#back on that sappy shit!

[professorjirt]

I’ve discovered my favorite genre of Bagginshield art is where Thorin is a lovesick idiot who is Losing It and Bilbo is unbothered or oblivious to Thorin’s suffering LMAO

[livwritesstuff]

happy halloween bbys :) speaking of babies i felt like writing steddie w/ a little one again so here have this

On the morning of Halloween ‘01, Steve wakes up before Eddie, as he tends to.

He typically wakes up with their three month old, Moe – feeds her breakfast, gets her dressed for the day, soaks up all the time he can get with their girl before he has to head off to work.

Today is special though, seeing as it’s Halloween.

Steve and Eddie had agreed to not do anything big for Halloween this year while Moe is still so little – no trick-or-treating, that is. Steve had suggested getting a sitter for the evening so the two of them can go to that bar they like that does a whole Halloween night every year, but Eddie, like Steve, isn’t all that inclined to do anything that doesn’t also include Moe, so instead they’ll be ordering takeout from their favorite place in Chinatown and watching a horror movie after Moe goes to bed.

Eddie is fine with keeping things low-key this year, mostly because he knows that Steve knows they'll be going all out with all the subsequent Halloweens in their future. What Eddie doesn’t know is that while Steve had been running errands the other day, he just so happened to pass by the baby section of a clothing store, which had their Halloween selection on full display and Steve hadn’t been able to help himself.

Moe is all kinds of smiley this morning while Steve goes through the motions of their morning routine, getting in his fix of baby-snuggles before heading downstairs and feeding her breakfast while he starts up the coffee machine (for Eddie more than for himself – he thought having a brand new baby in the house might be the final straw that tipped him over to coffee drinker status, but he’s still perfectly fine with a cup of tea). She's still all smiles as Steve gets her dressed in the little outfit he’d hidden away from Eddie after he bought it last week – a puffy, quilted yellow onesie with big black stripes and felt antennae on the hood, tiny little white wings on the back, and a felted stinger on the bum. It’s not really a costume – not the way Eddie would define Halloween Costume, anyway, but it’s close enough, and anyways Eddie has always been a sucker for seeing their kid dressed up all cute. It’s a guaranteed home run in Steve’s opinion.

Like he usually does, Steve brings Moe into his and Eddie’s bedroom to wake him up.

“Morning,” Steve says cheerfully as he plops Moe onto Eddie’s chest. Eddie gives a sleepy grumble before his eyes crack open. It only takes him half a second to realize that Moe’s not exactly wearing her normal attire, and then Eddie’s got a big, bleary grin on his face as he takes the whole thing in.

“Are you my little bug, Lucy-Moe?” Eddie says as she scoops her into his arms and plants kisses all over her chubby cheeks until she's got a big drool-y smile on her face and she's making those little sounds that Steve is pretty sure means her first laugh is on its way. Eddie looked up at Steve with something like wonder on his face, "You said no costume."

"Uh, no. I said no trick-or-treating," Steve replied. Eddie leveled an eyebrow at him, so he said, "C'mon, man. It's her first Halloween."

"God, I love you so much Steve Harrington."

[crunchchute]

Sam and Max if they were cool /j

[yokai-girlie]

Do you know it’s good to feel too much?

So far my summer has consisted of listing to the Hannah Montana soundtrack on loop and crying over Jujutsu Kaisen

[lizstiel]

Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table eating meatloaf when it all sort of hits – and he’s desperate to remember it exactly how it happened.

With his fork raised halfway to his mouth, a dollop of meat and sauce perched precariously on the tines, his eyes wandered over to where Cas stood by the sink in a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. (One of Dean’s old t-shirts, because once Cas gets his shoulders into them they never really sit the same way.)

He’s got soap up to his elbows, scrubbing methodically at the dishes Dean just dirtied, his brow a taught, concentrated line. He’s bringing the same kind of meticulous focus to the dishes that he used to bring to leading the armies of Heaven; that singular kind of attention, both unnerving and admirable. (Dean had once tried to explain that he didn’t need to wash them quite so vigorously, to which Cas had deadpanned, “Do you know how many food particles remain on the dishes you wash, Dean?” It quickly became his job, after that.)

It’s early July. About 6:30pm. The window over the sink is cracked, and the front door is wide open, letting the sound of cicadas and crickets drift in with the summer breeze. The sun’s starting to set behind the field, casting the world in that particular orange glow that has always made something in Dean ache. In the other room, the record player Sam got them for Christmas plays a beat up Janis Joplin record he’d found at a secondhand store in town. The opening chords of Me and Bobby McGee have just started, and the cicadas are humming, and the crickets are singing, and the sun is setting, and Cas is standing in old pajamas washing dishes Dean just used to make them dinner and –

Cas tilts his head.

