#hollz fuck

[theatomichero]

the daughter of dionysus brought up some pretty valid points. there was plenty to do around camp, but even then— plenty of the denizens often fell victim to boredom. "that's why we have you, no? you organize the best parties for us," he replied, bringing a couple cubes of cheese into his mouth to munch on. "maybe i'll binge on martha stewart episodes and host thanksgiving here. i do have the biggest cabin. it should fit everyone." doing so may require the help of hecate kids, but he'd talk to them about it later. there was a playful grin in response to holli's remarks about the show. "i'm not going to lie, i don't know what's going on half of the time but i still love watching these silly people fight."

if holli really wanted to talk about the elephant in the room, he was happy to oblige. charlie didn't have anything to hide, and he owed her his honesty at the very least. "huh? lincoln? no, i was talking about corey. he came back a few days ago." he shook his head, feeling bad for changing the topic and made an attempt to make things right.

"i'll confess, i didn't really ask if you two were open before we started messing around. i'm sorry, hollz." there was a solemn expression on his face after making the apology. "it was super fucking shitty of me, i know." extremely so, especially towards a good friend.

"oh okay, well you'll have to plan stuff, then! what else is there fun to do here? i'm lucky because i have alcohol, which will always be fun." holli would slip into party planning at the slightest provocation, any excuse really. "i don't know if anyone else likes this silly shit." holli jabbed a finger at the tv where they were dressed in pig cosumes running mud back and forth across the open air atrium in a warehouse in a parking lot. "izzy could still hit in that outfit, though. if she's a pig, i'm a pig."

her stomach did a slow flip at the obvious reaction. fuck. it was something he was definitely keeping back; and she thought he had an awareness that she had a pretty loose hold on silas, so it wasn't something simple. she lost faith in her approach and jumped on his topic instead, giving The Agenda a break, "oh wait, who's your ex? lincoln?"

[sneezefiction]

my turn

atsumu x reader

desc: you get a back massage from a gremlin your fiancé

a/n: @gahdam-beb hollz, thank you bunches for this cuteness! he absolutely would give good back massages. may or may not have gotten super carried away here – i meant for this to be like,, 200 words. not proofread & it’s all lowercase :,)

warnings: language, mentions marriage, mentions stabbing (i promise this entire fic is pure fluff though)

wc: 1.3k

—

so maybe the couch isn’t the best place to sprawl out on.

but you could hardly make it through the apartment door, much less all the way to your bedroom.

a leg dangles limply off the side of the worn-down sofa while the rest of your body merges with the cushion. the smell of pizza from last night’s takeout lingers on the soft material. an air conditioner unit whirs on and a chill streams across your skin, making your hairs stand on end.

unfortunately, all the throw blankets are either in the dryer or on your bed. and your fiancé? well, Atsumu is nowhere to be seen.

you sigh into a pillow.

it’s not every day you feel deprived of his presence. the blond is a lot to handle and he has a habit of bringing chaos with him wherever he goes, whether it’s a quick jaunt to the kitchen or across the country at a volleyball game.

but you can’t help but miss Atsumu, his chaos included. you’re quite endeared to him, actually.

i mean, there’s certainly a reason you’re wearing that silver engagement ring.

but right now it’s not just him that you’re missing. it’s those warm hands of his.

they tickle and prod and they’re not the softest things in the world... but they sure make for a back’s best friend. if you could wish for anything right now, it would be a back massage — for someone to rub and smooth away the tension of another long day.

but he’s not supposed to be back for another hour.

you shut your eyes, choosing to nap until he eventually walks through the door... but a tapping outside keeps your ears perked at attention.

the steps grow heavier in the corridor and, alongside that noise, your heart starts to thrumb louder too. you got off work early and your neighbors don’t typically come home til late... so you’re definitely not expecting anyone.

soon you realize the footsteps are just outside your door.

your heart jumps as the door clicks open and, from it, a rather refreshed-looking Atsumu emerges.

you thank the couch gods that it’s just him.

you would’ve rather been stabbed than defend yourself — you’re too tired to deal with that bullshit. but you’re glad that the universe hadn’t sealed your fate just yet.

“i’m home,” he calls, drawling out the words, “did ya miss me?”

you acknowledge him with a pitiful groan into the couch. it was an attempt at saying “yes” but even you aren’t sure of the unholy sound you just made.

“i don’t speak gremlin,” he chuckles.

you lift your head, shooting him a look.

“that’s unfortunate since you pretty much are one,” you say, dryly.

his jaw drops.

“i’m gonna tell ‘Samu you said that. we have the same face, y’know.”

okay, maybe you should be a little nicer if you want him to put his hands all over you... in a nonsexual way... at least for right now.

you don’t respond to him.

but that doesn’t stop him from talking.

