#but then I drew Joy and the rest you can see <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[pocket-ghostie]

Drew the Underworld Office guys again <3

This page wasn't going to the them and then... uhhh... this happened :D

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[kris-mage-fics]

🕸

This is hilarious and never fails to make me laugh when I see it! The spider's face is so fucking cute it kills me! And the *deleted lmao* is the icing on this beautiful cake!

I'd actually said in the past that Kyrahlise wasn't afraid of spiders. Though anything with more than eight limbs or legs terrified her, like centipedes. But this comic has shown me the light, and now she is also afraid of spiders! Which I find a little funny that someone who can easily take out demons, including the Faceless Lords, is petrified of a little spider!

[mydear-corinthian]

Birthday || Cillian Murphy x reader

Synopsis: Cillian arriving on his birthday back to your shared home after an exhausting Oppenheimer work. Pairing: Cillian Murphy x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, squirting, praising kink, rough sex, p in v, creampie Notes: ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. No hate to Cillian's wife! (we love her) Happy (advance) Birthday my man, Cillian Murphy <3 Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLISTClick here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY masterlist

Cillian is finally free to rest. For the past few months, he has been traveling all around the world with Oppenheimer's premiers, interviews, new promotions with different brands, and of course, the awarding ceremonies.

Due to the busy schedule your husband had, you weren't able to talk to him physically, kiss him, touch him, go out with him, or complete your day with him for months. During the busy period, both of you will hop on Skype or Zoom every week to talk about what's happening.

Now that the promotions and other interviews are finished, Cillian can finally come back home to his hometown in Cork, Ireland with you and his family. He'll arrive no later than May 23, just a day before his 48th birthday.

Currently, you're in your shared home, alone. Laying down on the massive queen-sized bed. With your phone in your hand, you texted him.

"Hello, love. Where are you already?" you typed.

After a few minutes, your phone buzzed, and a text notification popped up, showing Cillian's name.

"I'm in Ireland already. I'll let you know if I'm in Cork. I love you." Cillian replied.

"Alright. Have a safe trip, Cill. I love and miss you." you texted the last time, smiling like an idiot before turning off your phone, and placing it on top of the nightstand beside you. Getting comfortable, you pulled up the comforter up to your chest before turning off the lamp and sleep.

<>

You woke up to the sound of the front door being opened.

Yawning, you stood up, rubbing your eyes as you grabbed your white robe that was hanging on the back of your shared room.

As you walked down the stairs, you saw Cillian. His hair was longer than the last Skype call you had and you find it hot. His luggage and his carry-on bag were dropped on his side when he saw you.

You sprinted over to embrace him tightly and warmly, taking in his scent before planting a quick kiss on his lips. You felt planted in the moment, protected and cherished in his familiar hug. Everything else seemed to fade away as your heart was filled with the delight of being reunited. You drew back just enough so that you could meet his eyes and saw the same joy in.

"I've missed you, Cill," you said, smiling.

"I missed you so much, (y/n),"

Your lips and his made contact again. The both of you exchange a sweet and short passionate kiss.

You broke the kiss, letting out an exhale, your face still smiling.

"You must be tired, darling. Just leave the bags there, the kids will handle that tomorrow," you said, guiding the way to your shared bedroom upstairs.

You were shocked to feel Cillian's hands grab your face and give you a hard kiss as soon as you two got to the door. Your eyes widened at the quick action, but you were also craving for this. You haven't felt or seen each other in months. You gave him an aggressive kiss back, and as the kiss increased, you reached out to hold his neck and tasted one other's melting tongues once again.

"Cill - Aren't you tired? We can do this tomorrow," you interrupted.

"Oh fuck no. I want you now, love. I've missed you so much," Cillian replied.

"The kids aren't home, by the way. They're both in a sleepover with their friends."

"That's good. No one can hear you scream then,"

Cillian lowered you onto the mattress carefully and kept his kiss intact. You took off your sleepwear shirt and robe, exposing your hard nipples and breasts, as he carefully undid his shirt. Cillian bit and sucked you as he marked you as his, his lips moving from your jaw to your neck. You gripped a fistful of his hair and groaned with ecstasy.

"Fuck - you're so pretty .. and hot .." he muttered in between kisses, adorning your whole face and neck.

Cillian slowly kissed you lower and lower until he reached your covered cunt. Your black panties soaking from the recent touch. He chuckled, putting his face in front of your wet and needy cunt.

"So fucking wet for me, huh?" he teased, biting his lower lip at the sight.

"Oh yes, Cillian .. please,"

"Please what?"

"Fuck me, Cillian. Fuck me, please .." you begged, clenching your cunt feeling wetter and wetter every time he speaks.

Cillian let out a soft chuckle before removing your black lace panties. Tossing it on the floor. You can feel his breath in your cunt.

Finally, he devoured you. His tongue circled around your clit and sucked it harshly making you whimper loudly. The sound of his tongue doing magic to your cunt echoed throughout the room, eating you like a thirsty man.

"I missed you. I missed your touch. I missed your taste .. God, fuck, you taste so good," he praised, continuing to eat you out.

Your back arched at the pleasure, taking a fist full of his hair, pinning him down your cunt deeper, your thighs locking his face.

No words can come out of your throat to feel the kind of pleasure. You let out a series of moans and gasps, not even worrying if the neighbors can hear you.

Feeling a knot in your stomach performing, your legs trembled, digging his face deeper and deeper as you let out a very loud moan, your cunt clenching.

"Mhm cum for me, baby .. yeah that's right .. fuck," Cillian muttered as his tongue flicked your clit even faster, helping you to reach your peak.

"Fuck!" you let out a loud moan as you started to squirt. Your juices squirting all over his mouth and on the bedsheets. A white substance leaking out of your cunt.

"Shit, that was hot," he commented.

"No, Cill .. please, I need more .. I need you,"

"You've missed me that much, huh? Well, since you asked properly,"

Cillian removed his pants alongside his black boxers, tossing them on the floor. His cock sprung open, pre-cum leaking.

His hand strokes it for a while before entering you slowly, feeling how your tight cunt takes him. Cillian let out a low groan as he entered you fully. His pace started out slow, allowing you to adjust to his huge size. Your breasts bounce at each thrust as you felt his cock inside you. Slowly, he started penetrating faster and deeper, allowing him to pleasure all of your sensitive spots. You moaned out loud as you felt your g-spot touch his cock, your hands crumpling the bedsheet. His pelvis hit your hips as he thrusted harshly making a series of loud skin-clapping sounds.

"God, you feel so good, (y/n)," he groaned, his eyes fully shutting, feeling every spot of your cunt inside you.

"Yes yes yes yes! Oh, Cillian .."

You felt a huge difference with his cock and the toy that you have in your closet. When he was away, you would fuck yourself with a toy, imagining lustful scenarios of him fucking you harshly. His cock felt better.

"C'mon, baby .. let the neighbors know how much I fucking please you,"

You let out a much louder moan as you felt your orgasm coming again. Cillian's fingers toying with your hardened nipples as he harshly pounded you.

"I'm gonna - I'm.. fuck! I'm cumming .. I'm cumming, oh!" you shouted, feeling like bursting at any second.

"Me too, baby .. Oh yes,"

After a few harsh pounds, you finally came and so did Cillian. Letting his seed pour inside your walls, filling you up. Your legs trembled as you clenched your cunt on his cock.

Cillian finally pulled out, a huge load of your cum and his leaking out of your penetrated hole, staining the bedsheets again.

"Look at you dripping at my cum. You're such a good girl," he praised before kissing you but this time, more softer and passionate.

"I love you, Cill."

"I love you more, (y/n),"

You looked at the wall clock, checking on time. When your eyes saw the time, you smiled. It's 12 midnight.

"Happy Birthday, love." you greeted.

"Oh, it's my birthday now? I guess I deserve another round of gift, hm?"

Chuckling at his response, you playfully hit him on the shoulder before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

The two of you ended up sleeping at 4 in the morning that day. 