This isn’t revolutionary. He does it a lot. A very ingrained behavior, some might say. But he isn’t confused, he’s reacting. To the song. He doesn’t react to music the way Dean wants him to, never has, but in his own way, it’s almost like he’s leaning closer to hear it. An infinitesimal thing. The smallest gesture. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Dean has never loved him more than he does at this moment: backlit by a summer sunset in their house in the middle of nowhere, hand washing dishes and listening to Janis Joplin.

Cas turns when the sound of Dean’s fork clattering on the plate sounds, but Dean just scoops him into his arms, chases any worries away with a kiss, and then another, and then one more for good measure. Cas laughs against his mouth, desperately trying to keep his soapy arms away from Dean’s dry clothes. “Dean,” he chides, squirming and chuckling, trying to extract himself from Dean’s grip. “I’m not finished.”

“I’ll get ‘em tomorrow,” Dean promises, peppering sweet little kisses down the line of Cas' throat. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. It tickles all the way down. “Love you so much,” he says, because he wants to. Because he’s so full with it he’s overflowing. Because if he doesn’t tell him right now, in this moment, and every moment after this one, he might die. He needs him to know. It’s vital that he knows.

Cas’ laughter warms, and he slides one soapy hand to the back of Dean’s neck, eyebrows raised in challenge when he shudders at the sensation. When Dean doesn’t immediately shoo him away, he slides the other soapy hand up Dean’s arm. “Dean?” He’s not worried, the timber of his voice is honey-smooth and light, but he’s confused. Not that Dean doesn’t tell him often, and loudly, how much he loves him, but to be fair this did kind of come from nowhere, so he understands. It’s just much too much. It’s not enough and it’s everything. It’s everything in the world Dean has ever wanted.

Janis Joplin is singing freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, and Dean’s arms are loose around Cas’ waist, and he loves him, god he loves him so much, so he kisses him on one corner of the mouth, and then the other. Janis says, nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no, no – and he rocks their bodies together, slow, to the beat of the music. Cas’ arms come to wind around his neck automatically, and his smile starts to sprawl into something reserved for only the really good moments. Wide and gummy and for Dean – and feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues. He presses his forehead to Cas’ and they just sort of sway there like that, smiling at each other like this might be the last chance they ever get.

Cas says – “I love you, Dean,” just as Janis is singing, you know feelin’ good was good enough for me – and it occurs to Dean that he’s dancing in the kitchen with the love of his life. He thinks back to the longest, loneliest nights he spent staring up at the night sky, believing wholly he’d die bloody and alone on the backend of some random hunt, and how the smallest (but loudest) part of him had wished for exactly this. For someone to hold him and see him and dance in the kitchen with him, barefoot and covered in soap.

He kisses the tip of Cas’ nose, the lines under his eyes. Doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cas is wiping tears away with the pads of his thumbs and soothing hands through his hair. He’s crying, too. Laughing and crying and telling Dean he loves him, he loves him so much, he’s loved him from the first moment he saw him.

It settles in Dean then – really settles deep, and true, and good – that he was meant for this. He wasn’t born to be a weapon. Wasn’t born to be a son, or a father, or a brother. Wasn’t born to save the world or to end it – was just meant to dance. His arms were meant to hold. To sway them both around the cheap linoleum floor, to sling low around Cas’ waist and spin them both ‘til they were dizzy with it.

They laugh and kiss and Janis is saying – good enough for me and Bobby McGee – and Dean is thinking – Yeah. Yeah, it really is.

[mamayan]

I want my mutuals to know—

I OBSESS over your work. I ain’t even playin’ around here. I’ll be balls deep in a fantasy world YOU created, in my own mind at all times of day, just frolicking around in the world YOU built.

Give yourself more credit. Give yourself more time. Give yourself more rest.

True fans give space, appreciation, and understanding for life happening outside.

[solradguy]

Happy Valentine's Day

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) if wilson is inebriated and focused on house, he also tends to get territorial. it doesn't look it though so the growling and sudden wave of mine/go away/rude/not yours comes as a surprise

[wraithsoutlaws]

in rattus rattus au dum dum is still in maelstrom though not as high up in rank, and he sees dagger for the first time at totentanz, starting a brawl with some people there and getting his ass kicked and laughing the whole time and he's kinda fascinated by the stupidity of him and just sort of keeps him on his radar the rest of the night but doesn't actually say anything to him until he sees him outside later on trying to steal his car which is so Obviously a maelstrom car which makes him that much more intrigued about this absolute dumbass so he can't help but give him a ride to wherever he needs to go and they bond over music on the drive and dagger waxes poetic about how shit the music world is and how everything is so fake and soulless and how in a city that is so obsessed with beauty, and where perfection is literally for sale, then choosing to be Bad and Ugly is the only true form of rebellion and thus freedom and that's how their horrible awful little band is born

[livwritesstuff]

so those following my steddie-dads series may know that Steve and Eddie named their daughters after important people in their life. Moe (or Lucy Maureen) gets her middle name from Eddie’s mom. Robbie (Amelia Robin) is named after Robin, obviously. Their third and final baby Hazel’s middle name is James, after Hopper.

