#IM GONNA SEE THEM TOMORROW

[soobnny]

LIA BLONDE AND CHAERYEONG BLUE HAIR EVERYONE PLEASE ?!??????? PLEASE …

[hotshotsxyz]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I��m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

[iloveacronix]

Me when the children of the 2 MASTER blacksmiths I kidnapped with some random sword a decade ago start to gang up on me in my museum and then the red guy throws his sister 760 miles/h towards me after mocking my brother and I

This is literally how it went💀

[beetlethebug]

And if I wrote the pilot program all messily getting together during a chimeron house party, would y’all be into that?

[thedisablednaturalist]

Two people have come up to me and personally thanked me for wearing my Kieffyeh publically and supporting Palestine. One of them is an older coworker whose relatives escaped during the Nakba. It shows that even small acts can show the people around you that they're not alone and there's people on their side. Palestinians aren't just a concept, they aren't some far away people, they are real human beings with lives and families and many of them are closer than you may think.

[iremiari]

something something.... in a similar vein of thought as to how crystal's mind eyes are supposed to represent her "being watched" (it was stated in an interview somewhere), what would the baby doll demon spider represent for edwin?

it took me a good while to figure out but i think it's Societal Pressure and Bullying. which is A Lot Lamer than it sounds but also,, think about it!! (a bit of a long read)

it makes laughing noises. Specifically children's laughter. It is made up of MULTIPLE doll heads and hands. It's like if an angry mob of children was a spider. And let's not forget about its nature -- If Edwin makes the slightest noise or the slightest utterance or makes a move, it chases him. It chases him relentlessly and is always there to eat him alive.

obviously the spider is terrifying in ways that also don't relate to bullying, but still kind of relate to the society around edwin. one of them being that it's made of dolls. they're fake. they're plastic. they're superficial. people tend to be so superficial to keep up appearances and ostracize anyone that doesn't.

it's also a spider. a doll spider. in a dollhouse. edwin is trapped in its web (the dollhouse). but also, he would be trapped in society's social obstacles and mazes for him if he were alive simply because he is Different from them. his true self is not one that society welcomes, accepts, nor tolerates. and they would hunt them down and hurt him any chance they get.

this also makes for some really poetic metaphors about him and his interactions in hell

i think one that's really sweet is when edwin says "I can't escape it... I can't." and charles replies "Yeah well, I'm here now." LIKE OH MY GODDDDDDD LIKE!! like think abt it. think of the implications and how it relates to the metaphor.

charles is there to FREE him from being quiet. he is free to run and to scream and to escape the web that he's in. that's so. they're everything to me.

as for simon,, i cant really say what it WOULD mean like metaphorically... except for the part where simon asks "Do you think it has to be torture? Being the way we are?" and edwin's like "No. It does not. I'm going to get out of here, you should come with me." like edwin KNOWS its not a sin and he's trying to escape the society that rejects them

other than that though, i cant really think what that interaction would mean...

maybe im just wrong about the metaphor, maybe it's Not societal pressure. maybe it's not anything at all! maybe the curtains were just blue, and a giant spider made of doll heads is just a giant spider made of doll heads. who knows?

either way it is 1am where i am right now so if anyone sees this post and has any ideas, feel free to rb/comment, id love to see your take :D

(though: in a similar vein,,, charles died due to hypothermia and internal bleeding. hypothermia or the cold is usually associated with loneliness in most fiction - the way warmth is associated with company - and internal bleeding represents,.. well you can probably guess. leads you to wonder the kind of life charles lived.)

[defiledtomb]

4 other applicants have come in clutch for the apartment I'm hunting. If I'm still eligible I'll know tomorrow, but only to be called for a showing, if the others in the queue accept and have better conditions than me, I'll lose it. But my agent is still hopeful. Fingers crossed.

[sickfreaksirkay]

they should let humans do horizontal gene transfer i want to swap genes with my friends. prokaryotes get all the fun

[desire-mona]

seems like its going well then

[wetdyke]

fantasizing about being face down with my ass in the air and my wrists cuffed together behind my back, with my butch behind me groping my ass while I whine desperately. them spanking my ass and telling me to use my words, so I start begging for her cock, telling her how much i need it and how wet I am for her. so she runs a finger over my cunt, telling me she doesn't think I'm quite wet enough yet, asking what I want her to do to get me wetter.

I know exactly what I'd ask for. I'd beg for them spank me, both my ass and my pussy, telling them how wet I get when they're rough with me. she would laugh because she knows it's true, and then spank me until my ass is bright red and my cunt is sore and dripping.

"do you still want my cock?" I'd be so incoherent by then but I'd manage to get the word "yes" out over and over again, pushing my aching ass in the air. she would smack my ass one more time before lining her cock up with my dripping hole, rubbing it against me while I try desperately to push back against it

eventually she would decide that she had teased me enough, pushing all the way in at once as I moan and drop my head down against the mattress. they would grab the cuffs holding my wrists together with one hand, the other hand gripping my ass as they start fucking me as hard as they can.

I'd be gasping out the words "yes yes yes, just like that" over and over again, already close from having my cunt spanked mercilessly. when they tell me they're gonna cum I'd plead for them to cum inside me, to please fill me up, and they would, pumping their load into me with their cock as deep inside me as possible. I know that the feeling of their cum filling me up would be enough to make me cum as well, tightening around her cock as I cry out her name and she drops her body down on top of me, still fully inside me as she rocks her hips to guide me through my orgasm, telling me what a good slut i am for taking her so well as they press my trembling body into the mattress

we would just be getting started.

(minors dni. she/they pronouns for me and my butch.)

[the-chattering-tower]

I caved (logged back on) and I also caved (bought an orange cat that isn't even getting any of the everlux or ancient exclusive genes)

But like. look at them

[cashmere-caveman]

Joy Harjo, Perhaps the World Ends Here | House of the Dragon 1.02 The Rogue Prince | Hanif Abdurraqib, On Hunger | House of the Dragon 1.03 Second of His Name | Hanif Abdurraqib, Welcome To Heartbreak | Chris Abani, Poet of an Ordinary Heartbreak | House of the Dragon 1.01 The Heirs of the Dragon | House of the Dragon 1.08 The Lord of the Tides | Yaedi Ignatow, We Were Love

image descriptions in Alt

[sometimesanequine]

hey dont be sad, think about centaurs in armor ok?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

~

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need. 

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine. 

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer. 

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again. 

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny. 

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business. 

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves. 

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company. 

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five. 

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home. 

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back. 

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items. 

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat. 

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close. 

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow. 

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech. 

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move. 

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either. 

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

[pagesofkenna]

I love when a character, who is one of my favorite character archetypes, levels up and becomes a different one of my favorite character archetypes

[altruistic-meme]

i hate having executive dysfunction and decision paralysis cus i have shit i need to get done today but im staring at the list of things to do and going "idk where to start :( guess ill just Sit Here until i magically decide" and internally in like "NO YOU HAVE TO PICK SOMETHING. YOU WILL WASTE THE WHOLE DAY" but externally im just chilling.