#hopefully 😩

[zankydraws]

am I right fellas

[oschonseleven]

love final fantasy fourteen

would love to play it someday

[choccy-milky]

omianne wip from over a year ago that ill never properly finish (redraw of 'the other father' by mac conner)

[mermmarie]

Just a fun game of

Bas-kei-ball

[softgothbabe]

My cousin's wedding was so lovely 🥹

[pinkyjulien]

━ Halsin 🐻

[lady-harrowhark]

my 4.5 year covid-free streak has officially ended 😔

[bao-dur]

kalcifiera, half-drow circle of spore druid

[h0estar]

[leqclerc]

Charles and Seb: the crackvid™

[mrsoharaa]

₊ ⋆ 𝔏𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 ⊹ ₊

characters; Vampire! Kento Nanami x Reader

cw; blood sucking/draining, slightly suggestive (not much, but tentatively descriptive to the point of lmao), Nanami being...well, Nanami 😩🥴)

a/n; this one's for you pookie @lazyjellyfish300 😘🫶🏼 expect more of Vampire! Nanami soon sometime later down the spooky road! 👀😩🫶🏼🤞🏼

The intensity and tender that pooled in those dark, polished irises of deep hazel wavered with something much more then just a hinder taste of your candid blood and carnal lust. A flicker of infatuation and craving for your touch, your admiration - your affections, made the sweet, gentle polite blonde vampire yearn for you that much more.

The subtle touch on your arm rises slightly, plush, cold lips softly grazes against the lump of your knuckles, gradually mulling over beneath the underside of your delicate wrist. Cool breaths fan across the delicate skin as he rakes over the tender valley with smooth aspiration.

Eyes that fill with such need and drive, starring directly into your own dilated pupils with a weight of ambition and devotion. The sound of your puttering heart practically reverberating vividly through his ears, the titillating taste of your pumping blood just inches away from his hungry lips, practically delving deep into his anxious tongue. He insinuates a low, inaudible groan, only blinking once before giving your soft wrist and pliable kiss. The sound of your accelerating heartbeat only driving his thirst and will that much more.

Uses his free hand to carefully roll up the sleeves of your satiny dress up to your forearms, painting his beautiful lips over the subtle skin of your wrist. Wallowing in the lingering syrupy scent of your dainty perfume coating over your perfect flesh, mixed with the intoxicating natural aroma of your lulling body.

Hums in a steady baritone, a satisfied purr rumbling against his solid chest, protracts his pearly piercing fangs and delicately pinches into the delightful skin of your wrist. The sudden rush of euphoria and overwhelming bliss surging all through his throbbing body.

Grumbles softly as he feels your body jerk to his sudden intrusion into your silken skin, slips his left hand down to the lower part of your back to press you closer to his firm, sturdy body. His supple mouth still latched onto your sweet skin, melding himself into a deep state of mind warping pleasure and erratic fulfillment of desire and intoxication. Drowning himself in the deep endless abyss of sheer gratification and hunger.

The sting in his bite rushes through you in waves of searing heat and numbness, your body instantaneously numbing into his every touch, mind melting into a foggy haze. Nothing but a hot pulse of pain and drowsiness swarming all over your body, little breathy gasps slip off past your tied tongue as you fall limp into his hovering weight. Allowing this alluring creature to devour you whole.

[spiderin-space]

Even after they both ascend, some things never change 😩😩

[beif0ngs]

Gigante Fleur!

[trailandkale]

maybe if I run enough all my problems will disappear and everything will be okay

august miles here I come look out it’s gonna be a busy month

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Bought myself the last Zayne pose I needed from the chocolate shop and thought it would look nice as a dark edit for Dawnbreaker and I was not disappointed 🥲

Also I made this one my phone bg and it looks like he's coming in to brush the snow off my hair and I just

[stevebabey]

❤️🔥 hiiiii!! here to request a number 23 from prompt list 1: “fumbling with their hand as you tell a story.” i feel like you’d make it so soft and sweet <3

can u tell i was feeling so bad when i started writing this <3 nothing bout this prompt says angst but low nd behold, here's some hurt/comfort !! thank u for requesting alice m'dear :") this is like extra for u considering how sweet u are to me <33 1k+

It’s terribly late.

Really, the both of you should’ve wandered upstairs to bed at least an hour ago. There’s work tomorrow, early for you, less so for Steve, but it’s work all the same. He’ll grumble in the morning like he always does, tired and yawning all through his morning coffee.

Despite knowing this, Steve doesn’t even think of suggesting to turn in soon. Not when it’s one of these nights. 

Sometimes, Steve finds it takes gentle coaxing to get you to unwind from your day. When you spend so much of the day tense, reining in reactions and biting your tongue, he knows it takes more time, more touch. It’s worth losing the sleep, staying up to talk it out. Worth it to know he’s giving you peace of mind. That he can protect you from even restless nights.

