#SO EMOTIONAL RN

[hercarisntyours]

ot5 itzy is back for real i am not okay I am crying.

[enigmaticcattic]

Me, upon finishing Cryptid Sightings:

@naffeclipse YOU DID THIS 🫵 /POS

[fizzy-watches-and-listens]

AHHHHHHHHH

LITERALLY FREAKING OUT RN

I AM GOING TO SEE THE PHANTOM MENACE TOMORROW

IM LITERALLY SO EXCITED

LITTLE NERD ME WOULD BE SO HAPPY RN

STAR WARS IN THE CINEMA, IM LITERALLY SO EXCITED

i could genuinely cry

i’m seeing duel of the fates in cinema

i’m gonna cry

[thrawns-babygirl]

You ever have that one tumblr moot who understandably deactivates their blog for whatever reason but sometimes you see some of your old interactions and you just like tear up because you miss them so much?

[alovesreading]

auntie ella and amelia 🥲

[hslllot]

i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry i love harry

[fisherfurbearer]

Hey! I hope you don't mind the message - I just wanted to say, your tags made me cry. I'm so happy that our makin silly lil creatures over here could mean something to you all these years later. You absolutely can do what you want, and make a living at it, and more people need to hear that. Everyone in our lives told us we couldn't - we were just too stubborn to listen. I sincerely thank you, I'm going to look at these tags anytime I feel discouraged, and I hope we can make you a monster one day. <3

OH MY GOODNESS!!!! I didn't see this originally and finally checked my inbox and saw this.

Now I'm feeling teary eyed ... I genuinely think it was artists like you both, Melissa Curphy (@missmonstermel), and Allison Theus (@crispyfishsticks) who showed me at a young age you CAN make awesome monsters and be wonderfully successful and HAPPY doing so.

I'm not joking at all when I say I found your DeviantArt over 10 years ago and it stuck with me ever since. I've kept up with Homemade Horrors since then on multiple platforms. It was always a dream of mine to have a custom monster made by you both, and now that I have an actual career position (transgender healthcare, which still doesn't feel real! That this is happening and it's Real!!) I may be able to afford that someday. ❤️

For reference this is the post and tags and if you like the looks of this gorgeous creature you should DEFINITELY give them a follow!!!!! Homemade Horrors are AMAZING and everything Worms and Bones make together is always so full of love and creativity.

[edengreeen]

That last episode was just….!!! wow!!!! cannot wait for szn 2

[beebundt]

thinking a little too much abt durge/orin sibling relationship rn. 🩸ft. my durge (briar, they/them)

[pendragora]

If anybody needs me, I'm in my corner ugly crying

Ange I was thinking about your latest Ettore drabble, maybe, canon Ettore would’ve turned out differently if he had met the right person. If he had met someone who is as depraved, desperate for some escape, maybe just as unknowingly craving that genuine human touch, he wouldn’t have hurt someone else, he would’ve had something warm to hold onto in that hellhole he lived.

Hopefully I don’t sound like I’m defending canon Ettore’s action, he is a scumbag. But maybe had two scumbags who are just as desperate to comfort each other through canal pleasure been left alone, they might have had something beautiful, something genuine blooming between them.

Im not joking when I said you’re singlehandedly making Ettore one of my favorite characters, Ewan played a scumbag, and a lot of Ettore fics hammered his predator side through and through, I like your approach to the character in fanon writing exploring the other possibility if he met someone and started connecting with them in the end. I would love to read the “I love you” drabble you teased if you have time and ofc feel like writing it one day.

Sorry this has taken me so long!

Warnings: Implied smut, mild violence, heavy angst, character death, mentions of grief, trauma. Word count: ~2k

Main series masterlist

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Ettore stares after Boyse’s retreating form, a feeling of unease settling into his gut. It’s not a feeling he is accustomed to and he hates it. This would end badly. The sudden spike in adrenaline directly opposes the post-sex haze he was expecting to bask in for a moment, and his jaw clenches in anger, simmering hot and unforgiving beneath his skin.

