#and it's so fluffy and sweet

[batsandbirdbrains]

I want a season 1 yj fic where no one on the team knows who Batman and Robin are behind the masks. Wally is friends with Robin, but he only knows him as Robin, and he’s never seen him without the mask or without his sunglasses.

And Dick thinks they’re all friends. Sure, they don’t know his name or half of his life, but they know him. He thinks of them as some of his best friends. He doesn’t actually have a whole lot of friends. He has Barbara, but she doesn’t know about Robin. And he has Bette, but she’s his cousin, so she doesn’t really count.

So when he walks into the lounge area in Mount Justice one day and hears most of the team talking shit about Dick Grayson, who was just shown on TV with Bruce Wayne because there was a big charity gala last night, he’s trying so hard not to get upset. Because they’re making fun of him. They’re talking shit about him. They don’t even know Dick Grayson, but they’re saying such mean things about him.

“I’ve seen him around school, he’s such a snob,” Artemis complains. “His hair is always gelled so obnoxiously and his uniform is always perfect, and,” she snorts, “he’s captain of the mathletes. What a dork.”

Alfred insists on his uniform always being perfectly ironed and his shirt being tucked in. He gets the longest lectures whenever he gets a detention or a pink slip for his uniform being out of line.

And Bruce has been doing Dick’s hair before school since Dick started going to school. He’d been so nervous the first time, because he was eight and he’d been homeschooled in the circus and he’d never been to a real school before, so Bruce did Dick’s hair just like his, and it made him feel so much better. Dick does his own hair mostly now that he’s older, but he mostly sticks with how Bruce first showed him. It’s easy. It’s a classic style. It makes him feel a little less nervous.

And who cares if he’s captain of the mathletes? Bruce insists it will look good on college applications. You can never start preparing too early. Plus, Gotham Academy is full of nerds, it’s far from the dorkiest club on campus. He’s mostly only on the team because his math teacher insisted.

He’s lingering in the hallway, just before the doorway to the lounge, leaning against the wall as he listens in on their conversation.

“He’s obviously a publicity stunt,” Wally snorts, and Dick can hear him stuffing chips in his mouth. “Was Bruce Wayne getting bad press when he first adopted him or something? I always thought it was weird he just plucked a kid from out of nowhere.”

“I thought he was from the circus?” Conner asks, but he actually sounds confused, curious.

The question only makes Wally and Artemis laugh louder, and even M’gann is giggling now. Dick feels like his heart just dropped into his stomach.

“The whole thing is so weird,” Artemis laughs. “Bruce Wayne takes him out like he’s some sort of little accessory, it’s so weird.”

“They are a pretty weird pair, aren’t they?” Wally laughs.

“I mean, the kid seems like a pain in the ass,” Artemis says, and Dick can just tell from the way she says it that she’s smirking. “I don’t know if I’d feel that bad if their whole father-son schtick was all for the camera. Brucie probably treats him like a toy he can just put back on the shelf when he’s done playing with him. He’s probably nothing but a charity case.”

Dick can hear someone pushing Artemis into the side of the couch, but he can tell they’re still all laughing and joking around. Dick feels like his breath is caught in his throat.

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” Conner says.

“Oh, come on, Conner,” Artemis huffs. “I’m only kidding.”

“It’s not something to kid about,” Conner says. “He’s a real person. They’re both real people. You know nothing about them.”

“I know that he struts around school like he owns the place!”

“Does he really?” M’gann gasps.

He can hear Artemis, Wally, and M’gann all continuing to gossip together, to laugh about his photos that Artemis is pulling up on her phone. He can hear Conner mutter something about them being childish, and then get up towards the kitchen area.

The hand on his shoulder startles him, and he’s so mad at himself for not hearing Kaldur walking up behind him.

“Robin, is everything alright?” Kaldur asks, and his voice is so gentle, so concerned.

“M’fine,” Dick chokes out. “M’just, I - I’m gonna go, actually. Can’t stay for training today.”

“Are you not feeling well?”

“Just…feeling a little sick. I’ll be fine.”

