#ALSO: bringing this thing in the back to shoot them dead to rights is a fucking MOOD man!

[catgirljaneway]

everytime i see something about tuvix i am filled with inhumane rage ngl

[rainbowgod666]

My fellow tumblr user: thats a fucking nurglite grenade

Hey kids, wanna learn what signs of botulism look like?

[steddieasitgoes]

Eddie helps Jeff and Grant move into their freshman college dorms. Eddie's not going to college; it took him six years to graduate high school. He's not about to put more time and now money into a dead-end education, but he respects the guys' decision.

They're upset the university's stupid roommate questionare didn't pair them together. They answered everything exactly the same, and yet they still got split up. It's bullshit. Eddie knows it, they know it, everyone knows it. But it is what it is. Jeff doesn't want to make waves with the school, and Grant's just happy they accepted his sorry ass, so they'll have to live with it.

Jeff, Gareth, and Grant are currently figuring out how they're going to smuggle a microwave into Grant's room. Eddie leaves them to it, already holding a box marked for Jeff in his hands. He saunters out of the elevator and down the hall toward Jeff's room, nodding his head at anyone who does the same to him.

College is weird, he thinks. No one has sneered at him -- not even the frat dude bro type who checked Jeff and Grant in earlier. Maybe it's true what they say, college is full of open-minded people. He'll let the boys be the guinea pig on that one.

Jeff's door is half shut when he gets there, which is weird because he knows they left it wide open. They still have to bring in his record collection, and even though he ditched hundreds at home, the box is still way heavier than it should be. Having to put it down to open the door is a no go.

Thankfully, the box Eddie is carrying now is rather light so he turns and uses what little ass he has to bump the door open before sliding inside.

He stops dead in his tracks as Jeff's roommate turns to meet his gaze.

Eddie doesn't believe in God, doesn't believe in angels -- he likes to think Demons exist, but that's more of an aesthetic thing than anything else -- but he's pretty sure he's in the presence of an angel.

No, he's certain he is.

The large window between the beds shoots rays of sunshine through the horizontal blinds, painting the guy in beautiful shades of yellow and orange. And jesus h. christ the shadow gives off the illusion of a halo around his gorgeous, lush, perfectly styled hair.

He's wearing a sweater -- how he's wearing a sweater in the sweltering heat, Eddie doesn't know, but he is -- with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Eddie can't help but let his eyes take in the miles and miles of sun-kissed skin, unmarked with ink like his own but decorated with freckles and moles that Eddie wants to trace, connecting them like constellations he spent decades staring at on the roof of the trailer back at home. And, okay, maybe a few other unholy thoughts also pop into his head -- sue him.

He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at that. Of course Eddie's first thought upon stumbling on an angel is to wreck them.

"Hey, I'm Steve," the man says, extending a hand out to Eddie.

Jesus H. Christ, it's bigger than any hand has any right to be. Eddie's mind immediately wonders what else might be bigger than most. He can't help it.

"You must be Jeff," he smiles. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Yep, that's me!" Eddie says without thinking it through. He scrambles to put the box down and reaches out to shake Steve's hand.

It's a firm handshake, what Wayne would call "business-like," but it sends a burst of electricity coursing through Eddie's body. It's silly, really silly, but Eddie doesn't think his hand has ever fit so perfectly in someone else's before.

Maybe they're soulmates. He doesn't believe in those either, but he could if this Steve guys is his.

Steve smiles and drops his hand a second later and Eddie tries his best not to buckle under the loss of touch.

"What do you think of the place?" Steve says. His hands shoot to his waist, settling there as he gives the room a bitchy glance over. "It's a lot smaller than I was expecting."

"At least it's only a double," Eddie says. "My friend's stuck in a triple."

Poor Grant. As if losing out on rooming with Jeff isn't enough, he really got fucked.

Steve whistles lowly. "Damn, man, that sucks."

He squats then, digging through an already unopened box, and Eddie feels faint. His jeans were already tight, but with his new angle, they're stretched to the max, leaving very, very, very little to be imagined. And Eddie has no problem imagining anything, much less what the skin under those pale blue jeans looks like.

Steve's shirt rides up a bit as he leans over more, really sifting through the box now, and the tiny sliver of skin above the waistband of his boxers is enough to send Eddie into full-blown gremlin mode.

Maybe he should have applied to college.

"So, Jeff," Steve says, standing again and glancing between the two beds.

Neither has seemed to claim them yet. Jeff -- the real Jeff -- didn't want to be rude, and judging by the single box Steve's been looking through, he's only just started the move-in process.

"Got any bed preferences?"

Sharing it with you.

No, no! he scolds himself.

"Nope, have at it," Eddie says, casting his arms out wide and bending at the waist. He's not sure why he's done it, but by the time he registers how weird it might be, it's too late. So he commits to the bit, and it's worth it when Steve chuckles.

"Cool, cool," he nods. "I'll take this one, then." Steve shuffles over to the bed farthest from the door and tests the firmness with his hand. It gives just enough to make Steve smile. "I can work with this, if you know what I mean."

Eddie thinks he's really gone and died then because Steve honest to god winks at him.

Winks!

At. Him.

Eddie!

What the fuck.

"Yeah," he croaks, a little awkward and a whole lot aroused. He needs to get out of here before he jumps Jeff's roommate and accidentally gets him kicked out. Better yet, he needs to figure out how to get enrolled and kick Jeff out of his room himself. "Alright, well, I've got more shit to bring up, so I'll be back."

"I'll be here."

Eddie nods then bolts, ditching the elevator altogether and taking the three flights of stairs two at a time. Jeff's still arguing with boys when he gets down there, sweaty and out-of-breath.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Gareth snaps.

"Oh no," Jeff winces. "Is my roommate a dick? Did he chase you out?"

"No," Eddie pants, shaking his head widly. He reaches out with both hands and slams them down on Jeff's shoulders way harder than he needs to. "Your roommate, Steve-- he's-- I think I'm in love."

The guys burst into laughter.

"Here we go again," Gareth says, rolling his eyes.

"You just met the guy," Grant adds. "How could you possibly be in love?"

"You can't be in love with my roommate," Jeff scolds, shaking Eddie's hand off of him.

"Jeff, Jefferson, Jeffery," Eddie rambles. "I am in love. He is the man I am going to marry. The one who will father my children. The one to tame this wild horse--"

"You've slept with two dudes, Eddie. I don't think that makes you a wild horse," Gareth scoffs.

Eddie ignores him. He doesn't have time to deal with Gareth. Not when Steve is upstairs waiting for him.

"I need to go back to him."

Eddie moves to step around the three, eager to grab another box with Jeff's name on it and get back to Steve. Back to the love of his life. But Jeff blocks him.

"No. No. Absolutely not," Jeff says, reeling Eddie back in. "I have to live with this guy for a year. You are not going back up there and making it weird."

"Well then I have good news for you," Eddie says, wicked grin already breaking out onto his face.

"This can't be good," Grant mumbles.

"You don't even have to go up there. He thinks I'm Jeff."

"Okay, but you're not Jeff," the real Jeff says, crossing his arms. "I'm Jeff and I'm going to go to my room and introduce myself to my roommate and you're going to stay far, far, far away from him."

Eddie shakes his head. "You can't do that! He'll think I'm a liar."

"You are a liar," Gareth butts in.

"Eddie," Jeff groans. "I have to go up there! I live here. I'm Jeff. He needs to know the truth."

"Or, or!" Eddie shouts, full of frantic energy now. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, mind reeling a million miles an hour as the plan starts to form in his head. This could work. It could totally work. "How about I pretend to be you for the next year and you can be me."

"Dude, no!" Jeff scoffs. "I worked my ass of to get here. I'm not trading lives with you so you can try to fuck my roommate."

"Oh, I won't have to try," Eddie says. "He might have already offered."

"Oh my god. My roommate thinks I want to fuck him."

"Your roommate doesn't even know you exist," Grant corrects.

"What were you thinking?" Jeff shouts.

"He clearly wasn't thinking with his head," Gareth says.

"This is a disaster."

"No," Eddie says, shaking his head. He doesn't know why they're being so catastrophic about this. It's fine. It's all going to be fine. "Okay, new plan, I'll pretend to be you but only in your dorm. You can still go to class and do all the college shit. I'll only be Jeff to Steve."

"And where am I supposed to live?"

"With Grant."

"Asshole! I'm already in a triple! We can't house another person."

"And you're not even enrolled!" Jeff adds. "What happens when the RA finds out? I'll get kicked out and you'll--"

"Go to jail."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I don't think people go to jail for impersonating college students, Gare."

"They might!" Gareth says, throwing his hands up. "Are you really going to risk going to jail just for a chance at fucking Jeff's roommate?"

"Well, I hope it would be more than fucking. I did say I was in love."

Gareth doesn't get it. The only thing he's ever loved is his drum set -- and he can't marry that. Not even in bumfuck Indiana.

He goes back to ignoring Gareth and focuses on Jeff. He braces his hand on his shoulders again and slinks down to his knees. He's not above begging. Not for this. Not for the angel that is Steve who is probably wondering where he is right now.

"Jeff," Eddie says, hitting the pavement. He retracts his hands from Jeff's shoulders and clasps them together in prayer. He's making a scene.

"Get up, you're making a scene," Jeff hisses, yanking him back to his feet. Eddie goes willingly and Jeff huffs. "Alright, alright. Let me think."

"You can't seriously be considering this," Grant chimes in. "Eddie's plan is shit. It'll never work."

"I know that!"

Eddie watches as Jeff paces in a circle with his eyes closed. If he wanted to, he could bolt right now. Grab a box and make a run for it. Lock himself and Steve in the room and not come out until he's sure Jeff won't rat him out. Holding Steve hostage might not be the best impression to give Steve though, so he stays put.

"Okay, how about this," Jeff says and Eddie gives him his undivided attention. "The two of us are going to go back to my dorm and we're going to set the record straight--"

"No! That's--"

"Eddie," Jeff says, firmly. "If you really do love my roommate or well, you want to eventually love him. You have to tell him the truth."

Jeff's right. He's always right that's why he's going to college on a scholarship and Eddie's not. But he doesn't like it. Steve's going to think he's a total weirdo and he'll never get a chance to see what's actually under those tight ass pants.

Still, Jeff's right.

"Fine."

Steve really is an angel because he doesn't even bat an eye at the truth. He does laugh, but Eddie doesn't mind that. He wishes he had his cassette recorder and a mic so he could record it. It's music to his damn ears, and he knows a thing or two about music.

Jeff and Steve hit it off and Eddie tries not to pout about it as he continues lugging in box after box. When Eddie's van is finally empty, Grant and Gareth meet up with them in Jeff's room. Steve introduces himself and Eddie can tell they're both silently judging him.

Yes, this is the dude he would risk going to jail for, Gareth. Eddie thinks, he hopes Gareth gets the message in the glare he shoots his way. He thinks he does.

It turns out Steve also has a best friend who just moved in, too. She's in a different building than them, but he's meeting up with her for pizza at the parlor down the street. He invites them all to go and Eddie says yes on behalf of all of them a little to quickly.

When they get there, Steve introduces them all -- Jeff, Gareth, Grant. He gets all their names right, even Gareth, but when he gets to Eddie, he smirks. "And this," he says, smiling as he slings an arm around Eddie's shoulder. "This is not-Jeff my not-roommate."

"Hi, Not Jeff," Robin says.

Eddie laughs and introduces himself to her with his real name and Robin nods before her eyes lock on with Steve. He can tell they're non-verbally communicating with each other. It's not unlike the way he is with the boys. One look is all it takes sometimes for them to know what he's thinking.

It's weird watching it happen from the outside and especially difficult when he's still stuck under Steve's arm. Not that he minds that part not at all.

Finally, her lips quirk up into a smile and she pulls her gaze from Steve, letting it land on Eddie. At the exact same time, Steve's name gets called and he excuses himself to get pizza, leaving the two of them alone.

Robin's smile falters just a bit as she takes a step closer to him, replacing the spot where Steve just was. "Just so you know, I'm obsessed with Murder, She Wrote. If you hurt him, I know where to hide your body."

Eddie doesn't have time to even think of a retort before she's scampering off to help Steve with the pizzas.

He might not be enrolled in college, but he has a strange feeling he's going to spend a lot of time up here from now on.

[illubean]

hey ! can you write for the main four of hxh, where the reader is like immortal but the 4 don’t know and think they “died” but just comes back after like a couple lonngggg seconds? idk if this is weird but thanks!

Main 4 (HXH) w/ an Immortal!Reader

Characters: Gon Freecs, Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paladaknight Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader

not telling them beforehand is EVIL

Warnings: mentions of death

Gon Freecs

alright so for some reason you're fighting someone/thing

and right as you land the final blow they also manage to get a lethal hit in and you "die"

he is literally sobbing while laying on your chest as you take your sweet time to revive...

he is literally bawling his eyes out and feels so guilty because he couldn't help you :((

and then when he feels a hand on his head and hears "now what are you crying about?"

he literally shoots up in surprise

"You're alive!?" "Yeah, I'm literally immortal."

he's too distressed to even question you further and just opts to hug you tightly

he might ask you about it later, but for now he just needs the comfort of your embrace

Killua Zoldyck

this poor kid :(

he's literally already traumatized by everything his family has done to him now THIS?

he's another one who cries because he couldn't protect you

little does he know he doesn't have to

and when you come back like "heyyyy :p" he jumps like 50 feet from you

"What the hell!?" "My bad, took a little longer to come back this time than I thought." "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS TIME????"

and you explain you're immortal and hes like HAAHH!?

he angrily wipes all of his tears away before beating you over the top of your head

he plays things off as him just being mad you didn't tell him about your ability

but really he's glad that you didn't actually kick the bucket

Kurapika Kurta

he literally lost his entire clan when he was like 12

so you "dying" to who or whatever just piles on top of the darkness in his heart

cue the red eyes ooohhh

he will quickly finish off whoever "killed" you and during that time boom you're back

"Look's like you took care of things here. Thanks Kurapika :D"

he gives himself whiplash with how fast he turns around

at first he is very wary because what if the enemy has some sort of ability to reanimate your body

but then you tell him you're immortal

and he's like oh...

bye bye red eyes

"You should've told me that earlier"

he just sighs and brings you somewhere else to make sure that you're really okay

Leorio Paladaknight

Leorio has a big heart and values his relationships

so when you "die" in front of him he is in arguably more distress than anyone else on the list

he doesn't just accept the fact that you're "dead"

he is literally crying screaming about to throw up

he's like NOOOO WHYYY WHYYYYYYYY YOU CANT BE DEAD NOOOOOOOOOOO

and you come back like just kidding :p not deaddd

he's literally screaming at you and shaking you back and forth by your shoulders

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!? NOT FUNNY, THATS NOT FUNNY AT ALL!"

after that he pauses then starts screaming at you even louder to explain how you came back to life

"ARE YOU A ZOMBIE!?!!?!?"

and when you tell him his frantic yelling does not stop...

good luck shutting him up

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 11th

Day 11: Gags // Shaving // Knife Play

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Shaving, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, intimacy, teasing

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Hair slicked back, wet and shiny from the shower, he looks so fucking good. Perched over the sink and looking up in the mirror. It’s cracked in one spot and the silver backing is peeling away from the glass. Making him look worn out and feel old. Hell, he is old. There’s more gray in his hair that he remembers and patches of it in the hair that lines his jaw. 

Reaching up, he swipes his hand across that jaw and sighs. He has a chance to shave, but he doesn’t know if he should. 

“Pick up the razor, Miller.” You have been watching him from the doorway, your own shower long done and you’ve felt like a brand new woman. A turned on one since you’ve been watching Joel examine himself in this mirror shirtless. 

He’s fucking handsome, even if he would roll his eyes if you told him that. Raw, experienced. Rugged in a way that is vastly appealing and pulls at your core. 

Turning, he cuts his eyes at you and watches you for a moment. “You pick it up.” His voice is raspy, challenging you before he gestures towards the razor. 

Brow shooting up, you push off the wall and step towards the sink and him. “And do what?” You smirk, hearing him huff as he straights up and shifts back a step so you can fit between him and the sink. 

This thing between you and Joel is simple, and complicated all at the same time. It’s sex. The physical release, the connection with another for just a few moments before you both retreat behind the walls that you've erected. 

“What do you think, smartass?” Joel snorts, stepping closer and crowding you when you are between him and the sink. Pushing you back until you are lifting your ass onto the edge of the porcelain. 

“I think we are alone.” You bite your lip and pick up the razor from the edge of the sink and hold it up. “And we could shave your face, or you could fuck me.” 

The kid has already passed out. Showered and her stomach full of the twenty year old minestrone soup you had managed to find a few days ago. Snoring away from the bedroom she had chosen for herself. This little house has been a godsend, the hydro powered generator still running even though the homeowners were long dead. 

Joel grunts and he reaches for your underwear. “We could do both.” He has a half cocky grin on his face, a rarity to see and fucking devestating for the things it does to your pussy. Joel Miller before the outbreak would have been a sight to see. 

“Shave you while fucking?” You laugh, but he doesn’t, piquing your interest even more. “Seriously?” 

Joel strips off your panties and pushes your thighs apart. “I trust you.” He slides his hands up your legs and over your stomach to cup your tit. “And I always liked that kind of scene in the movies.” He admits, huffing that confession out with a slightly larger smirk. 

“Oh really?” You lean in and turn on the water behind you. “Bathroom filled with steam, a little bit of shaving soap on the jaw, the woman comes in and takes over.” You hum as you swipe the blades under the hot water to wet them. “The intimacy of the moment screaming through the screen and it’s just a matter of when, not if, they are going to devour each other?” 

He swallows harshly, clearing his throat and his eyes slide down to your lips. “Something like that.” Somehow, his voice has dipped lower, gotten a little more gravelly. You haven’t missed the way that his own body is reacting to your closeness. 

Bringing up the razor, you keep your eyes on his when he looks back up at you. Putting it to his face right below his ear to start slowly scraping away the hair from his face. 

Both of you were right. It’s intimate. Close. Intoxicating. The subtle rasp of the blades cutting through the hair and leaving the skin smooth. 

You are lost in it until he touches you. Making you jolt slightly as he presses against your entrance. Looking down to see his cock, thick and hard and ready to push inside you. “Don’t cut me.” He murmurs, gripping your hips to shift you down and he slides inside you. 

Making you groan, you barely can keep your hand steady as you let him stretch you out. “Joeeeeeel.” You bite your lip, aware that while the kid might be asleep, you can’t be too loud so you don’t wake her. 

“Fuck, say it like that again.” He groans, rocking forward until his hips are pressed against the sink and he’s fully sunk inside you. “But keep shaving me.” 

You want to roll your eyes, but you don’t, blindly washing off the blades again behind you and taking another pass at his cheek. 

It’s sloppy and unhurried. You don’t want to knick his throat, even if the guarded safety blades aren’t rusted and had been peeled out of the brittle plastic package right before now. Still, every pass of the razor is paired with a thrust of his cock. Both of you groaning in the still steamy bathroom, the heat from the water running behind you adding to the moment. 

Halfway through, Joel leans in and presses his lips to yours. It’s not as rough as you might have expected, but it is passionate. His tongue sliding inside your mouth and his groans breathed into you as he pulls you even closer. Interrupting your hard work, but he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about the hair still left on his face. Too busy panting into your mouth and rocking you back into the sink until your ass hits the water and you clench down around him with a hiss. 

He huffs a laugh, his teeth digging into your bottom lip, pulling you back and resetting his hips and yours. The razor clattering into the sink behind you and your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Moaning softly as the shaving is forgotten in the attempt to just feel good. 

“Got distracted?” Joel teases, rolling his hips a little faster to keep pushing deep. He loves the feel of you, the warmth and wetness. The way you take everything he gives you. 

“God.” You can’t even be upset at him, not when he’s completely right. You did get distracted. The best kind of way to be distracted. “Shut up and fuck me, Miller.” You will finish shaving him eventually, probably leading up to round two if he’s up for it. 

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

Lilia is bickering with Jen in episode 7. she turns around and SEES ALICE, WHO WAS KILLED IN EPISODE 5

alice, don't try to save agatha! but she's whisked ever further back to episode 2 before she can finish the sentence. imagine having the power of communicating with the past but it's never enough to warn them. seeing the dead and talking to them, knowing what's going to come next. and you wonder why she chose exile and solitude.

meanwhile agatha has collected her wits long enough to decide what her short term strategy with rio is gonna be: keep her distracted, isolate her from the others, keep her away from billy. see how she takes a moment to focus and get into character? she knows rio is about to follow her like a moth to a flame

just going on a trip with my best gal pals and a random teen boy, nothing to see here!!!! and agatha knows that rio knows that she's lying. hello, rio is PERFECTLY aware that there's no Road out there capable of magicking her into a glam rock sex den. but maybe, just maybe, agatha can keep her focused on something else. honestly it would be such a waste to not put all that combined cleavage to good use!

there she was, having a chat with sharon down in the dirt, and you guys went and dragged her up. like perfect morons. I love how she brought the flower along and it ended up working really well with the outfit

oh, rio knows. she knows everything.

and agatha SHOOTS UP and GETS TOO CLOSE and FLIRTS. oh my god this bitch. just like she did in episode 1, except now she's more collected and ever more deliberate. flirting is her best weapon of mass distraction against rio. because look, rio might know all her tricks but she's only (very marginally) human! who can blame her if she lets herself be seduced a little bit, just a little bit! for old times' sake! in rio's defense her wife is very hot and she misses her very much, your honor

rio is like, bitch I got you allllll figured out but also lemme gently caress your thigh. to enhance your acting performance. what's a little supportive yes, and between exes

she's sooo hamming it up. compare her face here with the genuine yearning at the end of the episode

oh this is hilarious. the others hear rio's flirting over the PA and panic, but no, girls, enthusing about murder is legit how they talk dirty!! (lol at lilia being like, right in front of my salad???)

"gasp!!!! that's my coVEN you're talking abOUT!!!! I'm not that kiND OF wiTCH anYMOWRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the ham! the ham! she might just bring the whole deli cart over at this point

and rio with her lil delighted laugh again. she doesn't get mad for one second, she didn't expect anything else. oh agatha, you silly goose, you're so damaged and so cute

let's recap what this fucker achieved with her latest performance, because it's always fascinating to study what's going on in agatha's ferociously scheming brain. she 1) distracted rio from billy. or at least tried to. 2) hinted at Rio's true nature to the others - who knows, maybe she can manipulate them into allying against her later on? 3) pretended to flirt but also flirted a lil bit forreal because there was a lot of skin showing and the flesh is weak etc etc 4) backpedaled alllllllll the way out when things got too intimate because she's too scared and resentful to get close to rio again. playing with fire as usual. or, as the kids say today, fucking around, about to find out

alice's trial has the best aesthetic fr fr. the 70s font!

I'm not 100% sure bcs it goes by so quickly but I think rio is dancing to the cursed music???

not the turntable!! that shit's vintage!!!!!!!

*brian de palma zoom*

*dramatic pause*

WE'VE BEEN CURSED (I love you patti lupone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

INJECT THIS AESTHETIC DIRECTLY INTO MY VEINS. also alice is red, billy and agatha are blue with purple undertones. the colors in this trial seem very deliberate

"she's a tourist." "she's a PSYCHO." look she never gets to just hang out and do fun things anymore, let her be!!

rio and lilia having a little staring contest as she plays with the knife. doing their own cute archnemeses thing

agatha shaking her head at billy and going shhh when he says 'maybe this curse isn't so bad.' like KID will you stop speaking HORRORS into existence?!?

alice standing with her back straight for the first time since like, ever? or since her mom died? did everyone in the family have their own personal demon or did it switch after killing the previous person? or wait, wait, was the curse only like, a metaphor until billy accidentally turned it into a disgusting 1970s animatronic harpy??

I'm convinced rio could see the demon from the beginning. look at her face here, she's the only one who sees both lilia burning and what's causing it

poor lilia must be thinking, burning witches? soooo original and not traumatic at all (lol at patti being a pro at screaming and writhing in pain on the floor. PROFESSIONAL ACTING)

no no no that's the reaping knife careful careful careful careful

alice's spell: expelle hoc malum, expel this evil. (rio when agatha tries it on her later: WHO ARE YOU CALLING EVIL)

lol. lmao, even. (just don't think about how jen has grown seLFISH TO SURVIVE AFTER HAVING TO LIVE POWERLESS AND DEFENSELESS FOR A CENTURY AND HOW SHE BECOMES MORE AND MORE GENEROUS AS SHE SPENDS TIME WITH ALICE AND LILIA)

oh noes my character just had a beast's giant talons perched on her shoulders i should flash the twins real quick so you can see it better

everyone else: EXTREME PANICKING

rio: stops reading her magazine to glance at the disgusting invisible harpy flapping around the room. goes back to the magazine.

and with this I'm off to my extreme friday night (tea and blankie and a book). ciao!

go to episode 4 part 4

[gaykarstaagforever]

Nautiluses. THIS goddamn animal.

The fundamentals of this design are HALF A BILLION YEARS OLD. Look at its weird eyes. It evolved back when eyes were still new. Those are literal pinhole cameras. Because nature invented photography the same way we did, apparently.

It doesn't have tentacles. Those are cirri, which lots of sea animals use to do all sorts of things. Fetal nautiluses have one giant slug foot that splits into these. They have noodle antennae made out of foot.

You can bring them up out of the ocean and they can survive the equivalent change of like 80 standard atmospheres. That shouldn't be possible. These things evolved a goddamn spacesuit...500 million years ago.

They also swim via jet propulsion. Their shells make them buoyant, which they can regulate, and they shoot water from a pump. So their 500 million year old spacesuit also has a goddamn rocket pack.

There have been 5 mass extinction events (we are causing a six one now). This thing has survived all of them. And it never got better eyes.

Or A BRAIN. That's right. This thing predates BRAINS. It has two separated lobes behind its top and bottom halves of beak that apparently work well enough that it can track smells with okay accuracy in total darkness, in 3 dimensions.

Here is one eating a dead fish.

Goddamn.

[angellayercake]

RITE HERE RITE NOW RANT

Where were the other Papas??⁉️? It isn't right that they had a combined thirty seconds of screen time!! 😡😡 If it wasn't for them Then copua wouldn't even this opportunity would he?🚫?

ANd to make it worse🤬 it was lonG‼️So there should have been more time.to. honour papas of the past🙌 but I have already made this point. I had to go to the BATHROOM🚽two times 2️⃣ because it was so long. also who wants tolook at him that long anyway👹

why??????❓❔⁉️ does he get so many outfits! Designer outfits twenty of the same jackets in different colours??🔵🔴🟡⚫🟢 some papas just wore their robes(boring) and some papas were forced to have their shirts sewn into their jackets with very improper tailoring just because ""if you INsist on white gloves that need To be changed every day we have to cut costs elsewhere👿"* but cooia gets two robes ANS everything else???

Papa Iii is much more handsome 🧛and would look much better in the hd4k surroundsound big screen then HIM SO papa iiI deserves a film more and they should bring jim back just to show everyone this😏 and go show the people what its like to see songs sang. Properly!!! you have not been ciriced until you have been ciriced by papa 3💜💜💟 or so I have heard snyway...

YHE ONLY THING that is good is that it accurately shows what a rude SELFish self absorbed man this cOPis is(although the old man deserves no respect 👍🏻👍🏻) just tonight he ate the last cannoli without offering to aNYONE!!! ELSE‼️‼️ SO this i do think the film does right

BUT....

The door slams open and he almost drops his phone in surprise. He was sat where he had been sat all evening, collapsed into this chair in the clergy commons after his disappointing dinner, thinking. His expression soured even further now it seemed another one of his brothers was here to ruin his day.

"Are you reading reviews of the movie again, frattelino?" Secondo asks, squinting at him across the dark room. "There is steam coming from your ears."

"I am not reading them no," he smirks a little, pushing the glasses he usually pretends not to need up his nose before continuing to tap away at his phone with his pointer finger. Secondo flicks on the light switch disrupting him once again with the blinding light so he shoots him a quick glare before resuming his somewhat frantic yet stilted typing.

"I do not like that look," he accuses, pointing at him as he crosses the room. "What are you doing then?" He circles the armchair in which Terzo is slouched, leaning around to look at the screen over his shoulder.

"None of your business," he pulls the phone to his chest to hide the screen. "Why must you stick your big old nose where it is not wanted eh?"

"Let me see!" He tries to wriggle away from his brother's seeking hand, tustling each other like they used to when they were children. He almost slides free but his escape is thwarted but his stupidly large brothers hand clamping onto his shoulder and pulling away his phone with the other.

"Give that BACK!" He struggles out of the squishy chair pushing his glasses back up into his hair so he can glare uninterrupted at his brother who is now scrolling through his review, shaking his head and tutting like a stupid old chicken.

"Terzo this isn't very nice," he says it so patronisingly he has to resist stamping his foot in frustration. Why should he be nice! He never got a moment like this and if he had he knows he would have done more, done better. And shouldn't Secondo be mad too?

"I stand by what I said," he huffs crossing his arms indignantly. "Aren't you annoyed? That we barely got a mention? Just that we were dead?"

"Well I would say I got about twenty of the thirty seconds we were on screen so how can I complain?" He expects the typical reaction he usually gets when he teases his brother but when Terzo instead, visibly deflates before flopping back into his chair he realises this might be a bit deeper than he thought.

"Terzo, come now, what is really the matter?" He moves to perch on the arm of the chair, handing him back his phone. When he doesn't respond straight away he reaches over to mess with his brother's habitually pristine hair, ruffling it into a birdnest as he used to before whenever Terzo got in his head and needed a distraction.

"Ay!" He shouts batting at his hand but at least he is glaring at him again instead of pouting dejectedly.

"I am happy for Copia, I suppose," he starts hesitantly smoothing his hair back into place. "It's just, we all worked hard too, and yes we may have not been as successful but without us to lay the ground work whose to say he would be 'rite here, rite now'." He waves his hands around, air quoting the title of the film dramatically.

"You are not wrong frattelino," he pauses before continuing trying to decide how to best console him. "But that is not what this story is about. It is about truly experiencing the moment you are in now, and not letting the times of the past or the what ifs of the future ruin it." His shoulders drop with a sigh so he wraps an arm around him squeezing him firmly.

"I just never got to..." He trails off but they both know what he was about to say.

"I know," he squeezes him again. "And none of that makes what they did to you right but that is in the past. People still love us no? We still have many praising us and screaming our names no matter what Copia does. We all have a place. Ours was over there, back then but who knows what the future will bring?" He stops when he sees his brother finally perking up.

"You are right I suppose," he shoots him a sideways glance. "This time at least." He picks up his phone and repositions his glasses on his nose. "I better delete all this then" He starts to tap away at the screen but Secondo stills his hand.

"I didn't say that," He says with a smirk. "You should add one about how his wig looks terrible."

"But Copia doesn't wear a... Oh!" They are far too old for this, Secondo thinks as they giggle like children coming up with more and more ridiculous complaints about the film. But right here, right now, he doesn't care.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

I'll Show You Just How Sad I Am

a raymond smith x reader quick little blurb, just 1k words

there's mentions of smut in this so read at your own risk <33 who knows, maybe raymond will make a more regular occurrence on my blog over the next few weeks

here's my masterlist in case you want to check out my other works

"Should be the door to your left, honey."

Your voice is sweet in his ear, a pleasant distraction from the run-down building Mickey had sent him off to. It's smelly and dirty and even though he knows he should most likely feel pity, he's still just as disgusted. He'd be with you in a heartbeat if he could, safe and clean in the comfort of your home.

"Mickey should've sent a cleaning lady", he grunts as he knocks at the door, your chuckle almost making up for the very truthful, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

"Mickey wanted you because you're the best", you recite - you've told him often enough by now that it really is reciting. "And because he trusts you to keep this clean."

Which is easier said than done.

Twenty minutes later, the whole thing's anything but clean.

Sure, he'd very much accomplished bringing Laura home - but he'd also left a dead teenager in a puddle of blood about two stories down from where he should've been sitting.

"Left, left!", you call into the mic. Even though you're far from panicking, you're still much too loud, your voice flowing from his earpiece and stinging his brain.

"I'm trying, darling", he grunts back, breathless and panting as he pushes on, one foot in front of the other on the pavement of some random South London streets.

"I know, I know", you sigh. He isn't sure whether he's actually hearing you chew on your lip or imagining it, but he doesn't really have the capacity to think too much about it at the moment. "He's right in front of you. You've got him, Ray."

Yeah... The only problem is that what you must be seeing as a moving, flashing dot on a digital map, he's seeing as a bunch of teenagers trying to look intimidating. Probably feeling intimidating too. God, this is exactly why he didn't want the job. He isn't made for the fucking low-classed youth.

"You've seen enough?", that bastard of a boy spits at him. "Now I've got backup."

Raymond steadies his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath in.

"You couldn't back up a phone, you cunt", he rasps, his erratic heartbeat slowly starting to calm back down.

"Raymond", you scold. "That's a child."

"That's a bastard", he mutters, before he finally straightens and tries his best at a somewhat mannered bargain. He's really only here for the fucking phone. He needs those pictures, then he's gone. He doesn't want to leave more unnecessary corpses to take care of.

So he offers them money. Which is something that they should definitely take, just judging by how they look. Plus a visit to a very good psychiatrist. But they don't. It's the same fucking bastard who's taken the pictures in the first case and got him into this mess that refuses - and in such a really stupid way, too: "How 'bout you give us that bag and be gone anyway?" - god, even you let out a choked up laugh at that, your breath carrying through the mic and into Ray's earpiece.

He drops his chin to his chest and shakes his head. What a fucking bunch of idiots. Goddamn it. He can feel his blood boil, hot and hotter.

"It's bait", you mutter, your voice low. "Calm down, love. You've got a machine gun. Use it."

Yeah, fucking hell, it's bait, he knows that. It doesn't change the way he's feeling. But your voice in his ear at least brings him back down to reality.

"Right", he grunts, then he swipes his coat to the side, closes his hand around the grip of the gun and steadies his fingertips against the trigger. He pulls it out in one swift motion, points it at the sky and shoots. For a good three seconds longer than necessary.

"Just like that", you breathe, your grin dripping down onto your voice and melting into his ear like honey. You've really got to stop that, he actually loses his focus for half a moment there and in his line of work, next time that means sure death.

The entire bunch of teenage boys flees - as expected - and in less than a minute, Raymond has the phone pressed into his palm.

"God, sometimes I really hate that I'm not there", you sigh, something in the background ruffling, probably as you shift into a more comfortable position on your chair. "Kinda wish I could've seen you."

"Run after a little cunt like that? You didn't miss anything, darling", he says, turning his head left and right before he strides back towards the car, his steps long and purposeful.

"Turn the corner here", you mutter, your voice taking on that specific tone that tells him there's a lazy grin licking at your lips. He can just imagine how you're looking (especially now that he has the time and freedom of mind for it) - one foot propped up on those bar stools that you'd bought for the kitchen, your equipment organised on the table top in front of you, his shirt hanging from your shoulders and pooling in your lap, your head tilted back and your eyes half-closed as you talk to him.

"I don't mean the little idiot", you go on, undeterred even as he narrowly avoids a trash can. Fuck, you really distract him too much. "I'm talking about you. God, you sounded so hot I wanted to jump at you. Actually scratch that, I still do."

He lets out a chuckle as he spots the car, his steps slowing. He should hurry up, he knows that. But he's got you in his ear, talking in that sweet voice of yours about just how much he affects you. He can't pass up on that.

"You're a little fuckin' minx, darling", he mutters with a grin, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check if there's any possibility he could be overheard. He doesn't necessarily feel like making your conversation public, even as you hum into the microphone.

"Yeah, but yours", you mumble. It sounds like you're almost proud of that. "Here's an idea, love: Get back home before I finish my shower and I'll show you just how sad I am that I couldn't watch you."

[st4vk1nmybra1n]

I love you, don't act so surprised?!

cont: Model!Gojo x GN!reader, sweet sweet gojo and his silly thoughts!! Wc: 1.5k.

Lovestruck. A little stupid, admittedly. Not charming, and surely not as cool. That's how Gojo Satoru would describe himself in the presence of the only person who can tolerate his ideas, sometimes even surpassing his stupidity to give him a reality check and shut him up. Like really quickly. To the point where he feels embarrassed for himself. And he never feels embarrassed about his beautiful brain and its beautiful thoughts. He knows everything about him is beautiful. I mean– he's a model for a reason, you know?

You were sort of an enigma. You weren't his manager, but sometimes he wishes he could just have you be his manager because you were just that good at making him seem like a saint. He faintly thinks it must be because of those really expensive media training classes his dad paid for. The one that he, you, and suguru had taken. Not like he really paid attention then. Oh well! He has a pretty face, why should he hold back his words? Though he'd definitely argue you'd make a better model. You had the media training, the professionalism, the skill, the knowledge (about a lot of things. Some things, more than the other. But you were smart!), and you definitely had the looks! 

You were gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous. You had the right features. No matter what anyone else thinks, he's sure he could probably capture your beauty with a camera. He's no photographer or whatever, but even he knows you can look good under any circumstances. Whenever he watches back his interviews and any and every video of him on the internet (which he does because he knows he's hot. That's it.), you always seem to capture his eyes. You're not even the main focus of the videos in most cases. You appear briefly, fixing his hair or telling him to straighten up a bit more. Or maybe the camera pans to you when you're behind the scenes, grinning at the camera as you make a cheeky remark about him. He thinks you look.. a little too good when you're feeling sly..

You have your own job and life going on, but it's so heavily ingrained in his head that his days can't pass without you in them. It's like the day's exhaustion washes away when he shows up at your doorstep after a long day of shooting. Or when you show up in the morning with waffles for breakfast, first thing in the morning when you know he has a big shoot coming up. He just loves you– or well– spending time with you (???), nothing more. Yeah, for sure!

Most people feel nervous in his presence. He knows he exudes an energy of confidence and self assurity. It may sound egotistical but it's simply a truth, a fact everyone knows. He's not surprised when people stammer and stumble over their words when talking to him, or when their eyes wander over him. He knows it's only natural for them. It's something he doesn't pay much mind to, it just makes him feel even more satisfied. Whenever he'll crack a joke, they'll crack a smile, laugh with their cheeks tinted. It almost feels as though he's entertaining them. Don't get him wrong, he loves being ogled at, but he needs entertainment too! Then there's people who look at him in such a way where he can see the gears of creativity churning in their heads. All the ways they could film him, all the angles they could use to photograph him to bring out his best (which is also something that's just him existing), all the ways they could draw him or paint him. He's observant like that, he sees it all.

But for you, Shoko, and Suguru, it's different. His friends don't have that look of wonder or nervousness when they look at him. They're all used to it, he knows. After spending so many years together, it's clear that's the case. Suguru himself was into photography, though not as much to pursue it as more than a hobby. Suguru often did capture photos of satoru. But he didn't care to skirt around the subject when he felt satoru was doing something he hadn't envisioned. He would tell satoru straight up to pose again, and 'leave out the sass this time'. His friends won't hesitate to shut him up if he says something stupid, maybe even whack him against the back of his head. They don't care to sugarcoat their words, or to conceal the fact that they'll laugh in his face if he does something that they think is stupid. And he likes that! It's something he especially likes about you. That when he cracks a joke, you'll double down with something funnier that'll send everyone into another 10 minute laughing fit. He likes it when he asks if you could pass him something, and you answer 'no' with the straightest face ever, as you hand him the mentioned object. He likes when he asks you a dumb question, you answer with something even dumber. Sometimes to add to the joke, sometimes to humble his stupidity.

 Oh, and he loves when he's taking a video and he calls you over, you'll look up at the mention of your name, and instinctively smile as you see his camera. He loves it when you give him and Suguru ideas on their next photoshoot, demonstrating Satoru's potential poses with a dramatic face, sometimes breaking out into a cheeky grin as you tried imitating satoru. He loves when you get sassy and cheeky, he loves it when you know you've caught him slacking, your knowing and sly grin making him feel even more heated than he could imagine. He probably mentioned that earlier, too. He loves way too many things about you. Next thing you know, he probably loves you! But that's not true.. definitely not! 

He's also a liar. He does love you. A lot. A recent revelation. Shamefully, he thinks the way that most people get nervous around him is oddly reminiscent of how he is around you. Except, he's not boring and dull. If anything, he makes the funniest jokes ever! His eager eyes are always finding your frame everytime he cracks a joke, just to see you burst out laughing at him. He's made himself the butt of the joke more times than he can count, just to see you give him a sarcastic and satire response, or even better– when you laugh at him. Maybe it's a twisted feeling, to feel joy from such a thing. But he really could handle doing anything if it meant seeing you smile at him.

"You've been locked up here for an hour. Do you wanna start getting ready for our photoshoot or do you wanna continue to stare at that photo frame of you and your.. family." Suguru's voice interrupts his thoughts, his brow raised at his friend as he looks over at Satoru, who had been staring at a picture of you, him, and your cinnamoroll plushie and his digimon plushie. 

Satoru remembers that day. It was after Suguru had finished taking pictures of him, and you'd been sitting just watching, with his treasured plushie in your hand, while your own cinnamoroll plushie was also seated on your lap. "Let's get a photo of the whole family. Satoru and I, and our two sons!" You chimed in, rushing into the frame as you leaned in against Satoru. You both took a sequence of photos, ranging from bright grins on your faces, to your faces completely serious, like a true family portrait. And then later on his birthday, you gifted him a large frame of the photo (alongside other gifts, of course), which he put up in his bedroom, without even having to put much thought into it. 

"Are you gonna confess? Stop staring at that frame and do something about it." Suguru chided, clicking his tongue. 

"Give me a break! I only just realized like.. 2 weeks ago. I need time to process everything!" He responded to Suguru, tone whiney and dramatic.

"2 weeks too late, maybe. We all noticed like, 2 years ago. You're late to the party. Do something about it before I do something about it." Suguru threatened loosely, placing his hands on his hips.

"Ey! You can't do that! Mine. Mine only." Satoru gasped in offense, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms, lips forming into a pout.

"I meant I'd air out your business, not ask them out, you idiot!" Suguru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Oh. Oh! That's good for him, Satoru thinks. He plans on telling you, sooner or later. But sometimes, he just likes to stare at you and admire what you have already. But he knows he can't risk it. You're more gorgeous than he is, and that's saying something. He knows there's a chance someone may come in and sweep you off your feet, and he would never allow someone as beautiful as you to end up with someone who isn't him. It's simple logic, really. An ethereal person such as you, only deserves someone who's as breathtaking as you. Not to toot his own horn, but he's pretty sure he's the only one who fits that criteria. It's just meant to be! You and him. He's known it deep down inside all along. He wouldn't have it any other way, of course.

side note: i just wanna add that i almost LOST the ENTIRE fic and cried for 10 mins before i eventually found out how to restore it! so i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did <3333

[aclockmaker]

Part 2 now here

Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).

And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.

Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.

And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.

And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—

The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"

They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.

His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).

Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.

They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.

Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."

"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”

It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.

[violetwanderer]

Raising Grogu with Din Would Include:

Din Djarin x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence and injuries

Word Count: 723

Masterlist

Do not copy or translate my works

If you were traveling with Din before you two acquired Grogu:

Din would probably find this a lot easier to deal with, as he has someone to consult on everything. If you've known each other quite a while and the trust has already been built up, then this situation becomes a lot easier

From first picking up the child as a bounty, to taking him back from the Empire and even how to take care of him while you two travel. You talk everything through as a team

You might not always agree, but Din is glad to hear a different perspective. It helps him figure out if he's doing the right thing in each situation

It's especially handy when you two have to leave the ship for whatever reason. There's always an extra set of eyes on the child this way and an extra set of hands if someone needs to carry him 

If you're good in a fight, it means there's someone else willing to protect the child from the Empire as well. That's something he is eternally grateful for

Over time, Din starts to see the two of you as Grogu's parents, even when he knows he shouldn't, like when the Armourer told him he must bring Grogu back to his own kind

It makes it even harder to not get attached to the little one when the whole situation feels so domestic at times 

Like when he's watching you give Grogu a bath or rocking the little one to sleep after a long day

There's also someone to share his anguish when he has to give Grogu to Luke. You have each other to lean on, even if he isn't the best at showing his emotions

The joy you both feel when Grogu returns is indescribable. It's like you're a family once again

This time Din would want to make it more formal, more official. He'd want you all to be a clan of three

He would be nervous about making his feelings for you known, but so happy when they are reciprocated. The three of you would be a happy little family, with much fewer threats once Mandalore is taken back and Moff Gideon is killed

If you meet Din after he acquired Grogu:

Naturally Din is much less trusting of you

They've come across too many enemies in their travels and the child has been hunted across the galaxy 

He probably meets you through Peli Moto when he needs his ship fixed by her and needs someone to watch Grogu

It doesn't matter how nice you are or how much Grogu seems to like you from the moment he meets you, you're still a stranger to him 

Still, you prove yourself as someone willing to do anything for the child when you defend him against someone who tries to take him. Din arrives just in time to shoot the guy dead

He has needed someone to mind Grogu for quite a while now and he starts to think you're the perfect option 

He offers the job and you take it, even though you don't know him well. You can't say no to taking care of the little one, not when he looks up at you with those big eyes

It takes a while for Din to adjust to you living with him on the ship. It's harder than when Grogu joined him because you take up much more space 

Still, he remains polite at all times and slowly warms up to you, enjoying your company after being on his own for so long 

It isn't until you get injured protecting Grogu that he realises just how much he cares about you. Seeing you hurt nearly makes his heart stop 

After that, he's much more protective of you and always has his hand on your back when you're out in public together. He feels he can protect you better when he's touching you somehow 

It isn't long after this that Din realises he can't keep his feeling secret any longer and confesses them to you nervously

Of course, you feel the same way and the two of you naturally grow much closer, with him now seeing you as another parent to Grogu

You're not just someone he hired to mind the child anymore, you're part of his clan 

[bunnypansy]

Whiskey, Neat

Rated E, for EVERYONE!

Boothill is the most annoying customer you have to deal with.

Featuring: Boothill and YOU!

Beware! This film contains: Probably OOC Boothill (made before his release), gender neutral reader, the reader doesn't like straight whiskey sorry guys, not quite frenemies to lovers....? more like two ppl annoying the fuck outta each other, Boothill threatens to kill you once or twice, but he also flirts, a touch of angst at the VERY end, mention of sexual harassment but it's just the reader calling Boothill a creep I repeat there is zero sexual harassment in this fic

Boothill is a thorn in your side. No, no; you find yourself thinking that comparison is too tame. To you, Boothill is a girdle made of barbed wire. You thought it impossible to hate a man at such a depth until you met the outlaw. He always smelled like hot pennies and diesel, never paid his tab, and harassed the rest of the bar staff to such a degree that none of them would serve him. Except you.

For the first few months of your “relationship”, you were only acquainted with Boothill from the countless times you had to drag him away from the bar top and throw him out the front door. Shortly after that, your boss said you should learn a thing or two about bartending for “no good reason”. You were starting to catch on. Soon enough your position as security faded away and was replaced with “the guy who dealt with Boothill”. You can't complain, the pay is better and you have the eternal gratitude of your coworkers.

In a matter of mere seconds, the front doors swing open, and three deafening gunshots shatter the eardrums of everyone in the bar.

“Alright, everyone out.” Just like that, you watch all the good tips run right out the door, along with the rest of the wait staff. Now left in an empty bar, Boothill throws his arms wide, gun still held tight in his metal fingers. “I'm back, baby! You miss me?”

The revolver takes a seat at the bar top before Boothill does, slammed down hard against the wood, its barrel pointed right at you. You're not worried, Boothill doesn't shoot on accident.

“Like a hole in the head.” You quit cleaning a glass and glance at the new bullet holes placed just above the door. “Or the ceiling… order your drink and get the fuck outta here already, Boots. You're killing business.”

“Keep mouthin’ off and I'll be killin’ more than business, sweetheart.” As if to prove his point, the freak of nature spits a few bullets onto the bar top and starts reloading his gun.

You can't help but roll your eyes at Boothill’s threats. The man offers to shoot you every other breath, but he'll never do it- if he was going to kill you, you'd already be dead. You're the only man still alive who talks to Boothill like that. Probably because you're the only man alive who’ll still serve him a drink. “You're not gonna kill me, Boots. Piss off any more bartenders and you're gonna have to get your fix from the hand sanitizer in public bathrooms.” 

A deep scowl takes over Boothill’s face. “You're just askin’ for me to hop this counter and kiss you right on that pretty mouth of yours.” He stops then, equal parts embarrassed and furious as a hand comes to grasp at his own throat, surely cursing his internal censor system.

“Wow, sexual harassment, that's a new low, even for a hunk of junk like you.” You snort and a short glass finds its way into your hands. You're already pulling the strongest whiskey you have from beneath the counter, knowing Boothill will ask for it any second.