He considers going after Boyse, silencing her, making sure she doesn’t ruin the only good thing he has to look forward to on this miserable ship. But then he looks down at her, the woman he is currently buried inside of, her eyes large and reflecting the same anxiety he currently feels. His fury slowly dissipates as he is brought back into the moment; her warmth enveloping him, how soft she feels against his body.

“Shit.” She breathes out shakily, pushing him away and straightening up.

A hollowness expands within Ettore’s chest at the sudden loss of contact as he slips out of her. There is something about it that feels so final, it has him longing to press her back up against the wall and keep her there forever.

Slowly, he adjusts his clothing as she does the same to hers. His eyes move between her and the door, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” She murmurs, raking her hands through her hair and starting to pace. “That was so stupid of us.”

“You think she’ll say anything?” He asks, standing perfectly still in spite of the nervousness that rolls in his gut.

“I dunno.” She says with a shrug, chewing absentmindedly at her thumbnail. “Hard to tell.”

“We could stop her…”

She ceases her pacing and looks him in the eye, her tone serious. “You’ll do nothing, not after what you did to Monte. I’ll talk to Boyse. Just go back to work, okay?”

He nods. She has a point, but he hates the lack of control he has over the situation.

As she turns to leave the laundry room, he is struck once more by the overwhelming sensation of finality. He reaches desperately for her, pulling her to him and kissing her fiercely, as though he is trying to breathe the very air from her lungs. He feels her relax into it, moving her lips against his for a few seconds and his grip on her tightens.

She pulls away eventually, breathless and eyebrows raised in surprise. “You trying to get us caught again?”

“No, I just…” The words die in his throat, unable to articulate the fact that he wants nothing more than to live in this moment forever, and he shakes his head. “...doesn’t matter.”

She slips out of his grasp and walks off. He doesn’t turn away until she rounds the corner and is out of sight

He spends the rest of the day on edge. His ears prick up at every sound, his shoulders never fully pulling away from his neck. The ship doesn’t make for the most relaxing environment in the first place, but he’s feeling especially tense. The impending sense that something is going to happen refuses to leave him, but he’s unsure of what to expect.

Perhaps Monte will seek him out, intent on getting him back for his attack earlier? Maybe Dibs will formulate some sort of punishment, having been informed that he’s involved sexually with another member of the crew when it’s strictly forbidden?

When sleep mode is activated later that evening, he anticipates relief washing over him as there is seemingly no fallout to the events earlier that day, instead his mind continues to race.

He passes her in the hallway on the way back to his cell, and raises his eyebrows at her in question. She shakes her head and he sighs in frustration, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her around a corner.

“You’ve not sorted it?” He asks in a whisper.

She sighs. “I couldn’t. Haven’t been able to find Boyse most of the day and whenever I see her she’s not on her own. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Fuck.” He tuts, pulling back from her.

“I think it’s best if you don’t come to my bunk tonight.” She tells him. “Can’t risk it.”

He knows it’s for the best, that what she’s saying makes total sense and yet he can’t help the crushing disappointment that settles heavy and unyielding in his chest. When his mind won’t quiet there is nothing that soothes him more than to sink inside of her, and feel the way she shudders and falls apart against him. He needs that now more than ever, yet the riskiness of their current predicament will not allow it.

He quirks his lip, looking away from her and stalks back towards his cell.

Sleep does not come for Ettore that night; he lays flat on his back, eyes fixed on the door to the cell, waiting. For what, he is unsure, but his gut feeling tells him something is wrong and he is powerless to stop it. He is always the hunter, never the hunted, and yet the tables have turned and there is nothing he can do about it. His grip on the blankets beside him turns his knuckles white as he lays there, trapped and frustrated.

