#i’m writing this for sure

[specific-dreamer]

and when i write a fic where ponyboy and johnny don’t go to dally after killing bob

johnnys tryna pull pony’s unresponsive self away from bob but ponyboy is wet and cold and scared and probably .3 seconds away from crying and all he knows is darry

darry can make this all go away

darry might be mad again when he sees pony wet at 230am but once he explains maybe he won’t be as mad. if pony’s lucky (he usually isn’t) maybe darry won’t be too angry at him for running out the house

darry will know what to do with the blade. he’ll know if they ought to bury it somewhere or just clean it real good. and if he can’t, well darry had always been real smart he’ll know how to get them out of town

i just

idk man there’s something about a soaking wet ponyboy on the verge of tears (because jesus mary christmas somebody just tried to kill him how is he alive)

and he’s never actually seen a dead body before at least not one that he knows darry made sure him and soda never saw they’re parents mangled bodies, but bob is right there. blood leaking out of him staining the grass red like in that wonderland book he read a while ago.

bob is right there and if pony doesn’t focus, if he quits using his head, he can almost pretend bob is just sleeping, albeit in a weird position

and (for a split second) pony almost wishes it was him instead of bob. he almost wishes bob did succeed in killing him. because pony was unconscious and he was so close to seeing his mama and daddy again. he was so close and he accepted it, drowning wasn’t exactly how he wanted to go out but if he got to see his mama again then oh well. his eyes was closed one moment and the next he’s coughing up water and seeing johnny with a bloody knife

and ponyboy is soaking wet, somebody tried to kill him, he feels like he’s gonna throw up or pass out again, and all he knows is he wants to run to his big brother. he wants him to hold him and tell pony that it’s gonna be okay and that darry will take care of everything

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

My favorite thing about Annabeth is her wardrobe.

Cause like, Rick simplifies her clothes in a way a man would, and you can tell.

Cause in EVERY book, from The Lightning Thief to Chalice, she’s in the goddamn CHB shirt. With like some shorts or cargo pants. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’s made improvements over the years, giving her some other clothes. But he’ll always come back to old faithful.

Like, he most definitely did it on accident, but he made her so Adam Sandler and I love it

[ashamaxxing]

mom come pick me up they’re defending the divine right of kings on asoiaf twitter again

[thejeangreysummers]

boxer au simon “ghost” riley

⁃ everyone is exiting a kickboxing class you show up doe eyed with your little matching set and a bag the same color. simon immediately crosses the gym before soap or gaz get a chance to.

⁃ “i think i have something you’ll like.” simon offers hesitantly, if any other tall masked stranger approached you like that you’d leave for the sake of self preservation. but he’s so hesitant in the way he offers looking above your head and not making direct eye contact. his shoulders are drawn together like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

⁃ he ducks behind the desk and pulls out some Everlast hand wraps in the same color as your clothes.

“your favorite color.” he says jokingly

“how’d you know?” you laugh and for the first time he looks you in the eye and something shifts in your chest.

“you’ve got good taste.” he quips

he’s extends his hand in front of yours and you’re so dazed, you just hold his hand. simon is already tipsy of your laugh he considers kissing it. he begins wrapping your hand and the realization makes you flush with embarrassment.

⁃ until he starts talking… he’s explaining how the wraps work and which gloves he recommends and your initial reaction shifts into annoyance. you want to fuck with him just a little bit, because who is he to explain anything to you? he probably doesn’t even work here and you’ve been kickboxing for the last two years.

the stress relief it gave after your last break up worked wonders.

⁃ “do you want to practice with me love?” he offers after he lingers on your wrist

you concede and slip under the bar of the ring. his eyes tell you everything. eager to be close to you he explains a hook and a jab, of course you nod and smile feigning ignorance as he tells you how he’ll explain the kicking afterward. you’re feeling a little triumphant when the false jab distracts him as you sweep him, he falls and makes a jagged hurt noise.

