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sun-roach · 8 months

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König loves you just so you know 💛

JFBNFNFNFNFNFNNDNDNDNDNDNNDNDNDNDNNDNDNDNDNDNNDMYMYMYMMDMDM

🧡👑🧡👑🧡👑🧡👑🧡👑🧡👑🧡👑🧡👑🧡

I luv him too 😳😌👀🥺✨👑🧡

#könig🥺#i luv him #precious austrian babygirl #want to hug him so bad #nönig #könig cod #könig modern warfare #liv? the yellow heart is u🧡#ily🧡

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intheorangebedroom · 25 days

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Beautiful person award

Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💚

You.

I fucking love you so much it's illegal in Florida, wink wink.

You're the beautifulest 🧡

We need to start planning our next hugs. Like, seriously. I'm talking plane tickets. I miss you too much 🧡

#lovely Jules #I MISS YOUUUUUU 😭#ily🧡

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greg-montgomery · 7 days

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Okay I was just thinking about Hotch wearing reading glasses🥹like later seasons Hotch. I feel like he’d have a bunch of pairs everywhere since he wasn’t used to them in the beginning, wherever he went he forgot to bring them so he thought the best thing was to buy at least two pairs to keep at home, two more in his office (I bet Garcia would keep some back up glasses he doesn’t know the existence of because well she knows about glasses), even in the jet he keeps a pair 🤧🩷 also imagine him buying straps for them so he can let them hang from his neck when he’s not using them

PLS I’LL CRY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭😭

he would look so cute 😭 and pls the glasses hanging from his neck!!!!! peak dilf era 🥺😭💕

he’s so grumpy when he returns from the doctor and announces he needs glasses. but you’re so happy and excited bc you know he’s gonna look sooooo delicious and cute 🦋 and he does!!! you love the new look!!

every time he forgets to wear them if you’re around you let him know soooo fast!! and pls pen keeping an extra pair for him 😭 she so would!!! like imagine them during a meeting, he has to read something and he doesn’t have them with him so she pulls out a pair like “here sir :D” and he’s so ?????? but also grateful 🥹

also jack giggles a lot when aaron starts whining about them lmfao 😭 but you really are the real winner of this situation cause your man looks SO GOOD. and he gets a billion kisses in return <33

#hotch 🪐#cat 🧡#ily bestie 🥺#ask

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writefightandflightclub · 1 year

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Stars for anyone who needs to carry a little extra magic in their pocket today.

✨ ⭐️🌟✨⭐️🌟🌠🌌🌃

#the star is not the source of the magic #you are!#the star is just a reminder 🧡#ILY 😽

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liketheletter-l · 5 months

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Hi!!!! Just wanted to say ur little jester Totally not leo guy is so silly and fun he gives me so much cuteness aggression I need to crumple him into a ball and chew on the porcelain shards. Okay bye hope ur having a good time

Yes you should do all of that please break him into tiny little pieces it'll be good for him!!

it's his fault i bought CMYK markers and stayed up way too goddamn late about these 💔

#THANKS FOR THE ASK ILY #GENUINELY EVERY TIME I SEE YOUR TAGS OR ASKS IT MAKES MY WEEK #LITERALLY. NO BULLSHIT HERE IM GIDDY THE WHOLE SEVEN DAYS #AAAAA ❤️💕💛💖💚💘💞💘🧡💕💚#letter art #letter asks #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt fanart #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leo fanart #rise leo #rise leo fanart #eye strain #tw eye strain #cw eye strain #jester leo #snowglobe au

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litany-writes · 3 months

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What's one thing you'd like to see happen this F1 season?

