#(so cuuuute)

[fuzzythoughtspup]

Awwww baby Odyyyyy

comfort

For a trade with @supersillygooses

[carolinatsversion]

yeontan.sanai

[vladaia]

[joile-fleur]

spring beauty 🐈 🌸

[aloneinthedark-eagle]

🤗🐈‍⬛ Don't hold me, I died, I guess I fell into heaven 🐟🐈😂

[zombie-vulture]

[melancholickiss]

[sillygoose067]

The Little Things

Lewis Pullman x Reader

Lewis had always been good at hiding in plain sight.

Not the confident, electric performer on stage or on screen—no, that version of him was loud, bold, unmissable. But the Lewis sitting beside you on that quiet evening was quieter, smaller in some ways, vulnerable in ways he rarely allowed himself to admit.

They say love hits like a lightning bolt, but for him, it was nothing like that.

It was the way your laughter spilled—soft, uncertain, like a fragile secret shared too early in the morning light. It was the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you thought no one was watching. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, and how your voice faltered just a little when you talked about your dreams.

He noticed all these things because he was paying attention, really paying attention. Not the distracted kind, not the casual glance—he was absorbing you, piece by piece.

It was in the small moments, too: the brush of your hand against his, accidental yet electric; the quiet pauses between your words where his heart hammered loud enough to drown out everything else; the way his chest tightened when you looked at him with that honest, unguarded gaze.

He found himself replaying conversations, dissecting your jokes, memorizing the way your voice softened when you said his name. And every time, a slow, aching warmth spread through him.

There was no dramatic crescendo, no sudden epiphany. Just an understanding that grew heavier with each shared coffee, each tentative smile, each evening spent wrapped in the soft glow of your presence.

He realized he was falling in love not because of one moment, but because of countless tiny ones — moments that made him ache to be better, to be braver, to be worthy of you.

———

You’d first noticed Lewis on a rainy Friday night at a small café-bar. The band was setting up, and when Lewis stepped up as lead vocalist, the whole room seemed to shift. On stage, he was confident and magnetic, like a different person—bold and alive in the spotlight.

But when the music stopped, you had seen him tuck his head a little, cheeks flushed, his usual quiet, awkward self stepping back in.

You’d recognized him—Lewis, the actor from a couple of indie films and some TV you’d seen. You’d never imagined he’d be the lead singer in a band. Curious and a bit nervous yourself, you gathered your courage and walked up.

“Hey,” you had said softly, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “I didn’t know you were in a band too.”

He blinked, clearly surprised, and his shy smile matched your own awkwardness. “You… you know me? I didn’t think anyone would.”

You had laughed nervously, glancing down. “Yeah, I’ve seen you act. But this? This is different. You’re… kind of amazing on stage.”

His cheeks deepened in color. “Thanks. I’m a different person up there, honestly.”

Over the next few weeks, you’d exchanged texts—filled with shy emojis, long pauses before replies, and little jokes that didn’t quite land but made you both smile.

One afternoon, after a casual coffee together, Lewis finally worked up the courage to ask you out properly. You were sitting side by side on a park bench, the world moving softly around you.

He shifted uncomfortably, looking at the ground. “So… um, this is probably super awkward, but would you want to go out with me? Like, an actual date? Not just coffee.”

Your heart had skipped, and you bit your lip. You’d nodded, cheeks warming. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

He’d grinned shyly. “Cool. I mean, if that’s okay. I’m kind of terrible at this.”

You giggled, your fingers fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Me too. But maybe we can be terrible together.”

You and Lewis agreed to meet at a small, cozy café neither of you had been to before. The kind of place with mismatched chairs, warm lighting, and a shelf full of books along one wall.

He had arrived a few minutes early, standing just inside the door, cheeks pink and hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets.

“Hey,” he said softly when he saw you, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you replied, your own voice a little shaky.

You found a table near the window, and for a moment, neither of you knew quite what to say.

“So… do you come here often?” Lewis asked, scratching the back of his neck.

You had smiled, realizing how much you two were mirroring each other. “First time, actually. You?”

“Same. Figured a new place would be… less pressure?”

You laughed—a relieved sound. “Yeah. Less pressure to know all the good drinks.”

The conversation was slow, with pauses where both of you would glance away or fidget nervously. But little by little, stories began to flow—about your favorite books, Lewis’s experiences on set, the silly things that make you both laugh.

When he told you about the band, his eyes sparkled a little more, the confident stage persona slipping through for a moment. You asked if he ever got nervous performing.

“Always,” he admitted. “But once I’m up there, it feels like I can be someone else. It’s nice.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread inside you. “Yeah, I get that.”

The evening ended with an awkward, hopeful “See you soon?” from Lewis and a shy nod from you.

Over the next few weeks, you met for dinners, walks in the park, and occasional band gigs where you watched Lewis transform on stage—the same confident, electric performer you’d fallen for.

Each time, your conversations grew deeper, your silences more comfortable. You laughed at your shared awkwardness and found joy in small moments: a hand brushed against yours, a shy smile exchanged across a crowded room.

Lewis started texting you little things—songs that reminded him of you, random thoughts, goodnight messages that made your heart flutter.

One evening, while you sat together watching the sunset from a bench, he had caught your hand gently.

He’d shifted nervously, voice low and honest.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this…”

You’d held your breath, eyes locked on his.

“I think I’m falling for you.”

Your heart had jumped. He looked away for a second, then back, vulnerability shining in his eyes.

“I didn’t expect it. It just… happened. I know my life’s kind of chaotic — filming, music, being gone more than I’d like. So, if this feels like too much, or you don’t feel the same… I’ll understand. I really will.”

He paused, searching your face for any reaction.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you and wrapped your arms around him—tight, sure, like you never wanted to let go.

Pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, you had whispered, “I’m all in. If you are.”

———

So yes, Lewis had fallen inexplicably in love with you. Hard. So what?

[slomblerfumble]

Bunny boy. The body is pine, the dots are black walnut, and the ears are basswood

[rubyfox1134]

Cute ❤️❤️

CUTE ❤️❤️

CUTE!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

[avatar-firelordzuko]

What a fantastic brilliant cute artwork ❤️✌️🥰

🦬🐉🎏🦡

🌬️🔥🌊⛰️

[happyheidi]

(via)

[thesweetnomnation01]

[joile-fleur]

Learning to love this little life𓃠 💐

[aloneinthedark-eagle]

The beauty of your imagination 🌹 🐟

[softiedingo]

he's just a cute lil guy wearing glasses 🥹🤏🏻