As if intentionally subverting your expectations, the outlaw kicks his feet up on the bar with an amused chuckle and a smug smile that makes you want to punch his teeth right out of his face. 

“You just call me a hunk?” Six words in and you're already exasperated beyond belief. He's leaving crusty speckles on your clean bar. “Darlin’, if you wanted to take me out so bad, you coulda’ just asked.” 

You elbow Boothill right in the ankles; it brings a mild ache to your arm as bone meets unrelenting metal, but the pain is worth it to watch the self-satisfied prick lose his grin and nearly fall out of his chair. “I’d rather drink a pint of sand and chew the glass it came in, take your drink and get outta here.”

The glass slides across the bar just a touch too fast, the liquid fire inside threatening to slosh over the sides; if Boothill's hand hadn't shot out to catch the glass, it surely would've sailed right off the bar and shattered on the floor. 

“Come on now sweet thing, don't act like you hate me.” He recuperates much too fast, already leaning on his palm. There's a horrible, discordant shrieking emitted by the friction of metal against glass; Boothill running his fingertip around the rim of the glass. “Can't deny we’ve got some kinda chemistry.”

“Oh, it ain't acting, trust.” You snort at Boothill’s shot at… Well, you're not sure; could this be called flirting? If so, it's a laughable attempt. “We've got chemistry like bleach and ammonia.” 

You know he's got some smart-mouthed response when Boothill bares his pointed teeth in a massive grin. “Could say we'd be… breathtakin’?” 

It's horrible. That joke is worse than any sugar-coated insult Boothill could toss your way. One hand shoots out to grasp Boothill’s glass, the other going to grip his chin. 

“Agh- what the-” You don't give Boothill time to finish, wedging your fingers between his razor-sharp teeth to pry his mouth open and dump the glass of whiskey down his throat. He gargles once, coughs twice, and swats at your hands furiously. 

“You had your drink. Now run off, you robotic trash-eating vermin.” Fresh bruises are purpling on your wrists from Boothill’s strikes. It could still be worse. He could tell another joke.

Boothill is still sputtering like a drowned rat, grasping at his throat and swearing- or doing his best impression of it. “What in heaven’s holy gates, darling!?” He coughs again. “You tryna’ give me a heart attack you cute little minx?! Who just pours a drink down a man's throat?!”

“Someone who's trying to get the man to leave. You had your drink, now scram before I call animal control.” You reach to take away Boothill’s empty half-glass, only to get caught in the outlaw’s iron grip.

His spare hand slams down against the bar top, a cacophony of delicate tinkling ringing out as glassware rattles and bumps against itself. “Oh don't pull that cute crap with me, sweetheart! Pour me another one, so I can drink it nice and slow.” 

“You're a jackass, you know?” The words come out hissed between your teeth, roiling with barely concealed hatred, but you’re already moving to pour him another. Every time you encounter Boothill, you curse his stubbornness. 

“Watch your mouth.” His grip relaxes slightly, but he keeps his stern expression as he sits back down. “Whiskey, neat.”

You almost laugh, jerking your wrist out of his grasp- does Boothill seriously think you need a reminder? Though you’d much rather kick him to the curb with a few extra bullet holes in his ugly hat, you pour Boothill a second drink with an insulted scoff. “Yeah, yeah, I know what you fuckin’ drink.”

When Boothill takes the drink this time, he tilts the glass towards you in an encouraging motion. “Pour one for yourself, too.” The look you give him must be an incredulous one, because he scowls and waves a hand at you dismissively. “Aw, Pete's sake. Just do it!”

The sigh you heave is so heavy that Boothill briefly looks for an open window, thinking there’s a draft coming in. You drag your feet through pulling down a second glass, lamenting that now you have two dishes to do when the outlaw leaves. The pour you give yourself can be more accurately called a sip, barely coming to the width of your finger. When Boothill shoots an exasperated look your way, you already have a retort prepped for him.

“Not all of us can drink in the middle of the damn day, Boots.” You stare down at the drink, swirling it lightly with a disgusted grimace. “Besides, I’m no fan of straight whiskey. I’m more of an Old Fashioned kind of guy.”

The way Boothill smiles smugly makes you wanna punch dents into his metal chest. “Oh, bless your heart, that’s cute. Stuff’s too sweet for me, personally.” He lifts his glass to you, asking for a toast.

“Too sweet? Hell, Boots. Maybe hand sanitizer is a good match for you.” Reluctantly, you tilt your glass towards his, the rims letting out a high ringing as they meet.

This time Boothill pulls an exasperated face, raising the glass to sit just in front of his lips. “Just drink already, I’m tryna’ be nice, and you’re out here ruinin’ it with your smart lil’ mouth.” 

After a second of hesitation, staring into the amber, you tip the glass back and let the drink slide down your throat. It burns, chemical and hot, like sandpaper tearing through your esophagus. It’s all you can do to not dry heave at the feeling, but you can’t stifle a coughing fit. “Fucking hell- how can you drink this shit?”

The drink came much easier to Boothill, nursing his whiskey as if he were only sipping on tap water. “Guess I just got a more refined palette, sweet thing. Thanks for sharin’ a drink with me anyway. You make a guy feel less lonely.”

For once, Boothill seems strangely earnest and you can’t help but be put off guard. You suppose, with such a polarizing personality and by the very nature of outrunning the law, Boothill must live quite the isolating life. Then again, if he wanted to be less alone, he could simply stop getting himself kicked out of bars. Still, you stumble over your words for a second, looking for a proper thing to say, and in the end only muttering out a sorry; “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

Even to you, that doesn’t quite make you sound like yourself. Dishes, you have dishes to do, a distraction that can carry your mind away from Boothill’s odd shift in demeanor. You’re expecting a snide comment about how quiet you’re being, but when you look back at Boothill, he’s fixed his gaze on an empty wall; clearly, he’s far away from here. You’re trying not to think about it too hard- Boothill’s seemingly flirtatious remarks, asking you to drink -but in the empty bar, it’s silent, and it’s almost… nice.

I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON REQUESTS. I PROMISE. the Barbatos fic is coming out to be twice as long as just about anything else I've written so it's taking a long time. I saw Boothill things and was possessed by spirits to make this. Also. Yes inspired by the Hozier song

[isackwhy]

Please do write them in the apocalypse it would be funny and i know it🙏

okay….y’all convinced me….

tgc boy’s in an apocalypse hc’s (kinda x reader)

isaacwhy

i think he’d survive pretty fucking long dare i say

resourceful

also strong so

and he knows how to shoot guns apparently

if u didn’t know how he’d 100% show u

kills snakes and yells at the ppl who complain that’s for dinner

“SOFT HANDS. YALL GOT SOFT HANDS”

def the type to speak to the walkers like they’re human before killing them

“oh brother you look like shit”

saves u extra food

tries to take the role of leader

gets shot down immediately

accidentally fucks around and finds out

like he does some shit couldn’t do legally beforehand and gets like mildly hurt

really observant over like u and the guys

listens for every sound

bigt

doesn’t take this shit seriously 9/10 times

finds a bandanna and it becomes his thing

“hey larry, do i look cool?” as he holds up an smg he stole off a dead guy

the one that cracks jokes even after a whole horde nearly killed y’all

“well��at least it wasn’t a close call”

it was.

will tend to u before anyone else

cooks up random ass shit w random ass shit and will eat it happily

gathers the items

tries to open a shop and basically gets told to go fuck himself

would try and use a spear

fails miserably

larrycroft

has the devious plans to get y’all out of sticky situations

sometimes u can’t tell if he’s being deadass bc they’re so odd until he does said plan

wants to die bc of how much of a picky eater he is and how he has like no choice to eat it

sleeps in trees above yall

will steal u clothes and jewelry

would somehow find an mp3 player and it becomes yalls godsend

tells stories near the fire

the small but mighty type

like will sneak up on people and kill (if needed)

tries to eat random berries

do not let him eat the random berries .

will pretend he knows what they are

he doesn’t.

him and tanner bring back random ass shit to decorate ur base w (if u have one idk)

softwilly

also tried to make himself leader.

not happening.

there’s no leader

went to school for chemistry so i imagine he’s good at making that kind of stuff

does know which berries to eat

brings bento w him

“bet ur missing ur vape right now isaac”

“i fucking hate u”

makes all the traps for like walkers and animals

complains every time u sleep in the woods

is adamant on when to switch watch shifts

like will shake u from a slumber if it’s ur turn

feel like he’d use a pistol idk

subconsciously handles most of the confrontations w ppl w isaac

freaks out when y’all don’t have somewhat clear water

and still wants to be as clean as possible so he will disappear to bathe in a lake if possible

loves surprising u w random shit he found as a little gift

yumi

sniper. and a good sniper too

maybe siege influenced him idk

kinda takes it the most seriously

“guys. enough. we don’t know what could be in here”

makes sure the rations are even smh

steals random leaves to pretend they’re weed and pretends to roll them for u

but would also steal flowers for u

“i’m done walking. there’s a building there”

somehow still dripped out

found a fanny bag and it’s his prized possession

doesn’t take shit from anyone

probably will curse a guy out and end up in a fight

that’s all my brain got got now

[asraindarkness]

If it’s okay, not necessarily BuckTommy but -

This season feels SO weird. It’s even weirder because for the first time they had a long time to plan it - they knew they were renewed for a Season 8 early into Season 7. So much so that, for the first time, they let the season end with a cliffhanger. Multiple, even.

