#IS IT MY BIRTHDAY OR SOMETHING??

[supercutofbuck]

AUDRA MCDONALD AS ROSE IN GYPSY ‼️

[honehonn3honey]

Birthday boy 🎂

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A sketchy digital illustration of Keyleth from Critical Role. She is facing forwards and looking at the viewer with a determined expression. She is wearing her outfit from the official Vox Machina art for Campaign 3. End description.]

Quick Kiki doodle!!

[canisalbus]

[soapyakships]

HAPPY MIZUKI DAY

[whateveriwant]

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when he comes home to find the new pooch you rescued, he says the reason he allows her to stay is because your puppy eyes softened him up (...sure).

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but less than a week into having the dog, he’s already letting her sleep on your bed because he thinks the one you bought her looks “too lumpy”.

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when a clap of thunder scares the poor girl, he’s cuddled up right beside her on the couch, comforting her until the storm passes.

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when you find the skull-themed bandana amongst his purchases from the pet store, he claims to have zero knowledge about how that wound up in there.

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but after he upgrades to a newer phone, the first pictures he takes are of your pup whilst she’s having a nap.

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but to celebrate her birthday, he throws her a full-blown party – complete with decorations, presents, and a homemade cake (for your birthday, he just got you a card).

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when he thinks you’re not looking, he sneaks her little bites of food from his own plate.

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when he accidentally steps on one of her paws, he sits there for 20 minutes apologizing profusely to her.

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but every time he calls home when he’s deployed, one of the first questions out of his mouth is, “How’s m– the dog doin’?”

He’s Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but when she finally learns the trick he’s been trying to teach her for weeks, you swear you almost see him cry.

He was Simon “I Don’t Want a Dog” Riley, but the moment that little four-legged girl wiggled her way into his life, he knew he was a goner.

[spiderziege]

once upon a time, there was a player

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

anyone else have multiple traumatic memories associated specifically with holidays/family vacations? because that is a topic I never see discussed in all the So You Had A Shitty Childhood, Now What? self-help books i've been reading. but for me, it was a significant thing. and the more i think about it the more it seems like this would be an (unfortunately) common experience. would be grateful to hear if this matches other peoples' experiences...

[zephyrchama]

OM! Angels seem to have similar natural abilities to demons. Even if the source of their power is different, they're still far above humans in terms of innate abilities.

Basically, MC could be frolicking in a field and playing around with Luke outdoors when he approaches with a handmade flower crown. Freshly picked. Luke himself is wearing a prototype crown of the same variety.

Luke innocently places the gift on MC's head. Within minutes the unsuspecting human breaks out in massive itchy hives. They both panic, Luke reacts by flinging the crown out towards a random part of the field and blowing on MC's head to make the hives stop. Turns out those pretty flowers are toxic to most mortal beings! Who knew!

MC can still keep the crown behind glass and admire it. Luke may feel incredibly guilty though. From then on, he refuses to give MC anything new unless it passes Solomon's safety check first.

[hanfocus]

HAPPY HAN DAY 🐿️ September 14, 2000 / insp.

[ollieartie]

You partied too late again. Time to sleep, birthday boy.

[ba0shanblack]

Joong said Hwa is: “Quieter than anyone else, but when he spreads his wings he is more gorgeous than anyone, like a peacock”

Hwa said “maybe these are the words I needed to hear the most” and that it hit more coming from Hongjoong ❤️‍🩹❤️

[itsthislake]

“The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver.

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY ACE!!

Support me on ko-fi! ♥

[cozylittleartblog]

cringe is dead because rouxls is carrying the weight of it all madoka style

[hinata-boke]

monkey dunkey lunkey

[elusivedew]

golden.

✧ synopsis ⤐ spencer is gentle, even in the darkest hours of the night.

✧ contains ⤐ several references to sex, this is all about aftercare. post-prison spence except I haven't gotten that far yet so don't mind any inaccuracies, I just thought he deserves something nice ♡ w.c ~ 1.3k

Your muscles ache. It's a low pleasant hum reverberating through your body, similar to the feeling after a long strenuous day, but nowhere as exhausting. Your heart is still pounding in your chest like an uncontrolled feeling, but it feels so full.

Spencer, the culprit in this story, shifts beside you to pull the covers over your exposed body. He’s gentle and tentative, like he always is, especially after nights like this. It’s like he's apologizing for defiling you the way he does, always concerned about going too far or making you feel uncomfortable. He looks down at you with familiar, warm hazel eyes, and you wonder how he could ever do any of those things.

He brings you closer, an arm coming around your waist to pull you against him. You move to lay on his bare shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact soothing all your stimulated neurons. While you’re slowly coming back to earth, still slightly starry-eyed, you listen to the sound of his heartbeats. You count them, memorize them, get to know him through the organ behind the flesh. It’s so serene that you almost doze off, but Spencer’s raspy voice shakes you awake. 

“Angel.”

You hum, unmoving and consumed by the visions in your head. 