[rafedarling]

What about single dad Drew with like his 3 year old baby girl who looks just like him. And he’s her favorite person on either and she’s his 🥺

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

pairing: none, just single dad!drew

summary: drew is a single father to his three-year-old daughter, lila, who is the spitting image of him. with her big blue eyes and a curious smile that matches his, they share an unbreakable bond. lila’s love for her father is as fierce as his devotion to her, and every moment they spend together becomes a memory drew treasures. through the little joys and challenges of parenthood, drew learns that being a father is the greatest role he’s ever had. but most of all, he discovers that the pure love of his daughter can heal wounds he didn’t even know were still open.

warning(s): fluff, emotional family bonding, mentions of single parenthood, brief reference to past heartache (lila’s mother is absent).

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

It was one of those mornings that began with slow and gentle, Drew stirred in his sleep, groaning slightly as he felt the small, familiar weight of his daughter beside him.

Lila had crawled into bed with him sometime during the night, the way she always did when she had a bad dream or just wanted to be close to her daddy. Drew never minded. In fact, it had become one of his favorite parts of the day—waking up with her warm little body tucked against his side.

“Daddy,” Lila’s sleepy voice whispered, barely more than a breath as she wiggled closer.

Drew blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry from sleep, but he didn’t need to see to know it was her. He could recognize the feel of her curls against his arm, the smell of her lavender baby shampoo, and the soft sound of her breathing.

“Morning, princess,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He glanced down and saw her big blue eyes looking up at him—eyes that mirrored his own so perfectly, it always made him pause. He smiled sleepily, brushing her unruly curls out of her face.

Lila giggled, her little hand resting against his cheek. She was always doing that, always touching him, like she needed the reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Daddy, I had a dream,” she said, her voice serious as if she was about to impart some great wisdom.

“Oh yeah?” Drew replied, feigning interest, knowing the dream was probably something nonsensical. “What was it about?”

“There was a unicorn,” Lila began, her eyes wide with excitement. “And he was pink! And he could fly, and we went to space, and there were lots of stars. And then you came and helped me catch them.”

Drew’s heart melted as he listened to her. Her imagination always amazed him, the way she could create entire worlds in her mind. “Wow, that sounds like a great dream. You caught the stars, huh?”

Lila nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing with the motion. “Yep! And I saved one for you.”

Drew smiled, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. “Thank you, princess. I love it.”

Lila beamed, proud of her imaginary star-catching prowess, then her stomach growled, and she let out a tiny giggle.

“You hungry, huh?” Drew chuckled.

“Mmhmm. Can we have eggs, Daddy? And toast?” Lila asked, her voice bright with anticipation.

“Eggs and toast coming right up,” Drew said, lifting her effortlessly into his arms and carrying her toward the kitchen. She clung to him, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressed against his chest. There was something about the way she held onto him—like he was her whole world, and in truth, she was his.

In the kitchen, Lila hopped onto her usual spot at the counter, kneeling on the stool as Drew began preparing breakfast. She had taken to watching him cook with the same focus and attention that she gave her favorite cartoons.

“Can I help?” she asked, her little legs swinging as she leaned forward eagerly.

Drew smiled over his shoulder at her. “Of course, chef. I’ll let you stir the eggs, okay?”

Lila grinned widely, proud of her role in their breakfast routine. She stood up on her stool, bouncing a little as Drew handed her the whisk. With intense concentration, she began stirring the eggs, her little hand gripping the whisk as she moved it back and forth in the bowl. Drew watched her with quiet amusement, amazed at how even something as simple as stirring eggs could make her so happy.

“You’re doing great, Lila,” Drew said, placing a hand on her back to steady her as she leaned too far forward.

“I’m a good cooker, Daddy,” she declared, her tone full of self-assuredness.

“You are,” Drew agreed, chuckling softly as he took over, scrambling the eggs in the pan. He added some diced tomatoes and a sprinkle of cheese, knowing Lila loved the little bursts of flavor.

“Can we have juice too?” Lila asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Juice coming up,” Drew replied, reaching into the fridge for her favorite—apple juice. He poured some into her tiny cup, the one with the little dinosaurs on it that she always insisted on using.

“Yay!” Lila cheered, clapping her hands together.

When the eggs and toast were done, Drew carried the plates to the table and helped Lila into her seat. She immediately dug into her food, her face lighting up with each bite.

“Daddy, these are the best eggs ever,” she said between mouthfuls, crumbs gathering on her lips.

“Glad you like ‘em,” Drew said, shaking his head with a smile. He could never get over how much joy she found in the simplest things. It was one of the many things about Lila that made his heart ache with love.

They ate in comfortable silence, the sound of Lila’s chatter and the clinking of plates filling the room. Drew sipped his coffee, feeling that familiar warmth settle in his chest. He had always heard that being a parent changed your life, but nothing could have prepared him for just how much his heart would expand for this little person sitting across from him.

Lila finished her breakfast with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction, then leaned back in her chair, her legs still swinging back and forth beneath the table.

“What are we gonna do today, Daddy?” she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

Drew thought for a moment, considering their usual weekend routines. It was Saturday, and Saturdays were their special days—days meant for playground visits, spontaneous adventures, and all the cuddles in the world.

“Well,” Drew began, wiping her sticky face with a napkin. “How about we go to the park, and then maybe we can make some art when we get back? What do you think?”

Lila’s eyes lit up. “The park! And can we make a rainbow? I wanna paint a rainbow.”

“Deal,” Drew said, laughing softly. “Park first, rainbow later.”

Lila bounced excitedly in her chair, unable to contain her excitement. “Let’s go, Daddy! Let’s go now!”

Drew stood and started to clean up the plates, but Lila had already darted off to grab her shoes from the hallway. He shook his head, marveling at her boundless energy, and followed her, grabbing her tiny pink jacket from the hook by the door.

At the park, Lila ran ahead, her tiny legs carrying her as fast as they could toward the swings. Drew trailed behind her, his eyes never leaving her. She was so small, yet so full of life, and watching her made him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Push me, Daddy!” she called out as she climbed onto the swing, her little feet dangling as she gripped the chains tightly.

Drew jogged over and gave her a gentle push, smiling as she squealed in delight. The sound of her laughter filled the air, and Drew felt the now-familiar swell of pride and love wash over him.

Lila was everything to him. Every smile, every laugh, every tiny hand held in his—it all reminded him that he was exactly where he needed to be. He may not have planned to raise her on his own, but the moment she came into his life, everything else faded into the background.

“Higher, Daddy!” Lila begged, her laughter bubbling up again.

Drew obliged, giving the swing another push. Her laughter rang out louder, her curls flying wildly around her face.

He couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how fast life moved, moments like these would always be his favorite.

By the time they made it home, Lila was beginning to slow down, her earlier energy now spent. They spent the afternoon painting rainbows at the kitchen table—Lila’s small hands making a mess of the watercolors while Drew watched her with soft eyes.

Her rainbow was more of a colorful blob by the time she finished, but to Drew, it was a masterpiece.

“Look, Daddy! I made it for you,” she said, holding up her painting proudly.

Drew took it from her, his heart swelling. “It’s perfect, Lila. Just like you.”

Later, as the evening crept in, Drew tucked Lila into her bed, her soft whispers filling the quiet room. “Daddy, can you stay with me?” she asked, her small hand reaching out for his.

Drew smiled, crawling into the bed beside her. “Always, princess. Always.”

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

A request that I received from a friend on tumblr. ‘The reader has to leave for a week roughly, when he comes back Abby is obviously excited and wanting to play with the reader the rest of the day. But all Mike wants to do is have you under him writhing in ecstasy. Basically it's Mike having blue balls for most of the fic until the end when it's night and he *politely* hugs the reader while they frantically make love’

Tags: Part 10 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Mike is missing you deeply. A tiny bit of jealousy. Mentions of phone sex. Smut. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Anal sex.

Words count: 3000 words

Part 1-Part 2- Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8 -Part 9

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The moment you stepped through the door, Abby's squeal echoed through the house. You barely had time to set your bag down before she came bounding toward you, her little arms outstretched. She wrapped herself around your waist in an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking you off balance.

"You're back! You're back!" she cried, hopping on her toes as if to emphasize the sheer force of her excitement.

You laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Missed me that much?"

She pulled back, her face a mixture of indignation and joy. "Of course I missed you! You've been gone forever!" She tugged at your hand insistently, her small fingers gripping tightly. "You have to see what I did while you were gone. I drew a lot! And I made one for you and you have to see it."

