#anyway everything he does has me going: oh no

[anniflamma]

OK FINE same anon with the fanfic ask XD Thank u for your amazing Epic animatics and your beloved and daniel animatics, just literally everything. I hope u enjoy this little snippet thing

Darius, he finds, is a man of perplexing mind, body, and spirit. The same man that coldly executes his traitors is the same man with tears in his eyes when Daniel emerges from the den, that hauls him into an embrace so crushing Daniel thinks he’ll go to God that day anyway.

Darius is not a fool, but he wields honesty and sincerity as sharp as a blade, never steps away from his convictions while also allowing room for redefinition. He tears down all of Daniel’s misgivings and years of disillusionment and pain, to make room for hope in a future.

Darius is not a perfect man. But to Daniel, he is a miracle.

One that gives him many headaches.

“How has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

And one that reminds him he is far, far too old for this.

The other facet of Darius that gives Daniel constant pause and constant rumination, is how he uses his emotions. He is neither detached from them nor a slave to them. He carries them openly, not worn as an armor or exposed as a weakness, but instead carried like a tool, honed finely to use for any conquest to the answers he seeks.

So yes, Daniel is aware that while Darius means this compliment, he is goading Daniel for a specific response.

Daniel clears his throat—ignores that Darius poorly hides a smile behind his hand—and fans out a roll of parchment to look over the records with the king.

“I know I say it often.” Darius tilts his head to rest it in his fist. “Yet you always deflect and hide away from it. I cannot tell if this is aversion or if no one has ever paid you due compliment for how radiant you are. If it’s the former, I shall stop. If it’s the latter, then I must continue to rectify this at all opportunities.”

Usually Daniel would deflect, though not when Darius calls him out on it. He’s long grown out of blushing. So he rubs at the tension between his brows with a sigh.

“Don’t make such flagrant assumptions with no evidence to back them, my king,” Daniel replies, with his most level advisory tone he can muster. “I was a young man once. You are not the first.”

He doesn’t know why he entertains this, but he does know it makes his heart race when Darius’s eyes light up with intrigue. Lord help him.

“Oh? Pray tell, who?”

Daniel rolls his eyes up and slowly counts to three. “Just about all the royal courts I’ve served when not trying to kill me.”

Darius’s brows predictably raise. He is quiet for a moment, schooling his reaction that Daniel wishes he would read. “I see.”

His mouth turns, a fine line of contemplation, and then asks, “Were there advances?

Of course there were. He wonders where this will go, if Darius will rear jealousy or pride over just how many have made a point to break Daniel down into his features and not his heart.

“Dare I answer that?”

Darius’s mouth tightens. “Was their reciprocity in those advances?”

No.

Daniel looks away. “I remember being summoned here for taxes, King Darius.”

Darius hums softly.

“I apologize for overstepping. I never intended to open old wounds.”

He is so disarming, his ability to reach past ever defense and seek Daniel exactly for what he is. His sheer strength and respect for another’s state of being will always rattle him to the core. Daniel looks back to him.

“It’s alright.”

Darius studies him, unwilling to break from their eye-contact and Daniel finds himself accidentally caught in the thousands of ruminations flickering in those warm eyes.

Darius sighs and straightens up. He leans across the table, palm fanning out of the parchment so that his fingertips brush the side of Daniel’s palm.

“As it stands,” Darius murmurs. “I did not know you as a young man. Has anyone ever told you how you shine now?”

Daniel’s cheeks heat before he can remind them he is not a teenager anymore.

“I don’t need flattery.”

“I’m not.” Darius leans down closer and Daniel shivers at the suddenness of their shared body heat. “I also have no intention of advances.”

Darius plucks the parchment from the desk, and steps away from his space. Like the pull of gravity Daniel nearly follows the impossible force of him as he retreats.

He peeks over the paperwork with a glint like a sheer devil. Daniel’s mouth twitches. He bites.

“These bones are not made for initiation anymore,” Daniel supplies, and Darius’s eyes squint up from behind the scroll with a clear grin.

“I find your tongue more than persuasive enough.”

Oh, the lions were easier to tame.

Omg!! This is amazing!! And the amount of flirting is insane!

"Oh, the lions were easier to tame." AAAAAHH!

More pliz I'm hungry...

Also... WHY ARE YOU ANON! I WANNA KNOW WHEN YOU POSTING THE FULL FIC! >:(

[justagalwhowrites]

Turkey Trouble - A TSATS Thanksgiving One Shot

You try to make Thanksgiving dinner for your newly adopted niece, Ellie, but need some help from Joel. A one shot set in the The Savage and the Sanctuary universe.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel Miller x Movie Star!Female Reader (from The Savage and the Sanctuary)

Length: 1.7k

CW: SFW; lil angst; modern no outbreak AU but Sarah is still dead (sorry Joel); NO SMUT; no use of Y/N; whole fic this is set in has mature themes and will have smut so minors DNI 18+ only

A/N: You can thank @diversemediums for this because she gave me the brain rot. This would be harder to read as a stand alone fic but it can be done with the understanding that Joel is reader's bodyguard and they have an antagonistic relationship. Reader has recently adopted her best friend's daughter, Ellie, after her friend's death. I'm not sure yet if this is canon or not but it could be? I haven't written to this time in the story yet but I THINK this is about where they'll be emotionally at Thanksgiving.

Joel hated Thanksgiving. 

He used to like it. Back when he was a father he liked it. He and Sarah would watch the parade, he’d make cinnamon rolls and the whole dinner spread, Tommy would bring over burnt mac and cheese and the three of them would go to Waffle House and to pick out a Christmas tree the next morning. 