OSCAR PIASTRI WDC‼️‼️‼️‼️

but more realistically, lando norris first win, PLEASE, especially especially if it’s somewhere like silverstone 🤞🤞🤞

it would also be neat to see someone other than max win, or at least a stronger title fight (ferrari redemption arc⁉️) but honestly i’m not a max hater, it’s just that one person dominating for like the whole season isn’t as interesting to watch

#can you tell i’m a mclaren fan🧡#ty for the ask lovely anon ily <3 #oh and also lando winning at silverstone would be so so cool not just for him for obvious reasons but also for me bc i get to go watch it :#im actually so excited it’s like at least 30% of my will to live rn #litany-speaks #f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #lando norris #max verstappen #charles leclerc

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rebouks · 6 months

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Heeyyy!! It’s Simblr Gratitude Day!! 💖

To celebrate, I’m popping by to let you know how much I appreciate you!

Now, I know I’ve already gushed and gone on mushy rambles at least a dozen times letting you know how amazing I think you are, and how much your stories have meant to me, and how much I appreciate your poses and carpets, and sims and builds… and your kindness and humor and support and encouragement... I’ve said it all before and I’ll probably say it a million times more but THANK YOU for all you do for this community, for sharing your writing and characters and gameplay and creations with us… but most of all, it has been an absolute pleasure getting to know you and laugh with you and get excited about our stories together. If anything, I am inspired by and grateful for you more and more every day. And I cannot wait to see what 2024 holds for you, and for the Finches, and for BRYATT too!

🤗

ahhhhhhhhh lynz plssss IDK WHAT TO DO WITH ALL THIS MUSHY LOVEEE 😭🧡 tysm for being here with me and enjoying my lil pixels and your comments and your manifesting and and and..... AND! for creating your own story to share with us too, ditto abt 2024, let's see what it's got for us!! 👀🤗

#eeeeeeeeee #<3333 #ILY #i'm going to flop into bed full of mush tonight #🧡🤧#gif warning

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baezdylan · 2 days

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hiii hellooo there jo!!! <3 <3 not sure what time it is for you but!!! over here it is absolutely june 2nd already soooo wishing u the absolute loveliest birthday xx you’re genuinely so so lovely + it always makes me so happy to read your posts + see your beautiful creations + bump into you on dash hehehe xx hope your day is filled w sunshine and good music and the best vibes MWAH xx also here is a little amy sketch for youu bc i always think of u when i see her now :)) <3 🌻🌟💫💌🌌💖🌠💕

my birthday is not here yet for me (2 hours ahead to be precise hehe), but goSHHHHHHH thea i just got back home from this mini jazz & blues concert and to open my phone and find THIS in it... what is the equivalent of a christmas tree in the glorious month of june... hm hm... I AM SCREAMING, YOUR AMY ART IS MY FAVOURITE ART AND NOW I HAVE A PIECE MADE SPECIFICALLY FOR ME AND IT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVOURITE AMY LOOKS??? and you painted her hair the same colour mine is :") and it's curly :") like mine is :") AND HER JACKETTTT AND THE STARS STARS STARS STARS STARSSSSS☀️⭐💫💋🌃☀️❣🧡🛸💫🌻🌟 THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE PRESENTS I'VE EVER GOTTEN, I'M SO GLAD I KNOW YOUUUU🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

us right now ⬇️

#amy pond 🌻#art 🎃💋💫#💌restless wind inside a letter box💌#thea 🌟#ILY ILY ILYYYYYY #pinned ☀️🧡🌻

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shinixgami · 2 years

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𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 | 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 1 💥

#bleach #bleachedit #bleach tybw #kurosaki ichigo #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo #shinixgami #my strawberry boy my number one ILY 🧡🧡🧡

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sun-roach · 8 months

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Pretty sure he said vote nova when I was sucking his-

Wow are you that bad at sucking or why is he talking about nova's votes? *pat pat*

It’s okay. Once i am president i will take good care of him… and you *winks*

#JK #ILY🧡#jfndnxnxnyn #VOTE NESS BITCHES #commander fox #cc 1010 #succsuccsuccsuccsuccsuccsucc

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intheorangebedroom · 7 months

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Can we just pretend that this is Frankie whispering I love you to you?