“did somebody have a bad day?” his voice is high and he juts a lip out, taunting you.

you frown violently (if that’s at all possible). yes, he’s joking, but his face looks a fraction more slappable now.

“not particularly,” is your somewhat honest answer.

he shrugs off his jacket, the fabric tussling as he tosses it onto a wooden coat rack. there’s a clink of keys and the plop of a wallet on the countertop.

soon, those heavy steps you heard from outside are treading in your direction until he reaches the corner of the couch – right where your face is. without any hesitation, he sinks into a squat until you’re at eye-level with the giant.

you don’t move an inch, but even though you’re irritated, you kind of wanna kiss him.

“you’re home early,” you mumble, instead of grabbing his face and crashing your lips into his.

Atsumu tilts his head, “i wanted to surprise ya ‘cus i knew you’d be off early.”

he looks annoyingly attractive under the dingy living-room light. where are his dark circles? why are there no wrinkles on his forehead?

you, on the otherhand, probably look like a sloth on its last leg... arm? sloth appendages are confusing and you’d rather not think about that right now.

“is there anything i can do for ya?” he asks, softening at your grumpy expression.

yes.

“no.”

why are you making this difficult for yourself? it’s obvious you’re not doing too hot... and you really want that back massage – your muscles are practically screaming at you for relief.

he leans in closer, brushing his knuckles across your exposed cheek. they’re gentle on your skin.

“are ya sure?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper.

okay, sometimes he’s sweet. but only sometimes.

“can... you give me a massage?” you mumble through pouting lips.

a gentle smile forms on his lips, “yeah.”

he stands, long legs replacing the space where his face once was. Atsumu then shuffles to your side, but it takes him a moment to get situated.

the couch dips as he places a knee on either side of you, straddling your hips. Atsumu makes ass-to-ass contact. the most romantic of positions.

you squeal as he crushes you beneath him.

“oh, c’mon i’m not that heavy,” Atsumu snorts.

“says the guy who’s not actively being squashed into a couch.”

although you’d rather this than the burning ache under your skin.

he grumbles under his breath, but you choose to ignore it. suddenly, fingers are pressing deeply into your upper back and grazing your shoulder blades.

a quick gasp escapes your lips and you instantly regret it.

his deep chuckle shakes his body and, in turn, yours too. thankfully, his lips stay sealed.

you wish you could see that little smirk of his, as much as it bugs you, while he works his magic on your tight shoulders. there’s something so charming about that lopsided grin – it’s part of why you love him so much.

he adjusts again, accidentally kneeing you in the side.

“shit! be careful,” you jolt, warning him.

he smooths a hand down your hip and mutters out a genuine “sorry,” atoning in both word and deed.

in doing so, a metallic coolness brushes against an exposed patch of skin, making you shiver. you peek over your shoulder to see what it is.

it’s the ring on his finger...

and suddenly you can’t fuss at him anymore.

instead, warmth travels steadily throughout your body and his palms burn against your skin.

how can you be marrying him and still flush over the silliest things? in your defense, the ring is a relatively new thing in your relationship. it throws you for a loop anytime you catch sight of it.

Atsumu kneads firmly into the tissues, loosing stubborn knots and waking up your tired skin. his hands are large and stable; like a potter to unshaped clay, the digits mould and shape and indent.

slowly, but surely, your body relaxes and your mood lifts. a soft, virtually undetectable smile is on your lips.

Atsumu could be hellish and rude and a brat about the oddest things. he’s pretty gross and always tries to hug you when he’s dripping sweat. you’re also certain, positive, without a shadow of a doubt sure that he’s the more disagreeable twin.

but you’re probably the only person who can put up with him.

and he, you.

it’s a good thing you found each other... and even better that you can both give great back massages. it’s likely that’s what’s preserving your relationship.

hopefully, that same tactic works in marriage too.

you hum to yourself and your eyes, already drooping, finally close. Atsumu softens his touch, tracing the curves and contours of your body, lulling you into a hazy state.

Atsumu, rough and tumble as he is, could be gentle when he wanted to be — a side of him that easily made you see stars and super novas where only golden eyes and blond strands exist.

at some point, you think you feel a ghost of a breath against your skin.

maybe even a pair of lips pressing to your neck? you’re a little too out of it to tell.

but as soon as you find yourself drifting off, his hands peel away from you. it’s like you just lost a piece of yourself because you’re desperately searching for that missing warmth.

you whine in protest, turning to face the cruel man. after such a long fucking week, he chose to stop. and you were almost asleep too.

but that bastard.

that disgustingly adorable bastard.

he’s smiling as wide and bright as the milky way. there’s not even a hint of guilt.

“my turn,” he directs through a waggish grin.

alright, he’s slappable again.

—

[lordvoiseymort2018]

Hollz - “we are fuck buddies but without the fuck.”