⁃ your playfulness turns to panic

“are you okay? i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to actually hurt you. i kind of expected you to grab my leg or move or laugh? i didn’t mean to—” you fall to your knees beside him worried he hit his head. he shifts on to his back leaning lazily on he’s elbows and he’s smiling at you. that little fucker. or huge fucker honestly, he’s so tall he’s practically scraping the celling.

⁃ “you’re such an asshole.”

“wounded my pride, worse than a physical injury honestly.” simon looks up at you cheekily

“how long have you been doing this? do you work here? why did you come up to me?”

simon wants to toy with you a little more. he loves your short temper paired with your softness it’s intriguing. you’re so sweet worrying about him, would you be like that at one of his matches? anxious fluttering around saying a hail mary he won’t get hurt? or would you bask in the stadium lights, proud that he belongs to you? he intends to find out immediately.

“well ‘m a professional love, a man’s got to eat someway. my trainer, price, doesn’t love when i frighten the clients, but you’re too pretty to avoid.” simon winks at you like his voice isn’t flirtation enough

“i’m not afraid of you.” you lean in front of him on the mat and he gets a long look at your tits when he meets your eyes again you’re aware of how public this display is. you scramble to you feet and extend a hand to help him up and simon doesn’t move.

“get up.” you command in a harsh whisper

he shakes his head shamelessly drinking in your figure.

“seriously, get up someone could come in here.” you urge extending to gently kick him and in a moment he’s pulling your ankle shifting to ensure you fall directly on top of him. he places a gentle hand on the small of your back, respectful almost hesitant.

“now we’re even.” he teases

he smells like mint a touch of lavender and something distinctly him. you want him to lower his hand even though you’re in public. you almost want to kiss him, but then he’d get the wrong idea about your intentions. you were supposed to be scouring the price for this gym across from your apartment nothing more. he probably does this with every pretty customer that walks through the doors. you push yourself up using his chest as leverage.

“we are not even, you tricked me!” you scoff

“then let me make it up to you let me buy you dinner.” he offers

you can’t date this stranger at the gym across from you apartment. you’d see each other again, after dating your co-worker you decided not mix buisness and pleasure. boxing is an essential part of your routine, it’s safe and consistent. he’s roguishly attractive and probably not staying in the country.

“no thanks, you’re something but y’know you’re not from around here. i want a serious relationship.” you know your honesty will scare him away and you’ll never speak again

“well if you get off me, i can get on my knees and propose” simon smirks

you realize that you’ve been leaning directly on top of his chest, not shifting or standing.

“it’s one knee.” you counter as you slide off him and stand up

“for you i’d beg.” simon admitted

the way he looks at you for a second you almost believe him.

“i’m sure you offer that to ever pretty girl who walks in here.”

simon is serious about the begging, he’d wait as long you wanted to have you underneath him. but someday soon the sweet sound of you whimpering his name would be fill the room. you’d be the one pleading for him just to put the tip in.

“come to my match tonight. if i win, you let me buy you dinner. our first real date.” simon promises

he’s such trouble and you want him despite it.

how many girls batting their eyelashes and love struck boys come to his matches longing to see him afterwards? one of them will surely take your place if you don’t attend.

“what if you lose?”

“i won’t.” simon drawls

“you think you’re that good?” you taunt

“i think you’re lucky.” simon breathed

[meiloorun-notthefruit]

The Scooby gang are friends. The Scooby gang are BEST FRIENDS. THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH. THEY TRAVEL AROUND SOLVING MYSTERIES FOR AS LONG AS THEY CAN BECAUSE THEY HAVE A PASSION FOR IT AND BECAUSE IT MEANS THEY GET TO SPEND TIME TOGETHER WITH EACH OTHER. THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS.

They don’t hate each other. Maybe they get annoyed and cause they’re together all the time it might get a bit much sometimes but at the end of the day, they really deeply care about each other. They live out of a van most of the time and are on the road constantly out of CHOICE. TOGETHER. for crying out loud.

