#bb chat

[diiin]

A connu meilleure semaine

[mycofaerie]

mopey chat sketches

[auuwmk]

semi realism photo studies with jhw :33

[lawlietscaramels]

he's a platypus to me

[oiveyzmir]

Living with Eddie is… well, it’s an experience.

It’s not a bad thing, not in the slightest. There’s nothing Steve loves more than the fact he gets to fall asleep next to the love of his life, wake up to his soft little snores, and go about their lives together. There’s a soft kind of domesticity to it Steve wouldn’t give for the world.

He loves their routine so much he’s even willing to move past the little things Eddie does that make him lose his mind, like the way he never washes the sink properly after doing the dishes or how he constantly leaves the cabinet doors open. He can even move past how Eddie will come home from a late night shift at the bar when it’s raining and forget to take his shoes off, leaving a muddy trail of footsteps anywhere he goes. Hell, Steve’s even willing to excuse Eddie’s phases.

Wayne had warned him about those when they first moved in together three years ago. “It’s just that he gets easily excited about things,” he reasoned then. “Which doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

Steve didn’t get what it meant then.

He surely gets what it means now.

He found something- a bout of inspiration- and hyperfixated on it until moving on to the next. There was this one time Eddie got really into gardening and bought 11 different herb seedlings, only for them to wilt and die three weeks later when he got into water coloring, then moved on to filmography, then to operas.

He had that month once where he’d developed a sudden interest in learning to play the violin (It’s for a song, Stevie, did you ever listen to Skyclad?), so he stayed up until 5 AM to play something that resembled music (but was closer to being nothing but) with the instrument he burrowed from Robin’s then girlfriend. That month was so close to being a breaking point for Steve, but he loves Eddie too much to do anything about it. He honestly believes that if he managed to live through Eddie’s Violin Month he can live through anything.

He lived through Eddie’s sewing phase, his novel-writing phase and his (honest-to-god awful) baking phase, and survived to tell the tale.

Nothing had prepared him for Eddie’s current phase, though.

It seemed harmless at first. It was even kind of adorable, really; the way Eddie’s eyes glinted with excitement when he sat Steve down to watch him do a cute little card trick, the way he laughed triumphantly when it was, in fact, Steve’s card.

It got less cute when Eddie got himself cuffed to their bedpost for hours in the most unsexy way Steve could imagine, refused Steve’s offer to let him out and making him feed him since his hands were, well, preoccupied.

It also wasn’t cute when Eddie stabbed himself with a pencil in attempt to make it disappear.

But it’s plain rude now, when Steve’s trying to get a little nap after a terrible day at the school where he’s started teaching. Eddie knows he’s sleeping, Steve made sure to call him on his way home and let him know he had a bad day and that he’ll be spending as much of it as he can sleeping it off. He trusted Eddie enough to keep it down that he didn’t bother to close their bedroom door properly, and he had also kinda hoped Eddie would see it as the invitation it was for him to cuddle up to Steve and make his awful day just a bit better.

Yet here Eddie is, an hour or so after he got back home, seemingly running into every single piece of furniture they own.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles, and Steve has to give him credit for at least trying to be quiet. “Come back here.”

Steve sleepily opens one eye at that. There shouldn’t be anyone out there but Eddie, right? He listens intently to hear someone else speaking, but he can’t hear anything but the quiet thump of someone hitting their kitchen table and Eddie’s frustrated grunting.

“Please, babydoll. Come back to me.”

And now Steve’s interest is really piqued.

Steve opens his other eye and sits up. He debates heading out there and seeing whatever happens out there himself, but decides to let it all play out just a little bit longer. It’s not like he believes Eddie is capable of cheating on him; he knows Eddie loves him too much to make him go through something like that, and he also isn’t dumb enough to do so when he knows Steve is sleeping in the other room.

He listens as Eddie makes some quiet tsk noises with the tip of his tongue. “C’mon, princess,” he whispers, not loud enough to wake Steve up, but definitely loud enough that Steve hears now that he’s really listening. “No, no, don’t go there, Steve’s sleeping, fuck.”

Steve lies back down quickly when he hears the door creak a bit wider to pretend being asleep, covering himself up to his eyes with their blanket. He can hear something’s small feet tapping on their bedroom tiles before hearing Eddie’s steps, and is he tiptoeing?

Even when he’s almost panicked about whatever it is Eddie had brought home, Steve can’t help but have a fond smile spread across his face. There is love in this, so immense and great, and Steve can be nothing but grateful and madly in love as well.

The tiny feet keep running around and Steve can vaguely imagine what it is- a kitten, or maybe a puppy, but relatively tiny ones at that. The tapping sound comes to a short stop then starts off again.

Eddie sighs, relieved, and it sounds like he crouches down. “Come on, come on,” he whispers. “There you go, good girl.”

The sound of tapping feet stops and Eddie gives the thing a kiss. “Don’t ever make me go through this again, babylove.” He mutters accusingly. “How can I trust you in battle if you pull this kind of shit on me?”