"Abby, take it easy, you're going to knock him over," Mike's voice came from the kitchen, casual but unmistakably warm. "He has been gone a week and you've got him chained to you already?"

"I missed you too," you said with a grin before kneeling down to meet Abby’s eye level. "Have you been good while I was gone? Not driving your brother too crazy, I hope?"

Abby giggled, then held out her pinky. "Promise I've been super good. Except maybe when I made Mike drop the spaghetti last night because I tried to do a cartwheel in the kitchen."

You glanced up at Mike, your smile widening. “Sounds like I missed quite a week.”

Mike rolled his eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sorry about her," his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "She's been talking about you all week. You'd think you were gone for months." His voice sent a pleasant shiver through you, low and steady but edged with amusement.

"She's fine," you said, smiling. "Honestly, it's nice to be missed."

He leaned against the doorframe, the dim lighting catching the tired creases under his eyes. Black hair messy t-shirt that clung to his lean but sturdy frame. His gaze lingered on you and only now did you realize how much you had missed him.

Abby, oblivious to the silent tension, kept tugging at your hand. "Come on! I need to show you something!" Her excitement bubbled over, her small hands pulling you toward her room with surprising strength. "I drew so many things while you were gone and you have to see them all!".

You glanced over at Mike, offering him a half-apologetic smile as his sister guided you by her room. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his lips twitching between amusement and thinly veiled frustration.

Mike's brow arched slightly as though to say, ‘Really? After a week away, you're prioritizing her?’ But he didn't speak his protest aloud. Instead, he pushed off the doorway with a grunt, muttering, "Guess I'll just... wait my turn."

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with crayon drawings taped to the walls, scattered across the floor and piled on her tiny desk. Abby flopped onto the carpet, pulling out a stack of drawings with the urgency of someone sharing top-secret information. "Okay, okay! Look at this one first. It's Chica but I made her of a different color."

You chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside her as she thrust the drawing into your hands. “A total masterpiece."

Her eyes sparkled at your praise. "You think so? Look at this one!" She shuffled through the pile, pulling out another one that she eagerly handed to you.

"This one is us at the park," she explained, holding up a crayon drawing of the three of you surrounded by flowers and trees. "Those two are you and Mike holding hands! I drew it because you're always together."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment but also a deep sense of affection. "You're quite the artist, Abby. I look amazing here. You're going to be famous one day."

Her eyes lit up at the compliment, and she beamed with pride. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you assured her, glancing at Mike. "Right, Mike?"

From the bed, where Mike had sprawled out with all the ease of a man trying to keep his patience in check, a low sound of approval erupted. He smirked at the question, his gaze flickering between you and Abby. "Yeah, kid. You've got some real talent. Be careful, though. Keep going like this and his ego's going to get too big." His dark eyes watched you intently, softening ever so slightly every time Abby smiled at you.

Abby's grin widened and she immediately dove into her stack of drawings to find more to show you. Mike's smirk softened into a fond smile as he watched her animatedly interact with you. He loved seeing you and Abby bond, though his gaze kept drifting to you, lingering on the curve of your back as you leaned forward, the way your lips quivered when you laughed and the soft glow in your eyes as you encouraged Abby.

A part of him felt guilty for how often his mind wandered, but he couldn't stop the flood of thoughts. He knew he should focus on the moment, but his body's reaction to having you so close after a week apart was impossible to ignore

He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the mundane but his gaze kept wandering back to you. Your fingers brushed hers as you helped her shuffle through the pile of pictures, your laughter soft and genuine as you let her talk about her latest dream.

‘God, those hands...’ his eyes lingering on the way your fingertips moved. He didn't mean to stare, but the memory of those same hands clutching his shoulders, clawing at his back, sent a flash of heat straight to his core.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, feigning disinterest as his thoughts betrayed him. The view of the way you leaned slightly forward, the curve of your spine visible through your shirt made it ten times worse. He wondered, for the briefest of moments, what it would feel like to have you there on the floor, pinned beneath him, the softness of your moans muffled against his lips.

Abby leaned against your shoulder, holding up another picture. This one was clearly meant to be Mike, his hair a chaotic swirl of black scribbles. "This one's you, Mike! I made his hair messy because it's always like that." she exclaimed, holding up a surprisingly decent rendition of his perpetual frown.

"It's not always messy," he protested half-heartedly. He was leaning against the bed frame, one leg propped up, his head tilted lazily against the wall. You turned toward him with a grin. "She's not wrong, though."

Mike shot you a glare, though there was no real malice behind it. "I see you've both decided to team up on me. Great. Just what I needed after a long week." he muttered.

Abby giggled, unfazed by his grumbling as she kept eagerly pulling out new drawings she made

His eyes softened at the sight of you and Abby together. She was sitting so close to you, practically in your lap, her small hand tugging at your sleeve as she babbled on about her next masterpiece. It was enough to make his heart ache, both from the warmth of seeing you bond with her and the sharp sting of jealousy that you weren't paying attention to him.

He let his head fall back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he tried to shake the frustration bubbling in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this. Abby was a kid and she deserved every bit of your attention. But damn it, he'd missed you. A week without you had felt like an eternity and now that you were here, he had to sit back and wait?

His fingers twitched at the memory of the previous night at work. Alone in the security office, watching the flickering monitors, the silence stretching endlessly. It had been another slow, uneventful shift, the kind that made every second feel like an hour.

One second he was leaning against the chair, the next he got up and grabbed the nearby phone and dialed the number of the structure you were in.

He'd called you on impulse, not even sure you'd pick up so late.

"Mike?" Your voice had been groggy but laced with concern. "It's, like, two in the morning. Are you okay?"

The sound of your voice had been a balm to his frayed nerves. “Yeah," he'd said, leaning back in the chair, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. "I'm fine. Just... bored. Wanted to hear your voice." His tone had shifted, growing rougher, more deliberate.

There'd been a pause, and then a soft chuckle. "You miss me that much, huh?"

He hadn't denied it. He couldn't. Instead, he'd let the words tumble out, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he told you how much he'd been thinking about you. And God, the way you'd responded, your voice growing softer, breathier, as the conversation took a turn he hadn't dared hope for.

By the end of it, he'd been a mess, stroking himself as your whispered moans filled his ear. He'd closed his eyes, picturing you on his lap, your hands clutching his shoulders, your body rocking against his as he thrust up into you over and over. He could still hear your voice, the way you'd gasped his name when you came. It had been enough to leave him breathless, slumped in his chair with his hand still wrapped around himself.

The memory of your voice, the way you'd whimpered his name through the phone, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through him even now.

"Mike, you're not even looking!" Abby's voice snapped him back to the present. She was holding up another drawing, her brow furrowed in mock frustration.

He adjusted his position on the bed, praying Abby wouldn't notice the tension in his body, forcing a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. Let me see."

The hours dragged on, but for Mike, every second felt like an eternity. He loved how natural you were with her, how effortlessly you fit into their little world. But the selfish part of him, the one that had spent countless sleepless nights imagining your body pressed against his, was losing the fragile grip it had on its patience.

Night had finally fallen and Abby, despite her earlier determination to stay awake and keep playing, had succumbed to exhaustion. She lay nestled inside the fort she had spent the better part of the evening constructing, pillows stacked precariously, blankets draped over chairs and furniture, her breathing slow and steady. Mike had taken care to tuck another blanket securely around her, brushing her hair back gently before stepping away.

You stood near the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a fond smile. There was something endlessly endearing about seeing Mike in dad mode, his gruff exterior softening as he ensured Abby was warm and comfortable.

"She's out cold," he murmured as he joined you at the door, his voice low to avoid waking her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he gently shut the door behind him.

When he turned back to you, there was a shift in his expression. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist in a firm but measured embrace. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his stubble brushing against your skin as his breath came hot and steady.

"Finally," he murmured, his voice husky. "My turn."

You chuckled softly, though your breath hitched at the weight of his tone. "What, you missed me that much?" You tried to keep your voice light, teasing, though your heart raced as he held you.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his dark gaze smoldering. "You have no idea." His fingers pressed into your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush. "No more interruptions. You're mine now."

