough against your skin. Yet he was ever so gentle with you, every touch overflowing with tenderness.
Rook was always careful, especially when it came to you. Every single movement you make, every single breath you take, he’ll never miss a single moment. Even the slightest slump of your shoulders doesn’t escape those emerald eyes.
A finger pokes into the small of your back, jabbing at your spine playfully. Wincing, you straighten your back once more, smiling sheepishly at your ever-so-attentive hunter. Chuckling, Rook’s hands rubs at the offended area apologetically, thumb moving in slow, soothing circles.
His hand was warm. Like the first rays of the morning sun, gradually creeping over everything that lay upon this world. Engulfing it in a soft golden halo, illuminating the beauty concealed within every single object.
Almost like Rook’s skilful hands, artfully arranging your assemble for the day. You asked Rook to help you pick out an outfit for today offhandedly. You never thought he’ll actually do it.
Well, until he appeared at your door. Rook’s face was flushed ever so slightly, a pale pink dancing over the curve of his cheeks. He beamed at you, greeting you with a certain pep in his words, beaming from ear to ear.
The pursuit of beauty was Rook’s main goal, and who was he to refuse another noble soul, embarking on the same quest as he? He had steered you onto your room, chirping away like a little bird. Don’t you fear, la mignonne. He’s sure to find an outfit that fits you perfectly.
Rushing around the room, he passes you outfit after outfit, eagerly waiting for you to try them on. With particularly difficult ones, his hands are deftly dancing across the cloth, coaxing it onto you gently.
There was a certain determination burning deep within his pupils, the same kind of razor-sharp focus you’ve seen when Rook drew his bow, arrow pointing straight at his target. If you gazed at him for too long, those passionate flames of his might just burn you alive, devouring you whole.
Carefully, you reach for Rook’s hand. Fingers moving ever so slowly, sliding in between his. Palm pressing against palm, fingers intertwined. You held his hand silently, heartbeat pulsing wildly against his.
Rook freezes for a split second, before he tightens his grip, giving you an affectionate little squeeze. With one swift movement, he has the back of your hand face-up, guiding it upwards. Close enough for you to feel his breath, wafting against your knuckles.
The ghost of a smirk dances across Rook’s lips, before the plush of his lips press against your skin. The softness of his kiss ingraining itself into your very skin, the warmth melting into your very hand. That gentle warmth spread like wildfire across your body, heating up both of your cheeks.
A scarlet red.
The colour of roses, the flower of love.
The colour of passion, burning within a soul.
The colour of his lips, pressed into the back of your hand.
You reached for Rook, gently cupping his cheek with the palm of your hand. Coaxing his head upwards, guiding the gaze of those enchanting emerald irises towards you. He leans into your touch, nuzzling every so slightly. Gazing at you ever so lovingly, ever so sweetly-
Yet there was a spark of mischief, dancing merrily within his eyes. Despite yourself, you chuckled to yourself silently. It wouldn’t be Rook without that sort of cunning, would it?
He tilts his head ever so slightly, a small smile spreading across his lips.
“What does ma beauté require from me?”
“Your heart, my dear hunter.”
Rook blinks in surprise, before he laughed. A joyous sound, echoing through the air. It went straight into your heart, nestling itself in each and every one of your heartstrings.
“Then it you shall have, along with every single part of me, darling.”
His fingers press into your chin, tilting it upwards ever so slightly. The ghost of his breath wafting ever so tantalisingly over your lips, just waiting for both of you to close the gap-
“Now, wouldn’t you surrender yourself to me, mi amour?”
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happy mickey mouse public domain day yipeeeeee <3
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oops1ateyourkids · 1 month
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Jason Schwartzman photos for those who also love him
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undead-maggot · 9 months
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Wall 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊🔊
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Im trying to improve my style and the way I draw wally! I really like how it turned out!! ^^
Hes so babygirl I swear 👀 such a kissable man istg /j
Also, have this silly little doodle about them!! 🐛
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Original drawing
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enternalnightdragons · 4 months
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Cartoons characters
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138-divided-by-2 · 4 months
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mywaywardcupcake · 3 months
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Think Duelist Kingdom was talked about the same way Fyre Festival was?
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the-darkestminds · 2 months
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The sadness Lucien feels every time Elain ignores him or brushes him off or shrinks away from him 😔
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vaaniebean · 7 months
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Some rough sketches of a thing I'm working on Gonna upload more sketches later ^_^
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ceruleancattail · 1 year
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Would you write a fluff Jamil Viper request where Jamil’s feelings for the reader/Ramshackle prefect come to light when he stops Floyd from squeezing her when she visits them at basketball practice?
Would I? Would I????
There’s always time for Jamil- and this idea is soooo cute!!!! I had so much fun writing for this ask! Thank you~
Confessions
Jamil viper x reader
The soundtrack of the basketball club is comforting, at least to Jamil.
Squeaks screech through the court as feet shuffle. The rapid beat of the ball dribbling, ricocheting off the floor. Shouted commands, with the occasional swears flying through the air.
Your voice ringing clear through the air, cheering on whoever has the ball. The way you whoop when someone scores. The crinkle of plastic from the water bottles you toss at them whenever anyone comes for a break.
It’s nice.
“Yo, Viper! Catch!”
A towel is hurled into his face, only stopped by his hand. Lowering it down, he gives you a nod of appreciation. It’s hard not to notice how you beam.
You shoot him a little wink, and he has to stuff his head into the towel to hide the way his lips slip upwards. Jamil scrubs at his face until it’s burning, rubbed a raw red. The pain nibbles at his cheeks, stinging them.
It helps keep his face straight anyhow.
You slide next to him, shoving him aside with your shoulder. Leaning onto him,your skin pressing against his. He can feel your arms shaking from laughter, your pulse beating. Great seven, Jamil’s close enough to smell your shampoo.
You get up quickly enough to clown around with the others, but your scent lingers. It’s nice. Fingers tapping on his knee, he watches you interact with the others.
You bend over, clutching your stomach. Ace must have made a pretty good joke, because you were almost besides yourself with laughter. Doubled over, eyes blinded with tears. You hardly were aware of a certain hulking figure creeping up behind you.
Floyd could move in perfect silence when he wanted to. A predatory instinct, ingrained in his blood. His arms spread out, he moves step by step, carefully sizing you up.
Jamil’s been through enough team practises to know what happens next. Floyd grabs his poor naive victims, before spinning them around like a Carrousel gone off its axis. The hellish ride ends with being flung into the air. Said victims tend to throw up after the Floyd treatment.
Almost everyone in the club has had a taste of this treatment.
Guess today’s your turn.
Jamil watches you wipe tears out of your eyes, still chatting merrily with Ace. Ace catches Jamil’s eye, before he gives a little crafty smirk. Ace takes hold of your hands, talking just a little louder.
Keeping your attention on him, so Floyd had a clear shot.
That jackass.
Jamil didn’t really think about it. His body started moving on his own, sprinting towards you.Elbowing Floyd out of the way, Jamil takes you into his arms, shielding you with his body. Holding you close,his chest heaving up and down. Whipping around, he gives both Floyd and Ace a glare, staring daggers at them.
“Don’t you dare touch them. They’re mine.”
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dontyoulistentome · 8 months
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Everyone talking about 'I slithered here from Eden'
But what about 'A rope in hand, for your other man, to hang from a tree'
Does Crowley know about the "discreete gentlemans's clubs" Aziraphale used to frequent, back in the day?
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callmevenus · 1 year
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