Now, it was all a reminder of everything he’d lost, of just how little he had left to live for. 

So he took his time getting out of bed on Thanksgiving morning, not looking forward to spending the day missing something he could never have again, something that seemed even more painful when he was facing it with you and Ellie. 

But, eventually, his need for coffee forced him to move and he padded to the kitchen, not bothering to change out of the flannel pants and t-shirt he’d slept in. 

Ellie was on the couch with a mug of cocoa and a cinnamon roll, the parade on and she smirked at him. 

“Well don’t you look pretty in the morning,” she teased. 

“It’s Thanksgiving,” he said, trying to not take his foul mood out on the kid he’d become overly fond of in the last few months. “Not in the mood for a fashion show today.” 

“Oh so the jeans are a fashion show,” she said. “Got it.” 

He rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen. 

“Careful,” she called after him. “She’s in a mood.” 

“Great,” he muttered, pressing on, anyway. 

You were, indeed, in a mood, standing at your massive kitchen island with a turkey that was far too big for the number of people you were feeding, frowning at a recipe, your hands covered in butter. 

Joel snorted. 

“The hell are you doin’?” 

You looked up to find him, seemingly surprised to find him there.

“Making a turkey,” you said. “What does it look like?” 

“Looks like you’re making a mess,” he said, going around you for the mugs and pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“Well, cooking is messy,” you said, chin up defiantly. 

“Not that messy,” he said, smirking a little as he leaned back against the counter, crossing an arm over his chest while he drank his coffee. “Where’s Esmo.” 

“It’s Thanksgiving,” you said, incredulous. “I’m not about to ask her to work.” 

“Right,” he said, even though he definitely should have seen that coming when he thought about it. “You ever made a Thanksgiving dinner before?” 

“None of your business,” you said, going back to the turkey and trying to smear butter over it and failing. 

“It is if I’m stuck using this kitchen,” he said. “You’re gonna get salmonella everywhere.”

You glared at him. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you said. “And all I have to do is follow the recipe, so…” 

Joel shoved himself off the counter and looked over your shoulder, down at the recipe. It was not, as he’d expected, some bullshit celebrity cookbook but a simple, handwritten index card. 

He skimmed the instructions and realized that there were parts missing that were probably simple assumptions that you just didn’t know about. 

“Where’s this from?” He asked. 

“Anna,” you said. “Ellie’s mom. She’s hosted Thanksgiving and made a legitimately amazing turkey, Ellie loved it even as a little kid. I should have paid more attention last year but I was stupid and I didn’t and I just want Ellie to have a normal Thanksgiving and I have Anna’s recipe and I just need to figure it out…”

Joel’s chest tightened at that. You wanted Ellie to have a good Thanksgiving, a holiday that was like the ones she had before her mother died. She deserved that. And Joel understood why you’d be dead set on being the one to give it to her. 

He cleared his throat before he got too choked up, trying to remind himself of the distance he’d been struggling to maintain with you. 

“Well, you’re doing it wrong,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. 

You glared at him. 

“Unless you’re some Thanksgiving dinner expert…” 

“Made more than you have,” he said, almost smug. 

“Really,” you said brows raised, incredulous. He shrugged. “You’ve made a turkey.” 

“Sure,” he said. “Plenty. Not sure if you know this but most people don’t got private chefs at their beck and call…” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“Do you want my help or not?” He asked. 

“I wasn’t aware you were offering,” you said. 

“Well,” he shrugged. “I am.” 

You ground your teeth for moment before you sighed, literally throwing up your hands. 

“Fine,” you said. “Show me.” 

“Well,” he said, putting his cup down. “For starters…” 

He stuck his hand inside the cavity of the bird and found the neck, pulling it free and holding it up. 

“You gotta take this out.” 

You laughed and groaned. 

“Jesus,” you said. “Alright, Big Miller, show me how it’s done.” 

Joel had to give you credit, you’d done a better job than he’d expected once he took a closer look at the bird. He helped get the rest of dinner ready to go, giving you smaller tasks to do while he managed the turkey. With the two of you working together, you were both able to make it to the living room before the parade was done, sitting on either side of Ellie and watching the musical acts perform and the floats go by. 

Part of him hurt, sitting there with a girl who wasn’t his daughter doing something that had once felt sacred. He didn’t let himself hurt like that anymore, he tried to drown it or shove it down deep as best he could but sometimes he just couldn’t. He couldn’t now. 

But, for some reason, it didn’t bother him the same way this time. Hearing Ellie make a bad pun (“Did you know they took turkey off the menu for Thanksgiving? I suspect fowl play.”), watching you bob your head in time to a musical number, smelling the turkey once it had been in the oven for a bit, even the taste of the coffee with the cinnamon roll warmed something inside him. The pain of loss was still there but so was this strange sense that it didn’t need to consume all of him. That there could be moments worth living for, things that weren’t defined by the missing pieces - even if that piece felt like everything. 

You got the hang of basting relatively quickly and Joel showed you how to make the other Thanksgiving staples, things that he’d once made for his daughter that he was now making for the girl who had become yours. When Elise, Ellie’s grandmother, came over that afternoon, things had come together well. 

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” You asked Joel as you arranged the last of the dishes on the laden dining room table. “You don’t strike me as the chef type.” 

Joel looked at you for a moment and considered telling you the truth, at least for a second. Part of him wanted you to know this, know him. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, her name getting stuck in his throat. 

Instead he just shrugged, setting down a bowl of mashed potatoes. 

“Tommy ain’t much of a cook,” he said. “When our mom died, Thanksgiving didn’t make itself.” 