In the aftermath of all the shit they went through in Hawkins, it didn’t take long for Jim to add Steve to his collection of “kids who pretend to be punching bags for people they care about” (his words). By the time Steve was stepping into adulthood, Hop was Steve’s dad in everything but blood and legal title (and that was even before Steve’s estrangement from his actual father), and when Hazel was born in 2007, he and Joyce were Steve’s second call (Robin being the first, obviously). 

Two days later, their plane touched down in Boston.

Hazel was asleep when they arrived, and didn’t stir even while Steve passed her into Hopper’s arms

“Christ, she’s small,” Jim says quietly, looking down at the little baby.

“She’s actually bigger than Robbie was,” Steve replies, “Crazy different from the older two now though.”

For a second, Steve just watches, watches as Hopper adjusts the sleeping baby, watches him run a finger over her little cheek.

“Did you see her name, hon?” Joyce asks him, gesturing to the name embroidered on Hazel’s little hat (Steve had told her the name in advance, learning from experience that it wasn’t wise to catch them both off-guard at once).

Steve watches Jim squint to read the pink stitching, holding back a dumb comment about how he needed his glasses.

“Hazel…James,” Hop mumbles. He pauses, clears his throat, “That’s…what a name. Where’d you guys come up with that one.”

“After you,” Steve tells him, “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Jim is quiet for a long time, and Steve couldn’t say anything else around the tightness in his throat even if he wanted to, so he stays quiet too while Ed wraps an arm around his waist and presses a firm kiss to the side of his head. 

“It’s a big honor,” Hopper finally says, his voice wrecked, not taking his eyes off the baby.

Steve can only nod.

“Well deserved,” Eddie tells him seriously, “She’s got big shoes to fill.”

Then, because he can’t help himself, he adds, “And if she starts spilling classified government secrets, we’ll know who to blame.”

[saturnsorbits]

Bakugo 100% teaches you some kind of code; so he can always check in - just in case anything ever happens to either of you.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a hushed word whispered into his ringing ears after he winds up in the hospital. His body bruised and broken, nerves too frayed to feel the warmth of your palm on his.

An awkward hand gesture he flashes during a TV interview as he makes his way home from a no-contact overseas mission.

Or a giggled ‘…’ as he calls you, checking in because his patrol has run a little long.

He just wants to know you’re okay… And that wherever he is, he’s thinking about you.

[byanyan]

so anyway, thanks for reading my little dissertations on byan's gender. sorry for not writing again today, i'm just. i'm fuckin goin through it rn man

[euesworld]

"I love it when you smile, I love it when you laugh, I love it when you tell me you love me and never take it back.."

I love it when you smile, I love it when you're happy.. it's just so easy to be sappy when you are with me - eUë

[slidethirtysix]

me being a fool thinking "jesse is alright" until i start replaying control and get hit with a wave of "i love this woman so much, she is so chill while also being a bit of a clown but also girlbossing her way around the fbc."

[pepperpixel]

Hello! I watched your speedpaints on repeat when I was in middle school (like 6 years ago) and sometimes still go back and watch them for the sake of nostalgia and good music. I just wanted to let you know you’ve touched my life and left a print, thank you 🤍

Thank you. So so much. For sending me this??? The me who made all those youtube videos. Doesn’t exist anymore. Life got harder. In so many new and horrible ways. And that like. Spark to create kinda died. And also I had more important shit to worry about all of a sudden. But. Knowing that it left on impact on someone enough to send me a message. Years after I’ve stopped making them tho. Idk.. that means something.. I appreciate you didn’t forget about me! (/my videos lol. I kno u don’t kno me. My vids and art feel a bit like. An extension of me tho? In a way. But I kno that it’s not a 1:1 thing. My art an videos express thoughts ideas and feelings of mine. But they are not. Me. Just lil slivers of me.. Tiny lil portions from specific moments in time.)

Sometimes it feels like those videos were just a flash in the pan. A brief moment of attention and fame I didn’t grab onto hard enough… and now the moments long gone. but. I didn’t rlly want to grab onto it, I just wanted to make fun videos. And show off my music taste lol. And express. The music videos my brain would create in my head into the real world. And then I got too busy w real life kicking my ass. (Ps. life has now stopped kicking my ass!! It’s gotten better. Just. Not the same as it was before) Maybe I’ll get back into it one day. If I have any new ideas. Once I get stable and know what I’m doing. And get like an iPad or something so I don’t have to wrangle w my laptop lol. But yeah!!! Srry.. I’m rambling a lot.. this message just made me emotional ok! I’m being openly vulnerable in turn hopefully that’s not too weird lol. I’m happy my videos had an impact on your life!! That means. A fucking ton. Like. Words cannot properly express the weird happy feeling that gives me in my heart. Thank you so much!! For real!!! Srry for getting all in depth about my life again this message just!!! Struck an introspective chord w me!!!

[cleargreyskies]

7 months, 7 days, and I have finished campaign 2 of Critical Role.