He has no idea how long he lays there for, just watching, but at some point the lights on board brighten, signaling the start of another day. He climbs from the bed, raising his arms above his head to lean on the doorframe as he peers out.

The first few members of the crew begin to exit their cells, sullen faced as they head towards the showers. Ettore looks at them impassively as they pass, not really seeing them. His gaze focuses, zeroing in when he sees a familiar head of long, dark hair heading in the opposite direction; Dibs. He suspects where she is headed, and waits a few moments before following.

Lurking around the corner, his suspicions are confirmed as she goes into her cell. He wishes he could hear what they are saying, it’s not common for Dibs to visit any of the crew in their sleeping quarters and seeing this makes his chest feel tight. There’s no way this isn’t related to them being caught together.

He flattens against the wall, as he sees Dibs leave, striding purposefully back towards her lab. He can’t see the expression on her face, but there’s something about the way she carries herself that leaves him longing to punch her. He flexes his fingers to suppress the urge and then heads into the cell that she’s just exited.

She’s pulling on her top when he enters and is clearly startled by the sight of him as her head appears through the neckhole.

“Christ! When did you appear there?” She asks, smoothing the material of the scrubs over her midriff.��

He ignores the questioning, jutting his jin towards the doorway. “What was all that about?”

She sighs, her gaze downcast. “Dibs says I missed my last check up. Wants to see me this morning.”

Bile rises in his throat, his eyes narrow. “You know that’s bullshit, right? Boyse has dropped us in it.”

She nods, looking up at him in resignation. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. But what choice do I have? Gotta take my punishment.”

“Don’t go!” He tells her angrily, his heart feeling as though it will thunder straight out of his chest. “You don’t have to go!”

“The longer I leave it, the worse it’ll be.” She shrugs. “I’ve lashed out at her before and all she did was up my sedatives. Can’t imagine this will be any worse.”

“But what if it is?!” He shouts, feeling his face grow hot as he surges forward to grab her by the upper arms. “What if she hurts you?”

“Then she hurts me.” She fires back, scowling. “You’ve hurt me before, it heals.”

He lets her go, stepping back, but never shifting his focus from her face. “I’m not letting you do this.”

She scoffs. “She’ll drug me up, I’ll come back, I’ll sleep it off. Why are you being so fucking weird about this?”

He speaks before he has time to think, the words leaving him in a burst of exasperation. “Because I love you!”

Freezing when he realises what he’s said, the air hangs heavy between them as she stares at him in shock. Why isn’t she saying anything?!

His fists clench as he feels rejection begin to pierce at him, eager to lash out, until her face softens and she speaks, barely a whisper.

“What did you just say?”

He exhales, not realising he’d been holding his breath and looks away from her. “I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you, alright?”

She cups his face, urging him downward so that she can rest her forehead against his. “I know. I know. I’ll be okay, promise.”

He relaxes in her embrace, eager to keep her with him. He leans in, pressing his lips to hers, disappointed when she pulls back with a playful smile.

“Let me owe you that one.” She says softly. “My guarantee to you that I’ll come back.”

He watches silently as she walks away, in the direction of the lab, dread gnawing at his insides.

Ettore is slamming closed the lid of a washer when Tchemy enters the laundry room. “We’ve been summoned.” He calls out to him.

“What d’you mean?” He asks, turning to face him.

“Dibs needs something put out of the airlock.” Tchemy says with a casual shrug. “It’s me and Mink on maintenance today, but she asked for you specifically. Must be heavy if Mink can’t help me.”

Ettore feels as though all the air has left room, his heart lurches painfully in his chest. He pushes past Tchemy, ignoring the other man’s joking pleas for him to slow down as he storms quickly towards the airlock.

Time draws to a standstill, the blood rushing in his ears when he sees the gurney and the sheet covering the figure that lays upon it. His knees feel like they’ll buckle beneath him, everything sounds far away.

“This is a body…” Tchemy says apprehensively.