You cocked your head at him for a moment, like you were trying to decide if he was telling the truth, and then nodded slowly, like you were filing information away. 

“Well, thank you,” you said. “You really did save the day.” 

He shrugged again and took his place at the table with you, Ellie and Elise. 

When the meal was over and the dishes were done, he tried to keep to his room but instead found himself drawn away, something inside him tugging him toward the rest of the world. He went to the living room and found you on the couch, your legs tucked alongside yourself as you watched a movie. 

“Leftovers are in the fridge,” you said, barely glancing his way. 

He grunted and acted like he was walking toward the kitchen but, instead, stopped behind the couch, watching the movie, too. 

“What is this?” He asked eventually. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him and then back at the screen. 

“Love, Actually,” you said. “I used to watch it with Anna after Ellie was in bed on Thanksgiving. Have you seen it?” 

“Heard of it,” he said. “Ain’t seen it, though.” 

“It’s these individual stories about all these different kinds of love. I’m only a few minutes in if you want to watch,” you said, looking at him almost hopefully. He was taken aback, silent for a beat too long and you shook your head. “Never mind…” 

“No,” he said quickly. “Just… yeah, I can watch.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, brows raised. 

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Not like I’m going fuckin’ black Friday shopping in the morning.” 

He sat on the opposite end of the massive couch from you but, over time, drifted closer until the two of you were beside each other. Not touching but a sense of familiarity he wasn’t used to anymore hanging over you both. 

“So,” you said when the movie ended, tears clinging to your eyelashes. “What’d you think?” 

“Not bad,” he said. “Not sure it’s my thing but… not bad.” 

You smiled a little at that. 

“I should get to bed though,” he said. 

“Right,” you said, drying your eyes as he got up. “Hey, Joel?” 

“Hm.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “For everything you did today. I’d have fucked it all up without your help and Ellie deserves better and just… thank you.” 

“Sure,” Joel said. “It… it was nice. Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a while.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. 

He nodded, the truth of that clutching hard at his chest, just how much you and Ellie had come to mean to him in the months he’d been protecting you, this keen vulnerability settling in him at that thought. 

But he’d deal with that later. He wasn’t going to let it ruin shit now. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was.’

[fancyfeathers]

Happy thanksgiving, I hope it is going well🦃

Thank you for responding to my other ask about the flinching around the batfamily. But now another question has popped up in my head, what if Daughter reader just randomly picks one of the "siblings" to cling onto for dear life. But it backfires for the sibling because uh oh! Daughter Reader met their friend and suddenly boom she has a crush on them. Example Maybe: Tim? (I love Tim he's my favorite lol.) Daughter Reader sees his "subtleness" in obsession or whatever he likes to call it😒 Reader is chilling with Tim, then KON walks in and she never whipped her head around so fast. (Obviously Tim notices.) Now not only is Tim (or any other sibling of the batfamily you'd like to use) is dealing with a clingy reader, now they're dealing with said reader constantly asking them about their friend and occasionally stealing their phone to stare at pictures of said friend. (She's a little creepy she's been cooped up in a manor for like a decade by now give her a break she's trying her best.) OR! When the batsibling's friend comes back over reader gives them a drawing she made of them Thank you reading have a lovely Day/Night! - 🐈‍⬛Anon

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

Ooooo this is giving me ideas

I did make Daughter!Darling younger than Damian so Kon might be a bit too old for her (or young… he was created in a lab, but that’s a whole other can of worms)

But this gave me an ideas for two scenarios that stem from this idea…

Taking the crush aspect out of this cause of age differences with the idea with Kon, like Tim brings him around to the house for the first time while Daughter!Darling is home from school or one of the many outings that Dick takes her on of his choosing. Connor is definitely friendly to her, Tim has definitely mentioned his little sister to him, how amazing she is, how adorable, how perfect-

She looks terrified when Damian came around looking for her, mentioning something about notes in class…

Then the second time he comes around to visit, he catches a glimpse of Bruce locking her bedroom door with her inside… who does that?

Then when he came around to see Tim and he walked into the living room and he saw his friends taking photos of her just sitting and doing schoolwork and she clearly looks uncomfortable.

He finds some excuse to have Tim leave the room so he can ask her…

“Are you okay?”

“N-no…”

He felt horrible for her, but he did not have anymore time to ask questions before Tim returned. Kon is not capable of taking care of a child but he knows people who definitely can.

It’s when she is at school and out on the swings alone, Damian scared away her friends again today and…

“Hello, mind if I sit by you?”

There is a man with glasses and a visitor’s pass that comes to speak with her and she lets him, he introduces himself as Clark Kent and he lets her connect the dots. He lets her know that she can speak freely and he is here to help her and just everything spills out with tears. Clark would be horrified by what he hears, this little girl is in danger and no one had cared enough to help her and-

“Hang on tight.”

There is just a quick moment before he picks her up and they are in the air with him taking her somewhere he’ll know she’ll be safe for now anyway, with his family.

He’ll explain things to Lois and Jon, but he is sure they will understand… they have to…

The other way I could see this scenario going is…

With the idea of when she starts having a boyfriend who is a member of the Court of Owls (I mentioned him in these posts, link, link, link, link)

But Damian would have probably have made friends to help with his cover, and of course there is the most perfect boy in school, talented, smart, kind, head of the student council, on many sports teams. Then when Damian began attending that school after Talia left him with Bruce, he was the one who was we so adamant about making him feel welcome, but of course it was a fake friendship on both sides. The boy had no real interest in being Damian’s friend, but he also needs to keep up his appearance.

