#Just let me have this

[solstice3839]

just take his hand!! >:(

[planetmars732]

how it feels when i get really excited to talk ab a special interest and my friend goes "yeah you've said that before"

[icomefromthemountains]

YEASSSSS!!!!!!! !!!!!!

[mooseglue]

Do u think they took their lunch breaks together..

[sibylsleaves]

why are you guys talking about tommy. who is that

[coffin-hopping]

this is so incredibly niche (because I’ve seen it literally once lol) but as a brown man I am in love with the hc of brown Arthur Lester

I love when he is drawn, written, or thought of as brown. I love when people take a deeply flawed man who has caused hurt and has hurt himself in the process, but is still given dignity by the narrative. the dignity that is being able to grow and show compassion and love while also being loved. and I love when that dignity is extended just as much to a brown man. when that love and sympathy is extended to a brown man. when that dignity isn’t denied of him just because he’s flawed

[dr-cruces]

Close-ups under cut. ;P

Text: Oh Son of God so powerful yet, cannot escape the gentle fanning of Hypnos' wings.

[vixen7243]

Hairy Dad Bod Price

The way this man’s chest and stomach hair for some reason makes me absolutely feral, and the idea that as he gets a little bit older he’s not completely caught up on keeping his abs toned but his arms and legs. And he does it for you, because when he’s wearing his tight shirts that make your mouth water from the sleeves struggling to not rip around his muscle and stomach on full display just begging for your hands to rest on it and hug it, lay your head down sweetly. His fucking huge thighs, making your thick thighs seem small when sitting next to him, all you want to do is just bite into them like an apple, and when you go down on him you do. Definitely, nipping and giggling as his muscles tighten and your cunt flutters around nothing. He knows that after a shower you’ll always jump him, the water droplets sliding over the soft hair covering his body, leaving you perfect trails for your tongue, kisses and touch. Simply, he never had a fraction of insecure thought when his stomach was starting to get soft because even more than before you craved him.

Hmmmmm yeah, just wanted to post this but that’s bin on my mind all day, sexy dad bob John Price and how this man’s confidence would never waver because of our undying love and desire. 😍🥰

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

As an American southerner it makes me so happy that Sonic says "y'all"

[arvandus]

Still tickled at the idea of Luke being the same height as me because I get to see stuff like this:

And realize that I, too, would have my feet dangling from the Devildom chairs.

[conceptofjoy]

[echo-stimmingrose]

Idc if it's realistic.

Hades has special places in Elysium reserved for Thalia and Percy once they get there.

[obsessiveagony2point0]

Home

Hob gives the boys a living space. Edwin isn’t sure how to feel about this.

—-•—-•—-•—-•—-

Ghost didn’t have homes.

At least, according to Edwin’s understanding they didn’t.

They had haunts, of course, and places their unsettled souls would return to, but they didn’t have homes.

Edwin wasn’t even entirely sure he remembered what a home truly was. He’d spent so long in hell in the same place over and over again, that when he left…he didn’t want to be stuck in the same place. Luckily for him, Charles was willing and enthusiastic to travel and explore.

It wasn’t until the ghostly duo met Hob Gadling that things slowly began to change.

It started with a small, friendly conversation, which grew into the boys coming around to the pub every night to talk and…well, relax. Which was something Edwin definitely wasn’t used to.

One day, Hob ushered them to the basement. He flicked on a light, and Edwin and Charles stared in shock.

It was a whole living space. There were tables and chairs and bookshelves, a couch and plush arm chairs on top of a large, ornate rug.

“It’s not much,” Hob said as he ran a hand through his hair, nervously. “But I didn’t like the idea of you boys not having a place of your own to be able to come back to.” He gave them a small smile. “Ghost or not, everyone needs a space of their own.”

Charles immediately took to their new surroundings, cheering as he claimed the worn couch that had been provided as his very own spot.

Edwin was more hesitant, his mind spiraling. He didn’t want to be locked and trapped to one place. Not again.

A heavy, yet gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him from his mind, and he turned to look at Hob, who was smiling softly at him. “I’m not trying to keep you here, Edwin. You’re free to come and go as you please. I just wanted you to have somewhere you could always come back to.”

Edwin stared a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, Hob.”

Hob grinned, and gave his shoulder a small squeeze before he launched himself onto Charles, who screamed and laughed.

Edwin tried not to latch onto this place. He liked Hob, a lot, and Dream, but he was still wary.

