#i needed something soft

[jae-in-a-trenchcoat]

I’m alive and I come bearing Yasammy family stuff :)

[kingdonns]

it was a long and rough shift. langdon takes his dog out for a late night walk, can't stand to be at home and he's trying so hard to NOT relapse. the firework shows stopped, yet the sky still lights up with color. that's when his dog pulls him towards something- someone. one familiar face, one melissa king. alone, in the dark at the park, clearly having been crying, hands over her ears. his dog immediately snuggles up to her, licking her face, making the woman giggle between sniffles. she scratches his ears, looks up to lock eyes with frank langdon. there's suddenly this feeling in both of their chests, one that lets them both know that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay soon. for two different parallel lines, they sure do keep running across each other and colliding, like fate kept nudging them together.

[imfinereallyy]

Eddie draws on the edge of Steve’s hip, where his shirt rides up from stretching across Eddie’s bed. He’s humming to himself a song Steve doesn’t recognize, but it soothes him.

“What are you drawing?” Steve speaks softly; something about the moment feels gentle. He doesn’t want to break it.

“Hmmm, it’s a secret.” Eddie peaks beneath his bangs and smiles.

Steve leans up on his elbows, “Well, that’s not fair; I think I should know what’s going on my body?”

Eddie only looks at him with mischief as he continues to doodle. “Be grateful, Harrington. You’re getting an original Munson for free.”

Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes him. It is just like Eddie to say something like that. Playful and mean, it makes something settle in Steve. For a long time, he only knows the pain from harsh comments or a sentence with a bite. It is a welcomed change, to feel a bubble of happiness after a light jab.

“Whatever you say, Munson. Just let me see.” Steve tries to push up further to sneak a peek, but Eddie uses his free hand to push him down to the bed. He just happens to catch Steve off guard, sending him into a sprawl that can only be described as a starfish.

“I’m not finished yet.” Eddie grabs his hips and pins him still while he draws. After a few more moments, he says, “Done!”

Steve looks at his work and releases a snort that breaks the careful tension between them. “Are those boobs?”

“Why yes, they are, and a good representation if I say so myself.”

“Do you even know what boobs look like? Like the live version?” Steve knows he should be mad at the sharpie-drawn breasts on his body, but he can’t find it in him to have an angry tone.

“We’ll no. I don’t. And I would much prefer to keep it that way.”

Steve chokes on his spit a little bit, “Did you just come out to me, Eds?”

Steve isn’t sure what he expects. Denial, maybe, Eddie taking back what he said. Steve knows he isn’t handling this right. He doesn’t think Robin would be too happy with his response.

Steve thinks maybe he should see a little bit of fear in Eddie’s demeanor. That shakiness that comes with telling someone a dangerous secret.

What he gets, in the end, isn’t something he could have predicted. Eddie smiles softly, a little bit of his tooth peeking out, and lays his head gently on Steve’s leg. He’s calm and collected. He’s happy, Steve realizes.

“Yea, I guess I did. Not like it was much of a secret, though. Are you upset?” Eddie draws soft circles around the drawing on Steve’s hip—the rough callous on his thumb contradicting his tender touch.

Once again, although the conversation should be anxious, it’s not. Eddie’s question is spoken like he already knows the answer. Maybe he does.

“No, Eddie. I’m not mad. Never would be for that. Just thought it was a funny way of sharing a secret. Though, gotta admit, a very you way of doing it.”

This time Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, before settling back down on Steve’s leg. His giggles never really settled. “Like I said, Stevie wasn’t much of a secret anyway. Well, between us, that is at least. I like to think some, if not all, the kids are oblivious.”

“Erica definitely knows.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in mischief, “Oh, for sure. Pretty sure she would kick the others' asses, too, if they gave me shit for it. And she kicks hard too.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. He’s never had this before, this casualness to serious conversations. Before, Steve is used to screaming and punching, drunken confessions in the bathroom, and throwing up on the mall floor. It isn’t like this, now, with Eddie in his trailer bedroom. It’s good. It’s safe.

“Thank you for telling me, Eds. Something like that is hard to share no matter who you tell it to.”

The softness is back again, “Like I said wasn’t much of a secret. Besides, I don’t think there isn’t any secret of mine you don’t know, Stevie. I think even when I don’t tell you, you kinda already know, don’t you?”

Steve leans one arm forward, while he places his weight on one elbow. He gently takes Eddie’s face in one hand, rubbing circles in the same motion as Eddie’s thumb on his hip.

God, I want to kiss him so bad sometimes, Steve thinks.

“Yea, I already know.”

[reztoru]

“You’re a dumbass for not bringing a jacket, you know? You gotta be better prepared.”

Satoru tossed a big sweater at you and you just barely caught it. You looked at it hesitantly before sliding it over your head. And when you did, you were consumed with the scent of lavender and cedarwood — it smelt just like him. It was a calming scent and it steeped over your nerves . The lavender offered a soft, airy feeling, and the cedarwood being the grounding pull; pillowing you back to earth. The lingering warmth gave a comforting feeling — a warm body without the physical touch.

“I didn’t tell you to come here and lecture me. I asked you to bring my jacket.” You sniffled out.

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t bother you, now would I?”

You snort, “The Satoru Gojo I know doesn’t give lectures, he receives them.”

He only chuckled and brought himself to plop down beside you, letting his shoulder bump into yours. He dangled a bag of treats in front of your face, wiggling his eyebrows; saying something about how they’re your favourites. And they were. All your favourite things that you swore you only mentioned once or twice in a conversation you barely remembered.

Satoru was terrible with words of comfort, but he made up for it in other ways. His acts of love have always been giving. Things like souvenirs from his trips abroad to remind you that he was thinking of you, even if he was oceans away. Or buying you coffee right before noon because you mentioned you get sleepy around that time. He remembered all the little things about you that most people would probably forget.

Even if he wouldn't say it out loud, he remembered because he loves you. And he thinks that every little thing about you is worth remembering. It's worth the space in his head; his brain probably has a spot dedicated just to you.

“I’m here.”

And so when you started crying, he really didn't know what to say but he hoped you knew. He was here, and he’d show you he cared, and that his love ran deeper than expensive gifts, and one too many coffees.

[cottonhide]

[sam-fell-into-fandomhell]

I also made this, which admittedly isn't that great but I thought it looked at least kind of nice

[breiffontcollector]

i felt sick yesterday and this is the result 

[deathandwealth]

@springincarnate

the god of death is grinning, kneeling in front of cerberus when he turns to his wife. “ why is my dog wearing a flower crown? ”