#hhh i really like this one

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[pia55tri]

“I just moved to my new Monaco apartment, but the removal company refused to carry my mattress upstairs, you live in my building, can you help me?”

thank you, anon, for sending this prompt in and all the other prompts 🫶

It’s just the universe laughing at him, really, that he’s gone and knocked on the neighbour’s door and it opens to Carlos Sainz Jr.’s perfect fucking face. In Monaco.

Oscar doesn’t even know why he’s so surprised. It was Lando who recommended this building to him, a little away from the more busy centre of the little-big city of Monaco. He said he needed it to be subtle, he needed a little bit of air. And Lando, who thrives in the bustle and chaos of the metro, immediately went, Ah! I know the place for you, mate. Check it out? Oscar did and it was perfect. And of course, he should have known that the place was exactly to his standards and needs because Lando heard about it from Carlos, who Lando has always liked saying is very similar to Oscar in all the ways that matter but that Oscar refuses to acknowledge.

“Oscar,” Carlos says with a pleasant inflection that mollifies the brief spike in Oscar’s heart rate. “What a happy surprise. Are you living here, now?”

And Oscar just looks at him with wide eyes. Oscar is still in his crumpled airport clothes and smelling of the sun and desperate for a nap. Carlos is — His hair is a mess about his head. His cheeks are covered with scruff darker than Oscar is used to seeing. And he’s shirtless, flushed lines all over his skin like he was just in bed. And. He looks like he smells like… fresh sheets or pancakes. Luxury cologne.

“Erm. Yeah. Yes. I just moved in today, actually. Actually, I knocked because,” he cringes, “because I needed someone’s help and you were the neighbour…” And, really! He should be grateful his neighbour just so happened to be someone who actually spoke the one language he could speak  and not one of the many languages he didn’t. “The moving company left my mattress downstairs and I was thinking of getting maintenance to help bring it up, but they’re all busy right now. I just. I need help.”

(Somewhere in the city, Lando Norris is laughing at him.)

Carlos patiently listens throughout his long, winding plea, and then, finally, nods, and says, “Sure. Let me just put a shirt on.”

“Right,” Oscar says.

Carlos doesn’t even bother closing his door, so Oscar stands there and tries not to watch his muscles moving as he tugs on a shirt that pulls tight around his unfortunately well-shaped biceps.

“Stairs?” he asks.

They’re not anywhere near the ground floor. So, of course, Oscar can’t turn down a challenge like that, and he says, dumbly, “Sure.”

That is how Oscar finds himself not staring at Carlos’s broad shoulders as they make their winding way down too many flights of stairs.

Oscar doesn’t even know what they talk about as they go. All he can think about is how warm it is in the stairwell, and how it makes Carlos’s lilting accent bounce around and settle into the folds of his brains. It must be the jetlag. Or the Monégasque heat. Or the insanity his sisters have always sworn he had.

When they get to the lobby, his mattress is exactly where the moving company had left it, laid mortifyingly out in the open. Thankfully, it is the middle of the day and no other residents are walking about the place to bear witness to this entire thing. Together, they haul the mattress to where it miraculously fits inside the elevator and pick up a rather lovely conversation that Oscar isn’t used to having outside a long plane-ride or at one of someone or other’s parties. What he is used to is ignoring how Carlos’s biceps bulge every time he moves or how his plush lips fall open when he breathes.

When they manoeuvre the mattress around his, actually rather sparse, furniture and onto his bedframe, Oscar is so relieved and grateful that he doesn’t even blush about his underwear lying on the floor of his room.

“Thank you,” he says, kicking a pair of Calvin Kleins behind himself. He tries for a smile. “Really appreciate it, mate.”

“It’s nothing,” Carlos shrugs.

“No, it’s really not,” he insists, leading them to the kitchen. “Actually, do you want to stay for lunch? It’s really the least I could do.”

Carlos raises his brow. “So polite?”

Oscar is about to say something smart when he abruptly shuts his mouth and spins back around from the empty fridge to face Carlos. “I. Erm.”

Carlos looks amused, eyes crinkling at the corners. Oscar can feel the heat radiating off himself.

Carlos laughs easily. “I’ll pick a place and you pay, okay?”

And Oscar nods, calm and cool. “Sure.” He can do that. It’s absolutely normal.

“I’ll drive.”

Oscar keeps nodding. “Erm. Cool.” Very cool. A ride in Carlos’s Ferrari. Nice. Cool. Chill.

But then, Carlos winks and says, “It’s a date.”

And Oscar, helpless, charmed, does not swoon. Instead, he says, “Yeah.”

[drrav3nb]

CHYNA & EDDIE GUERRERO RAW IS WAR (Sept 25, 2000)

Not that I hear you correctly, ese. But did you say Chyna's not worth it? I mean did you say my mami is not worth it?

(cred to FullWithDivas for the videos!)

[shreddeddescent]

just kinda wanted to draw out this part of my fic as a way of making myself draw something

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Dancing with the devil...

@estelletheskeleton forgot to add this here but here you go >:Dc

[averlym]

some very very quick costume shorthands!

[dravencroft]

Oh, there's just something about the sun / That seems so very, very boring / I will follow you down into the dark.

Marco, an Imbued hunter from the Society of Leopold, and his boyfriend-turned-vampire Antonio, from the Giovanni clan. How will their relationship survive their changed natures?

[piningpercussionist]

hi kim :3c fucking BOOPS you with my paws

What the- hey!

*Kim scrambles around for something in her desk drawers for a minute, before spinning back around.*

You better have braced yourself... Get booped right back, idiot!

(ooc)

She's booping you back with something similar to one of these:

[fallenrain40]

not to brag or anything but I adore my chicken smoothie profile right now like-

(also yes this is just me trying to let ppl on here know I play CS loll I realized I literally never mention it on here for some reason even tho I'm on there a lot. especially right now bc summer event started and im obsessed with the theme this year <3) lemme know if yall are on there i might wanna gift u smth if i have extras

[pickled-flowers]

Having very big thoughts about spirituality and humanity.. alas I am never articulate enough so I'm just gonna rent in the tags as always

[zaunite-electrical]

"We're extending our lighting services to Piltover now??? In the Sheriff's house?!?! No no.. This isn't right..."

"Well.. I did pledge to ogle this old man"

[furblurv]

some babies spotted out in the wild!! really wish i could have nabbed one!!

[faaun]

man the perpetual all nighters have been doing wonders for my skin

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

*Spins into your blog* "Helloooooooo"

@nightfire-is-silly (not reblogs; asks lol)

Moon: Hey. Ah...kinda bad timing, not gonna lie. But hey.

Sun: I'm sorry, we'll do introductions once we get stuff sorted out! We're not trying to be rude! But-

//Solar finally comes into view, carrying the fox in his sweatshirt.//

Sun: Solar! Where'd you find them? Was there a trap or anything nearby?

Solar: Not that I saw, but that doesn't mean anything. She's awful quick an' smart. She may've gotten out of it herself if she got caught in one.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

it's the 90's favorite trashbag!!!

fresh sans belongs to loverofpiggies

[blujayonthewing]

one stupid thing about my brain latching onto felix like a terrier in kill mode is that I live with my favorite and one of my best DMs and he is constantly cooking me the most hearty and scrumptious meals but I'm still, against my own will, sitting on the floor white-knuckle gripping the lad while we both starve to fucking death