#Very Soft Blankets

[munsonfamilyband]

Bitchy Steve who is also touch starved is so personal to me

Like, Steve who is just overall in a bad mood and has been snapping at anyone and everyone all day. Everyone is over at his house and he’s just bitching at everyone for the smallest things. Dustin brushes crumbs off his hand onto a throw pillow that normally Steve would have no issue with, gets him ripping the pillow away from Dustin and shoving it on the couch out of reach. Mike makes a snarky comment and Steve bitches right back. It keeps going until one of the kids (probably Will or El because Max thrives off of Steve’s bitchy moods) goes up to Eddie to beg him to do something, anything, to fix Steve’s mood. Eddie just looks at the kid and then at Steve and is like “I got this.” He walks over to Steve, grabs his arm and pulls Steve with him towards an arm chair. Eddie plops down into it and pulls Steve down on top of him, arms wrapped tight around his waist so he can’t leave.

Steve doesn’t even try to get away, he just huffs and crosses his arms but everyone can see him lean back into Eddie with a frown still firmly on his face. As they keep sitting there, Eddie ending up with a hand in Steve’s hair, they can see the anger slowly drip off of Steve. And even if he still sends snarky comments, they don’t have nearly as much bite to them.

[wanyinchen]

uh oh you hurt his demon, whoospies

He may be a big softie but DO NOT push his buttons.

Hello everyone! I'm "new" to the fandom :D (LIES i have been lurking for the last two years before summoning the courage to draw for it, yes, i am like that, unfortunately)

[secretsstash]

Free days are for naps in the sun 🤗

[jestroer]

Was watching Beef’s season 7 pov lately and when Beef and Wels were discussing how fluffy Wels’ bed was i had a very clear image of Wels all snuggled up in there. Knight’s well deserved rest

Also thought it would be fitting to plug Wels’ patreon as his family is having financial problems rn and it would be nice of you to help if you are able!

[tj-crochets]

Baby quilt for a neighbor’s first grandbaby! She asked for a woodland theme

[happyk44]

You know what? Jason buying himself an oversized dog cage, making it all pretty with fairy lights at the front, throwing a blanket over the top to make it dark, sliding in a thick sleeping bag and some soft sheets and a cozy blanket with 1 squishy pillow, and this is his bed now.

It feels better this way for some reason. The confined space is more comforting, he isn't as exposed as he would've been on the bed, sunlight doesn't wake him up from the windows, outside sounds are a little more muffled.

It's like his own personal den. Everyone knows better than to go inside, and if someone wants to crash in his cabin with him, then yeah, he'll bunk with them on the bed, but otherwise he prefers the private safety of his homemade den. It's his.

[im-a-freaking-joy]

HEre is an incredibly niche pet peeve I’ve discovered that I have and im going to rant about it 

so i’ve recently gotten into vintage knitting thanks in large part to retro claude on youtube, she makes great content on vintage clothes and how she manages all that with her disability, its very helpful and nice and i have learned a lot! one of the things being that in a lot of vintage patterns for knitting, (1930′s and 40′s specifically) the yarn used is a 3 ply yarn. Now in modern day, the vast majority of our yarn is 4 ply. 4 ply is heavier and thicker, so if you’re working from a pattern your gauge will be off and it wont fit right unless you do a whole lot of math. 

However! although it is not usually 3 plies (strands of fiber that get twisted together, so 3 ply is 3 strands and 4 ply is 4, so on and so on) yarn for babies is usually very similar! It’s a lot less heavy than worsted weight 4 ply yarn, and some baby yarns are even 3 ply! they are also quite cheap and easy to find, as most 3 ply yarns are not very easily accessible. 

NOw heres wehre i get mad

BABY YARN IS ALL FUCKING PASTEL

not only is this infuriating for me as a knitter who wants my beautiful jewel tones and rich earth tones and dark greens and bright fun colors, its also not great for babies cause guess what???