Eddie turns to go. Steve can imagine the kitten cuddling itself in Eddie’s arms. Knowing Eddie, the kitten’s probably black, maybe missing an eye or an ear, whichever makes it harder to adopt for regular people. Eddie’s not a regular person, though. The mental image he created is so endearing to him that he can’t help but loudly yawn. “Baby?” He says, trying to make his voice sound as sleepy as he can, even though he’s been wide awake for a while now. Eddie stops and turns around.

The room is dark, but even in the darkness Steve can see that whatever it is Eddie’s holding is both white and obviously not a cat.

“Hey, Stevie, did I wake you up?” He whispers, his tone apologetic, like a kid found out with his hand in the near-empty cookie jar.

“What’s that?” Steve asks back instead of answering.

Steve turns his bedside light on, and after the initial shock of light momentarily blinding him he can clearly see it; a white bunny being cradled in Eddie’s arms.

“She’s my assistant,” Eddie explains, as if it explains anything, “her name is Jessica. Get it? Jessica Rabbit?”

“Your assistant.”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly.

“For the…”

“Magic tricks?”

“Oh.”

“I’ll take care of her, though,” Eddie sits down on the edge of the bed, Jessica sitting in his lap, “take her out on walks and feed her and everything. You wouldn’t even notice she’s here.”

Steve sits up and motions for Eddie to hand him the bunny, which he dutifully does. Her fur is so soft, probably the softest thing Steve had ever felt. “That’s not how you take care of a bunny,” Steve says as he rubs his hands gently through her fur, “she isn’t a dog.”

“How do you take care of a bunny then? ‘Cause I bought, like, a bunch of carrots.”

Steve laughs. “Oh god, I love you.”

“That means we’re keeping her, right?” Eddie takes his shoes off- Steve pointedly does not think about how their living room might look like- and cuddles up in bed next to Steve. He looks up at him so hopefully Steve is flooded with warmth and love, so flooded he can’t even remember what annoyed him so much at work today.

Steve kisses his forehead, then his nose, then softly his lips. “Sure. One condition, though.”

“What is it?”

“Can you teach me the pulling her out of a hat trick?”

Eddie grins wide. “Of-fucking-course.”

[asti-doodles]

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, my piece for @samsimisauser fic, Sick Semper Regis!!!!!

It was truly an honor to be part of the @mlbigbang event and I'm so thankful to Mia and others for giving us this great opportunity!!!

It is only the first piece though, I've kept the best for the last ;)

Enjoy!!!

(Bonus under the cut)

Here's a little LB POV from the very same scene :)

[figthefruitfaeth]

season 2 stancy and the trauma leading up to the breakup haunts me cause like--they are two sides of the same fucking coin. 

barb dies. there’s no warning, nothing smart, good girl nancy could’ve done. she just dies, and there’s no way to prove it, no body to show, no car, no adult who will listen. she died because nancy didn’t go home on a school night, because nancy had a beer and had barb try one too, because she jumped in the pool and slept with her boyfriend. barb died because nancy took the night off. nancy--standing in the early morning light in her boyfriend’s hoodie, looking around for her best friend and knowing deep in her bones something is wrong--dies that day too.

a girl dies in his pool. barb, nancy’s friend. he didn’t know her except through nancy, wouldn’t have been able to pick her out of a lineup and now she’ll always be in his house, he’ll always see some outline of her sitting there from his bedroom window--an outline too hazy to pick out detail and too solid to deny because king steve didn’t hang out with her crowd but new okay human being steve can’t ignore her either. barb died because he wasn’t a good person, because he cared, but not enough. steve--byers’ bruises along his temple and nail bat in his hand--dies that day too.

so nancy grows up too quick too fast, learns that anything good has to be hard to get or it’s bullshit, doesn’t make new friends doesn’t get tied down to more than what’s leftover--steve, who ties himself to everything, who embeds himself in the role of loving, caring boyfriend and babysitter and the fun high school senior, cause what else does he have?

and they love each other, they do, but they can’t see each other. steve--eyes shut tight, hoping if he doesn’t look maybe he can blip right over it, maybe they can both still be stupid teenagers who love each other, and nancy--looking straight ahead, still looking for barb because she never found a body and only ever seeing the stupid, naive nancy in her stupid, jerk boyfriend’s hoodie. and they can’t see each other, and more than that, even if could, they wouldn’t, they won’t. they won’t.

they’re both stuck in the same burning house, but where one of them is trying to run out, popping back in another door every time she gets just far enough, the other is running in turning the locks and shutting the windows tight. and it’s still burning. it’s still burning.

barb dies in the pool and nobody lives.

[xannerz]

papa nwk

[charbles]

hi gang sorry for lack of posts i have no idea what to draw right now so heres a bb from a convo i had with @/cupidscherub

[dailyfrank]

[casmick-consequences]

never thought i'd say this:

thank god for the jury vote.

[starfiresky]

Feeling downcast?

I have some more important blessings and reminders for you:

1. The Wayfinder trio was reunited! ⭐️

2. Situations look better when you’re less tired. Remember to get some sleep! 😴

3. The Traverse Town theme exists ☺️

4. Keep going ❤️

[mushroom-winners-proof]

pleaaaaassse please tell me this is as yuriful as it looks

[socialbunny]

i would treat her so much better than him

[l8tof1]

🫶🫶🫶

[smiisevenwhyplus]

many of the boy