I hope you are feeling better. I miss harrassing you with asks 🧡

@deadmantis my LOVE, I always feel good when you’re in my notifs. This one has kept me awake and drove me crazy, but anything for you. They’re so stubborn, and when they don't want to cooperate... Anyway. I'm not entirely satisfied, but I don't want to keep you waiting any longer. I did my very best for you, I always do, I love you so, so much 🧡 Happy Frankie Friday to you 🧡

Summary: Three words. It's not that complicated.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gabrielle Tourneur (OFC)/French fem!Reader.

Rating: explicit but no filth, just my gothic heart 🔞

Word count: 1.5k

[series masterlist]

Drabble: To Bring You My Love

He enjoys driving home to you nearly as much as he loves staying home with you.

Tonight’s no different, and when Mick Fleetwood’s voice comes up on the truck’s stereo, Francisco Morales smiles to himself in the bright city night.

He kept his promise. He fixed it. Fixed everything. Or close enough, anyway.

Friday evenings are spent at the bar again, the same dim yellow lights, the same moist, yeasty cheap beer smell. The same table.

And Tom’s chair, loudly empty.

Most likely thanks to Will, if he had to guess, and probably on your account more than his. But even Ironhead’s unwavering loyalty can only abide that many faults before his hard, cold rationalism takes over and prompts him to take action.

If Tom’s absence is a consequence Frankie hadn’t anticipated, it’s one he doesn’t regret. He’s heard the man has moved down to Florida, but he doesn’t really care. The further away from you, the better.

Pope doesn’t seem entirely dissatisfied with this new order of things, either.

As for Benny, well Benny just follows suit, like he always does.

The air is still a bit chill between him and Frankie, but they’re getting there, step by step. Frankie’s resentment receding along with his friend’s heartbreak, one drink at a time.

It’s been only two years, and overall, there’s a refreshing, easy balance to their group.

And yet, however meaningful, Tom’s departure is not the most important change.

On Friday nights, like tonight, he’s driving back to you. Whether he’ll find you already sleeping or parking your small Ford after an evening out, you’re here. For real. For good.

He’s nearly home when his phone lights up on the empty passenger seat. His gaze rapidly flickers between the road and the screen, that glares in celadon green in the cabin’s relative darkness. It’s weather alert, forecasting heavy rainfall tomorrow, he’ll have to fight the urge to drive you to the bookstore himself. Maybe he can get away with picking you up at the end of your day? Maybe you’ll let him. You can be stubborn.

He should change that impersonal default lock screen. Put a picture of you, like Santi suggested. Santi, who proudly exhibits Yovanna’s gorgeous smile and luminous beauty to just about anyone who might look at his phone’s screen.

Well, Frankie tried. Turns out he can’t. Not that he doesn’t have any pictures of you in his camera roll. At this point, he has hundreds. And you’re dressed in most of them.

But putting you on display simply feels inappropriate. For years, you’d been his secret. A ghost, a memory. A feeling akin to a curse. He had kept your name silent, protecting the possibility of your existence and the reality of what had happened in the orange bedroom.

Distracted, he re-emerges from his recurring thoughts to find himself at the front door. He considers retracing his steps to check if he locked the tuck before getting into the house, but he can’t bring himself to care. He needs to see you. The living-room’s dark but the bedroom lights are on; he takes off his jacket and gets rid of his boots before walking briskly down the carpeted corridor.

He finds you sitting in bed, the warm glow from the bedside table casting soft orange hues on your soft face. You’re leaning over a thick book, wearing your favourite t-shirt of his, a shapeless grey cotton tee with red letters that spell “Buenos Aires” across the chest. A gift from Izzy, when he was still in the military.

He pauses briefly on the threshold; a broad smile dimples his cheeks.

Your eyes are still lowered on the page when you greet him in a light, happy tone.

“Hey, gorgeous!”

“Hey, querida.”

Your head shoots up at the unusual term of endearment. He steps quickly into the room and turns his back to you to hide his embarrassment, wincing as he undoes his watch and places it on the dresser across from the bed.

“How was the evening? How’re the guys?” you ask, and he can feel your eyes boring into his back.

“Good. All good. Will asked me to tell you Sunday works for him. Apparently you’re supposed to know what that means,” he adds, pulling his plaid shirt above his head.

