#I need amazon for that ^^

[whumblr]

I've been more seriously considering publishing Home Is Where The Hurt Is lately. I'm in the very early brainstorming stages, so don't pin me on anything.

Some years too late but hey. I never really knew where to start and dismissed publishing a little because to me, it doesn't feel like a book or a novel. It's a series. A combination of short stories, tropes, strung together by a little red string of plot and characters.

But now I'm thinking, why not? Self publishing is easier than ever and it would be a very nice project for 2025 to set up.

I'm trying to get inspiration for a cover rn and looking for an editor (who doesn't automatically reject half of the book because it's just plain glorious violence ^^') but the cover is harder than I thought...

Don't mind me, I'm just thinking out loud here, airing some thoughts, and in the first stages of gauging interest. I know some people have already shared their interest (and I love those, like, 3 people dearly ^^) but I'd like to hear some more thoughts.

I'll keep you all updated where I am in the process and once I'm starting everything.

[heavenbarnes]

I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.

god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼

you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.

“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”

“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”

“i’ll do it”

you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.

turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.

so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.

hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.

fucking hell.

simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-

“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”

now how the fuck?

“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“

“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”

crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.

he was something else entirely.

“how d’you know how to do all this?”

“taught m’self, come hold this”

you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”

“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”

the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.

“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”

tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.

you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.

one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.

you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.

“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”

you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.

“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”

[snipdoodle]

My outfit 11/11/24

[angelofdumpsterfires]

joked about it earlier but oh my god Zerxus Ilerez as a “collector of antiquities” the tragedy that could be charged with, a fallen man of a fallen era collecting the remmnants that remain of *his* exandria before calamity found it, even a thousand years later, still holding on to fragments of world he left behind through hellfire

[ambassadorquark]

my favorite weirdly low tech sci fi thing is the PADD technology in star trek, where everyone has like 30 ipads on their desk at all times bc they seemingly each represent one singular email

[sophieseals]

Also I may be treading covered ground but firecracker is AMAZING pick me representation. Those drugs ARE killing her she has an enlarged heart and it will pop supe or not. She’s done all that to win the affection of a perfect representation of conservative governed patriarchy personified in homelander and he even after ALL THAT still hates her. Even when you fit every conformity, beauty standard, blame all the other women for men’s bad actions those men STILL DONT WANT YOU. And it is metaphorically and literally KILLING HER.

[vampiyahs]

i find it INCREDIBLY funny that my ref for this is just,, him being lame and fucked the hell up

[bohemianblasphemy]

billy eats it like a man starved.

he wants it all day in every way.

on your back, from the back, sitting on his face - he doesn’t give a fuck. as long as his face is buried in between your thighs, he is not stopping until you cum hard on his tongue (multiple times may i add).

[theabigailthorn]

Just wrapped on the new Chube lads

Took two days of filming, but it's in the can and headed to your eyeballs soon. Dead chuffed with this one: it's ambitious and creative and cool as hell

This isn't even the best outfit: there's more on Patreon https://www.patreon.com/posts/93358888?pr=true

ALSO - an old character from Season 2 of Philosophy Tube is going to be making a comeback!

[unpretty]

i'm this 🤏 close to taking out a loan to buy an incinerating toilet. i'm not going to. but i'm going to spend a lot of time with a lot of weird tabs open.

[exo-jenna]

need to feel his body

[randomalistic]

Wait you guys are actually buying Disney products I thought it was a joke

(READ TAGS FOR FULL CONTEXT Sorry it’s long dies

[whitehotwild]

took a peek at amazon music’s The Boys character playlists (really just Butcher’s and Hughie’s… womp womp)… ohhhh old man Butcher my beloved.

all i can imagine is being at Butcher’s apartment for one reason or another.

☆ maybe the team went out to a bar together, and as everyone turned in for the night, saying their goodbyes, you and butcher were the last ones there. For whatever reason, he refuses to send you off by yourself to your own apartment this late at night and tells you to just come over and spend the night at his, that it’s closer anyway.

you try to ignore the zip up your spine when he leads you into his apartment with a hand on the small of your back. you try to ignore the soft flush of your cheeks when he teases you about snooping while you look through his one (barely filled) bookcase.