Dave - “we’re fuckless buddies.”

Dave n Hollz trying to work out why people think our friendship is unsettling to them.

[lysslxric-blog]

(lily collins, she/her, 22) - have you seen alyssa “lulu” loric, the law student around oxford yet? I hear they can be machiavellian and two-faced, but those who know them insist that they are discerning and alluring. rumour has it that she is part of a gang along with her twin sister, Dana, and older brother, Reid, is it true? only time will tell. (hollie, 17, AEDT, she/her)

hiya so im hollie/hollz and im practically hype 24/7 and basically nothing like my dark sunshine baby alyssa (tho i wish i was cause shes kinda badass) anyway below is just a lil somethin’ somethin’ i have on her hopefully I’ll get a full bio up and my actual page fixed up anyway here it is sorry for the mesS:

goes by alyssa unless you know her do NOT disrespect her by calling her lyss/lulu unless you’re her BFF or some shit because she will literally destroy your soul i shit you not

so, when she was 9 years old her parents were held at gunpoint and killed in a gas station just outside new york as part of initiation killing (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically what gang members have to do to be initiated). Alyssa, her twin sister (Dana) and older brother (Reid) were all sitting in the car waiting for their parents when it happened. Lyss was the only one of the three who turned around to see their parents being shot, dragged outside and hacked to pieces. Alyssa was the one who told her siblings to duck under the windows of the car and lock the doors - the beginning of think quick and act quicker attitude. On some whim of luck, they all survived and called the police. Lest it be said that night drew the three siblings closer than they had ever been before

after that, despite the affluence of their high society parents, the siblings were inducted into the foster care system. from there, it was years of turbulent living, domestic violence, running from foster homes and stealing to survive that solidified the bond between the siblings. 

it was at the tender age of 15, alyssa and her siblings ran into the mobster who would become their sole benefactor. he housed them, feed them, treated them well and for the first time since her childhood, alyssa felt somewhat safe.

of course, they embraced the gang life wholeheartedly, but none more than lyss who fell in love with the rush of adrenaline that came along with committing crimes 

using their gang connections to their advantages, the three siblings make a pact to avenge their parents murder and so when they’re not off doing jobs for the gang they’re a part of (which didn’t require initiation killings, if you were wondering) the three of them operate their own underground gang ‘the loric clan’ 

Alyssa is the toughest mentally of the three, the fastest thinker and often follows her instinct when in risky situations which put her in a good place in the gang

Other than that, she is shockingly intelligent, but she keeps much of it hidden out of respect for her brainiac sister, Dana, and because she knows it’s an unnecessary asset for her to have as the wild card of the gang. 

She has some wild fucking PTSD because of her parents death, the horrific things she was subject to in the foster care system but she’s hiding that on the down low because she sure as hell aint about to share her personal problems

In her spare time she likes to party, drink, fuck etc etc and She’s honestly just out for a wild good time 10/10

Is like semi-sweet semi-sour depending on what mood she’s in, what your character is like and what sort of agenda she has at that point in time

Doesn’t take kindly to pure souls or judgemental people

If you do her wrong you will literally be dead no joke she will fucking kill you

She likes people she can relate to and people she thinks she can keep a safe emotional distance from because shes got a fucking SECRET man you can’t just be giving that shit away

As for school, what school? Fuck that she’s literally ALWAYS late, ALWAYS disorganised but damn if she can’t spit some fire bullshit on the stand I just don’t know what’s going on (common calling in the lecture hall: “ms loric, ive never met anyone who can reply with such a long string of legal nonsense in one standing. your point is completely invalid and irrelevant, but I’ll give you the case since you said it with such conviction”)

Also she is literally loyal as FUCK

Also watch your man (or your lady cause she’ll fuck anyone) she coming for you

ALSO lulu totally knew jennie because she was a law student but she didn’t fuck with that bro, anyway the night of the party she was slightly tipsy trying to scope out the rich kids for her gang to see if any of them were people she’ll have to desTROY in the near future

[limetimo]

f u c k 

Before the computing era, ILM was the master of oil matte painting, making audiences believe that some of the sets in the original Star Wars and Indiana Jones trilogy were real when they weren’t. They were the work of geniuses like Chris Evans, Michael Pangrazio, Frank Ordaz, Harrison Ellenshaw and Ralph McQuarrie ! Forever thank you, to their handmade art and the work of their colleagues, that made us dream of impossible worlds and fantastic places across Earth and the Universe.

There are more background paintings on this article, featuring comments by the masters/artists themselves ! 

Some of the following pieces were made by other artists 2:

[higherthanishouldve-blog]

I think "Slim Shady" alludes to a SlimJim that's expiration date might be questionable.

Hollz (9/4/17)

Contemplating what the fuck is a "Slim Shady"