#this is cavity inducing

[whatstheoccasion]

"You are the rock on which I stand, Steady me, please take my hand, Hold me now until the break of day."

— Charles Wiles.

Pirates don't help people, he used to spit. I was not born into this world to help anyone.

Yet, as the fabric of your shirt softly shifts up your skin making you shiver, Law finds himself unable to stop the hand raising his blanket, keeping you warm.

You're not just people, though, he poorly excuses himself. You're more than just anyone to him.

Which is why he pretends to not notice how clingy you get when the sun's barely peeking through the windows, warm and bright enough to make out the shape of your face, features he awkwardly traces with the tip of his fingers, finding himself needing the intimacy, this closeness with you.

He cherishes these slight pieces of yourself you only show him. Asleep, vulnerable and soft to the touch, trusting this callous man to keep your dreams safe, Law has to bite his tongue to hold himself from repeating the same three little words to you like a fool.

He chastises himself for even thinking about it.

And then you start to wake up, with bloated cheeks and messy hair, your eyes still fighting sleep, and God, it's useless, Law thinks. It's an urge too hard to resist– but he refuses to say it out loud. He's content with protecting you as it is, tightening his blanket around you and trying to fix your hair.

Will it be too much for you, he wonders, impatiently waiting for your eyes to fully open, if he physically gives you his heart to keep, to protect?

"Law?"

You shove your face further down his neck, eyes scrunching in a tender way that makes Law's hands clench and unclench with the need to touch.

He hums low on his chest in response, bringing your body closer to his. When you don't continue, eyes closing again, he grumbles out, "Morning."

He feels your smile on his neck, one sleepy kiss pressed against it. "Good morning, love."

It hurts.

Up to this day, Law's guilt clenches with a vice-like grip around his chest, reminding him how he doesn't deserve this warmth, this forgiveness you give him.

It's a hole his heart still aches to fill– this disgusting need for affection, a need he can't allow himself to ask for out loud, but one he desperately looks for anyways.

When you're out and about on a new island, linking pinkies and pressing your side against his, teasing him for his pink cheeks and burning glare.

Aflot in the Polar Bear, dragging his tired self up deck to get some much needed sun in his system, his palms tingling where your hands held him.

On nights he's blessed with your pleasure, where he's insatiable until he makes you his– unsatisfied until every part of you is marked with his name, his traces.

So when you pull him closer to you now, he doesn't say a word. He doesn't tease you like he would any other day, doesn't call you out on how your body seems to always gravitate towards his– today he's not sure if his good intentions would come clear enough, and what if one last remark is what pushes you to finally leave him for good?

Law instinctively holds you closer, letting your body soothe his restless mind. You're here. You're staying. You love him.

You hug him even tighter in your sleep, entwining your legs together, impossibly closer to eachother. He's usually not positive for anything, but you're for sure a gift from his loved ones up above, because only those who cared for him enough could guide you to him.

He has one final thought before dozing off again, as the tiny fluttering of your eyelashes on his skin and the slight rise from the waves of the New World lull him to sleep, carrying so much fondness he doesn't even put up a fight when his eyes start to drop.

His heart is staying right where it belongs.

[thealpacaavenger]

The girls are fighting.

this is my first animatic in a hot second! And I think the first one I’ve posted here?

[dustykneed]

pietà (*major spoilers for st:id! death cw!*) full image below additional spacer.

i like to think that aos bones has an interesting relationship with parenthood...

especially pertaining to his relationship with jim. not that he sees jim as his son, necessarily (i don't think they're deliberately portrayed that way in canon, nor do i headcanon them like that, but honestly fandom is fun because we all have fun in our sandbox, so if anyone happens to see them that way, neat!)

but when you're a parent, and at the same time a parent friend, it's easy to take the path of least resistance when it comes to defining the undefinable relationship you have with this guy you can't seem to live without.

is he your captain? your best friend? your patient? a command prodigy and a tactical genius? a sight for sore eyes? your personal nuisance? the one and only person you can't seem to get rid of, who drags you places you hate and points out everything beautiful to you and beams like he won the lottery when you can't help but grin just a little, who brings the light back into places you forgot could be lit up like the dawn, who saw you at your worst while actively at his own worst, and plopped his fool ass down and decided you were worth fighting for?

and that's a lot of things. especially many when you're fighting tooth and nail to keep his scrap-happy ass intact and also keep an eye on a whole starshipful of people. it's a lot easier to stick to what you know-- whatever is the least risky, the safest option, one that could never possibly backfire and bite you in the ass. sometimes you forget he could see you as anything other than a parent (give or take the friend.) but parenthood goes hand in hand with grief. parenthood has its own set of burdens. but it's easy to put yourself in that box and pretend to forget about all the other boxes, collecting dust in the closet, and sometimes he prods at the closet door with something pleading in his eyes. you pretend not to see that, either.

...you don't take it well, when he dies.

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

Not mine, but it made me like bucktommy more

[bigdsgirl]

Kim Ji-uk said that is my ring and I want it (and you) back!!

[cephalog0d]

Batkid Drabble - "Immobile"

((Reverse Robins AU. Ages: Dick - 8, Steph - 17, Damian - 23))

"Do you need rescued?" Steph asked.

"It's fine," Damian said. He was sitting bent forward at a sharp angle, elbows propped on his knees for support, and had been for the last twenty minutes without moving, which was roughly how long Dick had been asleep where his dramatic aerial attack had landed him, wedged between Damian's back and the couch.

It was not, admittedly, the most ergonomic position, and Damian was pretty sure he had a drool spot on his shoulder, but he hadn't had the heart to move yet.

Although Steph obnoxiously taking pictures was making him strongly reconsider...

((For @dangerousdan-dan because the idea was too cute not to.

Also on AO3))

[delta-pavonis]

Fic: there were no secrets in his fingertips

Dreamling (human AU) || Rated E || 7k words || complete

Alternate Universe (human), discussion of prior cheating, age difference (7-10 years), proDom Dream, Dom/sub, sub Hob Gadling, dom Dream, collared Hob, established D/s relationship, Endless family dynamics (only Night and Time are dipshits), Hob and Dream after you might be the answer to the sinner in me, annual Endless family holiday party, Dream's horrifying laughter, Dream is a very jealous and possessive lover, Dream grappling with his feelings, anal plug, extended anal plug use, anal sex, rough sex, rugburn, marking kink, color system, forcing lover's face into their cum, discovering a new kink, minor bit of painplay, extremely fluffy ending, tooth-rotting fluffy ending, ending so sweet it would dissolve if a raccoon tried to wash it in a stream

Sequel to you might be the answer to the sinner in me and you have to read that first or this is like nineteen different kinds of spoilers for that. Also references events in my mona lisa, so helpful to have read that, but not necessary.

The silence was broken as Epithumia–better known as Desire and the sibling who Dream has had the most contentious relationship with as of late–squealed and broke into ecstatic giggles. They flung themselves at Dream, wrapping him in a fierce hug and pressing their violently red lips to his cheek. “There he is,” Desire said as they backed away, hands trailing up to frame Dream's face, comically mushing his cheeks together until his lips puckered like a cartoon goldfish. “There is the brother I love so much. I have missed you.”

Read on AO3

[wishing-stones]

Ur baddies (bad sanses) with a friend/crush/s/o who loves to be held and snuggled and loved on. Any amount of attention, especially physical, no matter how small it is will have them n their happy place. 🥰

Killer abuses this privilege. A lot. He'll use it as an excuse to shirk work ("Sorry! Can't get up! I'm being snuggled!") and delights in finding someone who is as on-board with physical touch as a love language as he is. He plays lewd, but he's actually very sweet about it behind closed doors. (..He can and will get lewd, but it's mostly him posturing in front of The Boys. He's a sucker for a good snuggle without any expectations.) Dust tests just how much of this he can push on you. You may wind up carrying him around or having to bodily move him from place to place. He will fall asleep on you at random intervals and it's your problem to deal with. As comical as he is about it casually, he's very sweet one-on-one and is shockingly tender. Axe adores this. He loves to snuggle and shower physical affection, and is a massive cuddlebug. He also doesn't give a shit about who sees this, either; no one's going to argue with him or tease him about it because he a. isn't ashamed, and b. defies them to make a negative comment about it and see where it lands them. He laments having to let go to do things, but always makes up for it later. Cross is a little shy about touching you, but likes to because... humans are soft. He's very tentative at first, but the more he's reacted to positively, the more confident he is. He is incredibly wary of letting anyone else see him be soft in that regard, but in private, he is agonizingly soft and careful, and enjoys whatever downtime he can dedicate to laying somewhere cozy and cuddling with plenty of murmured sweet nothings and tender words. He's a romantic at heart. Sue him. Baggs is touch-starved and busy, which is a terrible combination for someone who enjoys physical touch as much as he does. Nevertheless, unless it is pressing, he can take a few moments to nuzzle and offer quiet, sweet reassurances that he'll be along when he's done. Yes, he knows he said that half an hour ago, but really, he's only five minutes away from wrapping up what he's working on. (...it might be closer to twenty.) When he's not otherwise occupied, he adores cuddling up with you. It's refreshing for him, whether he's laying quiet and largely still aside from small brushes and nuzzles, or murmuring affections and short, sweet nuzzles and pecks, it gives him some much-needed downtime to rest his body and mind. Nightmare teases about this, but he enjoys it all the same. He's very private about it, though, so you likely only get small cheek, and, or head kisses throughout the day while he's attending to matters. When he's free to relax, he's very content to cuddle up and be sweet and romantic. That his touch alone can make someone so genuinely happy... is a bit of a novelty to him. It kind of smarts, like the dull ache of a bruise or strain, but... he can't deny that he's happy, too, so he doesn't mind.

[gc-nukani]

Behold, an actual image of me after finishing Edmond's new rooms

[csphire]

Purples, Blues, and Gold

Words: 1,800

A prequel to Rosemary, Lilacs, Lilies and Bergamot

Astarion is at a loss on how to go about picking out something new for himself when given the chance. Floundering a bit he reaches out to his love for help and receives some supportive guidance. Just a short and hopefully sweet fluffy one-shot that's been living rent-free in my head since buying him an outfit at the Facemaker’s Boutique.

Bodies scattered the floors and blood soaked into the rugs at the Facemaker’s Boutique. The staff and owner were still rattled by the murder attempt. But at least Figaro ‘Facemaker’ Pennygood was so thankful to still be alive that he offered a discount to them all on the spot. The last thing Astarion expected was for their defacto leader as well as his lover to actually take up the offer so readily. But in their early days, she was not above picking up rags and anything else not nailed down for a bit of extra coin to buy one more healing potion or spell scroll.

With a soft clap, Anna declared, “Well now that bit of unpleasantness is all sorted out, how about we all do a little shopping?”

He watched as Gale and Karlach gave one another a tired but agreeing shrug. They both made a beeline to pick out some long overdue fresh undergarments to start. Astarion however felt rooted to the spot for so long that she noticed, drew close, and offered her hand. Stopping just short to give him the chance to decide if he wanted the contact or not. He stared at it for a moment before thinking to take it in his, give it a nervous squeeze, and side-eye the others. His lips pursed tighter as one of his brows cocked high in quiet alarm.

In a discrete murmur, so low only he could hear she guessed, “Star… has it been a while since you’ve picked something out for yourself?”

After a soft embarrassed clearing of his throat, he admits in his own way, “To say I’m out of touch with the current trends would be an understatement. What do you think I should get?”

Read on here:

[emotinalsupportturtle]

Oh god, they are so sickeningly sweet

via @the_quintessence_of_tennant (instagram)

[soundlesswind]

Netkama Punch!!! It's an enemies-to-lovers romcom (same author as Necromancer Survival), involving mmos and catfishing. The webtoon is very cute...!!

[h20milk]

& ; twenty-one.

[hey-michael-young-history]

The sight made him freeze: seated on the other side of the clearing they'd claimed for the festivities, Lì-Yán sat in her Bába's lap. Both of their attention was completely riveted on the bowl in front of them, one laden with a small mountain of scoops of vanilla ice cream. Lì-Yán's face was a smeared mess of white, but that expression of bliss? It was a perfect twin to Kuai Liang's typically sedate features, now just as eager and pleased, so much so that their resemblance was sharper than ever before.

Hanzo had no idea when Kuai Liang had quietly inserted himself into the celebration, but this sight was almost more than he could bear. Of his strong, brave, perfect husband, overcoming his own darkness to spend time with their daughter on a day that had brought them so much pain, yet gifted them so much joy to follow. His precious daughter, vibrant and happy, his and Kuai Liang's love made manifest.

words by @seventhstrife , art by Shei ❤️

[hangmanbradshaw]

to celebrate there being so many chiefs fans, i was wondering if jake and bradley ever decide to have kids later bc they give such Girl Dad energy 😭

anyways, i hope you enjoy the game!!

There might be plans for this in the future ;) but yes, they do. It’s very much giving girl dad energy, their daughter takes in Jake’s footsteps and loves football, is always walking around with a little pink clipboard she’s made of game plans. They have a son too, but as hard as Jake and Bradley both try (leaving footballs and baseballs around, etc), he asks for a hockey stick for Christmas and they sigh and turn around and becomes the ultimate hockey dads, homemade shirts and cookies for the team parents (which Bradley teaches Jake how to make) and all. The little Bradshaw-Seresin clan is sideline at every one of Jake’s games, and sometimes Jake comes home and sees them all baking in the kitchen, and he just leans against the wall and smiles until he grabs some flour and throws it on Bradley, which starts a family flour fight. Carole, Nick, and Mav absolutely dote on the grandkids, but the funniest thing of all is their daughter is obsessed with Cyclone, who is terrified of children lmao

[venombloom]

[ pressure ] / emmrich!

@fatewoven

[ pressure ] sender sets a hand on the small of receiver's back

The Necropolis is interesting...that's for sure. Not as offputting as she would have thought. Perhaps a bit too lacking in the sunlight department.

But the area she fell in love with at first sight was the Memorial Garden. The first time Emmrich had invited her, it had taken her breath away. In awe she had followed him around, taking in every sight and sound, simply enjoying the wonder. One might ask why. To which she'd give the rather dull answer of It's beautiful and peaceful. Not the most eloquent response yet true nonetheless.

So anytime he extended the offer for her to tag along to the garden, she would excitedly accept. Including this round. They chattered back and forth, her stopping to pick flowers or to leave a bundles of flora for the dearly departed. He's easy to talk to, albeit sometimes she feels her verbiage isn't as eloquent as his and there's the slight insecurity of not being smart enough to keep up.

As they're finishing up another grave catches her eye. With a bit of pep in her step, she makes a beeline for it, murmuring an apology as she starts to wander not too far off.

Daisy let's out a quiet gasp as her gaze roams across the marker. What had caught her eye at first where the intricate designs carved into the smooth stone. Fingers tenderly trace the pattern while she reads the epitaph. As the digits wander up it's the blossom laden vines that she takes notice of. A quiet 'Ooh,' is gasped out when her attention is turned to them.

She's so focused she doesn't pay attention to how close he's gotten beside her even though he's still speaking to her. Then she feels a weight on her lower back. Body tenses till she realizes it's a hand — his hand, rings and all. The touch is feather light the first few seconds yet settles more heavily. Tightened muscles relax slowly, so much so, Daisy even leans into it and towards him. Usually any sort of touch to her back is concerning simply because the implications of vulnerability and usually if a Crow is going to take anything to the backside, it would be a blade. Or a lashing.

This though? This is oddly comforting. That doesn't stop her heart from giving a few extra rapid beats. Almost dumbly she stares up at him for a long few seconds, eyes wide, then quickly diverts her gaze hoping the barest hint of pink on her cheeks isn't noticeable under the dim light of the Necropolis.

"Thanks again for inviting me along, Emmrich. I really enjoy getting to have these walks with you. Or just hanging out in general."