“what? you scared I’m gonna find your fuzzy pink handcuffs?” you tease right back, squatting down to flip through the vinyl records he has sitting in a milk crate next to the bookcase.

butcher rolls his eyes with a smirk, “mine ain’t fuzzy… d’you even know what those things are?”

you don’t react, but you do store that in the folder labeled ‘Useful Butcher Information’ that lives in your brain. ignoring his teasing, you let out a soft huff of laughter when you see a record you’ve only seen at your grandparent's house and in the back of a shitty thrift shop uptown.

“exactly how old are you?” you ask, pulling it out and showing him the record in question: Roy Orbison Sings Lonely and Blue (1961).

butcher walks over and takes the record from your hand, switching it for his beer. he had asked you if you wanted one when you two walked through his door, you had declined before, but have taken to stealing sips of his. it’s probably the closest you’ll get to kissing him tonight.

“old enough to know this is real music… not that Taylor Swift shite you force me to listen to in the car.” he snarks, slipping the record out of the sleeve, setting it on his cheap turntable.

you stand back up straight with a scoff, “you can make fun of my ‘brat summer’, but Miss Swift is where I draw the line.” the beginning of the record starts to ring softly through the room…

‘Only the lonely… (dum-dum-dum-dumby-doo-wah)’

“oh… you can’t be serious,” you smile softly and he holds a hand up as if telling you to ‘wait for it’. “…so corny,” you mutter shaking your head, still with that same smile.

butcher takes the beer bottle out of your hand, taking a sip before setting it on one of the shelves, “nope… classic.”

he lets himself be a bit softer around you, even if only for a moment. it’s only when you two are alone, usually late at night, usually after a few drinks that he lets the walls drop… only just a bit.

like now, when he pulls you into the empty space of his living room, placing your hand, the one that isn’t wrapped in his, on his shoulder, his free hand goes to the small of your back.

“so now you wanna dance?” you ask with a bit of snark.

butcher lets out a soft huff of amusement as you two start swaying, “what you lot was doin’ at the bar wasn’t dancin’… you was flailing about.”

“hm… whatever. least we were having fun, i mean… even M.M. got up!”

“‘cause he’s a sucker for ‘Earth, Wind & Fire’.”

“well yeah… who isn’t?”

“me.”

you roll your eyes with a soft sigh, “suuure… stick in the mud.”

you’re both quiet after that, only the sound of old music coming through shitty speakers and gentle steps against his floor fill the room. he dances you through the whole a-side of the album, the hand on your back has snaked around your waist, your head rests against his shoulder, and he holds your intertwined hands closer to his chest.

you take as much of this as you can get from him, knowing these moments are fleeting. there are so many unspoken words between the two of you, you’re too stubborn to make a move, and well… butcher’s too… butcher. he thinks he’s much too undeserving of something as precious as you.

and maybe he’s right. maybe he doesn’t deserve you, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you, it doesn’t stop you wanting him. so for now… the soft, fleeting, moments are enough.

it’s always strange when those moments end, though. the way you can see his demeanor shift in an instant.

like now, the music stops and he looks away from you when you look up at him. you can see the way his face changes, like he’s snapping out of a trance or he’s caught himself doing something he knows shouldn’t.

butcher pulls away from you, wiping his hands on his pants as if the feeling of you lingering on his skin has to go. he turns to put the record away and turn off the turntable.

the silence lingers for a minute before he speaks up, “think we should turn in. you take my bed.”

you try to protest, “the couch-“

“don’t fight me on it.” the command isn’t harsh, it’s not mean, it’s only a bit stern, but he just wants you to listen to him.

he just wants to do something nice for you.

you nod with a quiet sigh and thank him with a soft smile. you both retire for the night and you both know you’ll be gone in the morning before he wakes up. you both know you won’t make any mention of it when you're both in the office tomorrow.

but you both know that for now, the fact that it happened at all is enough.

(divider by @/plutism)

[coffeenonsense]

shocked and appalled to learn there are people seriously insisting the fallout ghoul isn't attractive as if "sarcastic gunslinging cowboy with a southern drawl and tragic backstory" is not a tried and true heartthrob format

"He's radioactive and missing a nose" okay! He's the fastest draw in the irradiated west stacy! He'll tie you up and call you sweetheart what more do you want out of a man!!!

[princip1914]

That feeling when, after 33 years of Heavily Implied Situationship, a canon romance is established and then imploded in 3 minutes flat as a plot device to set up the final act of a trilogy for which there is as of yet no confirmed third part. 

[fangirlintheattic]

THE BESTIES | Harlan Coben's Shelter 1x08