Mike's hand never left your waist as he guided you down the hall toward the bedroom. His grip was firm but not rushed, his thumb stroking small circles through the fabric of your shirt. Once inside, he kicked the door shut with a soft thud, the sound sending a thrill down your spine.

He turned to you, his eyes tracing over your face before sliding lower, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said quietly, voice low and rough. "All week, really."

He leaned in and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was deep and consuming, tongue brushing yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

He broke the kiss only to press his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. "God, I missed you," he muttered, his hands sliding under your shirt to touch the bare skin of your back. "Every damn second you were gone, I was thinking about you."

Mike eased you onto the bed, his weight settling between your legs as he kissed you again. His hands worked your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his lips moved lower, trailing down your neck, your chest, each kiss deliberate and hungry.

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your pants, pausing for a moment to look up at you. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

He leaned down, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your chest, the soft skin of your stomach. Each kiss was hot and deliberate, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His stubble grazed your skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his mouth.

When he reached your waistband, he paused, glancing up at you through his lashes. "Can I?" he asked, his voice rough but laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands worked your pants and boxers down in one smooth motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but that sensation was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands as they smoothed over your thighs.

He took his time, his gaze never leaving you as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, his stubble brushing against the sensitive skin.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath hot against you. "I've missed this so much."

His hands spread your legs wider as he continued his exploration, his lips and tongue teasing you until you were trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, his pupils blown with desire, he reached into the nightstand for the small bottle of lube you both kept there. The sound of the cap clicking open sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. His eyes met yours as he coated his fingers, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

Your body was trembling with anticipation as you felt his hand slide between your legs, his fingers gently parting your thighs. The first touch of his slick fingers against you made you gasp, your hips instinctively arching off the bed as he began to prepare you. His movements were slow and careful, his fingers working you open with a patience that made your heart swell with affection.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-growl as he worked you open. "God, I've missed feeling like this."

He took his time, making sure you were comfortable, that you were ready, before he added a second finger, then a third, each one stretching you further, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, every touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your lips, your body aching for more.

He reached down to unbutton his own pants, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes until he was just as bare as you were.

He settled between your legs, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh.

His words sent a flush of heat through you, your hips moving involuntarily as you chased the feeling of his touch. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you steady as he added another finger, his movements deliberate.

"You're doing so good for me," he said, his voice softening for a moment. "So good."

The first stretch was intense, a mix of pressure and pleasure as Mike slowly pushed inside. He let out a low, guttural sound as he buried himself to the hilt, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck," he muttered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. "So tight. Feels even better than I remembered."

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust, his breathing ragged as he fought to hold himself still. "Tell me if it's too much," he said, his voice low but tender.

"It's good," you whispered, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. "Go on."

You clenched around him, drawing a sharp groan from his lips. His movements started slow, his hips rocking gently as he let you adjust. But as your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly, he couldn't hold back any longer.

Mike's pace quickened, each thrust deep and deliberate, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, I've missed this. Missed you."

Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement, every touch, felt electric, the built-up tension of the past week spilling over in waves of pleasure.

Mike leaned down, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmured, "You’re taking me so well... so perfect."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove into you with a newfound urgency. His hands roamed your body, touching, gripping, as if he couldn't get enough.

By the time you both reached your peak, you were a mess of tangled limbs and breathless moans. Mike collapsed beside you, his hips stuttered, grip on you tightening as he buried himself to the hilt. His groan was deep and guttural, his body shuddering against yours as he spilled into you, pulling you close against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his lips brushing against your temple. "Don't ever leave me for that long again," he said quietly, his voice still rough from exertion as he tightened his arms around you, his breath evening out as he held you close.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Up next i’ll post another Mike Munroe fic ;)

[puttersmile]

Why I like Dogday x Bobby Bearhug

Working off of my last Crittertember post, posting the shipping manifesto for the four of you who are just dying to know, lol.

Part 1 of Post: Here. Just a lot of pictures.

I guess I should start with how I started liking the ship in the first place. As best as I can remember it started with a mildly intense obsession with the Smiling Critters after seeing them in Poppy Playtime Chapter 3. Their carboard soundboards specifically intrigued me. As a fandom we really had ziltch to work with so maybe I was hyper-analyzing their phrases to see if anything could be gleamed from them.

There isn't much unless we are meant to believe Picky is literally a cannibal. I don't think so? I think the voice lines have been corrupted by the metric ton of death that happened within the factory. Be it as it may, what little we fanon-ize about the critters, a lot of it is probably coming from those soundboards.

A post about this already exists on tumblr but at some random point I thought, "Weird Bobby Bearhug and Dogday's cut outs sound like they are talking to one another." Not sure how my brain jumped to that conclusion but it did. As seen in this post with some old oogly art I drew.

And then @meowcola made my dream come true by editing the two voices together. Yhaass! For this I am forever grateful to my fellow shipper.

I don't think any of the other critter's voice lines bounce off of each other as well as these two do (admittedly with slight editing), or even at all. But Bobby and Dogday's cutouts almost seem to have a conversation that don't work played against any of the others. Dogday trying to push someone away that he cares for and Bobby desperately trying to stay with someone she cares for.

Dogday's fall is he cares too much.

Bobby's fall is she doesn't care enough. For herself.

Obviously they are talking to the player actually but my fanon ship brain interpreted it differently. I guess from there, albeit a doomed one, I shipped this ship fairly hard.

The rest of this rambling essay under the cut:

Why I think they work:

Dogday and Bobby’s relationship is mostly about balance. While Dogday’s the brave and daring leader of the group (except when there's a thunderstorm—he tries), Bobby’s the physically strong yet practical one. She’s a total powerhouse,(literal mama bear energy) ready to protect when needed, but only as a last resort. Dogday loves how protective she is, and Bobby really appreciates his loyalty, especially since it helps with her self-worth issues.

One of Bobby’s biggest insecurities is that she believes she’s annoying to her friends. Even though it’s clear she’s not, in the back of her mind, she constantly second-guesses her actions. She’ll wonder if hugging someone is the right move in the moment or if she’s overstepping. Dogday, on the other hand, is someone who thrives on affection and would never get tired of Bobby’s hugs, making him the perfect counter to her uncertainty.

Both of them would share a strong sense of humor, which helps them face life’s challenges with optimism. Dogday is especially good at this.  They know how to lighten the mood and bring joy to each other’s lives, even when the weight of everything starts to creep in.

Bobby’s also got a knack for stepping in when Dogday forgets to take care of himself. She’s nurturing, and in return, Dogday reminds her she’s worth it, which she sometimes forgets. Though Bobby’s not Dogday’s second-in-command (that’s usually Bubba Bubbaphant), she’s the one Dogday confides in emotionally when leadership wears him down.

Over time, Bobby finds herself leaning on Dogday, too, sharing her deepest insecurities and struggles with him.

What really makes them work is how much everyone trusts Bobby. She’s the keeper of everyone’s secrets because they just naturally open up to her. And eventually, Dogday becomes her rock, giving them this deep emotional connection where they’re both vulnerable and open with each other.

Bobby’s practicality also helps balance out Dogday’s crazier ideas. She rarely says “no” outright, but she’s good at restructuring them to make things safer or less chaotic. If safety’s not the issue, then they’re often the ones mediating when their friends have disagreements. They’ve both learned the importance of compromise and work together to bring peace to any tense situation.

I feel like their brief character descriptions show how good they would both be at this.

They’re known as the “mom and dad” of the group, always looking out for everyone’s physical and emotional well-being.

It’s funny how differently they approach things, like planning events—Dogday’s spontaneous energy versus Bobby’s structured organization—but they still make a great team.

In public, they’ve got this super cute Barbie/Ken - Mickey&Minnie vibe, showing their love for each other without hesitation. It’s strong, proud, and they never shy away from letting everyone know how much they mean to each other!

Character flaws/dark side of the ship:

At their darkest, Bobby and Dogday have some pretty complex flaws. Bobby, when she’s at her worst, can be manipulative. She’s got this way of playing on people’s emotions, sometimes twisting things to suit her needs, all while wearing a caring face. It’s like she knows people trust her and she uses that to her advantage, especially if she’s feeling insecure or threatened.

On the flip side, Dogday’s biggest weakness is his fear of hurting others. He’ll go to great lengths to avoid conflict, even if it means letting himself be hurt. He’s so afraid of causing pain or upsetting someone that he’ll bottle up his own feelings or allow himself to be taken advantage of.