He rubs your shoulder, willing you back to the present. You move to look up at him, and his smile is so sweet that you almost can’t believe he’s the same guy from a few minutes ago. But, then again, no one who knows Spencer would expect him to be so skilled at stealing your breath right out of your body. 

That’s something that no one else will experience with him now that you’re here. You smile, feeling proud and territorial. 

“What are you smiling about?” He leans down and kisses you, you want to ask for more but you’re spent. 

“Nothing,” you whisper against his lips, “Just the fact that you're all mine.” 

He grins, wide and boyish, and you wish his face would glow like that all the time. His flushed face and messed up hair, both being your handiwork, make your heart feel like it's about to burst right out of your chest. Despite just getting your fill of him, you wish you could eat him up right now. 

“Can’t argue with that”, his eyes twinkle playfully, “we still have to get you cleaned up before you can go to bed.” 

You grunt, “god, not again.”

“I’m not letting you go to sleep like that, and you know you’re risking a UTI if you don’t pee before you knock out. It’s essential for a pleasant experience that you wash up properly after, do you know how much bodily fluid you’re covered in right now?” 

You frown, when he says it like that, it sounds really gross, but it’s what you get for being with a germaphobe.

“I hate this part.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear and plants a kiss on your forehead that smoothes your frown down, “I know you do. C’mon, I’ll help you up.” 

Getting up proves to be the easy part, getting up on your legs however, it wasn't as steady as you hoped it would be. When you're forced to sit down on the bed again because the pain pierces through your pelvis so suddenly it feels like getting electrocuted, Spencer looks concerned. 

“Cramps again? I really have to slow down next time.” 

You groan, “no, Spence, I've told you before it’s fine. Just means we had a little too much fun, and it's not a bad thing.” 

He nods hesitantly, “are you sure?” 

“Yeah I am, just,” you reach your arms out, “carry me?” 

His concern is quickly replaced by a bright smile, “gladly.”

Within a few minutes, you’re both out of the bedroom and in the bathtub. Spencer hates the bathtub. He hates sitting down to take a bath and always voices out his concerns about how counterproductive it is to soak in contaminated water. Knowing that he likes to remind you of that everytime you’re taking a bath, Spencer must be dead tired to just sit his naked butt down in the tub, but you’re not complaining. 

Because he’s the sweetest boy on earth, he helps you wash up first, getting all the spots you can’t reach yourself easily. When he’s lazily washing your hair, you decide it’s the perfect moment to start babbling about nonsense, sleep deprivation and bliss mixing together to jumble up all your coherent thoughts. 

“My favorite thing about you being away is when you come back.” 

“So there’s other good things about me being gone?” The smile is so clear in his voice. 

You turn around to scoff at him, “Spence, terrible time to be a smartass.” 

He grins, “it’s never a terrible time to be a smartass.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the bath, you let him clean you up because you can barely see anymore. It’s three in the morning and he came home around midnight. You were already tired by then, but you missed him too much to not take the chance to immediately take him to bed— it’s hard to resist your boyfriend when his hair is growing out again and he hasn’t shaved in 2 weeks.

When the bath is done, he dries you off and helps you get dressed. You’re distracted by his bare chest the whole time, watching the flexion of his arms when he puts a shirt over your head. Then you sit on the bed, observing as he gets dressed. After nearly three hours of touching him in every possible way, his body is still so mesmerizing to you. Nearly three years of being together and countless incidents of unholy experiences, and you still feel like you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“Are you done observing?”

You’re broken out of your lust-filled thoughts by the sound of his voice. Looking up at his face, you're met by a crooked smile that makes you slightly breathless. He walks over to the edge of the bed where you’re sitting, and you welcome him with open arms. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You grin, arms tightly secured around his waist. He runs his fingers through your hair, “you’ve never been a very good liar.” 

Your final step getting ready for bed is letting him braid your hair. You always ask him to do it for you because he’s magical with his hands, his braid always coming out perfectly in a way you could never manage. You’ve taught him a lot about how to care for your hair, and as he tentatively and gently crosses the strand to draw up his perfect braid, you can’t help but think about how good of a father he would be if you ever had a little girl. 

When all of that's done, there's nothing coming between you and the bed anymore. You curl up under the covers as he slips in beside you. You're both tired, from the long day and the long night, but the sense of bliss that comes over you is possibly the most satisfied you've ever been. 

You look at him, reaching out to trace the outline of his stubble. He leans into your touch eagerly while you admire him some more, feeling every small detail over his skin. You know he needs the tenderness just as much as you do, especially when he's had long days at work. You know all the monsters he sees at his job secretly haunt him, and you know that he feels hopeful every time he's in your arms— because the world doesn't have to end every time he has to confront cruelty, and there’s love and adoration out there that almost overpowers the poisonous hate.

You reach for his hands, kissing the calluses on his fingertips. You know holding his gun comes with heavy responsibility, a responsibility that’s made him so much tougher than he was when he first started. When you’re done planting a kiss on every fingertip, you kiss his lips one more time, because you love him and you want him to know it. He smiles into the kiss and you’re sure he does. 

The gold in his eyes is the last thing you see before falling asleep.