And they they dropped all of them in a rushed and unsatisfactory way. If they didn’t want S7’s plots to continue on to 8, they could’ve ended them in S7. Never bring Ortiz or Gerard back. But instead, they went with the oddest choice and created a nice cliffhanger, only to disappoint pretty much everyone.

But for me it’s more than that. It’s also the way the characters don’t always feel like them. You’re telling me Buck never went into a deep dive about queer history or rights when he discovered he’s bi?? that Maddie would make the making men gay comment?? that Chimney wouldn’t talk to Hen about the possible second pregnancy?? I could go on and on.

And the dynamics also feel… broken. We barely have friendship moments, at all. Buddie this season feels weird, like Eddie doesn’t really want to be bothered by Buck. Hen and Chim are barely communicating. The firefam doesn’t have moments outside of emergencies (save that montage of them asking Bobby for help).

It feels like the writers have stopped knowing how to write these characters and their dynamics. And for me the found family that I fell in love with at first watch feels gone, you know?

i’ve been saying this since s6!

like aren’t they tried of keep writing buck the same all the time??? he doesn’t get promoted on his job that he’s fucking good at it, they had a kind of story about it when buck wanted to be captain in s6 and then bridge fall happened and buck was a fucking powerhouse in it and i thought they finally gonna show buck more that just a young goofy firefighter that thinks on his feet, show them he’s a leader but then they dropped it.

he doesn’t get into lasting relationship and is always chasing one and apparently now he’s gonna forget his character’s growth and gonna be right back in s1. it’s like buck’s always gonna be the boyish bratt they made in s1 when he was 25/6 not a 33yo man!

eddie can’t fucking move on for 6/7 years and tries constantly to make a mom out of everything woman he dates but now a confession and a random priest apparently healed him like he was possessed not fucking mentally traumatized!

madney are most of the times are dealing with doug that comes out like random jump scares. maddie had 2 stories last season both was about her trauma with him. yes you can’t heal from something like that for a long time or possibly never but for god’s sake that woman raised his brother as his own child when she was still a child herself and what did 911 do with this part of her? NOTHING

and you don’t need me talk about hemren’s endless suffering

and where is athena’s children???

it’s been a mess since s6 but now it’s wors cuz tim starts writing 5 minutes before they start shooting. i said it 100 times the only thing good about s7 was buck’s bi arc. they make a big deal out of problems and solve them in most childish ways in the same episode!

i know it’s basically a soap opera but ffs it’s not a fantasy. they pulled dead wife no.2 cuz it’s a soap but in what word a child can land a plane?

honestly after i reed that tim rewatched the whole thing before writing for bi buck i was sure the show gonna back to its root where chim and hen are besties and hen and athena spend time together etc etc, but apparently all he got from that is abby had a boyfriend named tommy

[leosficlist]

Post S3 Getting Together

Here for your reading pleasure are the fics I had bookmarked that take place after Series 3 or diverge from canon somewhere in there. Post-Mary, some acknowledging the wedding, a few with Rosie.

Lines Written In Kensington Gardens by CaitlinFairchild 6.1k words

Thirty-five was the established boundary, Sherlock decided after extensive calculations. He would be dead by thirty-five. That was the kind of man he was. That was the kind of life he lived.

At thirty-four, a year before his appointed rendezvous with oblivion, Sherlock met a man. Nobody special, or so he thought, an ordinary man--who soon proved extraordinary, a man who killed without hesitation to protect a life Sherlock cared nothing about.

This is the story of how Sherlock Holmes lived long enough to grow old.

Vena Cava by SilentAuror 27.4k

Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

All Wrapped Up by ThorntonsHeart 4.9k words

“John is back in Baker Street where he belongs but the Christmas present wrapping isn't going well! Of course, it's just another one of Sherlock's amazing gifts that he can wrap anything. John challenges him to prove it. Silliness ensues, chances are taken and the boys finally get everything they ever wanted for Christmas.”

notes: slight pwp, but romantic and lovely getting together

Nobody, Not Even the Rain, has Such Small Hands by miss_frankenstein 3.6k

“Will you need fresh socks?”

Sherlock’s voice immediately brings John back to the present. “What?”

Sherlock gestures irritably to the wet socks clutched in John’s hand. “Socks,” he says again sharply because he hates repeating himself, “Will you need fresh socks?”

notes: set somewhere in S3, John finally seizes his chance with Sherlock, Mary be damned. kinda arguing pre-confession

Your Daughter by agirlsname 9.3k words

Five times Sherlock held John's baby and one time he held John.

John didn't forgive Mary for shooting Sherlock, so the end of HLV didn't happen. When the baby comes John lives with Sherlock at Baker Street, and they take care of the newborn together. Sherlock adores her more than he's prepared for. Oh, and he might have something important to confess to John...

notes: absolutely beautiful devotional from Sherlock to the babygirl, who has no name mentioned.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror 42k words

When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

notes: loved their slow paced getting together, heart clenching intimacy. post s3 in that it acknowledges that Mary shot Sherlock.

Are you happy? by amateurwriter 2.9k words

"The only option is, that you have some sort of a plan. Some crazy, brilliant plan that requires me living with her. So please, Sherlock. Tell me. I won't even be mad that you're keeping such essential things from me again. I promise. Just tell me. Tell me it's not much longer and I can come back here and just be with you like we were before. Tell me, Sherlock."

notes: porn with plot

Inked in Memory by 221b_hound 9.7k words

John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary's death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It's too late, now, for the things he first denied before he'd ruined any chances he might have had.

Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he's about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it's not as late as he thinks it is.

Many Happy Returns by sussexbound  5.5k

One did not surprise Sherlock Holmes on his birthday. It was not his ‘thing’. It was rarely appreciated. John knows this. He knows, but… [] But John can’t forget. [] All those things only made John love him more, but therein lies the problem, and the source of all his current turmoil. John loves Sherlock.

The Romance Was There by apliddell 4k words

In which Sherlock reveals his merits as a housekeeper, and a few other things, too.

notes: christmastime, domestic fluffy, harry over for the holidays, sharing a bed, sherlock writes a love letter

Eggs and Toast and Love Confessions by allonsys_girl 10.3k words

These two really are such idiots, but they figure it out in the end.

notes: loved their characterizations and their chemistry, realistic first time after getting together, john's bad at talking about his feelings

State of Flux by Atiki 24.6k

John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

notes: love how they talk about their feelings, slowburn that doesn't drag

The Date (reprise) by distantstarlight 1.9k words

Sherlock Holmes is feeling low and blue but John is having none of it. It's Christmas Eve, and things to do.

notes: fluffy christmas getting together, mentions of mary so putting it in post s3

The Dread Pirate Roberts by loveanddeathandartandtaxes  1.2k words

"We first need to know if this new Moriarty is as… zealous as the last.” “I bet your boyfriend wasn’t secretly a lying assassin who tried to kill your best friend, though,” I can’t resist grumbling. Ever the drama queen, he throws his hands in the air and sighs loudly. “Can we please - just - focus, John?” Putting my hand to my face, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I just thought having boyfriends wasn’t a thing you did.”

notes: if you like john leaving mary for sherlock