#please dont let it flop....

[stc019]

I LOVE Kiki teasing Namari, they're so fucking cool 😭💖💖💖 Namari wishes she could match Kiki's freak...... 😌✨

Based on this tweet!

[rumarot]

cyklus / cycle

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x03 - “Finally Got The Name Right” ↳ "You must declare martial law. Appoint a general to lead until this threat has been vanquished. Someone who will not pale when faced with Zaun's degeneracy. Whose conviction never wavers. A pillar of your community whose house has always stood for progress. Who may consider my experience and my entire detachment of Noxian soldiers at their disposal. Until all our families are safe. Of course, I could only be referring to..."

[kaiser1ns]

When you first started dating Michael Kaiser, you knew you were in for a dramatic play with sprinkles of romance and comedy. He sees the world as his stage, where everyone else plays a mere supporting role. Arrogant and slyly dismissive of most people, but with you, he's not unnecessarily rude, and you quickly find yourself accepting those characteristics that make him… him. Your boyfriend is usually softer with you—but not today.

This morning, though, is one of those days where his mood isn’t exactly warm and welcoming. He wakes up grumpy, burying himself deeper under the blankets, eyes squeezed shut, clearly reluctant to face the world—mostly to avoid the sight of his wild bed hair in the mirror. To you, he looks like a little angry kitten, albeit one with claws.

“You’re going to have to get up eventually, you know…” you say, already up and stretching. He groans in response, and you know it means Leave me alone, I want to sleep. But you’re not giving up that easily. As you step toward the window to open the curtains, something soft hits your back and drops to the floor—a pillow.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and rough from sleep. “Meine Liebe.” The way he says it—both affectionate and unmistakably annoyed when he adds the nickname.

“Don’t even think about lying in bed all day,” you retort, perching on the edge of the bed beside him. Gently, you trace the tattoo on his arm, adding, “Michael Kaiser.” If he were more awake, he’d probably argue back, teasing you just to get a reaction. But right now, he’s too tired even for that. Instead, he just reaches over, pulling you back onto the bed beside him. You tense for a moment, then give in as he wraps his arms around you.

Maybe today, giving in to his whims wouldn’t be so bad. Snuggling into his warmth, you close your eyes, letting his embrace lull you back toward sleep. You’ll both get up eventually…but right now, staying here feels just perfect.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[discarded-replica]

Ninja! :3

New ninja

[localratwithcowboyhat]

Oh wont you be my penecea? (Tap for better quality)

[wolfintestinez]

original script adam is me more than anyone will ever know i swear.. anyways actual art piece ??? insane

[riuuneon]

You're not perfect. That's okay.

You still have every right to see the world, and to let the world see you.

alt version under cut

screenless/headless version (because yes that's my interpretation of greenscreen LMAO)

[venus-rivers]

hey guys guess who got into pressure

i love sebatian man hes so annoying. him and gabriel are complete opposites yet two sides of the same coin and i love them

i drew this btw cus i showed my friend sebastians file and she said "hes trans with extra steps" so i drew him with blahaj

[gothghostiie]

HOWEVER. this 100% has been done before but

cod restaurant au. they're loving their restaurant with a passion, they love their guests with a passion, and when something as gorgeous as you rocks in, how could they not celebrate?

soap is the waiter that's just a little too friendly and flirty, always a bit too touchy with pretty things like you, hands wherever they can reach without making it too obvious. definitely got in trouble with husbands (and wives) before.

gaz is the Barkeeper, always witty with a charming grin on his face, always showing off his latest tricks while making sure you get a drink "as perfect as yourself". does a straw taste and winks at you when he pushes the glass ober to you, he knows what he's doing.

ghost is a little harder to tell, but I think he'd be security. making sure no one gets into trouble, and if they do that they're escorted nice and quietly. definitely escorts you back to your car, whether you need it or not. how could he ever forgive himself if something happened, hm?

Price is the chef, making sure everything goes his way back there, making his rounds through the restaurant every now and then, especially when he sees you sitting out there. he's gotta make sure you enjoy his food before you can enjoy him, no?

[nicolloyd]

some post crystallized lloyd and rumi..

they make me sick to my stomach

[sapphlopods]

[OC] what could they be doing at the shoal?

