#but mostly soft

[softleesam]

why can't i lay in someone's lap like a pup and get scratches and attention?

seems unfair

[gauntlings]

haha what do you mean the mc awakens feelings not felt in centuries. haha but like what do you mean by a human, who you see as weak, weakening something absolute in you???

[littlemrcaprisun]

lemme yell about something ridiculous and that no one wants: vanilla lady al sex

Maybe I’m just craving human touch but imagine this giantess trying so hard to be as gentle as possible with you 🥺 she’s not used to being this easy 🥺 but she wants to take care of you because she knows you need it sometimes 🥺 SOFT 🥺

[arthurgalgo]

soft & sharp

[heartthrummed-a]

@executefaces​ replied: "Can I kiss you?" the rogue has to ask kanata! GHDSJGHS

Politely Request a Smooch // Accepting!

Despite everything, despite the fights and the scoldings and the only semi-resolved tension throughout the years, Kanata remains certain of one thing: she is still very much in love with Mikejima Madara. Even if they butt heads (especially regarding Double Face and the kind of work he does behind the scenes), even if she lashed out and scorned him with an anger she didn’t (and still doesn’t) know how to contain... The simple truth of the matter is that she still loves him, and it seems he somehow still understands that. At least she thinks he does, given the way he stays by her side and even currently allows her to remain comfortably tucked up against his.

How much of it is forced, though? Is it just obligation? Is he only doing his ‘job’? Is it just pity, perhaps? Does he still want this? 

Scrunching her face at the notion, Kanata shakes her head and tries to shove it out of her mind. Didn’t she promise not to hold so much doubt against him? What is she doing, calling his intent into question like this? No, no, don’t doubt him so. Be better than that. Grow from the naive, selfish ‘god’ you used to be. He deserves so much better, after all. 

Especially from her of all people, she thinks.

Perhaps that is why she shifts from snuggling against his side to perching in his lap, a small but warm smile adorning pale features as she cups his face in her hands. So many times has she heard others call her beauty ethereal, but she doubts every word of it, every instance. How could she believe them, when a real ethereal beauty sits before her? This man, this rogue that they tried (and for a while, successfully did) turn her against, is far more wonderful than she could ever be. When she has done nothing but take from him and tear him down, spat venom at him and shunned what he truly is (though recently she has accepted that fact, but that is beside the point), he still allows her to stay close. He still holds her close, still cares for her and treats her the same as he always has. To her, he is like an angel, despite everything. It breaks her heart, really, but warms it all at once. It gives her hope that they might just work this out after all, and perhaps smooth out the rocky road they’ve been stuck on for years. But first, she has to learn to not take him for granted, no? To properly appreciate him, or at least more than she has already? 

To her, the most sensible way to do so is simply through physical affection. It’s her strongest suit (thanks in no small part to him, as she’s recently realized), and beyond that... She does so adore the affection. Receiving it is all well and good, but giving it? Watching the look of surprise that flits across his face and maybe even a reddening of his cheeks? Few things can compare to how wonderful that makes her feel. 

So she leans forward, peppering slow, soft kisses all over his face. To his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his jaw... Wherever she can reach, she presses a feather-light kiss, just a soft brush of lips. A smile still tugs at her lips all the while, and her fingers, too, gently brush where her lips do not trail before sliding gently through his hair. It is always so comforting when he strokes through her hair, after all, so she aims to do the same for him: to comfort, to reassure, to tell him I am here, I love you, I am sorry, I am not leaving you no matter what I made you think. 

She only stops when his hand comes to rest on her cheek, prompting her to draw back and meet his gaze curiously. Kanata goes to ask what might be wrong, if she was going too far or being too much, worry building and anxiety rising― but she finds herself cut off instead.

Can I kiss you?

A laugh escapes the former god, a smile returning even wider now as she shakes her head. After all of that, he still needs to ask permission? It’s sweet, and she appreciates it, but the notion is still so silly to her. Doesn’t he yet know that he can have anything he wants from her? Hell, he already has her everything, her heart and soul and all. A kiss is nothing in comparison, is all too easy (and so willingly) given.

❝I’d be upset if you didn’t kiss me, actually,❞ she half jokes as her hand resumes running carefully through his hair. And yet she is the one to lean in, to close the distance between them and capture his lips in a sweet kiss―

And just as always, when she kisses him, it feels as if all is right in the world again. Like everything has fallen into place, and she is finally at peace.

[leonardperreault]

i discovered vince dunn recently

[foolhcart]

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒     ⸻     @moonjiros​​​   :

☂ — [sender] offers to share their umbrella with [receiver]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑,   the day after the accident.   few are the remembrances that she is capable of deliberately awakening from the profundity of her scarred mind,   for these blurred and achromatic fragments are prone to returning to her only under the shape of grotesque nightmares and bone - chilling terrors.   but there is something that she still remembers   ...   she remembers the kind voice of an equally kind woman,   she remembers the fleeting weight of a gentle hand pressed ‘pon her aching shoulder as she stared through empty and sentimentally dead eyes outside of the window,   to that empty hospital square where two coffins were being carefully settled within a car much bigger and darker than any she had seen before.   𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘚,   had the woman whispered against the numbed ears of the mourning orphan,   𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘒𝘠 𝘈𝘓𝘚𝘖 𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘌𝘚.

and even though minako has long since discovered that the atmospheric phenomenon of rain has absolutely nothing to do with the melancholy of the dead,   she can’t find it in herself to run away from those cold droplets that descend with unhinged fury from the weeping skies above her head.   after all,   if personas and shadows and even the dark hour all exist in spite of what science says,   who can be really certain that someone up there is not actually crying   ?   and thus here she is,   with her petite frame rested against the wall of an unknown building and her ever daydreaming gaze focused ‘pon those same tempestuous clouds that have accompanied oh so many days of her life   (   it was raining when she was told that her parents had died,   it was also raining when she was taken away from her first foster family because she could not be the perfect daughter they had wished for and    𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚   )   . 

but then something happens.   no longer,   is her exposed skin kissed by grievous droplets and above her a shadow is cast by a figure much taller than her own   ...   it takes her but a moment to realize what is happening and the preoccupied expressionism that had formerly settled ‘pon her features is soon replaced by a mellow,   grateful smile.   weight is thus shifted from one foot to the other,   so that she may leave the stability of the cold wall to find a new type of stability in the frame of the moon arcana:   against him,   she leans with foolish abandon,   as if she was the crumbling temple and he was the sole pillar capable of keeping her whole and far away from the alluring embrace of the abyss.   a part of her misses the touch of the rain,   but another part of her greatly prefers the warmth that he effortlessly evokes within her ribcage.   ❝   hello to you too,   shinji.   ❞   voice is mellifluous,   a singsong vocalization that greatly resembles a harmless taunt.   ❝   do you mind if we stay here for a while longer   ?   i actually really like the rain.   ❞

[trappedham]

nobody ask me about my post 3-star ending/"human" Freddy AU or else I WILL NOT shut up about it istg