Dibs nods solemnly, her expression grim as her mouth presses into a tight line. “She bled out during a routine procedure. Tragic, but unavoidable, these things happen. We have to dispose of her”

Ettore barely comprehends the exchange, his eyes drift downwards to the hand that’s hanging from beneath the sheet. Her hand. The same hand that had cupped his face earlier that day as she’d told him she owed him a kiss. A kiss he’d never get to have, because she’d been taken from him. She was his and they’d taken her away.

His hands tremble, his eyes sting painfully and he swallows thickly, he won’t give Dibs the satisfaction of a reaction. She’d taken enough from him already. He’d been right, why hadn’t he done more to stop her? He’d let her go and now she was being discarded like rubbish.

He bristles with anger as Tchemy claps him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his painful reverie. “Need your help, man.” He says.

Dibs had done this on purpose, she’d wanted him to know, to see, to punish him by having him help dispose of her. His heart shatters when he lifts her, how cold and void of her usual softness she is against him is too much to bear. His mood shifts, becoming darker, angrier, more predatory as they seal the airlock back up. His resolve hardens. Something inside of him has died alongside of her, and he wants to make them pay for what they’ve stolen from him. They’ll all feel every bit of the pain he’s enduring, he’ll make sure of it. And he’ll start with the person who ratted them out in the first place; Boyse.

Post script author's note: I have set the ending of this up for events that lead directly into canon, and we all know how that ends, so this is the end of the road for our star crossed lovers. I am currently accepting requests for Ettore, but no further requests which relate to this series. This instalment is its final part.

[myoclonus-aro]

I feel like the uwu soft boi-ification of transmascs make people sanitize us a lot, so they get squicked out when we actually transition medically. So this a positivity post specifically for the "gross" side effects of T, for the hairiness and the receding hairlines and the bottom growth and the male pattern baldness. They're hot and gender-affirming and the fact that HRT can make those achievable for is next to miraculous.

[1eos]

'tumblr is full of 14 year olds' wrong tumblr is full of 24 year olds who just don't do anything. and that's okay

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[hotshotsxyz]

where else but here, who else but us?

(8x06 coda) (buddie) (986 words)

Eddie wakes to the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing, and for the first time in maybe his entire life, he lets himself luxuriate in it. If he’d actually made it to bed last night, he might even go back to sleep.

He stands and stretches, then shivers a little bit as the cool morning air tickles his bare thighs. Eddie grins. He just—

He did something for himself, and the world didn’t end. He did something for himself, and not only did the world not end, it got a little bit bigger and a little bit brighter. He did something for himself and Buck showed up, and that joy he was feeling burned a little bit hotter.

Eddie scoops his phone up off the floor and finds that it’s completely out of juice. He huffs a soft laugh and plugs it in. It’s a silly thought, but—Eddie can’t remember the last time his phone died. How could it, when he’s been so damn determined to avoid anything that might bring him a little joy. Hell, he hasn’t even been letting himself text Buck unless Buck texts him first.

He pads down the hall and into his bedroom and pulls on the softest pair of sweats he owns. He changes into an old, threadbare t-shirt, leans against the wall and exhales.

In his kitchen, Buck is making breakfast. In Texas, Christopher is safe and probably still asleep, and that’s a whole lot more than Eddie’s been letting himself acknowledge.  Here in LA, Eddie is alive and healthy and, if the priest that was maybe hitting on him is to be believed, allowed to forgive himself. He’s not there yet, but he can let himself join Buck in the kitchen.

On his way, Eddie makes a pit stop in the living room. His phone, up to an impressive 8% battery, has already reconnected to the Bluetooth speaker that’s tucked behind one of the photos on the mantle. He queues up a playlist that he and Buck have been curating together for years. Soft music fills the room and Eddie kind of wants to cry.

This is what he’s been denying himself. Easy mornings and raucous evenings and his best friend filling all the empty spaces he’s always been too afraid to try to fill himself. Eddie walks into the kitchen and finds Buck already looking for him.