Conner has since walked into the hallway too, and he’s looking at Dick all concerned now too. But Dick feels like everything is too hot and he can’t breathe right and he’s suddenly so upset, and he can’t stay here anymore knowing that half of his friends are sitting just a few feet away, making fun of him.

Dick rushes back home, and he finds Bruce sitting in his office going over some WE paperwork. Bruce is surprised he’s home so soon, but holds onto Dick tightly when he falls into his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks, squeezing Dick tight. “Did something happen at training? Are you hurt?”

“People are mean,” Dick mumbles into Bruce’s shoulder. “They were watching something about the gala from last night. Didn’t wanna stick around.”

“Oh, Dickie,” Bruce sighs, because this isn’t exactly the first time Dick has heard people he thinks are his friends talking about him behind his back, even if this is the first time it’s people who don’t realize they know him talking about him.

“They called me a publicity stunt,” Dick says, pressing himself closer to Bruce. “And a charity case.”

“You aren’t either of those things,” Bruce says, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “You’re my son, no matter what anyone else says.”

“I know.”

Bruce sighs again, resting his cheek on top of Dick’s head. They’re both quiet for a moment, Bruce swiveling side to side in the chair a bit.

“I know it’s difficult,” Bruce tells him. “But how about I put these papers away, and we go watch a movie before Alfred has dinner ready?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Or we can go down to the cave and we can train a bit, if you’d rather do that?”

“I kinda wanna hit something,” Dick mumbles. “But can we watch a movie after dinner?”

“We’ll do whatever you want, chum.”

Dick continues to cling to Bruce while he straightens up his desk, but he hops up and rushes over to the clock to go down to the cave. Black Canary eventually calls the cave to ask Batman if Robin is alright, because she missed him at training and no one could tell her why he left, but he just tells her that Robin wanted to train with him today.

Later that night after dinner, Dick is cuddled up next to Bruce in his favorite family room, a movie playing in the background, and Dick falls asleep like that. Bruce doesn’t disturb him. They both end up falling asleep on the couch, and Bruce decides to take the next day off and to keep Dick home from school so they can spend the day together.

[egophiliac]

ANNIVERSARY GROOVY BOYBAND! THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD, I also love the hades reference with idia! Ik ur probably really swamped with the book 7 brain rot but I wanted to know ur thoughts. I also wanted to mention that I am so card deprived I feel like I need a replacement event to take tsumderlands place

AUGH NO I LOVE THEM. 😭 UGH now I really have to think about if I want to try pulling for Grim again. dangit. heck. I already got his little pedestal to add my guest room shrine, but...now I kinda need the boss himself...

also, the implications of it not being an OB thing, Idia can just. Do That? apparently? do you think he ever just sometimes does it by accident? what am I saying, he absolutely sometimes does it by accident.

gosh though. this event has been SO cute in general! I was wondering who'd get the focus for year 5; I could not be happier that the answer is apparently EVERYBODY. :D all the dorms get their own special songs! so many cute little scenes!!! the lowest of stakes bringing out the highest of pettiness in everyone!!!!!! it's excellent.

(also, because I will make literally anything about my diaboys...I know these events are typically sorta, let's say chronologically unmoored with regards to story. but the further implications that this takes place pre-episode 7/Malleus' Big Existential Crisis, and yet...some of these lines?)

[milkamel]

Truthless Recluse doodle + sad PV sketches (close-ups under the cut)

he's so pretty when he cries I'm sorry 💔 a beautiful angel make him suffer more please

[zillychu]

art trade with @littlehornedoak! (check out her companion piece here!)

she asked me to draw my favorite dungeon meshi character with brushbug... I can't pick a favorite so I went with the one the chat would kin assign me

after finishing it I decided it needed another version too :)

[canisalbus]

hey there!! i'd been checking this blog for a while, and I really wanted to say you're a great source of inspiration haha! I really love your dog characters and your lore! The amount of research and dedication is really amazing!! about ludovica's gf, do you mind if I come in with my vision as well? I think she'd be a really fluffy dog, maybe with curly hair. so my mind went to the portuguese water dog; but then i thought of two versions: long hair and short hair. so i drew both (tried my best to make her look like a lady and not a grandpa haha)

.