This combination can be dangerous when their issues align, with Bobby’s manipulation and Dogday’s passive acceptance creating a pretty toxic dynamic in their worst moments. Thankfully this outcome is incredibly hard for me to see happening. It is still a possibility though.

(In some messed up but interesting fanfiction)

Other Stuff:

On the wiki I saw something incredibly minute but decided to go ahead and make something of it.  There is the idea, at least, that Dogday is named after “Dogstar” aka Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. If you think about Dogday being associated with Sirius, the Dog Star, and Bobby representing Ursa Major aka The Big Dipper, in my mind it symbolizes how their relationship works.

Sirius is the brightest star, leading the way, just like Dogday, who's bold, full of energy, and always guiding others. Bobby, on the other hand, is like Ursa Major—steady, reliable, and always there to support.

Their relationship reflects that balance: Dogday’s light and leadership are complemented by Bobby’s protective, grounding nature. Together, they’re like two guiding forces—he lights the way, and she provides the strength and stability needed to stay on course.

It’s almost like he can shine brighter because he knows she’s there, holding things together.

And for Bobby, Dogday is the spark that keeps her moving forward, even when she feels uncertain.

It’s also cool how Ursa Major is used for navigation, like Bobby helps Dogday find his way emotionally. Meanwhile, Sirius has been a marker of important times like the "dog days" of summer or the flooding of the Nile river, (The flooding of the Nile is celebrated btw, it's a good thing) just as Dogday marks big changes in Bobby’s life.

They balance each other out like the constellations they represent: one a guiding light, the other a steady, protective force in the background.

I think about the cardboard cutout order. Bobby and Dogday are among the last supposedly, holding out even longer than the athletic Hoppy. I interpret that to mean Bobby on her own has a strong will and some amount of bravery.

Not to throw shade at the others who fell before, as it could have all come down to bad luck.(or bad platforming skills--burn.)  But I bring the “possible” death order up as some might say Bobby’s sweet and caring nature means she is weak or useless. I don’t think so.

This is also why I characterize Bobby as sort of a lady-like yet cute bruiser. Dogday is brave but not the strongest critter by far.  Dogday is  Zelda and Bobby is Link lol.  Bobby Bearhug is his knight in fluffy armor, and Dogday is Bobby’s warm home.

There is a tragedy to this. If Bobby was one of the last two  with Dogday in the game. (Going by the order the cardboard cutouts are seen.) I imagine she was doing her best to support him, only for Dogday to abandon Bobby near the end. As the leader, Dogday did what he thought was best and it broke her, ultimately ending them both.

How the relationship Helps them grow:

Not wanting to end this on a down note I’ll speak a bit more on how the relationship enhances both of them.

Bobby’s practical, more thoughtful approach doesn’t just temper Dogday’s adventurous spirit as what may be expected from a dynamic like this. In fact it enhances his daring. 

Yes, it'll ease him off riskier behavior but it enables him to be a more successful leader with her providing safety nets and or foundations for him to be confident. It's not just him willing confidence from within, there's another external pillar to  bolster his confidence. That pillar being her secret knowledge of their friends. While Bobby won't be spilling secrets, she'd certainly know how to guide Dogday in the right direction when it comes to helping the others.

She helps ensure that his ideas are successful and safe, so he'll not only be able to focus his energy on particulars but he'll have the confidence to be the best leader he can be, knowing he won't just come crashing down to earth.  

In turn Dogday's boundless energy, brings joy and spontaneity to Bobby’s more grounded maybe reserved, structured world.  Though she is strong she likely tends to fall back to what's familiar, to what's safe. There is strength in the familiar in the sense of you know for sure you are strong here, but out there things may be more uncertain. 

Out there you can feel weak. At least that's the perception for some with issues of self worth. But now with his energy, his enthusiasm, his optimism, and his light, she'll have the freedom to step out of her usual comfort zones and perhaps be more than she may have imagined. 

Sooo yeah. This ship is not bad. Nor is it boring. I'll never understand how this sentiment came about. Opposites attract isn't the only way a relationship can be interesting. Okay people?

 And that is all that I have to say! Thanks for listening to my CritterTalk.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 15)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: basically filler, fully feyfey's pov, we'll get revelations in the next chapter 🫶🏻

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Feyre's pov.

The relief that spread through Feyre was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was her chest constricting, making it hard to breath, but it was also the first full breath she had taken in the past hour.

And that beast...

Tamlin.

Feyre did not know whether to cry in fright, weep in joy or hide in shame.

The male she had destroyed for no reason other than her mate's wishes had brought her child, her light in dark and a part of her soul, back to her, and also probably saved him from some sort of danger.

She did not know whether to beg for his forgiveness or thank him for his mercy.

And when his beast-like eyes met hers, everything stilled around Feyre.

Only for her though. She stopped hearing anything, only a high pitched ringing in her ears. Everything around her seemed to move, the room spinning.

The huge and airy space did nothing to alleviate her light headedness.

Feyre watched as Tamlin crouched low so Nyx could get off, as if in slow motion. Nyx grabbed fistfuls of Tamlin's fur, scrambling to get off, the smile on his face never faltering.

Feyre did not realise that she had stopped breathing, that tears were flowing down her face anew until her lungs screamed for air and she had no choice but to oblige.

She drew in a sharp gasp, the feeling a little painful as she watched Nyx waddle over to her. Feyre knew that the only reason Nyx was walking towards her was because Cassian and the other two were holding themselves back from picking him up.

Feyre fell to her knees, holding out her shaking hands, and Nyx's brows furrowed, his smile dropping.

"Mama? Why are you crying?"

Feyre shook her head, pulling him into her chest. "I'm not crying. My eyes are just sweating because there is dirt in them."

Feyre glanced around, realising everyone was staring at the two. Y/n and Mor were crying, while the rest of the males looked on, their faces grim.

With a start, she realised Tamlin had turned to his fae form.

He looked healthy. Healthier than he had been before.

That was all she could focus on, her mind refusing to let go of her fear and making it hard to think properly.

Nyx pushed away from her, smiling again. "You know momma, I made a new friend." He turned halfway to point at Tamlin, who looked on, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"Is that so darling? That's very nice. But how did you meet him?"

Nyx opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, his brows furrowing. Dread started pooling in Feyre's stomach.

"I don't remember..." He trailed off.

"It's okay baby. We'll figure it out later." Feyre pushed his hair back from his face, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Nyx? Are you still awake?" The sound of Fin's voice drew everyone's attention, and Feyre watched the three members of the inner circle closely.

Confusion scrunched their faces before recognition set in. Even Azriel, who was usually collected and calm, could not hide the shock at seeing another child that resembled so much of his brother.

Their wide eyed gazes swung to Y/n, who walked up to Fin and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, a determined expression on his face, before he walked over to Nyx, tugging him away. The maid that had been assigned to Fin followed the boys closely back to their rooms.

Feyre rose a questioning brow at Y/n, who simply extended a hand to help Feyre climb back to her feet. Y/n glanced around once, then whispered to Feyre. "Go with the kids. After the meeting is done, I'll bring them to Fin's room to talk." She inclined her head towards the confused Inner circle members.

Feyre nodded.

And, with a last glance at Tamlin, followed after the kids.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @tele86

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit @thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival

[nevaroonie]

Amazing Right

WC - 1043 TW - One-sided love AN - Enjoy

This was the day. This was it, Milo would finally stop hiding behind the skirts of his pants. He would confess.. He would tell Asher how he felt. That and he was tired of that stealth teasing him. At one point, they threatened to asher themselves, and that's when Milo drew the line. 

If anyone were going to be telling Asher anything it would be him. Especially if it concerns his feelings for him… he just had to build up that confidence.. To you know.. Actually.. Say the words- 

It’s only 3 words.. ‘’ I Like You ‘’ yet they hold so much weight. Maybe it wasn’t the weight they carried it was the actions after. What if Asher didn’t understand what he meant? What if Asher just turned him down? What would the pack hierarchy think? He is the beta after all. 

There was so much to consider, for 3 little words. 3 little words that meant everything to Milo. 3 little words that can break his heart. Or make it burst with joy. So much could go wrong. But he needed to do this. He didn’t really need to.. More of he wanted to get these feelings off his chest. 

