#so tell me if they sound good!

[evercelle]

2024 art summary! it sure has been a year

[teddybeartoji]

it's not often you get to see a sleepy suguru.

it's not like he's not tired – he's fucking exhausted; the dreams just don't seem to like him all that much. but he's usually toughing it out, trying to seem as composed and put-together as possible. the dark skin underneath his eyes betray him, though.

so you don't really know why today is different. is he just more tired? have all of the sleepless hours caught up with him? or is it just you; could it be that your body is the most comfortable place to rest his heavy head? or is it your perfume that's soothing him to sleep?

or is it the fingers in his hair?

he doesn't really let others play with his hair too ofter either. satoru and shoko had been the only exceptions but that was before you came along. satoru uses his hair as a stim, something to play with when he's bored. suguru has taught him manners though – a few slaps against satoru's fingers and chest to remind him to be more careful. and shoko is just more likely to brush a strand from his eyes or help him tie them up in a half-assed bun whenever his own hands are full with whatever.

you like playing with hair, always have and always will. it's relaxing and it's fun and it's calming and you love it. when you first met suguru, his hair was the second thing you noticed about him (his keen purple eyes being the first). an irresistible itch burned in your fingertips everytime you saw him, everytime he wore his hair down. it just looked so pretty and soft.

he takes very good care of his hair, you know that much. specific shampoos and conditioners, masks and all – he's all in. and nobody bats an eye. not that they should but satoru definitely gets made fun of because of his stupidly expensive collection of figurines and shoko gets teased for her silly mug shelf – and yet, neither of them ever comment on the bottles and tubs of fancy products that lay on his bathroom counter.

his hair also smells good. the compliment always hangs on the tip of your tongue but stays hidden in fear of coming off too weird. too creepy. but he doesn smell good. even with closed eyes and ears and you'd find him in a crowd. you wonder whether he knows that.

as you grew closer and closer, the now scorching itch only doubled in need. you never did gather the strenght to outwardly ask him – if you could play with his hair? if you could caress it? comb through it? it was an accident.

a simple gloomy friday afternoon: you're both lazing on your couch, staring at the screen. it's funny – you find yourself muffling your already quiet bursts of laughter, suguru alongside you. he's sitting close by, closer than usual. you don't ask him about it.

he asked to come over; something-something about being sick of his own apartment. you understand that, so you tell him that your home is his home (you'd tell him that even if you didn't understand). you hear the faint smile when he thanks you over the phone.

even when he looks like he hasn't slept in months – he looks good. you can tell he's overexaggerating his smile a bit but don't say anything about it, rewarding him with a grin of your own. his eyes flick to your lips and how they curve and he thinks about how warm it feels to look at you. maybe he's not exaggerating anymore.

your arms open wide, inviting him into you and he obliges, as always. he smells good. as always.

his hands lock behind your back and your behind his neck. your hearts meet and they greet each other with a fastened beat, eager to be in sync – to feel each other again.

he pulls back and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. he's not doing it anymore and you're happy to relieve him even if it's for mere moments.

he's wearing a sweather and his hair is down. he has lip gloss on; you try to think whether he's more of a mint guy or more of a shea guy. it remains a mystery.

and now you're on the couch with two cups of warm tea waiting for you on the small table. he smells good. he's so close. he snickers at the screen and you can't take your eyes off of him. it's the same small crinkle of the eyes and the faintest pink tint on his cheeks.

you know he knows that you're looking at him. you've been told to have a staring problem and he's just an observant guy. it's a terrible match. or a perfect one.

he doesn't say anything though; instead he leans his head back and little to the side against the headrest (he's even closer now) and you find yourself shifting an inch aswell. perhaps magnets are involved? the iron in your blood pulling you together?

no, that can't be. you'd have to be polar opposites for that to work. warm-blooded and cold-blooded? would that work? you're getting too poetic and he's looking at you now.

it's an accident. it slips out on its own. you smell good. caught off guard by your own comment, you're about to apologize when a hand on your thigh almost makes you suffocate on the words stuck in your throat.

he laughs and it feels so good. he thanks you. he means it, you see it in his tired eyes. he likes the way you blush.

turning his focus back to the tv, you try to collect yourself. a deep breath in and a deep one out and a deep one in and a de—

a weight on your shoulder. he smells so good. he's so close. you peek down, curious as to whether this is a dream or not. but suguru's head is in fact laid on your body, sinking a bit more into you by the second. a deep breath in and a deep one out.

seeking for a more comfortable position, you snuggle closer to him. it's hard to focus but you're making it your sole mission to make him feel safe. your arm curls around his body, his shoulder, and rests right by a flock of his hair.

his cheek is now smushed against the top of your chest and the weight of love doesn't seem as bad as everyone keeps telling you. his hand finds a place around your waist; loosely – as if he's the one who's afraid to scare you off. silly.

his breath against you feels right and the butterflies in your stomach refuse to calm down. so you do what you always do when you get nervous – completely on their own, your fingers caress his hair. just smoothing over it at first but before you know it, they're combing through a strand and twirling the ends between themselves.

you wanna apologize, again, but the soft little grunt that emits from the man keeps you from doing so.

don't stop.

