#and before y'all start

[notherpuppet]

Someone asked if I was adding more to "Buckshot"

...and then I accidentally posted it before I was done answering LOL. Anyway, here was the answer:

I have some ideas that I just haven't fleshed out yet. But I really like that AU and I want to return to it.

As for the Buckshot specific "chapter"...I do have some 'deleted scenes' that I just didn't feel like drawing (laziness) but hmm maybe i'll get the motivation to sketch them out eventually.

Some deleted scenes:

Scene 1.5 [Lucifer looks at Alastor's wounds as he's changing his bandages and clothes. Alastor's covered in severe scars exhibiting many different kinds of injuries.] Lucifer: "So many scars...I wonder what he's been through..." [Lucifer glances at Alastor's face, which somehow still has a faint, but visible smile.] Lucifer (incredulous and annoyed): "Yet he always keeps that smile on his face..." CUT TO FLASHBACK MONTAGE: Lucifer, Alastor, and Charlie playing in the park, eating dinner altogether, and singing backup for Charlie while Alastor plays the piano. [Lucifer smiles softly and turns up the corners of Alastor's sleeping smile.] Charlie: "I thought Al needed to sleep!" >:-0 [Lucifer draws his hands back suddenly, embarrassed.] Lucifer: "Where did you--" [Charlie climbs onto Alastor's rest bed. She haphazardly reaches for Alastor's face.] Charlie: "My turn or it's not fair!" >:-D Lucifer: "Charlie, no!" --- Scene 4.5 (happens at the dinner party, in Lucifer's room, after Alastor bleeds through his shirt) [Lucifer quickly changed into a red tuxedo. Alastor is lagging, due to his pain and need to clean his wound with a soft cloth.] Lucifer: "Let me help you--" Alastor: "I can handle this." Lucifer: "Would you stop being so stubborn? You're drugged up, drunk, and moving slow as hell. You want to arouse more suspicion or do you wanna get this over with?" [Alastor rolls his eyes and rudely tosses the cloth at Lucifer's face. Lucifer's quick reflexes catch the cloth effortlessly.] Lucifer: "That's what I thought." [Lucifer begins to clean Al's wound. Alastor has a pained expression. He winces and grabs Lucifer's wrist forcefully.] Alastor: "You're being a brute." [Alastor guides Lucifer's hand gently and drops his hand once Lucifer adapts. Lucifer helps bandage Alastor back up and get dressed. They're now both in new tuxedos, sans bow ties. Before Lucifer can grab his bowtie, Alastor snatches it.] Alastor: "Allow me." Lucifer: "I can tie my own bow tie." Alastor: "Did you not say we were in a hurry? I think we both know it will go faster if I just tie it." [Lucifer rolls his eyes but resigns. Alastor ties the bowtie swiftly and perfectly.] Lucifer: "Ugh, how do you do this so easily? Aren't you high?" Alastor: "As a kite." [There is a beat and they both share a laugh. Suddenly they hear a distant voice yelling:] Adam (distant): "So much for a quickie!" Alastor: "We should go."

[snekky-arts]

"one does not simply shoot down a dragon-" "well that was a lie"

also this is a reminder that these illustrations are now available as prints in my Inprnt shop!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

[iocaisaint]

I don't know how to explain but one thing I'll always love about Nesta is her accomplishments and how she's seen in the eyes of canon vs how they genuinely don't register to her (like not in a humble way she genuinely just never thinks about)

like she's able to circumvent a high lords glamour through pure strength of will

she then treks on a 4 day round trip through wolf country in the dead of winter to go get her sister back, simply because it wasn't right she was taken when the family has only benefitted from that

this leads into ACOMAF where Feyre thinks about asking Rhysand if he can force Nesta's hand if she doesn't agree to host (daemati powers) and then questions if he could even do it to Nesta

We've got literal gods talking about some Nesta "you're the one the wind whispered about" in ACOWAR

her having the King off Hybern scared as a human simply because she pointed a finger at him

Then there's the king slaying obviously

Then at some point between ACOFAS & ACOSF she manages to deal with her terror of bathtubs through pure exposure therapy and no outside help

Then there's the weapons she made

Not being able to be contained by Rhys at the height of her power (+ him admitting that she scares)

Kelpie slaying, dread trove, pure death etc.

Then there's the mother imbuing her power into Nesta's friendship bracelets? This one was genuinely crazy

Her managing those 10,000 steps that were difficult for even the bat boys on nothing but strong thighs and spite!

This is one I hate but the IC just throwing her at any single man (Helion & Eris) in Pyrthian to get what they want and it working

Holding the pass for Gwyn & Em, murdering Briallyn, stopping time, making a deal with a soup pot, having a one on one with the mother and saving Nyx, Feyre and Rhys in one morning

Then HOFAS she's calling up the dread trove through universes and slaying the wyrm, getting Gwydion and going down as saviour of another universe

This entire moment>>>>>> "Rhys nodded without looking at the warrior, and focused all his fury on Nesta. To her credit, the female stood stiff-backed, chin high. Imperious and unbending. Ember couldn't help but admire her.

Rhysand’s violet-blue eyes guttered into pure darkness at the challenge in Nesta’s expression, her stance. A predator recognizing a worthy opponent—and unsheathing its talons. His hands curled at his sides, as if invisible claws were forming."