But at the same time, he didn’t want to lose the person he cared for the most. 

He was busy right now, but he’d talk to Asher later today. If he could distract him with the promise of games. The blow wouldn’t hurt as much as he was thinking. Yeah.. grabbed his phone out of his pocket.. Maybe they could play some Smash together. And maybe he’d let him win. A smirk covered his face. Yeah.. 

~~~~~~~

After a long day at work, all they wanted to do was go home and rest. But it seems the universe had other plans.  And maybe they felt their heart stop when they heard the elevator stop. They had forgotten about the other person here. The 2 of you were talking.. Then the elevator stopped. 

‘’ I don’t think the button is gonna work..- ‘’ Asher stalled a laugh, this is not how he expected a drop-off to go. That and almost breaking covert for the second time this week- what David doesn’t know can’t hurt him. 

Maybe the elevator could just kick-start itself, and all this be over.. He looked over at the stranger. They looked like they were freaking out.. How could he help…hmm

‘’hey'm Asher.. And seems we are stuck for a bit ‘’ he was trying to break the tension. 

They had a nice name. He could bet they had an even better smile. They looked scared.. He wanted to help with that. 

‘’ hey, why don’t you come over here..? ‘’ waving his hand over. They looked at him and back at the closed elevator doors. Before taking a seat next to the man they now knew as Asher. 

Asher attempted his best to make conversation with them. After all who doesn’t like to shit take their coworkers at i right? How could they not have a water cooler?! All the TV shows have them. The bathrooms being semi-clean wasn’t surprising. 

‘’ you’re a funny guy Asher..’’ 

There was the smile he wanted to see. He knew it was beautiful. 

‘’ well tell me what.. Let me give you my number and we can have all types of conversations.. ‘’ he was hoping the beads of sweat rolling down his face weren’t obvious. 

‘’ sure! Let me see your phone..’’ they reached out, and he practically dropped his phone, though it ended up in their hand eventually. 

‘’All alright I’ll see you Asher! ‘’ they waved him off before they got off on their floor. 

Now that Ash was actually looking at his phone; he’d noticed the message he got from Milo earlier today. 

Wanna Get Your Ass Kicked In Smash? 

He smirked at the message. As if Milo could beat him. Ash’s jiggly puff could easily beat Milo. 

Bet. 

See you at 7 

That was a fast response. Ash shook it off and waited for the elevator to land on his floor. 

~~~~~~~~~~

How many times had Milo lost now? He’d lost track.. One thing was on his mind. And it wasn’t the game, it could have been Asher's smile. That laugh he did whenever he knocked him off the map. Why was this hard? 

3 words.

That's all he had to say. And those 3 words were the hardest things that he could say at this moment. Everything was perfect after all. Games, snacks.. This could be the moment. He could say the words. The ones he’d been longing to say. The ones that were plaguing his mind. 

That's all he had to do. All he had to say. 

I Like You. 

Those words. Why was it so hard to say those words? 

‘’ Milo you good? ‘’ asher looked at him. He looked so lost in thought, and he wanted to tell him about the cool person he met earlier today. 

‘’ y..yeah I’m good. ‘’ milo gulped.. He had to tell him now. The beads of sweat rolling down his face were just a form of liquid encouragement. Yeah.. after all, doesn’t sweat cool the body down? 

‘’ well, that’s good! I would’ve responded to your message earlier but I got stuck in an elevator. ‘’ he chuckled. 

That laugh. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t do this.

‘’ and I met this really cool person, they like Halo and Smash! ‘’ asher stated pausing the game now and looking directly at Milo. 

The sparkling look in Asher’s eyes made him look so pretty. Milo had stopped paying attention to what he was saying. 

‘’We were talking while the elevator was stuck.. And eventually, I got their number! And we should be going out on our first date next week. ‘’ 

Wait what. 

Date. 

Next week? 

‘’ w..what? ‘’ 

Asher very happily recounted everything that happened in the elevator. And Milo’s heart shattered with every word. He had waited so long for this one moment. And he lost it to a panicked stranger. 

He waited his whole life. And lost it all to a damn elevator. 

‘’amazing right?! ‘’ asher had been talking. And he wasn’t paying attention. 

All he could do was nod and hope Ash didn’t notice the tears threatening to spill. Maybe in another life. Asher would be his. 

[bowieandqueen11]

Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...

Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.

I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)

Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!

(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.

You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.

'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!❤️🥰 just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! 🤞❌ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! 🐻😘'

Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.

The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.

So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.

The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.

When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.

Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.

Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 

Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.

And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.

With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.

This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.

This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.

Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.

He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.

'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.

'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'

'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.

'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.

He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.

But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.

'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'

'Told you what?'

'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'

For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.

'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'

'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'

The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.

And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.

Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.

That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.

He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.

He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.

But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!

Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.

Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.

You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 3 EPISODE 09 || THE DOLDRUMS ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

The moon rose huge and fast and golden, a great glowing disc that slid upward, out of the water and into the sky like a phoenix rising. The water was dark now, and the dolphins invisible, but I thought somehow that they were still there, keeping pace with the ship on her flight through the dark. It was a scene breathtaking enough even for the sailors, who had seen it a thousand times, to stop and sigh with pleasure at the sight, as the huge orb rose to hang just over the edge of the world, seeming almost near enough to touch. Jamie and I stood close together by the rail, admiring it. It seemed so close that we could make out with ease the dark spots and shadows on its surface.

It seems so close ye could speak to the Man in the Moon,” he said, smiling, and waved a hand in greeting to the dreaming golden face above.

“‘The weeping Pleiads wester / and the moon is under seas,’” I quoted.

“And look, it is, down there, too.” I pointed over the rail, to where the trail of moonlight deepened, glowing in the water as though a twin of the moon itself were sunken there. “When I left,” I said, “men were getting ready to fly to the moon. I wonder whether they’ll make it.” “Do the flying machines go so high, then?” Jamie asked. He squinted at the moon. “I should say it’s a great way, for all it looks so close just now. I read a book by an astronomer—he said it was perhaps three hundred leagues from the earth to the moon. Is he wrong, then, or is it only that the—airplanes, was it?—will fly so far?” “It takes a special kind, called a rocket,” I said. “Actually, it’s a lot farther than that to the moon, and once you get far away from the earth, there’s no air to breathe in space. They’ll have to carry air with them on the voyage, like food and water. They put it in sort of canisters.” “Really?” He gazed up, face full of light and wonder. “What will it look like there, I wonder?” “I know that,” I said. “I’ve seen pictures. It’s rocky, and barren, with no life at all—but very beautiful, with cliffs and mountains and craters—you can see the craters from here; the dark spots.” I nodded toward the smiling moon, then smiled at Jamie myself. “It’s not unlike Scotland—except that it isn’t green.” He laughed, then evidently reminded by the word “pictures,” reached into his coat and drew out the little packet of photographs. He was cautious about them, never taking them out where they might be seen by anyone, even Fergus, but we were alone back here, with little chance of interruption. The moon was bright enough to see Brianna’s face, glowing and mutable, as he thumbed slowly through the pictures. The edges were becoming frayed, I saw.

“Will she walk about on the moon, d’ye think?” he asked softly, pausing at a shot of Bree looking out a window, secretly dreaming, unaware of being photographed. He glanced up again at the orb above us, and I realized that for him, a voyage to the moon seemed very little more difficult or farfetched than the one in which we were engaged. The moon, after all, was only another distant, unknown place. “I don’t know,” I said, smiling a bit. He thumbed through the pictures slowly, absorbed as he always was by the sight of his daughter’s face, so like his own. I watched him quietly, sharing his silent joy at this promise of our immortality.

I thought briefly of that stone in Scotland, engraved with his name, and took comfort from its distance. Whenever our parting might come, chances were it would not be soon. And even when and where it did—Brianna would still be left of us. More of Housman’s lines drifted through my head—Halt by the headstone naming / The heart no longer stirred, / And say the lad that loved you / Was one that kept his word. I drew close to him, feeling the heat of his body through coat and shirt, and rested my head against his arm as he turned slowly through the small stack of photographs.

“She is beautiful,” he murmured, as he did every time he saw the pictures. “And clever, too, did ye not say?”