+ this is for @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat just bc it feels right

[royalarchivist]

Mine: Refer to me however you want!

Mike: Yeah, for me too. I think I use all pronouns too.

[They high-five and fist-bump each other]

Mine:

[via @barbmine]

[hasellia]

[okiedojie25]

This tweet makes me feel things, and I don’t know how to process it

[cheriboms]

spirit boys 🤝 hats

[jedi-starbird]

My Feemor proposal

A popular headcanon for Feemor is that he's a Jedi Shadow. Shadows are spies and basically detectives. Feemor's lineage has a reputation for being eccentric, infamous, and finding trouble everywhere they go. So, walk with me here, Feemor's an eccentric, famous, blonde detective.

This is Feemor.

[cozylittleartblog]

me omw to scare mormons out of a wendys!! 🍂🖤🍟

ootd from like 2 weeks ago and yes that really happened

[deoidesign]

Time and Time Again comes back tonight!

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it was a long hiatus.

My health was struggling, my arm was (is) hurting, and I decided it wasn't worth it. I'd rather be slow!

So thank you for giving me that grace, and I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the series.

[fireheartwraith]

While Sonic felt an immediate spark of attraction towards Shadow, it wasn't love. Not even close. It was curiosity, with potential for something more, but he didn't think much of it. Shadow was an enemy he had to beat, after all, and Sonic had a mission to complete, friends to help, a world to save. You know how it is.

Shadow didn't feel anything towards Sonic at first except annoyance. Sonic wasn't strong enough to be acknowledged as a proper rival. The most special thing about him was that he, too, was a hedgehog, but Shadow is the best one anyway, so why bother thinking about it further? Shadow had a mission to accomplish, a promise to keep, and a friend to avenge.

But, despite all of this, something about Sonic gets him to stop. Was it his words or something else? Shadow is not sure, but suddenly he's sitting on the Moon watching the sunrise over Earth and he is reminded of another person sitting next to him watching these same stars. For a moment, he thinks he hears the phantom of Her voice next to him. He looks over, and there stands Sonic, smiling softly and reaching his hand out to him despite everything he's done. Shadow feels a warmth surging up from inside him and knows that his heart didn't die with Her because he can feel it beating faster than it ever did in over fifty years.

Shadow falls hard, he falls fast, and he falls with his entire being.

It's a while until the two meet again, but his heart still beats just as hard as it did that day. Not a fluke, then. He doesn’t let his emotions show but, against his better judgement, they keep meeting up and teaming up. Growing closer. Until one day not even Shadow can deny that they are friends.

And Sonic loves all his friends. Of course he does! That's the type of guy he is. So he still thinks nothing of how happy catching Shadow's eyes make him. How a brush of hands can make his stomach flutter. How his eyes linger more than they should. It goes on like this until he has the sudden urge to kiss him.

The thought catches him off guard at first, but when he examines his feelings a bit more closely... he's in love with Shadow, isn't he? He doesn’t know when this happened, but he knows it's true. He looks back at Shadow — who is asking him if he's acting more dumb than usual because he hit his head too hard (idiot. Sonic can hear the masked concern in his voice, and it brings butterflies to his stomach) — and that thought comes again, just as loud as the first time. "I want to kiss him".

And so, Sonic does.

It's awkward at first, and things are not easy, but it all works out in the end. Because Sonic may have fallen in love gradually, bit by bit, so naturally he didn't even notice until his love snuck up on him, but Shadow's love hit him all at once, and he will never let go of it.

[shotmrmiller]

That SD!Simon who took a one night stand would have me accepting a babysitting job across the city. The that requires Reader to stay with the kids for a week cause the parents need the vacation. Maybe, possibly meeting someone from that side and 👀

i hear that LOUD AND CLEAR. LIKE GLASS.

listen i ooooooh i would be reaching out to my toxic but great lay ex like pull up neoooowww

gotta have him being a big gross grump who takes care of his own kid now. stop knocking on our door asking how much formula she takes read the can brother

naw i'd be hella moving on. catch me firmly setting lines he cannot and will not cross. no i don't give a damn how tired you are, get your baby and go back to your own flat. no i cannot watch your child mr. riley im gonna have a guy over and you will not interrupt my date with him.

girllll (gn) i'd be howling like a cat in heat during sex too js.

[the-meme-monarch]

i love extrapolating on implied interactions to the point where it is thoroughly made up

if you ship scc go away please 👍

[marauderswolf22]

what about au WHERE SIRIUS WORKS IN A DOG SHELTER AND REMUS HAS SOME TRAUMA WITH WOLVES/DOGS (or both) AND FOR THERAPEUTICAL REASONS HE GOES THERE AS A VOLOUNTEER AND THEY FALL IN LOVEEEEEE

[hanzajesthanza]

i always find it nice how geralt and vilgefortz, as representatives of good and evil, experienced similar circumstances and their good and evil are only the results of how they chose to deal with and respond to those circumstances

but also

[corsairspade]

Halenthir scenario where they get married for tax benefits (in a platonic good friends sort of way) and fall in love long distance via sending each other letters with ideas on how to best leverage their marriage for tax evasion.

[bookinit02]

my application for hot girl halloween: