#this is honestly tooth-rotting

[philly-interlude]

[3:48 PM] "markie..." you cooed teasingly at your boyfriend who's seemingly stressed on writing one of his upcoming song, however, he might've needed an inspiration to do so and you totally know how.

it's been an hour or two since he placed his things on your kitchen table, wiping all the things away from it as he took a peaceful time and you ruined it- not really though. he likes- no, honestly LOVES your existence.

mark sighed and glanced up on your soft features, smiling down on him while leaning on the table with your palm placed on your chin, your elbows standing as support. he raised his brows, "what baby?" he asked, it was breathy, he was tired of sitting and thinking for hours.

you went beside him and gave him a side hug, nuzzling your face on his neck smelling his fragrance that became your favorite scent from the past 3 years you officially became a couple.

mark smiled at this and placed a long kiss on your cheek and closed his eyes at the feeling of your warmth. "stand up" you whispered after pressing a kiss on his jawline, "but-" he almost reasoned but you cut him off somehow, "just stand up and hold me" you demanded softly.

so he did.

if you dance, i'll dance and if you don't, i'll dance anyway give peace a chance let the fear you have fall away

the first stanzas of lana del rey's "yes to heaven" played from your old favorite vintage cassette, both your right hands shared warmth, his left one placed firmly but enough to be fragile against your waist and yours placed lightly on his shoulder.

i've got my eye on you i've got my mind on you say yes to heaven, say yes to me say yes to heaven, say yes to me

you held each other closely, his forehead placed on yours as you stared on each other's sparkling orbs—filled with love and sparks you danced the afternoon storm away.

you come back i'll be right here like a barge at sea in the storm i stay clear 'cause i've got my eye on you i've got my mind on you

he turned you around like a princess with a smile, you giggled as you almost tripped on your own foot, but he held you to avoid it.

say yes to heaven, say yes to me say yes to heaven, say yes to me

as the second chorus stopped a bit, it was as if fireworks exploded behind the background. staring on each other's eyes lovingly, both knew what you wanted. you kissed. him being the one who began the thing.

soft lips against soft lips, it molded. filled with passion and love. nothing, literally just a kiss, but it meant a lot.

if you dance, i'll dance i'll put my red dress on again and if you fight i'll fight it doesn't matter, now it's all gone i've got my mind on you i've got my mind on you

you both pulled away and you placed a quick peck on his nose, "i love you mark lee" you mouthed, "i love you too baby, thank you" he whispered and pulled your body into an embrace.

say yes to heaven, say yes to me say yes to heaven, say yes to me i've got my eye on you i've got my eye on you i've got my eye on you i've got my eye on you.

"i know what i want now, you'll be the inspiration of this song" he giggled and started writing from a scratch and your mouth came agape, "hey! that'll sound cringe, i know you, ew!"

[frnkiebby]

f u c k~🎃

[drarrily-we-row-along]

October 18: “Did you plan for this to happen?”

“Darling, what on earth?”

Harry spun around to confront the voice in the doorway to the kitchen, spilling a bit of batter from the bowl and onto the floor as he did. It was one in the morning, in his defense, and he’d been very contentedly working in the kitchen while his husband slept in their bed. “Oh,” he said, looking around at the counter covered in baking ingredients, a pan of apple crisp already cooling on the sill.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Draco asked, all soft and sleep rumpled, rubbing his eyes as he wandered in and pulled himself up onto the counter, nicking a chunk of apple from the cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

A soft crunch, followed by a hum and Harry was lost. Completely gone on him.

“You silly goose,” he said, reaching out with his toes to nudge Harry’s thigh, “did you plan for this to happen?” he asked, gesturing at the baked goods waiting their turn for the oven. “Why are you up baking at this hour?”

And Harry blinked at him, didn’t really know, couldn’t really articulate the way the the love in his body got restless sometimes. The way it yearned for an outlet, for the freedom to give itself away. “I get-” he shrugged, gestured with his spatula, “my body-” he shook his head. Tried again, “my heart,” he said softly, “it’s too big for my body sometimes?”

Draco tilted his head, waited.

“I just. Sometimes, I love you and I love our friends so much and I don’t know-” he broke off and shook his head. “It’s too big for my body to hold,” he said. “And what am I meant to do with it all? How can I ever-?” Harry trailed off again, looking at Draco uncertainly.

“Ever what, sweet?” he asked indulgently.

Harry looked down at the batter for the pumpkin roll, then back up at Draco. “My life is so good,” he whispered. “So full of joy and love, so full of people who make it-” he broke off helplessly, couldn’t put it all into words. “And where can I put it all?”

“Sweetheart,” gentle, too gentle, too much love, too much; Harry was far too small to receive that much.

“So sometimes I just start baking,” Harry confessed, hurried on before he got too emotional. “I don’t know where else to put it, so I bake.”

“Come here,” Draco murmured, holding out his arms.

Helplessly, Harry set down the bowl on the counter and moved toward him. Wouldn’t, couldn’t, deny the other man his love when his whole body was so full of it. “I’m a mess,” he said, gesturing to his apron covered in batter.

“Mine,” Draco replied, tugging him closer and wrapping him up tight. “My sweet love,” he pressed a kiss to his temple. “Too good for this world. How could you be so good?” he asked, more to himself than Harry. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Harry replied , and that was the point, wasn’t it? That he loved him so much, couldn’t contain it, couldn’t hold it, couldn’t give enough of it away.