He could honestly care less about Damian until when they come into his first period class and introduce a new student, Damian’s little sister and when the teacher asks for volunteers to show her around the classroom, his hand shoots up. Damian is fine enough with his friend to help his sister, he won’t get close-

That is until the end of the day when he sees her walking down the steps of the school with that boy, laughing and chatting with each other. It is fine, he is a family with a good reputation-

Then when he is supposed to come over for a school project for Damian’s and his science class, he is talking to his sister after they are done working and are waiting for his driver.

Then there is the time when they just went on summer break and she comes into Damian’s room and asks for the address of the boy’s summer home because they promised to write to each other and she had his address on her phone but she got it taken away since she would only need it to call the family and she-

Damian wants to pull out his hair more and more every time she mentions this boy. This goes on for years and into high school and it all comes to a boiling point where Damian catches them making out in the stairwell.

Oh my god he wants to kill them, wants to rip out his heart, wants to bang his head into the concrete over and over again. He restrains himself and only threatens him with some bruising and harsh words.

But after that nothing is the same.

His sister distances herself from Damian, he cuts off his friend, but then true colors begin to show to Damian, only Damian.

Like when he opens his locker and finds it defaced, threats, insults, and strangely enough a feather, like a signature, but to whom does it belong to?

The boy puts on his perfect facade and acts like he actually cares about Damian and as it he had nothing to do with it, but his laughter when he is talking to his group of friends just seems too loud, the kisses he shares with his sister are almost smug, and the perfect smile and the praise he receives from his teachers and classmates leaves a sour taste in Damian’s mouth.

He wished he had asked his father to have his sister homeschool.

[tv-show-stuff]

The Hollow Men

Thomas Kinard, in the aftermath

We are the hollow men

We are the stuffed men

Leaning together

Headpiece filled with straw.

It's not until the next week that Tommy realizes he probably just walked away from the best thing that has ever happened to him.

After leaving Evan's place - Buck's place, he thinks to himself, the final nail in the coffin - he gets in his car and does not think about it. He drives home and he does not think about it. He unlocks his door, walks all the way to his bedroom without turning on a single light, and he does not think about it. He strips down to his boxers and his socks and collapses face first on the duvet, not bothering to turn down the bed, and he resolutely does not think about it.

He spends the next five days feeling numb, moving fitfully through the motions, without taking a single second to process the monumental, life-altering decision he made. He gets up in the morning when his alarm goes off, makes his bed with military precision, showers and shaves and styles his hair and brushes his teeth and puts on his cologne like normal. He eats his standard two meals a day, breakfast and dinner, without really tasting them, deliberately ignoring the voice in the back of his mind saying "It's important to enjoy what you're eating, Tommy. Yes I know I was on the keto diet, what does that have to do with anything?" He goes back to skipping lunch, since there is no longer anyone who will wake up early to make one for him when he goes to work, and he doesn't feel like putting in the effort for himself ("If I have it ready for you before you leave, then you have no excuse to skip it, now do you?").

It's not until the sixth day that he realizes "Oh. I ruined something good for me because I was scared ." He's sitting on his couch, ostensibly drinking a beer that he's only taken three sips out of, half-heartedly watching the Kings play the Oilers, when he comes to this realization. His second thought after that is "This is not the first time I've done this."

The thing about Evan is, he's so solid. He's already lived more of a life in three decades than some people do for their entire existence. And even after everything he's gone through, he still manages to hold on to a level of optimism and determination and hope in a way that seams indefatigable. He's brilliant. He's bright. He's young, and exuberant, and after Tommy kissed him and helped him slot into place a piece of himself he didn't even know he was missing, he settled quietly into someone who knows what he wants.

Tommy doesn't know what he wants. Some days, he feels like he doesn't even know who he is. When he looks inward, he sees little more than smoke and mirrors; a labyrinth he doesn't know how to navigate. He's always felt a little off-kilter, like he's walking on a tight-rope, unaware if there's a safety net underneath him if he falls. He's never bothered to look down; he doesn't want to know.

Shape without form, shade without color,

Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Evan told him he saw a future together. He admires Tommy. He thinks he's brave. Tommy is the furthest thing from brave. The bravest things he's ever done have all involved Evan: that world-shattering first kiss in his kitchen; walking away after that failed date; saying yes to his invitation to the wedding. He doesn't think he's got any bravery left in him.

One day, Evan is going to realize that Tommy is a coward. He's hollow, broken; he has no solid core, no inner structure. He doesn't want to be there when it happens.

Evan deserves better than a shell of a person. He's recovered from everything that life has thrown so far thrown at him; he'll recover from this too. He may be heartbroken now, but eventually that will heal. One day, he'll probably even be thankful.

Tommy won't ever recover from this. This will haunt him until the day he dies. It doesn't matter. He'd break his own heart a thousand times over; he's not sure he has much of one anyways.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Poem in italics by T.S. Eliot

This is my first fanfiction in a LONG time, and my first for this show, so please be nice! I'm not a great writer, but this has been haunting me and I needed to get it out of my system.

I'm barely in this fandom, but that man has me in a chokehold. A self-sabatoging character who thinks he doesn't deserve anything good?I can relate to that. Again, I'm really only a casual watcher, so if I've gotten any details wrong, please feel free to let me know (gently please!)

Also, I do have an ao3 account! I've never posted on it, I'm mostly only there to read, but if even 1 person likes this enough to want it put on there for some reason, let me know and I'd be happy to do so! I'm also thinking about adding more -possibly Buck's POV, maybe even a make-up. We will see if anyone even bothers to read this one lmao.

[royalthedemigod]

alright, so I was thinking about beetlebabes. and, how could anyone not ship it? so, everyone talks about how in love beetlejuice is. but, what about lydia? i mean, surely, she did fall in love with Richard (astrids dad) at one point (obviously). but, after that, rory was just a rebound. here are some examples:

Scene 1: She could've gone to any other ghost (cause, you know, she has that ability), but she doesn't. She goes to Beetlejuice. and, immediately shows him and asks what everything means. cause, he must know everything, right? he knew everything last time. everyone thinks this was an "only hope" thing, but I don't think it was. No, not with Lydia.

and, she's terrified of the other side. she wasn't terrified of him. she stayed close to him the whole time.

Scene 2: as soon as he tells her the directions, she asks "where are you going?!" now, this could mean anything, i suppose. but, he was supposed to be by her side the whole time. "where are you going? weren't you supposed to lead me to her? i thought you weren't leaving?" Until he says "I'm going to the little boys room". Obviously, she gets annoyed at this and just finds Astrid anyway. Cause, she can't make him go with her....but he should've.....

Scene 3: This is the part where Beetlejuice shoots Rory with truth serum. Now, I don't exactly know if she saw what he was doing to Rory or not. So, I'm leaving that out. But, notice how, instead of moving away from Beetlejuice, she moves closer to him. She could've moved closer to her mom, or daughter, but no. She chose to move towards Beetlejuice. After, when he gave her that boxing glove, she punches Rory ONLY. She still hasn't hurt Beetlejuice in any way.

The fact that nothing is making her stay near him. She willingly stays there behind him. Still hasn't done a single thing to him. (i mean, neither has Delia and Astrid. They're all willingly standing there with him.)

Scene 4: This is where Astrid gets ahold of the book, and decides to summon a sandworm. Now, the reason Astrid did this was to to distract everyone so they (Delia, Her, and Lydia) can leave. Lydia thinks way differently. When she notices what they're doing, she looks to Rory and Rory only. Like, "yeah, you're screwed!" She doesn't look at anyone else, not even Beetlejuice.

Last Scene: After Astrid tells him off, Lydia rejects him. But, the only reason she does is because of the "6,000 year age gap". Not "Oh, you did stuff to my family", not any other reason. Because of the age gap.

Once she says his name 3 times, he blows and leaves. She looks back at him like "oh, that look like it hurt". Cause she thinks it did. Obviously, it didn't, but she doesn't think that.

Final Thoughts: I think she's just scared of genuine love. I mean, the last time she had genuine love was with Richard. And, they barely lasted. She said so herself "Our marriage was over before the accident". And, because Rory clearly didn't give her shit, she got scared. Not of Beetlejuice, but of what Beetlejuice is showing her.

If there ever is a 3rd movie, I really hope they get married. It's very well deserved for these 2.

This is the song I was listening to when thinking about beetlebabes, btw. (it also reminds me of Aziracrow. but, thats just me!)

[posting-for-the-void]

So a lot of twins claim to have a sort of twintuition thing where they understand each other easily and often without words, and sometimes have high-level empathetic reactions to things that are happening to the other twin, even if they don’t know what’s happening to the other twin because they are in different locations at the time. There’s obviously not a lot of scientific evidence to back it up, but, eh. It’s a cool concept.

But what if, for the Skywalker twins, the force just ramped that up to 100.

Fic-ish thing below the cut.

Five-year-old Luke is learning the Tatooine slave language. After all, Aunt Beru used to be Beru Whitesun, before she married Uncle Owen, and his mom was Grandma Shmi, who used to be a Skywalker before she married Uncle Owen’s dad. Beru helps the recently-escaped hide in the secret compartment in the wall of their house more often than Owen does, but he claims it’s for plausible deniability, whatever that means. Leia, on Alderaan, begins mixing the harsh, clicking language with Basic subconsciously, but only when talking to herself in private. After all, she is a princess, and they must choose their words carefully in front of others.

Leia at age ten argues with her cousin about whether droids deserve respect, and across the galaxy, Luke is absolutely overcome with the need to thank every single droid he’s ever met for helping him with anything (he did this anyways before but for some reason he has to do it again Right Now).

Luke gets to drive a speeder by himself for the first time at 13 and Leia is practically begging for someone to take her out in a hovercar and go as fast as possible. And if that can’t happen she’s going to get the space equivalent of a Formula One racing sim, goddamnit.

Seventeen-year-old Junior Senator Leia’s heart skips a beat every time someone mentions Tatooine. She isn’t sure why. Obi-Wan lives there, yes, but something in her just knows that isn’t the real reason. Luke, meanwhile, yearns to see the galaxy, and often finds himself outside at night, staring at the sky. His eyes, for as long as he can remember, have always felt drawn towards a specific star. He asked Uncle Owen about it once when he was younger, and he gruffly explained that it was the Alderaan system. He feels like there’s something there, waiting for him. He’s not sure why.

And then they meet in person, and it’s “You’re a little short for a Stormtroope—Luke?”

“Leia?”

“Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, you idiot. You’re my twin brother. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks, Leia. You know, I had the weirdest dreams when I was ten about you and Old Ben.”

“Oh, yeah, that was actually real. I got kidnapped.”

“Cool.”

“Is it true you got nicknamed ‘Wormie’ by your friends?”

“…Yeah.”

And Han is so confused, but it’s fine, and within two hours their conversations are more like, “Hey, Leia, could you pass me the—“

“Yeah, do want the green one or the—“

“No, the blue one, probably. I need it to—“

“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense.”

And then Yoda tries to do the whole “Attached, you are,” routine, and Luke is like, “Well, duh. I’m only here so I can teach Leia everything I learn as soon as I get back. I’m just a pilot, which is a lot more replaceable than a princess, so we thought it would be best if I come learn from you instead of her.”