“Morning,” Buck says, a little rough, like it’s the first word he’s said today. It probably is.

“Hey,” Eddie replies. He steps into Buck’s space and pulls him into a hug, just because he wants to. He feels Buck exhale and melt into him. “You okay?” he asks softly.

Buck pulls back from Eddie’s embrace and bites his lip. “I, uh—honestly?”

Eddie nods.

“I don’t really know,” Buck admits. “I think I just—or, I thought—I don’t know.” He lets out a frustrated huff.  

Eddie slides his hand down Buck’s arm until his fingers are circling Buck’s wrist. “You don’t have to,” he offers.

Buck’s head tips to the side. “You seem different,” he observes quietly.

“I am, I think,” Eddie says.

“What does that mean?” Buck asks

Eddie considers for a moment. “I think I’m just… ready to let some things go,” he says. “Maybe let some new things in.”

Buck smiles, small but genuine. “That’s—I’m glad.”

“Me too.” It’s incredible, but Eddie’s pretty sure he actually means it.

Buck’s gaze slides away from Eddie and hits the floor. “I, um. Me and Tommy. We—or, he—he broke up with me,” he says.

Something clenches in Eddie’s chest. “Then he’s an idiot,” he says.

“Maybe,” Buck says with a kind of hopeless shrug.

“He is,” Eddie says with conviction. “You’re—“ Sunshine. Joy. Perfect. Everything. He lets go of Buck’s wrist and twists their fingers together. “You’re the best person I know,” he says. “If Tommy couldn’t see that, that’s on him.”

Buck blows a disbelieving breath out through his nose. “He said I was going to break his heart.”

“Getting his heart broken by you would be a privilege,” Eddie replies before he can think better of it.

Buck lets out a pained noise. “But I wouldn’t—or, I didn’t want—” He cuts himself off with a frown. He looks up through his lashes and Eddie and Eddie—

Oh, Eddie wants.

“Anyone who’s lucky enough to be loved by you, even for a second, should know it’d be worth it,” he says.

“Eds,” Buck breathes.

“I mean it,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “And if you don’t, I’ll believe it enough for both of us.”

Buck laughs wetly. “You make it hard for a guy to wallow in a breakup, you know that?”

Eddie grins. “Good.” He steps back, tugging Buck’s wrist as he goes. “Come here,” he says, and Buck follows easily.

The coffee and bacon are quickly cooling on the counter, but there’s music in the air and Buck’s in his arms and Eddie’s pretty sure he wants to kiss his best friend. And he thinks that might even be a good thing.

“Eddie, what?” Buck asks breathlessly as Eddie puts a hand on his waist and spins them both.

“We’re dancing,” Eddie says, smiling.

“O-okay,” Buck says, clumsily following his lead.

Eddie can’t help the laugh that bubbles from his chest. A small grin spreads across Buck’s face.

“Maybe I would have,” Buck murmurs quietly.

“What?” Eddie asks, spinning him again, just because he can.

“Broken his heart.”

Warmth spreads from Eddie’s chest to his fingertips. “Yeah?” he asks breathlessly.

Buck hums but doesn’t clarify further. Eddie, though, Eddie’s pretty sure he gets it.

He and Buck—well. It’s hard to imagine a world where they don’t choose each other, over and over and over again. It’s them. How could they ever end up anywhere but here?

Eddie wants. He tightens his grip on Buck and keeps dancing.

[vita-divata]

Together again

[birdy-babe]

I kinda really love these outfits but not just because they are adorable and Fizz looks great

It’s also because I feel like this is Fizz being himself. This outfit feels like something FIZZ wants to wear- not something he feels he NEEDS to wear in order to appeal to the image his fame gave him. He’s no longer dressing for the public, he’s not dressing for Mammon, or for a show. He’s himself!!! It’s the first time we’ve seen him in an outfit HE wants to be in!

I love him <3