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers Trailer | Kantbison + UNHINGED

CURRENT CAUSE OF DEATH.

I'm sorry - they did not prepare us for this. BDSM??? A 500-Days-of-Summer DANCE NUMBER?! THESE TWO ARE GOING TO BE SO INSANELY DERANGED AND CHAOTIC, I LOVE THAT FOR THEM.

[ultravioletbrit]

“across” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 276 words

Regulus is undeniably beautiful all the time. But one of James’ favorites might be first thing in the morning, before he’s even woken up.

There’s a ray of sunlight shining across his raven black curls—one of which has fallen onto his forehead just begging to be tucked behind his ear, but James won’t risk disturbing him. His forehead and eyebrows are relaxed and free of any worry or stress. His long eyelashes are resting peacefully on his cheeks. His lips are parted just the slightest bit, and his breathing is soft and steady. James could watch Regulus sleep for hours and never get bored.

“Stop watching me sleep, it’s creepy.” Regulus mumbles without opening his eyes.

James’ hand is like a magnet to that one curl now that he knows Regulus isn’t fully asleep.

“I’m not watching you sleep. I’m admiring your beauty.” James tells him as he tucks the curl behind his ear.

“While I’m sleeping, so it’s still creepy.” Regulus’ soft, groggy morning voice is one of James’ other favorite things.

“Are you awake now?” James asks as he leans in and kisses Regulus forehead.

“No.”

James chuckles softly. “You’re not?”

“No. Go away.” Regulus mutter softly but he shifts slightly and moves his head to rest on James’ chest.

“I can’t really go away with you on top of me, love.” James wraps his arm around Regulus, pulling him in.

“Shhh. ‘m sleeping.” Regulus snuggles impossibly closer.

“Okay.” James whispers and kisses the top of his curls.

Regulus’ breathing evens out quickly as he falls back to sleep. James squeezes him once before he drifts back to sleep right along with him.

[em1i2a3]

The Moon Song

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Fem!Reader!

Summary: When you and Bob return from your rehearsal dinner for your wedding tomorrow, you both decide that it is time to finally practice your slow dance and settle on a song.

Warnings: Pure Fluff, and nice intimate moments, Talks about the future, Y’all it’s so sweet that it’s cavity inducing to be honest.

Author’s Note: I loved the idea that reader and Bob procrastinate for so long that they are literally making these decisions the night before the wedding, just seems like something Bob would do. I thought it would be a cute little blurb piece, cause this weekend there are some pretty heavy updates coming from the Bob o’sphere lol, and I need to ease that tension by starting with this fluff lol. I hope y’all enjoy this little piece <3 (Also, Happy RAF!)

Word Count: 3,017

The door to your shared apartment clicked shut behind you, and both you and Bob let out a long sigh at the exact same time, not even trying to hide the slight exhaustion that laced the breaths.

Your clutch landed on the little table beside the door with a dull thumb as you reached up to tug your earrings out, wincing a little at the ache in your lobes from how the weight of the jewelry pulled at them throughout the night. You didn’t try to take off your heels just yet, but your feet were already screaming for relief.

Behind you, Bob shifted his weight from one foot to the other, slowly loosening the collar of his black button up. The quietness of your apartment wrapped around you both like a blanket, giving you a breath of real air after hours of wine refills, clinking forks, and polite interrogations.

The sound of your shoes echoed down the hallways as you and Bob made your way towards your bedroom.

“That was so much small talk,” You muttered, trying to unzip your dress before realizing–for the second time tonight–you couldn’t reach behind you properly to do it. You let out a frustrated exhale and added “I’m sorry about my cousin, by the way. She was relentless…If it wasn’t for my aunt distracting me, I would’ve stepped in sooner.” Bob shrugged as you reached your bedroom door.

