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#i just love him
rookie98writes · 20 hours
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the first time you fall asleep in bed with kakashi, it may surprise you that you wake up with his face buried in your chest.
after all, didn't you fall asleep cuddled against his chest? or maybe tucked together like spoons? but definitely not this...not that you dislike it! you just weren't expecting to find the accomplished ninja burrowed between your tits.
and yes, a big part of it is the obvious. whether you've got big tits, small tits, shirt on, shirt off—really doesn't make a difference to him. kakashi loves you and your body, and he's happy to be close to it any way you'll allow. but what he's really searching for is your heartbeat. that strong and steady thump thump thump that sometimes quickens when you're around him, or when he says something designed to make you blush, or when he touches you just right.
he wants to hear it settle into a secure rhythm as you drift off and give in to sleep. he wants to hear it continue throughout the whole night. it's his white noise and his lullaby all in one. and how is he supposed to listen unless he has his ear to your chest?
so please, do your best not to wake him. let kakashi enjoy the sound of your heart for as long as he needs to hear it. let it filter into his subconscious. his dreams.
let it be the guide for his own heartbeat to match.
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myvampyrez · 1 day
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sephiroth felt your hands grip the sheets, stirring in your sleep as you tossed and turned. he blinked the remaining sleep left in his eyes, adjusting to the darkness of the room as he finally felt you jolt up.
a hand flew to cover your mouth in a weak attempt to hush your ragged breathing. it was like barbed wire coated your throat as you tried to keep your sobs in, a flow of hot tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.
you knew he was awake, he always was a light sleeper. and with that knowledge, you draped your arm over his as he laid on his side— and you pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder, now bare in the comfort of his bed rather than being armor clad like usual.
he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his arm while you press soft kisses against his skin, your hushed hiccups breaking the silence of the room. every broken sigh you let out to try and regulate your breathing made sephiroth’s heart pain even more, a sharp pain in his chest as he resisted the urge to sit up.
your gaze fell on his face, mako eyes standing out against the darkness of your bedroom as they turned to look at you, silver hair framing his face. he said nothing, merely reaching his hands towards yours and interlacing your fingers in a gentle grip. you cherished the moments where you did not feel leather on his skin, but instead the softness of his own hands.
and when you reached for his face in the dark, free hand stained with tears and the guilt of your own sorrow, a wave washed over both of your bodies. it’s hard to accept love when all you’ve known is hate, but that’s okay. he eased into your touch the same way your voice lured him into your web of a loving embrace, taking him into your arms as you whispered promises and affections soon to be fulfilled. all the memories you two shared were half-yours, because in this life, it’s a loop. and a loop is a circle, meaning there are two halves. half of this love came from you, too.
and that made sephiroth tear up a bit, knowing you just want to help people even as you’re crying yourself. in the morning he won’t ask you why you cried, he won’t ask about the nightmares you had and the terrible things you’ve faced on your lonesome. instead, he’ll wrap you into his arms the same way you did for him, and he’ll hold you for as long as you need. you’re okay with that, you thought, as your shoulders heaved with sobs that had yet to hit your ears, only focusing on your sephiroth’s heartbeat while you rested on his chest, reveling in the feeling of the familiar calloused hand that came to rest upon the back of your head.
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erwinsvow · 27 days
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it’s like you were put on this earth to bother rafe.
everyday, without fail, come some sort of request—rafe, let’s go get coffee. rafe, i want ice cream. rafe, i wanna go to bed. he tells you to go to bed and you whine immediately after, letting out a faint “not alone! not what i meant!” before he rolls his eyes, one huge hand settling on your hip and the other one on your back, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to bed. 
once you finally get him there it’s all laughs and giggles and avoiding his gaze, getting shy again, refusing to tell him what you really want. he rolls his eyes and gives it to you hard, like he knows you need it, so you’ll fall asleep and let him finish his work in silence. and it works—for a few hours, that is. then you're up again, usually with more requests.
“rafe, they’re having a sale.” you fiddle with your R pendant, the way you always do when you want something and can’t find the words to just ask for it. for a girl pawing at his dick and begging for it raw half the time, you get awfully shy. 
“so? how many fuckin’ clothes do y’need?” 
