#oh thats so sweet

[arthursfuckinghat]

"Huh, Arthur Morgan.."

[crunchchute]

My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!

[choccy-milky]

seb wants to be pet, too 😤💕 ((TYSM to @angel-fr0m-venus for asking how seb would react to clora petting all the cats around the school/hogsmeade BAHAHA. like a neglected puppy, thats how🐶))

[soosoosoup]

Happy (late) Valentines!!!

[citrinesparkles]

EMIIII THIS IS SO DARLING and the inclusion of a playlist????? brlliant omg.

Of New Traditions and Christmas Ornaments

dick grayson x reader

(A/N): Ha ha you thought you were done with me? Well, you were wrong. I felt like I didn’t get enough of your prompts in the first one and I really wanted to write a fic with Dick because I feel like I want to write a lot of things with him and then none of them get finished, so call this self indulgent. Hope you like it @citrinesparkles!

wc: ~800

warnings: explicit mentions of christmas

~~

You’re just taping down the last of the garland around your TV stand when you hear the door open. Your christmas spotify playlist is on in the background as it has been since you started pulling out your decorations just under an hour ago. 

Only a handful of people have a key to your apartment, and you were only expecting one tonight. Sure enough, Dick comes up behind you and you turn to face him and greets you with a kiss and a quick hug before holding up a small red bag. He holds it out to you with a curtsey. 

“For you, my dear.” You chuckle at him before taking the bag. 

“Why thank you very much, kind sir.”  You take out the top layer of white tissue paper and pull out a small wooden ornament. Your mouth drops open when you turn it around. Burnt into the wood are the words “Our First Christmas Together” in cursive font. Under that, your names and the year are also burnt in. 

You pull Dick into a hug, your arms around his neck and your face buried in your shoulder.  

“Dickie, it's beautiful.” There’s a relieved smile on Dick’s face when he pulls back. 

“I didn’t know if it was going to be too soon because it’s our first winter together even though we’ve been together for most of the year and I don’t want this relationship to go away but-”

“Hey.” You take his hand and squeeze it. “I love it. Thank you.” You lean down to put it on top of your box of ornaments. 

“Help me with the tree garland?” 

“Just tell me what to do.” 

The garland around the tree goes much faster when you don’t have to travel around it yourself. Instead you pass the long strand of garland to Dick so he can do the opposite side of the tree and pass it back to you. Once you’ve gotten to the end, you leave dick to finish and start pulling out ornaments. 

You don't have a ton of ornaments in your apartment. You left most of the nostalgic ones your mom favored with her. You didn't even want to relive your elementary school attempt at sports at her house, there’s no way you want to in your own apartment. Your tree also isn’t very big, so you hand Dick one of the sets of classic ornaments you bought your first Christmas in your own apartment and hang the second yourself. And after that, all that’s left is the topper and the ornament Dick just brought you. It’s not heavy in your hands, but it feels like it should be. 

When you were offered ornaments made by five, by eight, by twelve year old you, you told your parents that you’d collect your own nostalgic ornaments. You didn’t need theirs. 

When you look up from the ornament, Dick is watching you, a fond look on his face. You offer it to him but he shakes his head. 

“Your tree and your gift.” You pull him towards you instead, your back against his front. Dick adapts immediately, wrapping his arms around your shoulders so they grasp each other over your collarbones. 

There’s an empty spot in the middle of the tree, right at your eye level, and you gently work the twine over the pine needles and let the ornament hang. 

The tree topper feels less monumental than hanging the ornament was and you quickly stand on your tippy toes to add it to the top of your tree. You turn around to face Dick. 

“Crappy Hallmark movie?” you suggest. 

“Is there any other kind?” 

You laugh, nudging the empty ornament box into the corner of your living room. Dick hands you the empty box that held your lights and garland and you stack the empty topper box on top of those before dropping onto your couch. 

“You pick the movie, I’ll make the hot chocolate?” Dick’s still standing and you take a second to just look at him before you answer. He’s wearing a dark blue chrismukkah sweater, rows of dreidels and menorahs in between rows of ornaments and christmas trees,—a mixing of his and Bruce’s family traditions that Dick ignited a couple years after Bruce took him in. Bruce used to do the same thing with his parents, Dick told you once— black sweatpants, and nightwing socks you got him ages ago. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” you say, your chest warm. 

Dick washes the pot while the cocoa cools to drinkable temperature despite your protests, and you’ve settled on a movie by the time he sits down and hands you your Christmas wreath mug. His reindeer mug is held close to his chest by the hand not moving to wrap around yours. 