Most of the time, you won’t even realise you’re wound up — it’s impossible to sift through feelings when all you feel is down. It’s not until after Steve’s worked his magic that you can tell how long the day has really been. When the stress leaks out of your shoulders and you slump into him like a puppet with its strings cut.

It’s one of those nights tonight.

You’re up on the kitchen counter. How you ended up there is lost in the haze of your tired night. You faintly recall tumbling through the door, somehow after Steve even though you started work before him. Overtime is a bitch.

Between then and now, you’re certain you’ve managed to shovel some food into you but mainly, you’ve been watching Steve fuss about the kitchen. To you, there’s no better remedy that the sight of your lover.

He’d already made dinner by the time you’d gotten in the door, some simple pasta dish, cheesy and delicious. He’d insisted on doing the cleaning up as well, seeing your low-lidded eyes and curled in shoulders. The fatigue rolls off you in waves. It makes Steve’s heart ache in an awful way.

So, he had kissed you sweet and ushered you up onto the counter, his warm hands helping under your thighs when you’d groaned and barely made a move to jump up. He mumbled something soft into your hair, ‘my tired, sweet girl’, and sealed it in with a kiss.

It had been soothing just to watch him, sleeves rolled up while he scrubbed at the soapy dishes. Rinsing the plates and working instinctively, letting the story about his own day come out in quiet rumbles, just letting you listen. You hum from time from time to let him know you’re listening, even if you feel a bit hollow.

But now, dishes done, Steve’s onto his most important job — drawing out the burdens of the day from his you. The cups of tea he’s fixed for both of you are beside you on the counter, long forgotten. Steam stains the air, just a hint of peppermint. 

Steve’s moved between your legs, hips leaning against the counter. He’s close enough that an inch forward and your head would rest against his collarbones. One hand sits on your knee, feather-light touches of his thumb against your skin. The other is held between yours, letting you fumble with it as you talk. Your hands work his fingers, playing with it idly as you talk.

“Yeah? And what’d she say?” He asks, voice low and head tilted to show he’s listening. 

“Y’know, just the usual. It wasn’t what she said, just like,” You sigh wearily, drawing a line down the middle of Steve’s palm with your finger. Your eyes stay fixed on your motions, his hand in your own. Your voice is smaller than you intend as you try to recall the rude memory of your manager today. “The way she said it? I don’t know, does that even make sense?”

“It does,” Steve assures, his hand giving your knee a quick squeeze. When your head remains bowed, still fiddling with his hand, Steve flips it over, his hand covering both yours to still your fidgeting.

“Hey,” He says, soft. His head ducks low, trying to catch your eyes. It’s alarming to see a sheen in them, glossy in a way he knows means tears. Something tears in his heart, his concern doubling in an instant. “Sweetheart, woah, woah, hey.”

You let out a pathetic sniffle and that’s all it takes for Steve’s instincts to kick in, pulling his hand out of your grip to bundle you into his arms. You cave, crumbling into his chest and burying your face away — one of his hands cradles the back of your head, loving strokes along your scalp. The other provides consoling sweeps along the curve of your spine. It all really just makes you want to cry harder.

“S’okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. It’s warmth seeps into your skin, a silent comfort through your tears. "It's okay, honey."

It feels so utterly stupid to fall apart over something so little, just a bad day that’s crept under your skin, made its home in your nerves. It feels unbearable, trying to unwork it from your blood. You’re not sure how long you cry, just that Steve’s there the whole time.

When you finally pull back, shuddering breaths, Steve’s fingers make quick work to wipe your tears. Calloused fingertips that sweep across your under-eyes, tender and kind.

There’s a light kiss against your forehead, another against your damp cheek, gentle as ever. Steve doesn’t speak, his eyes just searching your face — though you can’t tell what he’s looking for. You’re too dead tired, exhausted by your own emotions, to give any semblance of a smile, even though you feel a bit better now.

“Bed now?” He suggests, voice soft and low. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the lull of words, a reminder of how long ago you both should’ve been asleep. You nod, pitiful and small. Steve trails the both of you upstairs, sets out your pajamas while you brush your teeth, then waits in the bathroom doorway til you’re done.

It’s close to midnight when you both finally crawl into bed. Steve’s arms are around you the moment you’re beside him and you find immense comfort with your head against his chest. The echo of his heartbeat plays like a lullaby beneath your ear.

“Sorry for keepin’ you up.” You whisper in the dark.

Steve’s arms tighten around you. He shifts around for a moment, then his hand sweeps back the hair off your forehead, and he gives a soft kiss there. It lingers for a few seconds, and when he pulls back, he snuggles closer, resting his cheek atop of your head.

“M’sorry you had a bad day.” He counters. You know he means it completely.

“I love you,” the words slur a bit, feeling yourself already dropping off closer to sleep. It’s impossible not to when you’re this warm and this damn tired.

You’re asleep before you hear his response but it doesn’t matter, you heard it in every kiss, know it from every sweet gesture and moment of the evening. He loves you, and he takes care of you. The sleep is a peaceful one.