And meanwhile Leia is a lot stronger in the force now, and she meets Vader again and just goes, “Darth Dad, what the actual fuck,” under her breath in the Tatooine slave language, and the hint of Anakin that’s left absolutely freezes. Because Palpatine—Sideous—whatever, he said his kid was dead. He said that Padme died and the kid did too. He lied. And, when he meets Luke later, and he says the same Sithspitting thing, Anakin gets so thrown he accidentally cuts the kid’s hand off. Luke falls, and the shock of it in the force is so strong, and Anakin’s eyes flash blue in grief and love and hope, all at once, and all of the sudden he can think clearly for the first time in years. And his kids’—his kids!—bond in the force is so strong, how did he not notice it before?

And, anyways, I just feel like Skywalker Twintuition would be on a completely other and incomprehensible level.

[daemour]

Kadō [l.sm] 1/2

➵Title: Kadō ➵Pairings: Demeter! Dokyeom x Florist! Reader ➵Greek God: Demeter ➵Genre: Fluff, very light angst ➵Rating/Warnings: T for Teen, No Warnings ➵Word Count: 1333 ➵Summary: When the most notorious divorce lawyer in the city becomes a regular at your little flower shop, you're pretty sure it's a bad omen, for both your love life and your store. But with each passing moment, it looks like your flowers are doing better than ever…and perhaps your heart beats just a bit faster seeing Lee Seokmin.

-

This was a collab [The 13 Gods of Olympus] hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions <3 it may or may not have been a little close to cutting it at the deadline but I digress KJGSHDKJGHKJG

this is my first true svt piece and I'm honestly kinda proud although I wasn't able to put everything I wanted into it ^^ I hope u all enjoy anyway!

-

It’s the third time he has shown up in your flower shop. Lee Seokmin, the divorce lawyer in town. He’s never lost a custody case, or whatever it is he does. He’s both hated, and loved, by the population.

And he won’t stop coming into your flower shop.

At first, you paid it no mind. Perhaps it was his mother’s birthday. Maybe for a client going through a particularly tough battle. But he never bought anything. Just browsed quietly.

You wouldn’t say you were particularly superstitious, but that has to be bad luck, right? You check your watch. Five minutes before closing. He’s never come in this late before…and this means you have to politely tell him to get out.

“Ah, excuse me?” you call out, voice timid. Silence. He didn’t hear you. “Mr Lee?”

 Okay, now you can’t tell if he’s just ignoring you. You walk up next to him, hands hovering in the air awkwardly as you decide whether to tap his shoulder or not. “Excuse me?” you try again, and he finally snaps his attention to you, a bright smile on his face. He doesn’t look quite as cold as he does in all the news articles.

“Oh, apologies. I didn’t quite hear you. You must be the owner of this store.” He nods his head in acknowledgement.

You offer a small smile, lowering your hands. “I am. I just wanted to let you know that we’re closing in five minutes so…” you trail off, trying not to be rude. “I’m not trying to kick you out! Just wanted to let you know,” you repeat.

Mr Lee smiles even wider, reaching out to offer his hand. “Of course, I understand. I’ll be coming around more often, so I should introduce myself though. I’m Lee Seokmin, and you?”

Reaching out to shake his hand, you can’t help but take note of how warm it is. “LN YN. Nice to meet you properly, Mr Lee.” He shakes his head, eyes crinkling. “None of that. You can call me Seokmin. It’s nice to not be called so formally out of the court…I work in law.”

“I know,” you respond automatically before realising how that sounds. “Ah! Not that I stalk you or anything. I just…pay attention to the news and you tend to make headlines.”

Seokmin chuckles. “I understand. It’s hard to not know everyone in a smaller town, even if you never actually meet them. But there’s something about your flower shop….it’s very comforting. I like coming here after work, so I think you’ll probably be seeing more of me.”

I smile shyly. “I’ll have to look forward to that, Mr…Seokmin.”

–

Seokmin doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He can’t stop going to that little flower shop on the corner, loving how the owner’s eyes brighten as she sees him. He hasn’t taken notice of a human in centuries…no, millennia.

He’s kept his focus on his human career, wading through papers upon papers of messy moral relationships that remind him a little too much of Persephone. But you're like a breath of fresh air.

As time went on, mortals changed. The amount of flora and fauna decreased, but your shop felt like the Gaia he remembers.

He finds himself in there more and more these days. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees you humming to yourself as you arrange bouquets, and it’s on the days when you’re preparing wedding flowers and humming love songs that he lets his power leak out from the tips of his fingers and toes, and the flowers bloom just a bit brighter, for just a little longer.

It’s hard to keep his feelings subtle, not when you look at him with such gentleness in your eyes and always give him a flower before he leaves. He keeps them all in an unending state of bloom in his bathroom, and Persephone always teases him when she sees them. But he can’t keep himself away, allowing himself one other pleasure in his dreadfully boring life.

All he does is deal with case after case of depressing marriages, his heart breaking every moment he stays in the court. But your shop has given him a breath of fresh air, and he can feel life return to him when he sees your bright aura. His kin cannot fault him for that, and if they try, then he’ll just have to strip humans of their springs and summers again.

–

Glancing at the clock perched on your desk makes your heart race a little faster. You look forward to every visit Seokmin pays you, every shift feeling like a countdown. Right on cue, the bell rings and Seokmin walks into the store, breathing deeply as he takes in the flora. “Hello, YN,” he greets you warmly, voice softer than usual. “How was your day?”

Your eyes crinkle as you smile back, offering him a small nod. “Same as always. Not very busy today, which was nice for me to sit back and relax. How was the office?”

