#Herbert likes existing

[eyes-like-the-night]

I feel like it’s that joy for life and experiencing things that Krolock has seen fade in each and every other vampire, including himself, and it hurts each time to see people damned to just dragging themselves through year after year and at some point you stop really noticing the changes and it all gets monotonous. If it wasn’t for Herbert Krolock probably would have become the same way, just as miserable with his existence as all the vampires in the graveyard.

[sawtrappedirl]

All I can think about is the fact that Herbert seems way more happy in the 2nd movie, so it means that he got comfortable enough around Dan to stop masking. I’m so sick, I miss them. In my head they’re married

[andruillus]

healthy and rosy meg and 'came back wrong' meg. it's been a while since i've done some re-animator fanart but i still love my number one girl

[dimeadozencows]

Waiting an appropriate amount of time to post this so that I don't spoil anyone

Anyway

I am a feral fucking animal

[scooterpengie]

Miss Heed's ideal scenario 💞 Objectively this would be an awful ending but honestly if my girl is happy then I'm happy 😌

Also can we talk about what a cool ship these 3 actually make?? Like it's Flug x his sworn enemy x his childhood friend/crush who betrayed him for said sworn enemy (who she's also madly in love with) Think of the drama... I kinda ship it now 😂

[taevincii]

I hate justin. He has me chokehold. My attraction is unhealthy. Mea Culpa.

Lo sé, yo también 😭😭

I need him to leave me alone! He can’t keep getting away with ruining my life.

I literally barked when I saw this photo. Like it’s not fair.

What’s even funnier is this man doesn’t give a damn 😭 just a regular, basic dude who loves football. And we’re all foaming at the mouth. Insane. I should sue for emotional distress.

[letsduneit]

made the mistake of checking dune twitter and all i can say is frank herbert himself would be astounded by the misogyny because tell my why people are pitting irulan and chani against each other. why are they turning it into a contest. and for god's sake why are they determining the winner based on who a random man wanted to fuck more. this is peak pick me behavior and both of these women - book and movie versions alike- would be appalled and disappointed. shame on all of you

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Is Beyond Re-Animator worth watching?

[pummelingbat]

Astarion 🤝 Majima

subjected to an existence of pain & dehumanization so severe it made them rewrite their entire personalities from the ground up but, like, they're staying silly with it

[a-pigeons-soliloquy]

gnawing on the bars of my enclosure at that Will Salieri art btw. i don't know ANYONE else in this fandom who knows that musical 😭

omg another person who knows mozart l'opera rock???? hello!!!!!!!!!! so happy that there's at least two of us lol

[onewomancitadel]

I think it's funny that I've Duncan Idaho hateposted when I only just recently recalled that Paul/Duncan is the biggest, if only, ship taken away from the 2021 film adaptation. You get stuck with him for six books and see how you like it

[pumpkinland]

today i found out that people on tumblr write nfl rpf and i dont know why it surprised me but im scared

[swag-system]

Not nonhuman in an alter way or in a otherkin way but a secret third thing

[1-lightofjustice]

There's also Epic of Gilgamesh by Danny P Jackson, but for me personally not really recommended to OP since it skips some parts that are crucial in my opinion (like Enkidu turned to bless Shamhat after cruelly cursing her, completely speedrun battle with Humbaba with just like 6 short sentence) and for writer's bias toward non-sexual brotherly relationship between Gilgamesh and Enkidu (which indeed still valid interpretation but not one I agree with). For example his rendering on one of gayest Gilgamesh and Enkidu segment in tablet 12 :

(I mean, whether old translation that said Enkidu described some female lover's vulva to Gilgamesh or translation that said Enkidu described his own penis and 'sweet spot' to Gilgamesh, for me the bits about Underworld have no sex and Gilgamesh despaired about it is kinda important for Gilgamesh's characterization as my horny himbo imho. But again that's up to interpretation. Still "skin and bones" is eh... The book also skipped any mention of kiss, which is lame).

But all flaws aside, you can enjoy this book for your Gilga-archiving or seeing different kind of perspective (while enjoying the writer's effort on no-homoing Gilgamesh's Wet Dream part and Lament for Enkidu part). This book also composed with pretty neat rhyme so it's more pleasant to read, plus some rad illustrations like this one :

And this is the quote I love most from this book

“Hold my hand in yours, and we will not fear what hands like ours can do.”