”It wa–wasn’t that bad,” He said gently, “Especially for it being our fi–first meeting.” You smirked and glanced over your shoulder at him.

”Well, you made a good first impression. I just wish they weren’t so pushy with you, and maybe they would actually let you finish a sentence instead of jumping in for you.” Bob reached out and took your hand, his large fingers wrapping around yours, giving them a small squeeze.

”We li–literally will never se-see them again after this anyways…There’s also a reason wh–why I didn’t meet them before tonight, right?’ You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up your throat.

”Yeah…I guess you’re right as usual.” You gave his hand a squeeze back, “You know how I am, though.” He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth–the diamond of your engagement ring catching in the dim light–his lips brushing against your knuckles as you stepped into the bedroom fully.

”Al–Always on the defensive for me…Ju–Just like I am for you.” You smiled, feeling the warmth blooming in your chest as the two of you paused in the center of the room, bathed in soft amber lamplight. The chaos of the evening started melting off your shoulders.

Then Bob grinned and said, “Now, turn around for me. I wanna help my fiancée un–undress one last time before I can say she’s my wi–wife.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh.

”God, you’re so sentimental tonight.” You joked, but you still turned anyway. His hands were on you instantly. They were steady and unhurried as they found the golden zipper of your short white dress, fiddling with it for a moment before guiding it slowly down your back, his fingertips skimming your spine. The fabric fluttered down your hips and pooled at your feet. In one quick movement he knelt to unbuckle your heels next–one, then the other–thumbs brushing against your calves like he wanted to remember how your skin felt tonight, of all nights–on the eve of your wedding day.

When he stood up again, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, then another at the top of your spine. Then another one near the nape of your neck.

“You looked be–beautiful in that dress tonight, by the way,” He said, his voice muffling and vibrating against your skin. You let out a little laugh as you turned to face him, your chest pressing against his.

”You’ve said that ten times tonight.” He smiled, eyes half-lidded as he leaned in and kissed your lips.

”El–Eleven including this time.” You sighed and kissed him again, softer now, allowing your lips to linger against his, before pulling back.

”Mmm…I love you so much.” He bumped his forehead against yours.

”I kn–know,” He whispered, “I love you too.” You smiled, reaching up to help him undo his tie, the cool fabric sliding loose with a soft hiss before you slipped it from around his neck and let it drape carelessly over the footboard. You didn’t stop there.

You glanced up once–his eyes were on you, heavy-lidded–before your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. One by one, you undid them. Each pop of a button revealed more of him. The line of his sternum. The slow rise and fall of his chest. The very faint dusting of light brown hair that trailed downward from the center of his ribs. The faintest pink scar near his left collarbone. All of him–warm, familiar, and yours.

And as each new inch of skin appeared, you leaned in and kissed him—soft, slow, sweet.

A kiss just below his collarbone.

Another near the center of his chest.

A final one low on his ribs.

Each one paired with whispered sweet nothings:

“So handsome.”

“Tomorrow I get to call you mine forever.”

“You’re everything to me.”

Bob stood still and quiet beneath your affection, his chest rising with every breath, eyes fluttering shut as his hands rested loosely at your waist.

When you finally stepped back, you did so slowly–eyes trailing over him one last time before giving him space to finish undressing.

You peeled off your sticky bra and underwear, reaching for the soft, worn t-shirt of his that always ended up in your drawer no matter how many times he looked for it. It still smelled faintly like cedar and fabric softener and the faintest trace of him.

You tugged it over your head and pulled on your cotton sleep shorts, the ones that rode up your thighs just a little too high for modesty but were impossibly soft and broken in from so many washes. You raked your fingers through your hair and gave it a twist into a bun.

When you turned back around, Bob had finished changing. His black dress shirt was now a forgotten memory in the hamper, and in its place: those loose grey sweatpants that always hung low on his hips and that godforsaken navy blue t-shirt. The one that clung to his shoulders and arms, fitted just enough to be devastating.

You stared.

Groaned.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, dragging a hand down your face, “You change out of that hot button-up and then put something even hotter on? Bob, how you torture me.”