“Just like her father,” I told him, and felt him chuckle softly.

Cap 43~ VOYAGER

[maesfics]

YOU WON'T LOOSE ME — d.w

pairing ; dina woodward x fem!reader

↬ warnings ; established relationship, angst, visions. lmk if I forgot anything.

↬ ㅤㅤword count ; 1.2k

↬ synopsis ; 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ a nightmare about losing Dina awakens you, leading to a night of comfort and reassurance with Dina and their son, JJ.

↬ requested ; “can I please request for Dina? I thought about reader waking up because of a nightmare and hugging Dina while crying bc she’s afraid of losing her. Hope that makes sense„

a/n ; i hope i didn't go to left with this for you. thank you for requesting nd your support ! <3

if you want to request it's open! | inbox |

Silence envelops the night, deep, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind against the fragile windowpanes of your makeshift home. As shadows dance across the room, cast by the moon's dim light, sleep, which once cradled you gently, now betrays you. A nightmare, vivid and terrifying, seize your mind—a relentless vision of losing Dina, your anchor in this chaotic, infected world.

Heart pounding, you jolt awake, a silent scream caught in your throat as remnants of dread cling stubbornly to your consciousness. Beside you, under the small pool of moonlight filtering through the thin curtains, lies JJ, your son. His tiny chest rises and falls with a rhythmic peace that starkly contrasts the turmoil inside you. For a moment, you watch his serene face, finding a fleeting solace before the urge to confirm Dina's safety overwhelms you.

Assuming JJ is safe and needs to see Dina, you slip quietly from the bed and tread softly across the creaking wooden floor. Each step feels like an eternity as you make your way to the living area, where the echoes of your nightmare linger, a stark reminder of the fragility of this life you've built.

As you enter the living room, the sight that greets you steadies your racing heart. Dina, wrapped in an old quilt, sits in an armchair that's seen better days. The moon casts her in a halo of soft light as she gently rocks back and forth, taking JJ into her arms to nurse him back to sleep after he must have stirred. Her presence, a beacon in the lingering shadows, draws you in.

She looks up, her eyes meeting yours, and in them, you find the warmth and understanding that first drew you to her. Without needing to speak, she extends an arm, inviting you into their small circle of light. You kneel beside her, resting your head against her knee, and as her hand finds your hair, stroking softly, the last vestiges of your nightmare begin to dissipate.

"You okay?" she whispers, her voice a soothing balm.

You nod, not trusting your voice, content to be near her, to see her and JJ together—safe.

Once JJ's eyelids flutter closed, securing him back in dreamland, Dina gently places him in his crib and turns her attention back to you. "Tea?" she offers, and you follow her to the kitchen, grateful for the normalcy of the gesture.

As the kettle whistles softly, you find the courage to voice the fears that your nightmare stoked. "I keep seeing these... these visions of losing you, Dina. Every time I close my eyes, it feels like I might never see you again."

She takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and reassuring. "Hey, look at me," she urges gently. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We're in this together, okay? All of us."

Her words, simple yet profound, ease the tightness in your chest. Inspired by a sudden urge to feel the early morning air, to watch the world awaken, you suggest, "Let's watch the sunrise. It's been a while since we did that."

Bundling JJ up, you step outside together, the pre-dawn chill brisk against your skin. You settle on the old bench by the side of your home, Dina sitting close, JJ nestled between you. The eastern sky slowly shifts its colors from night's deep blue to dawn's soft blush.

Here, with the day breaking before you, you talk about everything and nothing—whispered dreams for the future, the simple joys of the day-to-day. Each word weaves a more substantial thread in the fabric of your family.

As the sun ascends, casting its first golden rays through the trees, you feel a warmth that isn't just from the sunlight but from the love and certainty that you, Dina, and JJ share. This moment, this morning renews your hope and determination.

You head back inside, the light of the new day filling your home, casting long shadows across the floor that dance with the gentle rhythm of your movements. Watching Dina play with JJ, his laughter and music fill the room, and you feel a profound sense of peace.

Each day is a gift, a new beginning, a promise made under the whisper of the dawn sky—that no matter what, you will face it together.

As you sit together, sipping the warm tea that Dina has prepared, the silence between you stretches, comfortable yet filled with the weight of unspoken worries.

 Dina's gaze is thoughtful and reflective as she watches the steam curl from her cup. "Do you remember the day we found this place?" she asks, breaking the silence. Her question pulls you back to a timeless burdened by the immediacy of survival, a day filled with rare hope.

You nod, the memory surfacing amidst the fog of your anxieties. "I remember. You said it was perfect because the sunlight hit the porch just right." The recollection brings a faint smile to your face, one that Dina mirrors as she reaches across the table to squeeze your hand.

"Exactly. And because it felt like a place where we could make a real home," she adds, her voice dropping to a whisper. "A place for JJ to grow up, where we could be a family. I meant it then, and I still do. No nightmare, no fear will take that away from us."

Her words, filled with determination and love, help lift the heaviness from your heart. The two of you talk through the night, revisiting memories of how you've built your life together, the challenges you've overcome, and the dreams you still nurture. 

It's a reminder of the strength you draw from each other, fueling your resolve to face whatever comes.

As the first light of dawn begins to seep through the windows, painting the world in hues of gold and amber, you wrap a blanket around your shoulders and step outside. The air is fresh, the promise of a new day palpable. Dina joins you. 

JJ is now awake and curious in her arms. Together, you walk to the edge of the property, where the open sky stretches wide and unobstructed.

The sunrise is breathtaking, a spectacle of colors that bleed across the horizon, blending into one another. You watch, mesmerized, as the world awakens. 

Birds chirp in the distance, their songs a soundtrack to the sun's ascent. JJ babbles happily in Dina's arms, pointing at the sky with chubby fingers.

"This—this right here—is why we keep fighting, right?" Dina says, her voice was soft and emotional. "For moments like this, for him."

You nod, your heart swelling with love and renewed purpose. "For all of us," you affirm, feeling the weight of your nightmares lessen in the rising sun's light. "We have so much to live for and protect."

You spend the morning outside, embracing the day together as a family. Dina teaches JJ how to say "sun" and "sky," her laughter mingling with his excited squeals. You capture these moments in your mind, a mental album of all the reasons why you fight and why you survive.

As the day emerges, you return inside, energized by the morning's beauty and clarity.  Once a mere shelter, the house feels more like a home with each passing day, filled with the sounds and sights of your small family thriving against the odds.

In these moments, the nightmares that haunt your sleep seem distant, their hold on you weakened by the love and life that fill your days. You know they may return, as they often do in this harsh world, but you also know you have everything you need to face them—as long as you have Dina and JJ by your side.

[d-criss-news]

juliamat: One year ago today we were kicking off our CAMP DRULIA wedding weekend, and I can taste the s’mores and giggles like it was yesterday🥲🏕️. Here are some moments from the Friday night talent show hosted by @ sydawg and @ joelwaggoner - two of my hilarious and dearest pals who had never met, yet managed to coordinate matching bedazzled denim lewks and host the most joyful and insane show full of surprises and love and happy tears. There were songs, stories, magic tricks, two performances of the court scene from My Cousin Vinny, our families surprising us with an original group poem, college memories, singalongs, prizes, and so much more— in these slides you will see 1) Joel and Sydney performing their meticulously rehearsed Hot Honey Rag 2) DRULIA performed by @ darrencriss @ miavoncriss @ philipsparkle @ iamreedcampbell 3) Joel and myself improvising what we thought might be the title song of Sondheim’s “Here We Are” without knowing anything about it 4) @ sarabareilles gifting us with the most beautiful rendition of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” that Drew and I will weep about for the rest of our lives. The night ended with everyone rushing the stage and scream-singing Wonderwall because what better way to end the show than to say “anyway, here’s wonderwall—“, and I could not sleep that night because I had pure joy shooting out of my heart and eyeballs. Hey @ drewgehling I’m really glad we got married and I think we should find more excuses to go to summer camp with our friends. Happy Anniversary tomorrow ❤️ 9•15•23 📸 @ karenobrist @ thesistersofcedarlakes @ mrjasonmitchell

[zeborah]

can you share with us your favorite drawings of windicuffs you've done so far?