Your cocoa is done by the end of the movie. By the middle of the second movie, you’ve put the mugs in the sink, grabbed a candy cane, and sat back down, and Dick’s curled up with his head using your thigh as a pillow. By the end, Dick’s sleeping, blowing slow breaths rhythmically in and out as you card your fingers through his hair. You click down to the next suggested movie and hit play. 

[ratatatastic]

https://youtu.be/RbgDHyeQNdE?si=WXnghZZuAyvgumVL

Keith saying him and Matthews fiancé do the cooking for him and he just sits there and heckles them. So on brand.

"And how about your barbecuing skills? It looked like you knew what you were doing behind that grill!" "Well, Matthew is pretty useless so! Unlike Brady—Brady can, you know, does things on his own but Matthew likes when I'm down there so I do cook and his fiancée, Ellie, does a great job so. He just sits back and critiques us but forgets that we're the ones doing all the work for him. Which—hey! It was playoffs! I'll do anything for my children."

NHL Tonight: First Shift | 10.16.24 (x)

unfortunately tracks for him and im still crying into my hands its always the one who cant cook for shit thats the mouthiest about it

and considering this clip from faceoff it really does track

[screechingfromthevoid]

You know what I love about the kiss? How fucking joyful it was. It was so light and so happy and so freeing.

The confession was so heavy and came at the last possible moment. Dorian was in his lower register, careful and eloquent. Orym had folded in on himself, shy and quiet. They have the weight of the world in their shoulders and they just needed a moment alone together. To say I love you. To let the other know. It all hinged on the moment before there was no going back.

But this. The kiss. It was after laughter and wedding planning and appreciating little things like lavender honey. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was feeling good. For whatever reason it didn't feel hopeless then. In that moment futures existed. Tomorrows existed. And Orym had one. Orym had a future and a tomorrow in Dorian.

Orym was so moved by all the happiness in the air that he confidently took Dorian by the hand to bring him out to the hall, told, then asked, him he was going to kiss him. All of Orym's fears melt away for ten whole seconds. Dorian stuttered and fumbled his words and kissed him back.

It was so cute. It was so joyous.

You know what it reminds me of? The stolen century. After Lup and Barry fall in love over years and years and they play this beautiful duet together. They lock eyes and smile at each other and steal away, running up the valley, away from it all. That moment of holding each other and just keep on not letting go.

The unrelenting giddiness of it all. The excitement. The glee. The promise of future. Wanting a future. Especially if it's together.

[littleplantfreak]

'When', not 'if'

("I'm not a romantic" I cry and scream before dropping the most sickening thing i've written to date. Blame @stunie because i did tell her i would write the most ume thing ever and maybe this is it. The title in my docs for it is 'Fucking disgusting' but i figured i better not title it that here because I'd be seeing it in my notifs lmaoo)

SFW/no cw unless you hate fluff

When you wake up from your nap, one of your slippers is gone, and there's a blanket on you that wasn't there prior. Looking at the clock, it's been about an hour since everyone had left your apartment once your birthday party ended. The day as a whole had been chaotic, your boyfriend shoving you out the door with a note to go see Kotoha.

The note took you farther than that, though, as it seemed Umemiya created a whole scavenger hunt for your birthday that had you running into all of your friends, having dessert at your favorite cafe, and eventually ending up at your shared apartment to find that all that time spent around town was a distraction so that he could set up the space for your party. After it had ended, you were banished to the couch because princesses aren't allowed to help clean up their own birthday parties, which had you huffing and falling face down into the chicken shaped pillow affectionately called Mr.Clucky.

It was a product of your boyfriend's endless cycle of hobbies when he took up sewing. A little lopsided and overfilled with stuffing, you complained to and into Mr.Clucky with your face pressed into him. Apparently, he was soft enough to fall asleep on because before you knew it, you had been drooling on him the entire hour. Prying yourself off the couch took more effort than was almost worth it before your eyes fell on the reason you were so tired to begin with.

Hajime smiles and hums looking at your bleary eyes. "Good morning sunshine, I was just about to take you to bed," he says, folding a dish towel over a chair. You toss off the blanket and grab on the slipper that fell under the living room table before padding up to him. Dipping your hands under both of his arms to lock them together behind him, now your face is in his chest instead of the chicken, which is entirely preferred.

"Don't wanna go to bed just yet," you muffle, sinking even deeper into him when both of his arms wrap around you in support. He smells like dish soap and birthday cake, and you turn your head to hear the heartbeat in his chest.