He hadn’t really realized how much he’d become accustomed to their new place until a particular case kept them away for a week.

When they had finally returned, it was the dead of night. They slipped in through the walls and floorboards to their living space, in case Hob was asleep. It was hard to tell when Hob was awake or not. He always kept a lamp on in his flat regardless of the time of day and his sleeping patterns were…strange. Sometimes he was up all hours of the night, and sometimes he wouldn’t sleep for days until Dream came to scold him and make him sleep.

As they entered into the basement Charles let out a happy sigh and slumped onto the worn couch, stretching as he said, “God, it’s great to be home.”

Home.

Edwin paused and looked around the space.

The walls that had been once bare held a mosaic of art Edwin enjoyed as well as odd little knickknacks from Crystal and pictures torn out of magazines that Charles liked. There were plants that Crystal had been growing on the table along with random things Charles had picked up during their adventures. The bookshelves held a strange collection of books that ranged from poetry to history to occult tombs to manga Niko brought in case Edwin wanted to read them. By the door, leaning against the wall, rested Charles cricket bat as well as a coat rack that held ridiculous disguises Charles and Crystal would wear, swearing that they worked.

“Edwin? You ok?”

Edwin blinked, not realizing he was crying until warm tears ran down his face.

Home.

They had a home.

This wasn’t a prison, this wasn’t hell, this wasn’t the attic or the chest.

This was home. His home. His home with Charles and Hob and Dream.

He turned around immediately and went through the wall and up to Hob’s flat. He raised a fist to knock, then hesitated. If Hob was asleep, he certainly didn’t want to wake him, especially since Dream was so insistent that Hob actually sleep…but then again Hob always told them if they needed him, to please get him.

He took a deep breath and knocked. He was surprised to hear Hob say, muffled, “Come in, Edwin.”

Edwin passed through the door and saw Hob leaning over kitchen counter, with a mug in his hands, smiling.

“How…”

“You’d be surprised how the building sounds when you both pass through walls and doors. It’s like an exhale, as if the old place is at ease. Plus…” He grinned. “Dream and Charles don’t knock.” He waved at one of the stools at the counter. “Come, sit. Tell me where you two trouble-makers have been for the last week.”

Edwin smiled a little, settled on the stool, and began regaling to Hob their latest case.

As Edwin finished and Hob turned to fill his coffee again, the ghost boys said, softly, “Thank you, Hob.”

Hob stopped and turned back, tilting his head to one side in confusion. “For what?”

“For…for giving Charles and I place. A…a home.”

The immortal smiled wide and warm. “You don’t need to thank me. I was hoping it would eventually feel like a home to you boys.”

Edwin dropped his gaze to his entwined hands. “It’s been a long time…since a place felt like that. I…honestly thought I had forgotten what a home felt like entirely.”

That same heavy yet gentle hand that had been on his shoulder as reassurance weeks ago now placed itself over Edwin’s hands. He looked up into Hob’s gentle, unchanging face. “No matter how far you travel or how long you’re gone for…you will always have a home here, Edwin. I promise you that.”

Edwin’s smile trembled as his eyes filled with tears, but if Hob noticed he didn’t say. Instead, he gave the young ghost’s hands a small pat. “I’m sure Charles is feeling lonely. Should we continue this downstairs?”

Edwin blinked, slightly confused. “But…I have already told you about the case.”

“Yes, you did, but…” He winked at Edwin. “I always enjoy listening to Charles stretch the truth a little. Weave his tales.”

Edwin chuckled and stood up from where he was seated. As they moved towards Hob’s door, the immortal placed a hand on Edwin’s back.

“By the way, welcome back home, Edwin.”

Edwin smiled.

Yes.

Home.

—-•—-•—-•—-•—-

Im probably gonna post a few of these warm, sweet little headcanon ficlets.

Because I like them and they make me feel good.

Twitter/X•AO3•Pillowfort •Linktree•Bluesky•Ko-fi

[sleepywriter00]

I just wanna write but my brain won't let meee!!!

[theaxolotlkween]

Now usually making a whole iceberg meme dissecting one line of dialogue from a cartoon character would be a sign to go outside and touch grass but I don’t want to go outside and touch grass.

[museqmeg]

It's almost five months later and I'm still screaming and punching the air over the fact that Orange bookended Tristamp's first and last episodes with Meryl and Vash lassoing each other