P:S = @haustafall HOLY MARDUK I DESPERATELY NEED THE DEREK HINES GILGAMESH PLAY PRETTY PLEASE TELL ME WHERE CAN I HAVE IT (preferable the e-book version)

can anyone on this gay ass website give me an opinion on which translation of the epic of gilgamesh i should read? ive been wanting to read it for ages but theres a number of common translations and i know translations can make or break a story; i dont want to start with the wrong one

[alchemistc]

"I am not packing your kitchen, Buck," Maddie says with a hard set to her jaw and a hand planted on her hip, and Evan sends her a warning look over his shoulder, elbow deep in packing tape and half-folded boxes. Tommy is clearly missing something.

"You found the ring cutter in there with the ladles too, huh?" Snipes Eddie from somewhere in the vicinity of the bathroom, and before Tommy can get a firm grasp on that Eddie's tipping his head back through the open doorway. "C'mon guys, seriously, you didn't pack this shit up before you forced us all to help you pack?" There's an unopened tube of lube in his hand.

"I'm getting things off of walls and that is all, Evan Buckley," comes Maddie's quick rejoinder, and Buck levels them both with a look.

"That could be for normal stuff! Sometimes rings need cutting! Sometimes you need to - lubricate other things!"

It is, of course, the moment Bobby wanders through the unlocked door.

Tommy's still familiar with the cadence of Hen and Howie, ribbing and mocking a form of endearment for them both, so he's not exactly shocked when Bobby just rolls with it and starts listing off the last fifteen calls they've needed it for. None of those things particularly improve the red rising up Evan's cheekbones, but Tommy catches the grin Bobby's hiding while he sets boxes of pizza up at the kitchen table, cleared of the latest seasonal decor Evan had dragged him through three different department stores to find, not that he could be bothered to care when the very existence of them was all it took to shift Maddie's opinion of him from tolerantly friendly to encouragingly approving.

("This loft was a minimalists wet dream before you were in the picture," she'd told him one evening, after she'd manipulated him into admitting he was terrified this didn't mean the same thing to Evan as it did to him. "He started nesting a month after my wedding, Tommy.")

And now they're here. Watching Evan pretend to be miffed by the teasing while he fights a roll of packing tape.

He's going to miss the upstairs shower, wide enough for two grown men to fit more than comfortably; and the balcony on cooler nights when he could tempt Evan out for a slow dance set to the late-evening traffic; the kitchen island at the perfect height to lift Evan onto and tilt his head up for an angled kiss.

He won't miss the open plan that makes it impossible to do much of anything with a snoring Eddie right below them, the tuba player two doors down who only seems to practice the moment Tommy's head meets the pillow at the end of any random days-long shift, the way the elevator always smells like tuna on Thursday afternoons.

There are things he won't have to miss, of course. Evan, on nights when they just can't make their schedules align well enough to justify the drive time. The extra fluffy towel set Evan had refused to reveal the origin of ("You'll buy your own and leave me, I know you're only with me for my towels."). The pictures plastered to the fridge that Tommy's spent the last few weeks plotting out space for on his own before deciding he'd need a new fridge just to fit them all. The plant he'd bought Evan to appease the grump, the first time he'd dragged him to the farmers market at the ass crack of dawn, lovingly named Herbert. The fancy adjustable bedside lamps Evan had bought the last time he'd caught Tommy squinting down his reading glasses at the book in his hands. Evan.

Christ, he wouldn't have to miss Evan anymore. They'd synched up their schedules more or less as well as they could, but Tommy's spent months now trying to ignore how quickly a sleepless night could turn restful with Evan in his bed - how fitful a night without him there had a habit of being.

Most of the loft is already packed. Evan's wardrobe has been dwindling for weeks now, a box at a time carted from the back of the Jeep up Tommy's drive, through the mud room, down the hall and straight to the closet that had never seen such a shock of color or variety of fabric. They'd sprung for a bigger mattress, once they'd gotten over the sticker shock and remembered how much they'd be saving by paying half a mortgage each with no rent to speak of, and other than the kitchen table most of Evan's other furniture was being donated.