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck like he couldn’t quite believe you were talking about him like that. “St–Still not used to me being in something fitted, hm?”

You stepped toward him, swaying your hips a little just because you could, and reached up to playfully tug at the hem of his shirt. “Never. And I don’t think I ever will be. It’s always a wonderful sight.”

You kissed him again, slower this time–more lips, less breath. Your hand splayed across the center of his chest, feeling the firm, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

He let out a low, soft moan into your mouth. Just a small one.

Enough to make you feel like you could melt into the hardwood.

When you pulled back, both of you a little flushed and breathless, Bob leaned his forehead against yours again. “Le–Let’s make some tea and relax together, hm?”

You nodded, and as you turned toward the door, he gave your butt a playful tap.

You gasped and looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

He had the nerve to look innocent, “Just giving yo–you a little love tap of encouragement.”

——————————

The kitchen was dim and glowing when you reached it, lit only by the under-cabinet lights and the golden cast from the hallway lamp.

You moved automatically, hips brushing each other in the small space as Bob pulled two mugs down from the cabinet–your favorite one with the little chip in the rim, and his black one with the faded NASA logo. The kettle was already humming on the stove, steam beginning to whisper from the spout.

You hopped up onto the counter while he reached for the tin of ginger peach tea you both loved. He spooned loose leaves into the steeper, the soft clink of metal against ceramic the only sound for a moment.

You pulled your phone from the pocket of your sleep shorts and opened your Spotify, immediately tapping into the playlist you’d been building in slow, indecisive spurts over the past few months.

“first dance???????”

The title said it all.

And now–tonight–you were scrolling through it with a dull ache in your stomach. Too many ballads. Too many lyrics about heartbreak or metaphors that felt too heavy. Everything either felt choreographed or too raw.

Behind you, Bob poured hot water over the tea, the scent of ginger and an array of mixed dried fruits beginning to warm the air. The kitchen slowly filled with that calm, earthy sweetness you always associated with late nights and deep conversations. He set your mug beside you, but you barely registered it.

Bob said something–something quiet and offhanded, voice soft and low–but you didn’t catch it.

”Hm?” You murmured, still staring at the list of songs, scrolling more and more down the list. He shook his head, smiling.

”Nothing. Yo–You’re busy.” You finally looked up from the screen, locking your phone and putting it beside you.

”No, I”m sorry. Go ahead and repeat what you said.” You said gently. He picked up his mug, leaning beside you on the counter, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

”I just said…We don’t ne–need to stress out about picking the perfect song…We’ll be fine.” He reassured.

“Bob…” You sighed, setting your hand over his, “We have not really been blessed with the skill of being rhythmically inclined.” He let out a soft huff of amusement, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“So we sway ar–around a little bit for a few minutes…” He said, voice low, warm. “As long as I’m with yo–you, nothing else matters.” He pulled his hand from your thigh to reach for your mug of tea and held it out to you, like he was presenting a peace offering. “Now… drink yo–your tea and relax a bi–bit.” You took the mug with a sigh, exaggerating the frown on your face as you wrapped your fingers around it and brought it to your lips. The steam brushed your cheeks, warm and soothing, as you took a slow sip–sweet, herbal, grounding.

But when you looked over the rim of your mug, Bob was watching you with that expression. The one that said he knew exactly what you were thinking before you said it.

He shook his head and sighed, low and fond. “Alright…” He murmured, dragging out the word with performative defeat. “Let me go grab my sp–speaker, and we can go through a few songs…”

Your lips curved up immediately, hope fluttering in your chest. “Thank you.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead–soft, slow, lingering. “On–Only I would do this for my future wife.”

You let out a small, genuine laugh, “I’m honoured.” You replied quickly, watching as he turned and padded out of the kitchen.

Moments later, he returned, speaker in hand. He turned it on, the soft hum and flash of blue light indicating it was connected. As he returned to his space beside you, you unlocked your phone and handed it to him.

Bob opened the playlist, scrolling with one thumb while the other cradled the speaker against his hip.