“you’re the one who keeps ripping ‘em up! not my fault-”
he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair.
"knock it off," he says, coming out louder and more frustrated than he meant.
then he watches you quiet down and scroll on your phone, biting your cheek. he thinks he messed up and made you cry. he feels bad the second it's done, because there’s definitely some pretty, tiny dress pulled up on the screen that you want to show him. 
he knows how your brain works at this point—you want him to get it for you, take you out to a cute dinner so you can wear it and then have him yank it off of you later that night. you won’t ask for it though, there’s your shyness again. 
you feel bad when he actually does buy you anything more than a six-dollar latte or a big ice cream that you can’t finish.
"what're you looking at?" he finally asks, not even a minute later, looking at your body resting on the complete other side of the bed now.
"nothing."
"you gonna do this right now?"
"do what?"
"just show me what you want."
"no, it's nothing. i'll just ask my other boyfriend for it, it's fine-"
before your sentence is finished, he's already on top of you, squishing your cheeks together, pinning you down. he stares into your eyes, maybe expecting tears, but they don't come. instead you look... satisfied. satisfied with yourself for riling him up like you wanted.
"yeah? other boyfriend?"
"jus' a joke, rafey." your voice comes out all quiet and squeaky since he's holding your face tight. your eyes are big and wide staring up at him. he hates that he's getting hard right now. he lets you go, rolling off and feeling your body sink into his bed.
“get your ass in the car.” it comes out as a statement, not a request. you comply immediately, leaning over to give him a wet, sloppy kiss before stumbling out of bed to grab your shoes. he gets up too, looking for his keys, when you come right back to give him a hug. you press your head against his chest, arms wrapped tight around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, breathing in his scent.
“thank you, rafe,” you murmur against his shirt.
“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he starts, but you don’t miss the way the tops of his ears are flushed with pink. “get the fuckin’ address for that place out-”
he does take you out to dinner, a cute place where he pulls out your chair for you and holds your hand in his on the table. he gets you flowers that match the color of your new dress, which are resting in the backseat of his car now. he kisses your cheek when he helps you put your jacket back on. then he slaps your ass when you’re getting into the passenger seat of his truck, because now it’s his turn to have fun with that dress.
later that night, close to sleep, you paw at his arm and ask for ice cream. the two of you are on the road five minutes later. he turns his head at the red light to watch you lick your cone. then you hold it up to his mouth so he can have some too, smiling and laughing when he takes a big bite.
he's starting to think he likes when you bother him for stuff.
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guelyury · 2 months
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Muscle memory
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davidtennan-t · 4 months
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if I speak-
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enigma-system · 6 months
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IT‘S HIS DAY!!
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lizardpersonyk · 5 months
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yes tim parasocial relationshiping his way into the batfam is objectively funny but also he was so determined to help and bruce did NOT treat him well and he was just there sacrificing his childhood to stop a grown man from running himself into the ground and bringing gotham with him. Like he was TEENSY and SMALL. a baby. And he saw someone he's idolised for years hurting and going out of control and the only thing he thought was to force him to get better, never mind Tim's well-being. I just don't think people consider that he was so young and was treated so badly in Bruce's grief enough. That's a BABY sir. AN INFANT. maybe a toddler if you stretch it
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Vincent Price interview on the set of The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
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cillianhead · 1 month
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this made me cry
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bodyisanorphanage · 1 month
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my obsession w mikey is boundless
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pannee-dragon · 3 months
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the smile on this guy
genuinely makes my heart feel funny
from tiktok user air.tyo (lost the link sorry)
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morkshark · 7 months
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if chip has a million fans, i am one of them
if chip has ten fans, i am one of them
if chip has one fan, that is me
if chip has 0 fans, i am no longer alive
if the word is against chip, i am against the world
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topshelf2112-blog · 4 months
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Alright crew - hit me with your best (prettiest, silliest, most fun) Peter Falk pics!!
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He has been put in peril.
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madeleinefjall · 6 months
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sunshine ☀️
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thewhisperofzagreus · 15 days
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The Triumph of Bacchus, 1875 - oil on canvas.
— Gustave Moreau (France, 1826–1898)
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