[fish3s]

every lab has a derelict room

(aka scientist’s lament)

~details:

[k9emote]

Shit ton of laugh / giggle emotes. my god Animated & static

[flebdoodle]

They mean so much to me Crackcherry Mountain Magicians my beloveds

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Rewrite the ending

-Just once, let him rewrite the story; Just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.

Paring◦ felix x mommy issues!reader

Genre ◦ smut with pain

Warnings ◦ The reader is described as having mommy issues though the argument is very brief so it can connect with more people, angst, talk about knives, PIV sex, CONSENT, ngl this is just some passionate lovemaking, tears during sex, references to the princess bride the greatest love story of all time I will die on this hill,

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr, @velvetmoonlght

A/N ◦ This is literally a story solely based on an experience I just had with my mother and needed something to comfort me while I have a mental breakdown 😃 also if you liked this man I have mommy issues I severely need reassurance 😭

can somebody please tell me if this is convoluted because I tried to make it poetic but I don't know if I just made it messy. THANK YOU.

Soundtrack ◦ Family Line by Conan Grey, Cover me by Stray Kids

~cookiecreates 🍪

The screen flickers off.

The velvet curtains close.

The world fades to black.

The End

Your ribs crack open, heavy sobs echoing through the gaps of your unfolded bones. Your hands make purchase around your shredded soul, the warm liquid of your sorrows trickling through your splayed fingers like the shadow's phantom finger tracing the lines of your melancholy, dusting over the hill of your cheeks. 

One more time.

Just one more time.

You rewind the tape-

The velvet curtains stutter open.

The screen flashes white.

Just one more time.

How many times could you watch the same movie before you realized the ending would never change?

You rewind the tape-

How many times could you lick her love off the edge of a knife before you realize the blade will never dull?

You slide the tip across your tongue-

Just one more time.

Please.

Just pretend to love me one more time.

"For once, can you admit that you're wrong?" you snap, attempting to steady your rising voice. 

You've been arguing with your mother for centuries, your breath grating across your throat like grains of sharpened sand. Talking to her was like bouncing wisdom off a wall; it will only ever come to bite you in the ass-

"I did what I had to do to teach you discipline; you were unruly-"

or punch you in the face.

"I was nine!" you shout, a weak and wounded cry. "Nine!"

How could she not see that?

"I did it because I loved you."

She rips your heart out of your chest, only to dust a gentle finger underneath the curve of your jaw; her sweet smile coaxes your lips open; she was your mother, and yet, with a wicked gaze, she draws her fingers together—you choke, a thick river of blood flows onto your tongue like a bitter stream of a thousand broken promises.

There was so much you wanted to say to her.

"Maybe you should reevaluate your definition of love."

"Maybe you should have just been a better daughter."

"Only she could spread sugar across your skin before feeding your soul to the ants."

The signal of an ended call rings through your ears as the world fades to black.

The velvet curtains close.

The screen flickers off.

The movie sputters to a stop.

The End

All you wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

All you have ever wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

You are far too entranced with the stillness of your spine to hear the door creak open, Felix’s hesitant footsteps carefully creep closer. It is only when he mumbles a soft, saturnine "sweetheart" that you finally feel something-

"How did it go?" Felix believed the strings of your souls were so intertwined, the two of you experienced emotions the way an instrument feels the thrum of a cord; but as your heart pumps with an intangible amount of anguish, maybe even for you, some feelings were simply too subjective to share.

It is only when your heart has been crushed by fingers made of feathers do you start caring a lot less about the hands made of knives.

How desperately he wishes he was a human with hinges, where he may unscrew his soul and allow your eyes to gaze upon his walls, with the knowledge that they were only ever painted with the thought of you.

He would not hurt you-

Please, collapse into him, just once-

Let him prove that you will never have to fall again-

Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, your hand chases his touch, a million different uncompleted sentences dissipating as soon as your skin connects; your fingers beg, hold me, even as your mouth shutters shut, dusty rivulets cascading across your cheeks like the desert's silky sand.

You were empty.

so, so, very empty-

Felix's soothing hands lock underneath the bend of your knees, pulling you into his warm embrace with a rush of unregistered movements.