“Pl–Plainsong by The Cure is great…” He said thoughtfully. “But do we really wanna be on that da–dance floor for five minutes?”

You smirked, sipping your tea. “Okay, you’re right…Let’s aim for something a bit shorter.”

Bob chuckled and scrolled again, brow furrowing slightly in concentration. “Yo–You’ve got so many songs on this pl–playlist. How the hell are we gonna decide?”

You shrugged, tapping your finger against your mug. “We whittle it down until we’ve got a top five…Then try dancing to them?”

Bob sighed, resigned. “Alright…” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could spiral. His skin flushed pink almost instantly under your lips.

You lost track of time after the fifth or sixth song.

What started as a forty-track playlist and a long list of indecisiveness had finally been whittled down to something manageable—five songs. Five contenders for the first dance of your lives. By now, your mugs were long emptied and pushed aside on the counter, forgotten in the warmth of focused decision-making and the lazy comfort of each other’s presence.

Bob leaned his elbows on the counter beside you, scrolling through the final list. “Okay…” he exhaled. “We’ve got—it down to five songs. Which one do you want to start with?”

You hummed, stretching your arms above your head with a quiet groan. “Let’s do Sea of Love first.”

Bob offered his hand to help you down from the counter, steady and warm as always, and you took it without hesitation. Your bare feet touched the tile floor with a quiet sound, and a soft click followed as he pressed play.

The song drifted in gently—delicate and dreamy, like something meant for twilight and candlelight and hands held close to the chest.

Bob stepped toward you, and you met him in the middle of the kitchen. His hand found the small of your back while the other cradled yours carefully in his own. You rested your free hand just beneath his shoulder, fingertips grazing the curve of his bicep, your body sinking easily into his.

The music wrapped around you both like steam curling through warm air. You moved together in small, uncertain sways–barely even dancing, really. Just shifting with the rhythm. But it felt right.

He looked down at you, cheeks tinged with color, his eyes soft.

“Wh–What do you think people usually talk about when they’re actually doing th–this?” he asked quietly.

You let out a breath of laughter, gaze flicking upward to meet his. “Probably mundane things… I hope.”

He smirked, eyebrows raising with mock seriousness. “Did we lock the doors? Di–Did we invite too many guests?”

You laughed a little harder at that, your hand tightening lightly in his. “How long do we have to be here before we can go home?”

He chuckled, dipping his head close, his nose brushing yours. “I’ll start pr–preparing conversation starters in the morning.”

His hand moved slowly, absentmindedly, up and down the small of your back–just enough to soothe, enough to ground you. You leaned into him a little more, letting your cheek brush his collarbone, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your palm.

After a quiet moment, you whispered, “Do you think Sentry’s going to come out tomorrow?”

His chest lifted with a deep inhale. “Ye–Yeah. Probably,” he said softly. “I do–doubt he wouldn’t. I’ll be so ov–overwhelmed with happiness, he’ll definitely be taking the wheel at so–some point.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. “I think my extended family will be very surprised to meet him.”

Bob gave a short breath of laughter and kissed your forehead with a smile that barely concealed his nerves. “We’ll really be ma–making memories at that point.”

You held him closer, letting your fingers trace slow circles along the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, it was just the music, the warmth of his body, and the quiet in-between.

And then the next song began to play.

You hadn’t even realized the first track had ended.

It came in slow, barely there at first–soft, careful guitar strums like someone thinking out loud, hesitant and full of longing. The vocals followed, almost whispered, harmonized gently by a second voice that lingered like a ghost. The whole thing felt like standing outside on a rooftop under a navy sky, wrapped in a blanket, forehead pressed to someone else’s.

Your breath caught.

Bob’s hand stilled against your back, and neither of you said anything.

The song continued–gentle strings winding under the fragile weight of each lyric. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t theatrical. It sounded like two people trying to hold a quiet moment in their palms and not break it.

You slowly looked up at him.

His blue eyes were glassy in the low kitchen light. Not crying–just brimming with tears that were threatening to escape.