Seokmin shrugs, his eyes unfocusing as he remembers his long day. “It was…eventful. I had a case today and it didn’t go well. I can’t really go into detail.” He sighs through his nose, loosening his tie. Your eyes follow the movement as a pout pulls at your lips.

“Well, that’s not good,” I hum, cocking my head slightly. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

It’s not usually how his visits go, and you’re surprised at yourself for going off-script, but the stress in his eyes makes you want to help. And tea is the only way you can think of.

His gaze softens as he looks at you, some of the tension in his eyes melting away. “I’d love that, YN. Thank you.”

To hide your warm cheeks, you turn around quickly to head into your breakroom. “I hope you like chamomile, Seokmin. It’s the only kind I have left.” Seokmin nods happily, and you turn to raise an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

It takes him a moment, but as soon as it clicks, Seokmin scrambles after you, a wide smile on his face. The break room is small, but cozy, with plants lining the shelves and homemade mugs sitting in a line on the counter. You quickly put some water in the kettle, letting it do its work as you offer Seokmin a seat. “Sorry it’s not much,” you sigh, looking around. “I haven’t cleaned back here i a bit since it’s usually only me.”

Seokmin shakes his head, sitting on the stool offered to him with a quick flick of his coat. “No worries at all, YN. It’s very lovely here, very relaxing.” His stiff stance betrays him, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I can see that, with your ramrod-straight back,” you tease, and Seokmin quickly adjusts his posture. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite, and the plants don’t either.”

At your little joke, Seokmin finally lets his body ease as he lets out a loud laugh. “That’s good. I’m not sure what I’ll do if it turns out your plants are maneaters.” He leans forward on the table. “Now, as you’re treating me to a nice cup of tea, I must ask…how would you like to grab dessert with me sometime?” His voice grows soft towards the end. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous, not even when his daughter leaves for six months and the world turns cold and grey.

You stop your steps midway to the kettle, looking back at him with wide eyes. You don’t want to read too much into it, but the softness in Seokmin’s eyes tells you your hopes aren’t unfounded. “I…I think I’d like that, Seokmin.”

At your words, Seokmin can’t help the bright smile from growing on his face, and the plants in the other room bloom so bright as a warmth fills his heart. Perhaps there is some good with the mortals after all.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

arcane but i've never watched it

HELLO MAGGOTS ASMI HERE GOOD OMENS MASCOT LOCAL HIMBO BLAH BLAH I'M BEING HELD AT GUNPOINT BY KYOMI WHO IS STARING AT WITH A THREATENING TV REMOTE AS I TYPE THIS.

AS SOON AS I POST THIS, THEY WILL FORCE ME TO WATCH ARCANE. SEND HELP. I HAD TO BEG THEM FOR TIME TO WRITE THIS POST. ANYWAY, SO HERE GOES: EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT ARCANE, WITHOUT HAVING WATCHED IT, COZ EVERYONE IS BRAINROTTED WITH IT. WARNING FOR SPOILERS? IDK I DON'T KNOW MUCH ANYWAY.

There is an undercity and an... overcity. The undercity is a poison bubble Atlantis thing.

There is a government and there is oppression.

There is Vi and her sister Powderpuff. Their parents die. They cry.

They are separated... by government. Rebellion. And must find each other.

A game is involved. League of legends?

There is yaoi Jesus, otherwise known as Viktor, and he is a scientist.

He doesn't get funding, and rages around. Academia smh smh amirite.

The poison fumes make him lose his leg? Idk. Anyway, he's disabled, and one of the show writers... Christian... Christian Grey? Christian Grey. Said it made him asexual because he was angry they were shipping yaoi Jesus with Judas.

But EVERYONE else in the cast and crew and PR team ships them. Christian Grey is just an ableist homophobic asshole.

Oh yeah so yaoi Judas is a himbo who is cosmically intertwined in every lifetime with yaoi Jesus but they are 'bros.'

It's giving Aziracrow if they were written by the Supernatural/Sherlock writers.

Yaoi Jesus... I think he almost dies but doesn't? Kyomi was going to kill people if he died. Since they are not in jail, I assume he lived.

Vi has a girlfriend named Caitlyn and they are very angst and then they have sex and I thought one of them drowned because of an animatic Kyomi made but APPARENTELY THAT WAS FUCKING SYMBOLISM OF SOMETHING THEY ARE THE WORST SOURCE OF INFORMATION.

But someone does lose... a part of themself when they drown? Something?

There is a lot of angst. Every episode is pain. Everyone is a masochist in this fandom.

Christian Grey said the song of something was inspired by a fucking bollywood movie? Bajirao Mastani? IDK?

Christian Grey repressed Vi in the second season.

There is Jinx, who has the Marshmallow dude's thing on her trans flag coded nails.

There are Hex Cores and Hex Gates (and no Hex Girls, I misheard Kyomi, oops) and Runes that are not runes.

Rebellion rebellion Vi fights in rings and rebellion government.

The ending didn't happen, whatever it was. Nothing happened. Everything is happily ever after for Caitvi.

Yaoi Jesus is happiness. The end.

Kyomi says I know nothing. They are wrong. I am the only authority on everything ever :)

[sforzesco]

Cato the Younger, early days.

he is. a weird guy. I've always read about him in association to brutus, but ever since kicking it back a generation, I've been reading more about him and I gotta say: eerie! usually I'd go, oh necromancy. but this is more like sticking your tongue into the intercostal space of a thing that should've decayed a long time ago and wearing it's death mask. arguably worse, because doing that is like tapping open an entombed space that will never be closed.

eventually he'll look less like an old design I had for brutus (or. hghg. lucius junius brutus, because I realized after I finished this that this is a parallel composition to when I drew lucius, only no dead sons) as I draw him more, but. ehguh. had some thoughts! wanted to excise them from my mind so I can go to sleep!! what a guy!