All that really remained were the kitchen supplies Evan hadn't been willing to move until he handed over his keys, a few toiletries, a single drawer of clothes just in case he needed them. Pictures on the walls and stacks of books on the bookshelves - half a decade of life lived in this apartment and most of it was already half unboxed and slowly integrating into the fifteen years Tommy had put into his own solitary life.

Evan finishes taping boxes and makes a beeline for his itemized list, and Tommy has to pretend it's giving him as much grief as Evan's sister and best friend to see the clipboard in action. He's not entirely sure how well he sells it, when even Bobby's shooting him aggrieved looks only to grimace at whatever he finds in Tommy's expression.

And just like that, an hour passes and the pizza disappears; the boxes are loaded into the back of his truck; the kitchen table in Eddie's; and Maddie tugs her brother in for a hug, drags Tommy in for good measure too, kisses them both on the cheek as she leaves; Bobby tucks a wooden box filled with handwritten recipes on note cards into Evan's hand and Tommy pretends not to notice either of their teary eyes; Eddie hefts a six pack out of the otherwise empty fridge and promises to meet them at the house in forty-five.

There's still one picture stuck to the fridge - a candid from the first barbeque Athena and Bobby had hosted after their move, Tommy and Evan backlit by a setting sun, tucked up against each other leaned against a porch railing, and Tommy knuckles at it while Evan does a slow introspective spin to take in the wide expanse of windows and brick. He's still staring when Evan finishes and drifts towards him, hands tucking in at Tommy's waist, chin hooking over his shoulder.

"Is this one staying?"

Evan shakes his head, nose digging into the side of Tommy's neck. "Just wanted to keep it out so it could be the first one we put up."

He remembers the night. Karen had gotten him drunk and added him to the wives group chat. May Grant had stolen half his slice of cake right off his plate and dared him to protest. Jee had spent the entire night calling him Uncle Tommy and thrown a massive fit when she realized he wasn't going home with her to read a bedtime story. Christopher and Denny had spent half an hour trying to teach him how to play Fortnite and then been mystified when he trounced them in Mario Kart. He knows exactly why it's significant to him. "Why this one?" he asks, curving into the cradle of Evan's arms.

Evan's so much better with words than Tommy is, and Tommy's just grateful Evan takes his actions for the things he means with them. "That's the night I knew what our something was gonna be," Evan murmurs, and Tommy tips his chin back and angles his head to catch Evan's lips against his own.

[joeyfranchise]

got me thinkin’ nonsense

justin herbert x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content. 18+ only. oral (f. receiving), dumbification ;)

word count: 2.3k.

note: hello i am once again having brainrot about justin 😋 and so is maja because this is another idea we’ve talked about extensively. love youuuu @joeyburrrow 😮‍💨

to put it plainly - you were having a horrible day.

it started unexpectedly after you’d taken nearly an hour in the morning to curl your hair perfectly, only to be met with a downpour of rain outside that left it limp and wet.

when you got to the office the strap of your bag broke and it dropped off your arm, leaving the contents to skitter across the floor of the lobby. your coworker— and quite possibly the bane of your existence— katherine helped you pick up your things before scurrying off to her desk a little too cheerily.

you sat through meeting after boring meeting, listening to your bosses babble on and to katherine’s incessant interruptions, adding her two cents to everything they said.

as you left your last meeting your foot caught the door frame on the way out and you toppled over into the hall, falling right into your bosses back. your weight crashing into him sent him straight into the wall on the other side of the hallway and you began to apologize profusely.

you stood and extended your hand to help him, sheepishly gazing down at him. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he declined your hand, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants.

“be more careful,” he sneered, before walking briskly down the hall.

you headed back to your desk and gathered your things, beyond ready to get home and spend the evening underneath your duvet without any other care in the world, just waiting for justin to get home.

you grabbed your things and headed to the parking lot, and since your bag was broken you ended up just throwing all your belongings in the passenger seat before driving home, eager to strip your clothes and lie in bed.

unfortunately, your bad luck didn’t end when you left the office. you hit every red light on the way home and only narrowly avoided being rear-ended by some teenager who was too focused on texting, which left you feeling like you could rip your hair out.

finally though, you made it home. you didn’t bother to grab anything from your car to bring inside other than your keys and phone. you trudged up the steps as the weight of the day continued bearing down on you, but you were shocked when the door swung open before you could get your key anywhere near the lock.

you weren’t expecting justin to be home so soon.

he stood there with open arms, inviting you into his much larger frame for a much needed hug. you stepped forward and let him wrap you in his embrace, inhaling his scent as he squeezed you.

“welcome home!” he cheerfully greeted, and you looked up at him with a half-smile. justin immediately sensed your unease and ushered you into the house, leading you to the couch before helping you to sit back. he placed your phone and keys on the coffee table as you settled into the pillows and propped your head up. justin knelt on the floor to take off your shoes for you.

you weren’t sure why he always did that as soon as he knew you had a bad day, because you both hated feet and the idea of touching them or anything of that sort, but it was most likely just his way of trying to comfort you. he wanted you to see he was there for anything and everything you needed.

“tough day?” he questioned, sliding himself a bit closer to your frame. he sat on the floor and leaned over so his elbows rested on your thighs as he propped his head in his hands. “mhm,” you answered, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. you hadn’t noticed until now that he still had his hair pushed back with the thin headband he often wore at practice. you found it slightly suspicious… but you were unsure why.

“want me to help you feel better?” he asked softly, his big hands now smoothing over your legs. you opened your eyes and looked down at him, a mischievous glint twinkled in his eye.

“what idea do you have cooking up?” you ask him, curious to hear what he has to say.

“well,” he starts, sitting up straighter so he can lean over you properly, “practice was long and boring today, but i was thinking about you the whole time. i missed you a lot… and knowing you had a bad day, i think i know what might help…” he teases, and then presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

your lips follow his as he deepens the kiss, and you shudder as his hands slide underneath your shirt, his warm touch leaving goosebumps behind. he breaks away from the kiss to speak to you, but not before peppering gentle kisses to the corners of your mouth and your cheeks.

“here’s the plan,” he says, as his fingers begin working the button of your jeans, “you’re gonna tell me all about your bad day, and while you talk i’m gonna eat you out, sound good?”

your eyes widen at his forwardness. justin usually isn’t one to lay it out so plainly and you’re a bit taken aback by his suddenness. “….okay,” you agree, and justin laughs at your reluctance. “i told you i missed you today,” he smirks. you let him undo your pants and pull them down your legs along with your panties, tossing both to the side.

you stifle back a giggle as they wrap around a lamp you have standing in the corner, the force of justin’s throw leaving it wobbling.

you look down at him in amusement and he laughs too before quickly switching his mood, suddenly turning serious. “okay, start talking. and if you stop, i stop.”

his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you down the couch a little farther so that you’ll both be in a comfortable position as he moves back to his knees on the floor.

he leans into you and holds your legs open before blowing a cool stream of air onto your already wet core. his nose rubs against your clit softly before he licks a long, languid stripe up your center. when he makes no further move you remember you’re supposed to be talking, but you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to even form words… you still try anyway.

“i… i woke up super early to c-curl my hair, and… the rain made it fall immediately,” you whine, arching forward as he rolls his tongue lazily over your clit. he makes a sound against your core that you can only assume is sympathetic, and the vibration sends shockwaves through you. your fingers tangle through his hair as you hold him close to you, afraid to let this moment end so soon.

“and then… when i got to work my bag broke and… all m-my shit fell all over the - fuck - all over the lobby,” you manage to squeak out. he shakes his head from side to side as you talk before slowly pressing two fingers into your dripping center and curling them upward. a drawn out moan falls from your lips as he uses his hand and his mouth in tandem, pulling you close to the edge in such a short time.

his other hand smooths over the flesh of your leg before he draws it back and places a sharp smack against the meat of your thigh. you barely notice the stinging pain as your body lurches forward, your back arches, and you continue pressing your core to his eager tongue and lips.

he lifts his head to look at you and the sight of him almost has your eyes rolling back. his hair is messy from the grip you’ve had on it but the thin white headband stays in place, holding his hair away from his eyes. the bottom half of his face is coated with spit and your slick, his mischievous eyes find yours and he winks at you. “i didn’t tell you to stop talking, baby. keep telling me about your day, or i’ll stop, too.”

“fuck, okay… katherine was annoying me all day, she wouldn’t shut the fuck up in any of the meetings,” you tell him, and he looks up at you again to mutter a soft “fuck katherine,” before he’s diving into your folds again. you giggle at his words, he’s being unusually crude today.

his fingers are pumping in and out of you twice as fast now and you’re scrambling to gather your thoughts, but god you didn’t want him to stop. he hooks his fingers and presses them upward, hitting you in just the right spot as he continues sucking on your clit, bobbing his head back and forth.

it’s getting harder and harder to formulate your thoughts, you still have to tell him about running into your boss, but you can’t make the words come out. instead, all you manage to squeak out is a weak moan of his name as you tug at his hair again.

“justinnnnnn,” you whine, the pleasure now seeping through your body, you can feel it in your thighs, calves and toes. he laughs against you, and all you can think is what a cheeky fucker.

he looks up again at you, hair and eyes wild. “that can’t be all, baby,” he teases. his pupils are blown wide and you know he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. you shake your head in response and place your palms flat on the couch so you can use them to push your body forward, fucking yourself on his now still fingers.

“was that it? or am i just fucking you stupid?”

and there it was.

his admission that he missed you may have been true, but something happened on that field today that triggered this side of justin, one you rarely got to see. he was always ready and willing to take care of you, and he wasn’t being malicious at the moment, but something had to have happened today to make him talk to you with a bit of bite - not that you were complaining.

“keep talking,” he commanded, and although it wasn’t the angriest you’ve ever heard him, it was enough to make you listen. “i- i tripped on the - fuck - the fucking door frame and fell straight into my boss. and he wouldn’t even let m-me…” you hiccup, another whine falling from your lips as he curls his digits into your g-spot again.

“justin, please,” you beg, continuing to grind on his face and fingers. you lift your head to look down and him and you find him focused, eyes closed as he works on bringing you pleasure. for a moment you think you’re in the clear until his big hand brings down another harsh smack on your thigh. it takes everything in you to start talking again.

“he wouldn’t even let me help him up. and th-then all the lights on the way home were red and - jesus christ - some teenager almost rear-ended me. and that’s all justin, please,” you finally manage, the rasp of your voice even shocks you. you sound completely fucked out yet full of lust, and for some reason you like it. justin does too.

he continues working you closer and closer to the edge as your repeat his name like a mantra, followed by moans and curses and any other sound that claws its way from your throat. justin can feel you tightening around his fingers and he loves it, he loves knowing he can bring you to your peak so quickly like this.

he pulls away from your core one final time, looking you in the eyes as he speaks. “don’t you love it when you’re getting fucked so good you can only remember my name? you sound a little dumb, baby.”

his tongue is on you again in an instant and your brain feels like it’s being scrambled in your head. you’d admitted to justin one night during a drunken romp that you wanted him to be rougher with you, to sling you around sometimes, to call you names.

usually he was a gentle giant, and god, he always got you there. the sex was never boring, but this really took the cake. before you knew it you were cumming all over his fingers unabashedly, not caring whether the couch would be stained from your remnants or not. all that mattered in this moment was justin, which you knew was exactly what he wanted.

he helped you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of you, and without thinking, he wiped them off on the leg of his pants. his eyes met yours again and you could tell he was feeling nervous, he wanted to know how he did.

“you’ll have to give me three to five business days to recover from that one,” you giggle, your chest heaving as you catch your breath.

“i hoped that helped you some,” he said, leaning across your body and wrapping his arms around your torso. “it did, but what got into you?” you questioned, his boldness something you weren’t so used to seeing.

“got pissed off at practice, it was stupid. we can talk about it later,” he sighs, leaning his head against your neck. “i think i know a way i can get you to talk,” you tease, and both of you laugh. justin squeezes you into a hug before pulling off you and standing up, extending an arm to gesture toward the hall.

“sounds like a fine treat, m’lady,” he jokes, pretending to tip a hat to you. “but first, hit the showers!”

you giggle as you stand on gelatin legs and try to walk past him, only to be met with weak knees as he smacks your ass harshly. he scoops you up bridal style and rushes down the hall, both of you eager to get to the story of justin’s bad day.

photos and dividers are not mine, cred to owners.

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