“This one…” He said softly, voice barely above a whisper, “Fe–Feels like us…Wh–What is it called?” You coughed slightly, clearing your throat from the lump that was beginning to form.

”It’s called The Moon Song.” You replied, smiling a bit. He held you tighter, his thumb brushing a slow arc over your spine.

”It’s perfect…”

And without saying another word, the two of you swayed together in the center of your shared kitchen as the soft voices wrapped around you like the stars themselves had come inside to listen.

[fisheito]

devs are JERKkin me around- like, wELL-----

[fluffyfangirl]

based on that one video from the stranger things experience

[windydrawallday]

WING HOLD

[Part I] & [Part II] And that's it! Extra fluff happy ending 💙✈️❤️️

Even if recycling panels, for my first sequence done with TFs characers is quite an achievement on its own!

Shame to say though: I probably can't make new art in time as planned (I got recent important stuff to deal with irl) but you know what? I enjoyed a ton sharing and looking back at old art. And remember that it can be old for me but fresh for all of you who have never seen it before! And I'm super happy it brought smiles to each one of you: thanks for the support 💞💞💞

And please: if you are still hungry for MORE art of this pairing, I suggest checking @skystarweek 's tumblr blog, socials, and tag. There's lots of amazing art poured for what lasts of the event (and even cool art from past events you can support) so, go on and give them some love!!

[egophiliac]

What was your favorite of the flashbacks in Silver’s walk?

the acorn bracelet is VERY good, but I really really love Malleus humming (hummalleus? hummus?) to Silver. especially now that the song has Context. >:) we are in a soup of angst and I'm here with a spoon in each hand and a silly straw that leads directly to my brain.

[myokk]

My drawing gremlin days are coming back so here is some of the art I’ve done this last week and a half♥️♥️♥️ LOT of pencil, ballpoint pen, and some digital art WIPs when it gets dark/im on the train🫶

[seokminfilm]

light | jeon wonwoo

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

warnings: non-idol au, friends to lovers, fluff, kissing, mentions of the beach, hugging (physical touch in general), wonwoo & reader are on a date (as platonic friends), (they're not platonic anymore), so fluffy dear god

now playing: light, wave to earth & apocalypse, cigarettes after sex

The salt air tickled your nose as your feet hit the sand, and Wonwoo walked quietly beside you, hands in his shorts pockets as he looked ahead of him. He smelled like faint cologne and sea salt, and his frames glinted in the shimmering moonlight as he looked over to you.

"Did you have fun?" His voice was deeper than the ocean stretching miles away in front of you, and you looked to him, nodding as you looked down at your sandles. "I did, Wonwoo. Thank you for all of it." 

Jeon Wonwoo and you were on a date—an official, planned out date, with a set time and place and everything. You two had been friends for a long time, and it was obvious that there was something between you, as stated by your mutual friends.

As friends, you had put off the date for a while, still hanging out as just the two of you did normally, even if people called it a date. You had finally had enough of your friends and their whining, and Wonwoo and you decided to go on an official date to appease the hungry crowd (that being your nosy friends).

Even though you and Wonwoo did what the two of you always do—walk around town, stop in shops to browse and buy, and finish your night at the beach while sharing some street food—it felt different, for some reason. The air between you two wasn't suffocating, but wasn't as light as it usually was. There was a weight in the air, one you could sense as you breathed silently beside your friend.

"The water feels so good." You say aloud, toes getting a splash of sea water as you slip them off. Wonwoo takes them in his hands, smiling at you as you wade out a little bit, letting water engulf your legs as drops of it stain your skirt.

The night sky sparkles with stars you never noticed during your nights with Wonwoo here, and the streetlights in the distance lit the sand farther away from you with a soft, inviting glow.

"Wonwoo, come on!" You wave out to him, and Wonwoo laughs nervously, eyes crinkling as he cracks a smile. "I don't want to get wet, [Y/N]. I just took a shower before we left my apartment." He frowns slightly, but you know he isn't actually sad.