OF COURSE!!!! i haven't drawn them in a good while (other hyperfixation has taken over) but to date this is definitely my favourite, it's just so warm and summery and full of love and happiness and i KNOW my younger self would be soooo so proud of it if she could see it

and the rest of these are either wips or very old but i think they're good still too 8)

HONORARY MENTIONS FOR THE OGS!!! some old old 12+ year old art that is now ugly but you can see the vision

this animation got 100k+ notes on here and basically nobody knew it was gay homestuck incest so i consider that a CORE life achievement:

here's some that while not perfect by any means, they are fully of love and joy and i remember being so happy when i drew them :^)

this one is so old and weird it has an ifunny.co logo which i think is incredible:

this one is very sweet:

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST these two that i made for my themes :3

the second ones were based off of a repeating sheep background i used at the time, i thought i still had it but unfortunately it has been lost to time B'(

i hope you enjoyed taking this little trip down memory lane with me! i love windicuffs with all my heart and they're the one ship i always end up coming back to with the same adoration i had for them many many moons ago 💝💝

[herzzgeist]

Draw Me Like One Of Your Grand Line Boys

A/N: My face is AGLOW - should I ramble on the part where he shows . . anatomy? I am . . tempted . . eep - Emi over and out

Art by me @lunar-3scap3 :3

„Darling, could you hold still for a moment?“

„Mhm? Wha- What are you- are you drawing me (Y/n)-ya?“

Sitting by side your Captain on a wooden bench, you partake in the joys of art - sketching everything you see and deem worthy to capture for practice.

Hence, seeing your doctor you love oh so dearly practically striking a pose, which screams for you to be kept in your notebook, your eyes quickly switch between Law and the paper in your hands.

The pencil dances over the white, leaving long strokes and lines of black and dark greyish shades behind. Nervous, the Surgeon utters:

„Did I give you the permission to do just that? I have enough wanted posters hanging around!“

„Oh hush, who said I‘ll be showing this to anyone?“

A mild blush spreads over your cheeks as you smile in fluster to yourself, drawing the good-looking man seated next to you.

Law groans in protest, jaw tensing up to your audacious yet adorable statement. As if contagious, red tint crawls over him as well, awfully irritating the white hatted one. The contrast between him and his accessory becoming much more evident to Trafalgar's mishap, assuming the heat on his face is more than noticable.

„Sweetheart, could you-“

With a hint of sarcasm lingering in his tone, he rolls your pet name off his tongue, teasingly yet lovingly. However, you interrupt him instantaneously, for his unwanted movements displease you without question.

„No! Don‘t move, I‘m almost finished!“

Soft sounds of led fluttering over paper has a somewhat calming effect on Law, given the fact he himself does it for hours on end, working through nights, taking notes to still his hunger for knowledge.

Through the corner of his eye, he watches how concentration marks your expression, tongue slightly sticking out and brows furrowed in complete fixation.

Law can't help but give off a small huff to that display, amused by the desirable woman sketching him with sheer determination.

A gentle touch to his cheek takes him aback, ripping him out of trance, as you trace your digits along his austere jaw line.

„You . . stop that! Are you done?“

„Oh yes.“

„Then why are you fondling me? It's unheard of!“

With your palm resting on his side, you lean in and gift him a small peck onto his now agape in surprise lips.

„Just wanted to check if I drew your handsome features correctly.“

Frozen, Law only musters to grunt at you in annoyance, though you can detect a tinge of mellow in his storm grey eyes. It tickles you everytime how stoic and profound he holds his demeanor, attempting to keep himself together, even before you.

Not dwelling on it too long, you proudly present your sketch.

„What do you think?“

His eyes widen, out of speechlessness he only manages to shake his head.

„Did you have to give my face a blush? I clearly wasn't!“

„Sure, whatever my flustered supernova says.“

You purr at Law sheepishly, opting him to debate about taking an unannounced leave or face you with an ever spreading glow in his try hard serious expression. He goes for the latter with an exasperated sigh:

„I'm not very apt in art, but I think it looks alright . . at least I can recognise that shady figure.“

Enhancing 'shady' with a dash of jest in his voice, a subtle smile enframes his mouth and a cozy feeling overcomes you by that sight. You backtalk with sass in your tone:

„Oi, be nice! It's just a quick sketch.“

Getting off from his seat, he towers before you and lets adoration guide his hand towards your chin, lifting it to meet your gaze:

„Just keep on practising and you'll be a wonderful artist in no time, (Y/n). Come on, lets get going.“

And now it's you who has to fight with the inner coil of heat, abashment written all over you, as you lean into his touch. What a needy woman you are, Law thinks to himself, enjoying how easily he can turn the tables on you. To top it all off, he adds:

„Oh and if you need a refrence for anatomy studies, feel free to ask me, I'll gladly show you how male bodies function.“

That dirty little-

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

My dear, dear friend,

I would LOVE more of your Levi writing! Can I request some?

I would love to read your take on how Levi deals/reacts to an s/o whose love language is physical touch 👀👀

❤️🐞

Your requests are always welcome <3

I feel like you'd end up quietly holding back your more blatant touches for a while.

Before you became official, it was limited to brushing your fingers over his when you handed him something, placing your hand on his back when you passed him in the hallway, and honestly, Levi found it odd at first.

He's an intimidating guy, people don't just touch him, most people won't even stand within six feet of him if they have a choice!

It clued him in to your feelings pretty early on, but he did nothing about it for a while. Your only indication that he cared about you specifically was that he never stopped you from touching him.

After a rather...explosive confession from him, it becomes obvious to you that you need to ease him into the whole physical touch thing.

He still startled whenever you stand close enough for your arms to touch, or when you take his hand to pull him somewhere.

It took him a year to realise he now yearns for that touch, but when he did...

You'd had an infernal day, the kind of day only a long nap and possibly a good cry could cure. You were starfished in bed, staring at the ceiling while contemplating whether or not you could be bothered to get up and get dinner, when you heard your door swung open.

You arched a brow, checking the clock on your bedside table. Levi is the only one with a key to your place, and he rarely comes by before sundown.

Sure enough, the man himself pushed open your bedroom door, but he looks...tired.

His eyes are rimmed with darker circles than usual, his hair hangs limp and wild in his eyes, as if he's been dragging his hands through it all day, and his shirt collar is popped up.

To most, he'd hardly appear dishevelled, but you knew him better than that, and went to sit up.

His eyes take you in, still in your day clothes, slouched above your sheets, as if he can see that day you've had in the set of your shoulders. "You good?"

You shrugged. "Helluva day. You?"

Levi heaved a massive sigh, his shoulders slumping with it as he threw his jacket on top of your dresser. "I need a damn hug."

Your eyes went wide, jaw slack, and before you could collect yourself, Levi's sitting himself beside you and placing his head on your shoulder, prompting you to naturally wrap your arms around him, twisting so he can rest against you better.

You'd hugged Levi all of once before, out of joy for some massive achievement that took all of you forever to get. You remember the feeling of that first embrace better than whatever the hell it was you were celebrating.

The smell of his crips cologne rises to meet you, along with laundry detergent and...lavender?

Levi flopped down atop the covers and pulled you with him, leaving you facing each other so he could wrap his arms around you and hide his face in your chest.

You hummed happily, relishing the rare display of affection, guiltily realising how much you needed this as you drew random shapes on his back, your heart fluttering in your chest as his breath fanned your skin.

Minutes rolled by in silence, and it was Levi who broke it.

"You're good at this."

You smiled, smoothing your hand down his back. "I like hugs."

"I know, touchy brat."

With a huff, you swatted his back playfully. "Who you callin' a brat, mister?"

Levi chuckled quietly, you felt it against your chest. "You're enjoying this."

"Yeah well, I don't get to hug you very often, Mr. Manly Man." You jested, but you were only half joking. You'd held back for his sake, and you'd continue to do so, for him, but you did love a good hug.

Levi was silent for another long moment, his eyes rolled shut as you tangled your legs with his, letting himself just be held, be warm and comfortable in the closeness of someone he loved.

The next morning, he left your with a hug and a kiss that lingered just a little longer, and when he came home, he walked straight into your arms.

Not a word needed to be said, not when you can feel his body relaxing completely as soon as he hides his face against you.