You rewind the tape.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to not constantly live with the echo of a hollow soul.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to hear something other than a deafening crescendo of pure contempt.

Just one more time.

"Please," you have lived so much of your life caught in a perpetual state of emptiness, for once, you wanted to remember what your body was like before your mother bore you with the heavy burden of broken wings.

"Touch me," you shove the palm of his hand into your core, pleading with so much of your soul none left to protest. He gasps into your mouth, his face scrawled with worry, the etch of a million different fears drawn into the deep lines of his forehead.

Just once

Let him rewind the film

Just once

You will never have to watch the same ending again.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Though his words are unsure, his actions tell a different story; tender hands massage the length of your thighs, reluctantly begging you to open up, to unfold your deformed ribs, where he will fill your hollow bones with the type of love you have only ever yearned for.

Just once.

"I need you."

You need him more than you need your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe; you need him more than you need the birds, the bees, the ground, the trees—

He lays you upon the silken sheets with such soulful kindness that your glassy eyes almost break; his heart thrums with the promise of I love you and the vow of I'll make you fly. His hand dips into the band of your shorts, pleasure peeking out from the shadows of your mind, only ever bobbing its head long enough to fill your skin with a minute tingling sensation—like running your hands under hot water after a long day in the snow, but it was not enough.

"I need you," you gasp into his mouth, his throat desperately sucking the sound in. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his features stricken with a sudden tightness, a burdened tonnage; you were handing him your heart with the hope his hands weren't made of blades, and the idea of the utter trust you have put in him to do that makes his stomach flip.

Just once—

He will prove it all to you.

"As you wish," nostalgia flutters in your veins as you reminisce the sentence pulled straight from the greatest love story ever told. His nose nudges the column of your throat as he presses a peck on your flesh, drifting his arms down to unceremoniously pull off his pants.

Even with such a simple act, he makes the effort to remind you that he is here.

He takes his time removing your clothes, fingers sliding across your skin with a delicate intimacy, a tender reverence; his lips trace the lines of your seams until your very atoms are etched with his name.

I hate her

I love you

I love you

I love you

He coupled every leak of anger with a river of love, kissing your limbs until all your body could remember was the pureness of his ardor.

"Are you ready?" he whispers against your skin, lining himself with your entrance, all he needs is a word to finally sink himself in. Your eyes are glassy, gazing up at him with such an unadulterated passion, a pure amount of pain—this will tear you apart, and he promises with every fiber of his being, he will put you back together.

"Yes." You have lived most of your life with the heavy burden of a body’s broken wings, and it isn't until Felix’s crafted hands finally crease your ribs that you realize origami can only emerge when you fold it up, the way a bird can only fly when it falls.

You are an amalgamation; so much of your soul is lost in his lips you don't know where he begins and you end, but when a rush of pleasure tingles up your spine, you don't care.

The world is tangled somewhere on the edge of in-between space and time, melding together into a mushy, gushy substance that slips through your fingers as they lace in his raven locks. You pour all your pain into the slit of his lips, where he sucks in every drop, leaving no room for your protests.

You were both overcome with a flood of delicate feelings—the passion that surged with the twists of your heartbeats began to be too much to bear; as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours, you cry out, chasing the edge of a daydream. So close, so close, so—his lips taste like I love you and his tears like I'm here. You can only hear the crash of your soul shattering before his ginger fingers sew you back together.

The juxtaposition of that orgasm was astounding.

You both slam down into the earth at the same time, holding each other's tired bodies as the ground swallows you up.

His arms lock around your head, quivering as he struggles to hold himself up, droplets of tears land on your cheeks as they dip down the slope of his nose. He was so perfect-

so, so, very perfect.

Your mouth raises to kiss a tear clinging to the tip of his nose. He chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. You both are thrumming with tension, overflowing with emotion; before you can even blink, he is pulling you to his chest, naked and sticky, he holds you closer than you have ever been.

It is through the tears of others that we remember we are alive.

Just one more time.

Rewind the tape and let him kiss your shattering soul with the knowledge that has already rewritten the ending.

Just once-

Collapse into him.

Let him prove that this story really is—

The End  

©CookieCreates (posted: August, 12th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

~cookiecreates 🍪