BABIES CANT SEE FUCKING PASTEL

so many baby stuff is brightly colored *on purpose* so they can learn what color is. Toddlers who live in a minimalist beige/pastel house color in browns and greys cause THATS WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!!!  so in conclusion, please make more baby yarn that is not pastel because pastels are nice on occasion but not all of the time and I want more soft light cheap easily machine washable yarn in colors I will actually wear

[wisterian-dark]

Hob loves to ramble about history and Dream loves to listen, as he always did at each and every one of their meetings, but as Hob starts going into another tangent about the mid 1800s - because the textbooks got it all wrong, as they often do - he stops mid-sentence at the feeling of Dream's head resting on his shoulder. Dream doesn't need sleep, not really, but Hob is one of the very few people who make him feel safe enough to let his guard down and just rest.

If he feels Hob's hand gently combing through his hair, well, he can't say he minds that much, not that he'd admit it to anyone. He just shifts a bit closer into Hob's side and lets himself be taken care of, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly disappear as he breathes into Hob's scent and relaxes under his touch.

[archersartcorner]

Drew and took these pics a while ago but never posted them!! The OG Zac PC, and the special lil guy that initially appealed me to Zac’s characters :)

What a guy :-)

[rockingrobin69]

Orange

He liked oranges best. Oranges, and blueberries, and star fruit. Perhaps it was the imagery—Harry’s senses were like that sometimes, and he liked things that spoke to him, that sang. Bluebells and raspberries, words that had movement, lolling, wayward, polly pocket. Perpendicular, serendipity. He’d stop in the middle of a sentence sometimes, take a breath. Open his mouth wide on a smile: Draco, listen! Slowly, slowly. Each syllable a present, with that raspy tinge to his voice, straight from his heart. Nothing to do at those moments but pause there with him. Pause and listen.

Orange was his favourites, fruit and also colour, so Draco made sure to suffuse the little flat with it. Orange cushions for the sofa and fish in the bowl, a Cannons poster on the wall and orange curtains for the window. It took time to get used to, the brightness, but it made Harry so happy. Also too bright at first. But Draco’s eyes adjusted, his heart adjusted. Got used to eating oranges, sticky fingers feeding him slice after slice; to run in the forest, aching with laughter, picking brambles (dark only) and collecting sticks and rocks and spotting squirrels. And Harry was happy—he was happy. Only that mattered.

Not a lot of things were important, it turned out. Much of what he expected to consume him as an adult was laughably distant, ended up trifle. It was easy, in orange, to realise. Easier at least. And Draco kept learning: how to wrap Harry in a blanket, tight enough that the nightmares faded away. How to kiss the top of his head so softly, or not to touch him, how to ask for the right move when he’s lost. And Harry was patient, endlessly bright. They learned together. This was important.

There was also breakfast, sugar-coated cereal, a bunch of blueberries in Harry’s bowl. Not forgetting to feed the fish. Taking plenty of walks outside; noting every flower and every tree, every fungus and bird, if not by name, then by feeling. Remembering to tell Harry the most interesting ones. Remembering this, learning how to hold it all in his heart. How to hold on to happiness: slippery-orange, so light and so fragile, but theirs. Not to give it up. That was important too. Not to give it up.

He was tempted to, sometimes: just pack his Harry and go, away from this world that demanded and demanded and never knew satisfaction. On the bad days, when they were both too miserable to try, when exhaustion made them close up and burrow into themselves, when they just didn’t want to. Not to give it up meant taking a step back, finding a breath somewhere in it all. Remembering it will pass. Loving anyway.

Loving anyway. That was important. Draco sighed, rested his forehead on the cupboard. In his hands a bowl of fruit: oranges, peeled and cut, sticky-sweet and fragrant. Divine. Harry always smelled like oranges. Lucky, that—Draco liked orange best.

(Day 26 of @flufftober​! A gigantic thank you to @ladderofyears and @myaulophobia for their help. Find all previous Robin flufftober ficlets here, or on AO3)      

[docholligay]

Time!

MY BATHTUB IS FIXED I AM GOING TO TAKE A BATH TONIGHT

[soni-dragon]

a teeny tiny watercolor of our favorite immortal husbands <3

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[tennis-kittens]

So the conclusion from that epic ATP Finals interview is that everybody's in love with Andrey (X)

[rotzaprachim]

kissing andor the show on the mouth for not only giving us space lesbians but making them messy and dysfunctional 

[ghostdoctor]

Midoriya: heres a blanket, you looked cold. 

Monoma: fuck you.