“Oh, neat!” you exclaim, lying your book face down on the table, wiggling your feet excitedly under the sheet. “The Guggenheim has an exhibition about early 19th century Parisian painters,” you explain.

He smiles to himself again, and proceeds to take off his belt. The heavy buckle produces a metallic thud when it hits the wooden top of the dresser.

Behind his back, your voice comes in suddenly very thin.

“You don’t mind, do you? I never asked.”

He turns, frowning, “Mind what?”

“Me. Being friends with Will. You’re not… jealous or anything, right?”

He’s about to laugh it off, a quip on the tip of his tongue, but something stops him. Something striking, unsettling in its past familiarity and its recent scarcity. It’s in the earnestness of your tone, the sudden solemnity of your gaze.

“What if I am?” he asks instead, pivoting to face you. “What would you do? Would you stop hanging with him?”

“If you asked me, yes, I would.”

“Jesus, Gabrielle, no,” he sighs, and the sting in his chest is equal part anger and regret. The consistent stab that tears at him whenever you unwillingly reveal what you put yourself through.

He crosses the bedroom in two strides to come sit by your side on the edge of the bed.

“I’d never even consider asking you something like that, baby. Why would I–”

He trails off at your hardening face.

You’ve straightened up in his t-shirt, and his eyes dart to your legs; with two fingers, he pinches the white sheet covering them to pull it down, revealing your underwear, and a purple mark in the shape of a pear that his mouth drew on your inner thigh this morning.

He looks at it when he says, “You’re a free woman. And I know you’re mine.”

The contradiction settles like placid water in the amber light between your two bodies, inexplicably logical, perfectly natural.

And the words come up in his chest, from his gut, an ancient rising tide.

“I love you, Gabrielle.”

They ring out around you in the quiet bedroom, incongruous, not unpleasant. Warm, intimate, orange.

He loves you. Of course, he does. You know he does, you’ve always known. You’ve always loved him too.

You’ve loved him young and carefree when it was easy and it was just the two of you. You’ve loved him to safety through countless godless nights. You’ve loved him back to you, you’ve loved him sinful and hurt, you’ve loved him without shame.

Yet, your breathing stops, your eyes widen. You remain silent.

He lets out a disheartened chuckle, before the crease in his brow deepens and his whiskered jaw gives that telling tick that you dread. You follow his dark gaze, it’s strained on the mark on your thigh, and he swallows thickly, licking his lips and you can’t feel your legs.

“Please,” he murmurs, so low, nearly silent, and it’s right there, bright and burning against your ribcage, but it won’t come out, your mouth is too dry and your lips won’t open.

He doesn’t lift up his eyes, instead his hand goes to your hip. He gives it a little squeeze, and you register the sensation, it travels up your body in slow ripples.

He pulls you in, sits you in his lap in a straddle, his hands roaming over your sides under his t-shirt. You let him seek the contact of your skin, how many times have the two of you sat like that? On the bed, on the floor, on the couch. In the truck or under a tent...

His denim feels too rough under your soft flesh. You recoil from the heat of his palms when he cups your face, but he catches you, firm and strong and he will never let go.

His eyes are alight with unshed tears, or perhaps it is yours, because your vision blurs when they finally meet.

“I need to hear you say it back. Please.”

In that tiled bathroom with the yellow light, all those years ago, you had nearly said it. To tame the wild look in his dark eyes when he had realised and briefly got scared. So early but not too soon, and the words had felt far too small in comparison to the feeling itself. You had chosen to soothe him with your touch.

You’d been the hopeful one, then, trustful and fearless.

Today, he is guiding you. With a light pressure of his thumb on your lower lip, the sharp edge of his nose brushing along your temple, his hand at the base of your neck grounding you, so you won’t go missing again.

“It’s ok, baby,” he says, and you feel his words more than you hear them with the white noise filling your brain, “I know you do. Just say it. I got you.”

You close your eyes, inhale his scent. You take his hand.

“Je t’aime.”

****