"Wonwoo, please! It'll be fun! Plus, it feels good," You bargain, and Wonwoo sighs, laughing to himself as he places your sandals farther away from the rising tides. He slips off his shoes too, sighing as he places his glasses in his shoe before making his way into the ocean. He moves stiffly towards you, obviously not very elated to be in the water, but smiling because you look so happy in this moment.

You reach out to him, hands sliding up his hands and forearm as you pull him to you. He laughs at the impact, and you do too, stumbling at the tide's waves as your hair brushes the water a few inches below you.

Wonwoo's sharp gaze watches your expression change as the moonlight dances across the water, lighting up your back and appearing as if you have an aura around you. You look like an angel to Wonwoo, innocent and pure with nothing but love and goodness in you. It makes him nervous, how beautiful you look.

"Wonwoo?" You question, noticing how quiet he's gotten. He's still looking at you, dark eyes piercing yours as he smiles just slightly. "I'm sorry. You just look—" Your head tilts just slightly, hair falling across your shoulder as you look up at him with confused eyes. "I look?"

"You just look so pretty." Wonwoo says softly, and you blush, not hearing something like that come from Wonwoo's lips before. Your stomach filled with this warm, fuzzy feeling, and your eyes widened, taking all of Wonwoo in as he fell silent again.

The only sound that was between you was the constant wash of the waves against the shore and the crickets and other night insects and animals that may have been running around.

The air was warm and salty around you, quickly enveloping you in a warmness you hadn't felt before. Your body was warm with Wonwoo's touch, and you couldn't help but close your eyes, too in the moment to keep them open.

Wonwoo stared as you did so, lips pink and pretty as he did a double take. The feeling in his chest was getting hard to ignore, and he couldn't seem to think rationally as he stared at your droplet-dusted cheeks and damp hair. Before he knew it, his hands were wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him, hugging you tight as he let out a sigh against you.

His nose was buried in your hair, and the sweet shampoo and salt mixed together to create this smell that comforted him and calmed him down, allowing him to think of what he wanted to do to you.

He wanted to kiss you, hold you against him as he told you he had loved you since you two had met in the coffee shop two years ago. Wonwoo wanted to let you know how special you were to him, and how important you were to who he was as a person.

Wonwoo was ready to love you, and he was hoping you would be ready to love him back.

"Wonwoo." You said gently, opening your eyes as you pulled back from him slightly. You were thinking the same things Wonwoo was at this moment in time, and it came easy to you as you leaned in, following Wonwoo's lead as his lips finally touched yours.

The kiss sent sparks through your body like fireworks, and you allowed yourself to bring your hands to Wonwoo's tousled hair as he sighed against you.

Time slowed, as if it stopped to watch this turning point in you and Wonwoo's relationship, cheering you on for making the move. Your whole body felt like it was made of sparkles, warm bursts of light that ran through your blood.

When you finally came to and pulled away, you and Wonwoo let out a breath in sync, both blushed and ragged from the kiss. Wonwoo's sharp eyes looked at you as he pressed his nose to you, and you took him in, hands in his as he opened his lips to speak.

"I love you. I've loved you ever since—" 

"Ever since we met at the coffee shop." You finish, and Wonwoo pauses, surpised as you laugh lightly. "I've loved you since then." You say, and Wonwoo smiles, hand cupping your cheek as he nods.

"Me too." He says simply, and the two of you go quiet again, lost for words as you stand in each other's embrace once again.

"I'm ready to love you, if you're ready to love me." You whisper, and Wonwoo pauses, breath stuck in his chest as he watches you. It's as if you took all the words from his mouth without trying. He couldn't speak, too overwhelmed by you to even function properly. It took everything in him to not kiss you again. 

He just nodded, a smile on his face as he slowly leaned in. His lips brushed against yours ever so lightly as he replied with a whisper just a few seconds later.

"I've been ready." 

feedback & reblogs are appreciated! i read every comment or repost you leave :)

[canisalbus]

Happy birthday!

.

[hitorimaron]

Inspired by You asked me for my lighter, I gave you my fire by @chupenguin