When the oven timer went off, Draco pulled back, “can I stay with you while you bake?”

Harry’s heart, a bursting, bubbling thing in his chest. Too big, too full, too joyful. “Do you want to?” he managed.

Nodding, Draco swiped another slice of apple from the cutting board.

“Alright, then,” he said, helpless and fond, so in love he couldn’t do anything to hold back the way it must be pouring off of him.

“Alright.” Draco smiled back and Harry just let himself exist in all of the love he had.

[meowpupp]

can we please all agree that the new hozier song SCREAMS price and the new recruit for 141

[the-meme-monarch]

"yeah I know you've been telling me you're in pain like every day bc of your cavity but here's a video of someone else who got their wisdom teeth removed and is panicking from the the anesthesia and ‘acting stupid’. I have greatly implied up to this point that I don't want you to get anesthesia or to not remove the teeth at all”

[maehemthemisfit]

imagine cafe au! kazuha where he works behind the counter and notices you working at an empty table. he secretly gives you a cake on the house, and a napkin with his number written on it 🍰🌸

i cant stop thinking about how nice it’d be to recieve free drinks from him ❤️❤️

Oh my god this is melting my heart

But wait hear me out, what if, what if, WHAT IF !!!

you briefly stop by just to pick up a drink (you ordered online beforehand to skip the line), and while kazuha's to the side making your order he sees you and immediately wants to get to know you more... but he's on the clock so the best thing he can think of is writing a little message for you on the cup after he writes your name, and you only notice it after you get home.

It's so silly but just think about you using the order app to communicate to him through the receipts (yk the options where you customize your order- something like that idk how it works but you make it work!)

And every time you stop by he leaves you a message and you guys play 20 questions over cups and receipts ( his co-workers tease him so much about it or just roll their eyes when they hand him the message - scara fr )

im sorry i just love slow burns shfedksdhf

yall eventually get each other's numbers and you really get to know the man who's been paying for your drinks and writing poetry about you on your cups.

.° ୭ ៳ Genshin Drabble Masterlist・✩

[count-vashula]

dating nowadays feels awful btw it’s so depressing

[acanthemp3]

i cant go more than 3 years without some cruel and unusual fate befalling the exact same molar and we're finally putting it out of its misery as soon as this surgeon can get me in (in like a month) gruesome details in the tags bc i love to overshare

[rampagingnoble]

please don't tell me they did all that adorable, shameless tooth-rotting domestic fluff with a bit of side angst as compensation for what's to come because they'll be going full angst the next episode or so bc rei's father is about to mess things up

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

difference in the ship dynamic i guess

(+ carlo once stole someone's bride and now someone (his lover) is stealing his wife. it's karma)

[shylockgnomes]

Listen. I am trying to upload my fluff for @fluffbruary but the beloved Ao3 has a bit of a sleepy server today…

So content yourself with the front cover for now… and then once the archive is chugging along again I will reblog this and link you all up. I promise.

[clooverhoover]

GUYS WHAT THE FUCK APPARENTLY GOOD OMENS HAS BEEN RENEWED FOR A THIRD AND FINAL SEASON??????????????????????????????? WHAT THE FUCKKK (/pos) LITERALLY SHAKING SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING RIPPING THINGS APART SLAMMING MYSELF AGAINST FURNITURE PROJECTILE VOMITING IN EXCITMENT CRAVING BLOOD AND SHITTING CEMENT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[thebellearchives]

hi it’s the anon who asked about your fav brother again, but now i’m gonna ask about your fav trope! you write a lot of fluff so if you say friends to lovers i won’t be surprised tbh

welcome back anon ~

my fav trope is popular girl x nerd boy hah (it’s my guilty pleasure) (i’ve read an infinite amount of this across the years) (i still haven’t gotten over them)

[halechief]

get it off my desk.

@tahitiwoke

❝  oh, don't be like that, phillip. ❞ it's the reaction she'd wanted, what she'd hoped for when she texted saying : I have a present for you in your office ♡ . he'd arrived in record time, breathing a little hard, and there she was in all her teasing, and hopefully endearing glory - seated smugly in his office chair with her heels propped on the corner of his desk, ankles crossed, her index finger falling to tap the plastic cover of a CD case lying on it. ( So, Peter Gabriel. 1986. and track number two? ) are you ever gonna let that go? ❝  no, i don't think so. you don't need to be embarrassed. in fact, you could be flattered. i had edward escort me into a barnes and noble near the airport to get this especially for you. used my own money and everything. ❞ he does not look flattered, or impressed in the slightest, but there's nothing present in his expression that leads her to think he's really all that bothered, either. he might even like it. she'd be willing to bet on it, actually.

she's laughing now, softly as she stands and sees her way to interrupt him when he opens his mouth, rounding the desk and lifting a hand, tucking her first two fingers into the knot of his tie and dragging it loose without much preamble, hoping he'll bend for her efforts. ❝  come on, baby. i was thinking of you. doesn't that count for something? ❞

[08melancholie]

guys who do i remind you of😇

my friends open drawing requests and i bow my head with shame and avoid eye contact as i ask for the character they Already Knew I Would Ask For

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”