Cato the Younger: Life and Death at the end of the Roman Republic, Fred K. Drogula

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

[blaithnne]

CBS Ghosts is my new guilty pleasure so take my new OCs. The Blanchet family were distant French cousins of the Woodstones who visited the house in the early 1900s, only for a violent house robbery to take the life of their youngest daughter, Mercedes, and her loyal self appointed guard dog, Horse. Only 8 years old, it takes some time for Mercedes to understand her fate, and for some time she’d be very distressed that her family seem to be ignoring her. On the bright side, the other ghosts are there to try and make things easier, though the misfit collective have a hard time caring for a child given their circumstances, and conflicting ideas on how best to raise a little girl.

Of all the ghosts, she is closest with Thorfinn. He has a soft spot for the little girl.

[beatcroc]

there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

[cerealmonster15]

i want jamiazu + idikei to go on a double date so badly i think the vibes would be So Very Turbulent

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[autisticaradiamegido]

thoughts on dave and aradia (<>)?

day 356

BIG fan tbh. in this house we love and respect timerails

truly yall read this log and tell me theyre not cute

[nanihirunkits]

hi.

[sukugo]

sukuna and gojo use binding vows for sex, taking things like orgasm denials or touch deprivation steps further, where the other is contractually bound to not be able to do certain things, like touch themselves or touch the other etc etc 

one such instance being a vow where gojo has a vibrator up his ass, but he can't touch himself or remove it, until sukuna specifically, pulls it out.  

he keeps the vibe in throughout the day, with sukuna controlling it remotely, even as they both go throughout their separate days.  

gojo goes to have his usual breakfast, and meets yuuji at the dining room, they greet and sit next to each other. yuuji is, as always, energetic and excited to see him 

they make conversation, until gojo gives a jolt and starts twitching and huffing. sukuna has turned the vibrator up all the way. yuuji worries and panics and asks him what's wrong. gojo gives a breathy laugh and reassures him. he motions low and tells yuuji about the vibrator inside him, through sudden jolts and soft whimpers.  

satoru complains about it, and yuuji advices to remove it or go and take care of himself.  

except gojo states that he can’t and yuuji puzzles.  

"it's... a pact—mmh!" 

"a pact???" yuuji's voice rises in volume, but he visibly calms, shoulders dropping into a fond sigh. "sensei, you really are..." that's all he can manage to say. reprimand is useless. gojo likes it, yuuji is well aware, he is enjoying every second of this, even as he complains.  

gojo gives a few odd jolts, undoubtedly an odd pattern of intensity from the vibe, yuuji can guess. sudden irregular ups and downs that are not taken well by the man.  

satoru clicks his tongue. "what is that guy doing?" he actually looks irritated for a moment—a look yuuji doesn’t get to see often—until it’s broken with a sigh and his pleased, calm demeanor returns, mimicking the soft waves of pleasure across his thighs. 

still, yuuji can see his hands crumpled at his sides, undoubtedly wishing to use them.  

that's when satoru perks flares up all of a sudden.  

"actually, yuuji,” he turns to look at him, grinning. “you can help me" he opens his legs and lifts the edges of his kimono, his dick peeking out the fabric. yuuji gulps at the sight. satoru motions to it, giving yuuji a wordless look. yuuji hesitates for a moment, but complies, taking his hand to the cock, and starts stroking. 

satoru crumbles under the touch, immediately breathing out his nose and muffling moans. he leans into yuuji, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, fingers clasped in yuuji's kimono, nuzzling into his hair and whining in his ear.  

satoru's sounds fluctuate in pitch and volume, making it known when his vibe's gotten stronger. yuuji keeps his pace and satoru spills in his hand. he twitches and sighs, soft breaths against yuuji's flushed ear. 

yuuji stares at the cum in his hand.  

"you can wipe it on me,” satoru tells him with a breath that's calmed much too fast. “my clothes are already soiled anyways". and yuuji feels bad for it, but he obeys nonetheless.  

satoru takes a hand to yuuji's chin and turns his face to him and gives him a kiss. short and sweet.  

"as a reward." he smiles at yuuji. the boy surprises but takes it happily, cheeks warm and eyes softened, albeit a bit timidly. a tinge of disappointment colors the edges of his face. 

"you want more?" satoru brings his face to yuuji's again. the vibrations have reached a slight plateau, so his voice is steadier.  

yuuji’s face widens a bit, but he nervously chuckles, pulling back from gojo's face. "no, it's alright," he lies. "i don't want sukuna to kill me" 

but satoru’s already pulling into him, breathing into his lips. "i won't let him <3"

"that's...actually reassuring......" yuuji’s eyes flutter shut as satoru's lips meet his again.  

and with that, they're kissing and slowly the vibrations and gojo’s twitching start again. satoru moves atop yuuji's lap to straddle him, and while they kiss, yuuji takes his hand between them and jerks him off again. satoru moans and gasps into his mouth, each jolt mirroring the pulses against his prostate.  

they separate for gojo to bury his face in yuuji's shoulders, arms hugging his neck. he humps into yuuji's hand until he comes against him again. 

he pants and huffs atop the boy, catching his breath. yuuji's gentle arms hold him, fingers rubbing slow circles at his back.  

satoru's breathing calms against yuuji’s neck. 

"yuuji, u're such a good boy."  

yuuji's heart and dick swell.