"What do you wanna do lovey? You know I'd give you the world if you asked," you can hear the rumble of his voice in his chest with your pressed ear. He's cheesy, but half asleep, you feel just as much, if not cheesier.

"I have the world if I have you, they're one in the same. So just you is more than fine." Your eyes are closed, but you feel him shiver a little. "I wanna dance with you, though," you say, voice still soft and kinda raspy from sleep.

"Dunno if I can top what you just said even when I propose," he chokes out a laugh, or at least you think it's one. He shifts his hold a bit and starts leading you both in a lazy sway that starts near the toaster and ends next to the potted plant at the back door before starting over.

"When? Not if?" You tease him, a hand going to scratch the nape of his neck lightly.

"I'll never meet another you, so I'm pretty set on When."

"I'll say yes." Because you will. You can't imagine a life where you wouldn't.

"And I'll still cry when you do." You can tell he's crying now because it comes out shaky and his hold tightens a bit, before you lean back, stopping your impromptu waltz. Both of your hands come up to cup his face and look at his teary grey eyes before cooing at him.

"You big baby! Save those tears for When please. You'll be congested and sniffley all night if you don't stop." You start cleaning off his face with your sleeve, but he stops one of your hands and starts peppering your palm and wrist with small kisses. "I think I'm ready for bed now. Princess's orders," you say, dragging him towards your bedroom. You'll have to figure out tomorrow just how soon When is going to be, but for now you can hear the slow thumps of Hajime's steps as he follows behind you, squeezing your connected hand. It's not pressing in the least, you think, because it feels like there will be plenty of tomorrows too.

-----

When you wake up in the morning, it takes you an hour to realize Hajime had put the ring on your finger while you were asleep.

It takes you five minutes to run through town in your pajamas, barefoot to find and full on tackle him in front of the place he was about to get your breakfast in.

And it takes about two minutes of unintelligible blubbering on both your parts before anyone understands what is going on.

No one timed it, but if they did, it would've taken less than ten minutes for the whole town to find out via texts, calls, and yells down the streets and through windows that you're engaged.

[spookberry]

I put them next to each other casually without much thought, but I've had to redraw them in this set up so many different times in the development of this project that I kinda ship them now??? like why are they always lookin at each other like that

[icewindandboringhorror]

What would you choose? :0c

(note: original image is from HERE (link) - but I edited it to add a wider variety of options.. also added $3 extra to the total, even though I know that makes it more uneven lol, I thought if you're adding 10 whole extra items, the money to spend should at least be increased slightly, if that makes sense..)

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Kenzaki rolling up in Zi-O looking like he's been lying face down in the toku quarry for ten something years just letting current series film stunts over him...

[luck-of-the-drawings]

my TWO FAVORITE THINGS IN THE WORLD, VAMPIRES N COWBOYS... deacon keller is SUCH a fun character, hes charming and funny but ALSO formidable and STRONG when he feels he needsta be. i hope him and arthur can get a chance to talk more and be better friends. l ike really good friend s. . like. like really good f. hangon i gotta go i think i hauve rabies.

[froglover7789]

its come to my attention that a lot of my thoughts about mr lukesguyliker make it seem like i think hes some kind of useless twink and i would like to clarify that that is NOT what i mean ever.

bro is very competent. bro is super strong. bro is genuinely terrifying. but also......... he is a certified drama queen who loves to complain and a certified trouble magnet. i think a lot of people mistake that and his lack of stoicism as weakness/submissiveness.

i have a deep hate for people who make him all meek and hyperfem and shit. ive seen a lot of shit that infantilizes him and it just pisses me off esp bc so many mlm ships end up falling victim to the big strong daddy and weak little baby stereotype bullshit. like nah. fuck outta here. literally who are you talking about. bro races the space equivalent of cars and goes hunting for fun. bro has a kill count in the millions. bro could kill you with half a thought. he dont need some daddydom freaky weirdo to do everything for him. he needs an equal who isnt scared of him.

[stealingyourbones]

recently watched a handful of episodes of Supernatural and im kinda impressed with Dean's steadfast belief that all monsters are monsters and can't be redeemed.

With that in mind... there could be some VERY angsty Danny Phantom crossovers with that as the main premise

[perenlop]

im abt to rb a post on this anyways but tbh i dont know how you can finish isat and go “siffrin wasnt punished enough”.

the fella has killed themselves several times, what more do you want from him?

[extravagav]

AND WE JUST DONT TALK ABOUT THIS?!?!?!!????