Then we get into Nesta's pov and her only desires are to go home to her man, hang out with Emerie & Gwyn, get her hands on a pegasus, read smutty books and eat chocolate cake 😭

I may not like how her story went but I'll always appreciate that this part of her stayed the same

[bixels]

vague-posting about this here cuz i don't feel comfortable yapping about my su takes on twitter, but after everything that's happened the most interesting thing about the su fandom to me is that so many are 100% there for applying the "everyone can change and deserves a second chance" message to everyone, even the diamonds. except for one ☝️ she doesn't count. cuz she's dead.

[dreamyluigi]

super sleepy brothers. the super snuggle bros. because i've been nothing but sleepy and cold lately

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit. 

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be. 

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone. 

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action. 

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real. 

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery. 

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting. 

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months. 

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family. 

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down. 

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared. 

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs. 

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of. 

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school. 

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are. 

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use). 

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is. 

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried. 

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience. 

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment. 

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant. 

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous. 

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine. 

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest. 

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect. 

Fuck. She is nervous. 

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon! 

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it. 

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best. 

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping. 

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading. 

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago. 

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died. 

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right? 

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts. 

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace? 

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot. 

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving. 

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet? 

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. 

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb. 

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. 

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do. 

Fucking finally. 

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN | 240726 • CHK CHK BOOM @ MUSIC BANK

[heymeowmao]

LYN: As an actor myself, the move I use the most is this- /holds his left shoulder./ I just don’t know what it is with this left chest. The arrow is always shot here. You may not have noticed it, but think back on the dramas you’ve watched- the ML is usually always shot on the left. Why there? First- it can make the ML bare-chested. If they get shot in the belly-button, then it’s difficult to film. How are you supposed to film there? You’ll pull their intestines out. Middle of the chest also doesn’t look good. It has to be above the heart but below the collarbone- there’s some cartilage and can be pierced through. Once the clothes are off you can show off the chest, and abs if you have them. After spraying some water, to make it seem like it hurts so much he’s sweating, you can let it run down the body- it serves to please the audience.

-2024.10.11 LYN Livestream

[byemambo]

"I was thinking I wanted it done on my thigh."

The Heart Killers' Closet | Episode 2

[rotten-flesh-n-bones]

My two all-time favourite freaks...

[quarklynx]

I finally finished drawing the Curse of Strahd intro that I've been working on to Yaelokre's "Harpy Hare"!!! Learn more about these characters here

[bluespiritshonour]

here's 18-19 year old aang sketches. been hearing aang is ugly discourse—no he ain't. he was just 12.

[love-laugh-daydreamarevolt]

Buck was aldredy a whore tf are people so pressed for?? Let my boy fuck it was never a problem when y'all thought he was straight how is it a problem now?? You guys realize you sound more biphobic than what you are claiming is biphobia right??

[neptune-scythe]

ok the thing is Tommy is not even a quarter as enthusiastic or excited about any interaction with Buck as he is with Eddie

he spends the entirety of the episode choosing to hang out with Eddie, inviting him to things, making plans with him. He's laughing and smiling the entire time they're together, and whether or not that interest is romantic or platonic it is like so freaking obvious that he's only interested in hanging out with Eddie

Like why does he even kiss buck??? why does he ask him out??? he has barely shown any interest at all the entire episode

what

does

he

WANT

and the whole letting buck set the pace thing just adds to that because he's just making Buck put all the work in basically

like ok yeah we've not seen much of them as a couple or what they get up to and what their dynamic is after they got together so there isn't actual proof of that

but that statement and what we have seen, which is Tommy spending a whole ass episode being so happy to be around Eddie and remarkably less interested in being around Buck, and the only active participation we've really seen him do in the relationship is kissing Buck and breaking up with him ... is kinda sus y'all

Is he just using Buck to be part of the 118 family??? Is he just dating him because he's there??? Is he a malicious jealous type and just trying to get close to Buck so he can take everything he has??? Is he just after the sex???

I SIMPLY DO NOT KNOW

i have no idea what that man wants, and that is either bad writing or very intentional writing and given the rest of the show it's more likely very intentional writing.

especially given the deleted scene

Hen and Karen have never once questioned anyone else's partners, and Hen is canonically never wrong about mistrusting someone soooooooo

Imma trust Hen and myself on this one

that man is simply hella sus

not like he wasn't sus from day fucking one though but I guess we're just supposed to have forgotten about that bit

but I'm not gonna

man was sus, is sus, and always will be sus

i have spoken

[number1villainstan]

hopefully i don't forget this in the morning but something something saionji in the StuCo arc being the caricature of an Evil Abusive Patriarchal Man that becomes the focus of people's hatred of the system/patriarchy, the type of villain you'd find in a simplistic surface-level feminist tale, and--crucially--the societal conception of "abuse" and "abuser" that serves to a) deflect conversation about the way societal systems enable abuse and warp it into only blaming individuals/thinking of "abusive" as a personality trait rather than of abuse as a choice and b) make it much, much harder to detect and recognize more insidious, smiling-faced forms of abuse, the kind of abuse that Touga and Akio enact, the kind that leaves psychological marks rather than physical ones

[specifically this is talking about his narrative role in the story as an antagonist and butt monkey, a Doylist approach if you will, rather than his standing within the world of Ohtori (the Watsonian approach)]

[youchangedmedestiel]