#shmoopy

It means something to us, and thus it has meaning.

I'm sitting across from you, holding your hand. Giving you an anchor. Reminding you that no matter how deep into yourself you go, I'll be there with you.

The induction itself is a ramble- this is a path we've both long-memorized, based on knowledge that feels practically woven into our DNA. The words don't matter and the meaning's always the same.

You understand it, I know you do.

You understand me like I understand you.

And so you get that it's so precious for me to be able give you this. It's important for me to share this with you.

I want you to feel calm and thus your tension eases. I watch it seep from your forehead, your neck, your shoulders.

I want you to feel peaceful and so you let everything go with a sigh.

I want you to feel cared for.

So you do.

Just like that.

The words/symbols/gestures/tricks aren't important- they could be anything. Maybe I'm showing off for your amusement. (Our amusement, really). Maybe there's a bit of mind reading there- some magic that lets me know exactly what you want to hear exactly when you need to hear it.

Or maybe all of that is meaningless babble right now. It's the sound of my voice itself that keeps you grounded- safe while you float off into your own little world.

I don't mind.

What's important is I'm here with you.

That you let me be here.

That we can accept and share this, even if it's unconventional.

That doesn't matter.

It means something to us, and thus it has meaning.

This art, holy dang. The entire Lackadaisy flm crew, as depicted by art-marvel Shmoopy and gifted to the team by our dear Newt.  Thank you both!!  ❤ ❤ ❤ Each time I zoom in, I get stuck in a googly-eyed trance trying to absorb it all.  I’m gonna have to come up with an index of everyone included. Meanwhile, though...

The first thing that Castiel ever learned about Humanity firsthand was heartache.

He saw it often enough on the righteous faces of Winchesters. He remembered it in John's soot-streaked face, buried in his four-year-old son's hair. He saw it every day for months as Dean wrestled with Hell and his brother's keen desire to follow the same road down. Sam's eyes when he realized what he'd done in the absence of a soul.

Far from home, truly alone and hungry, Castiel felt heartbreak in his fingertips and wondered why the ache wouldn't stay contained to the only muscle it was promised to. For years, that was what being human meant.

Now, looking over a field of wild wheat, next to the abandoned power plant where his love resides, Castiel experiences first-hand the other side of that coin. It's a joyful ache--similar to the aftermath of good sex. Like sitting down after running full tilt towards something he wants very badly. Like arriving.

Castiel squeezes the hand in his. It squeezes back very hard. That too hurts so beautifully.

The Importance Of Tradition To The Earth Pony Bridegroom

My wife is considerably taller and heavier than me, and stacked like a brick warehouse; which, combined with her wedding dress being so sheer it was almost frictionless, meant that carrying her up the stairs and over the threshold was very nearly the end of us both.