They are four teenagers and a Great Dane. They’re a family.

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023

day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4

[k1tty5]

another design for the au i’m working on (cough cough thinking about)

[charlie-artlie]

Bonnie in the real world 💖

[hi-there-buddies]

“The cell saga is bad because the z fighters were idiots the entire time”

that’s the POINT

THE CELL SAGA IS ABOUT ARROGANCE

EVERYONE IS BEING STUPID BECAUSE THEY THINK THEY KNOW WHATS GONNA HAPPEN

THEY THINK THEYRE AHEAD OF THE CURVE

BUT THEY AREN’T

THIS IS LITERALLY SHOWCASED MULTIPLE TIMES THROUGHOUT THE SAGA

IT STARTS WITH TRUNKS AND BUILDS FROM THERE

GOHAN LITERALLY LETS CELL LIVE BECAUSE OF HIS ARROGANCE

THE ONLY REASON CELL IS DEFEATED IS BECAUSE GOKU, GOHAN, AND VEGETA ALL LET GO OF THEIR ARROGANCE AND PRIDE AND FIGHT TOGETHER

GOKU STEPS IN TO HELP GOHAN, WHICH HE DIDNT DO BEFORE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT GOHAN COULD DO IT HIMSELF

VEGETA HELPS GOHAN AND LANDS THE PENULTIMATE BLOW ON CELL, DESPITE WANTING TO BE THE ONE TO END CELL HIMSELF

GOHAN FINALLY FINISHES HIM LIKE HE REFUSED TO DO BEFORE

THEY ALL LET GO OF THEIR ARROGANCE AND FINISH THE JOB

THATS THE THEMATIC POINT OF THE SAGA

RAHHHHHHH🦅🦅

[its-shells]

“So,” Grian says, “this is awkward.”

Scar says nothing. Scar had said nothing for quite a while, honestly, sitting cross-legged in the void and playing with the hem of his cloak. Or with the flower stems woven through the hem of his cloak, as it were. Lilacs and poppies. Grian had thought it painfully ironic the first time he saw them. Scar hadn’t. Not until now.

“So,” Grian says, again, “I can explain? I think?”

He can hear stifled giggles behind him, Scott and Pearl discussing the last moments of the fight. He feels Martyn’s heated glare between his shoulder blades too, knows that he’ll be getting an earful about taking his final life whenever the fourth winner can get his hands on him, but at least Martyn’s been kind enough to leave him at the mercy of the fifth for now. Or not kind enough, as it were. Whether or not Scar has any mercy for him is an open question.

“Explain what,” Scar says. It’s not a question, which is just as well, since Grian doesn’t really have an answer.

Can he explain?

“Well,” he says, “there’s these death games.”

The death games he technically started, and then technically couldn’t stop. The death games that weren’t meant to be blood sacrifices, but probably count as happening on somebody’s altar. The death games that no one ever wins, but technically–

“Technically, the people who win them get to keep their memories.” He scrunches up his nose. “Or, uh, recover their memories of the previous ones, I suppose. Which is what’s happening to you. And Martyn, and Pearl, and Scott, and I was the first, so–”

“One heck of a headache, right?” Pearl yells behind them. “Was even for me, and you’ve got four whole timelines to deal with!” She flops backwards onto the floor, which is the void, pressing the back of the palm to her forehead theatrically even as she peers up at Scar through parted fingers. Scott rolls his eyes and grabs her hand.

“Give them a moment, Pearl,” Grian hears him whisper. “I know you weren’t there for Third Life, but I’ve explained it to you a dozen times, so–“

“So,” Scar says. “Third Life was real.”

It’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now.

“That’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now,” Grian says, because he’s always loose-tongued after dying. Scar stares at him, unblinking.

“That’s a strange way of thinking for someone who declared the first ever game a double victory,” he says. His head is tilted to the side.

Grian stares back.

“That didn’t count.”

“It didn’t not.”

“You didn’t remember until now.”

“I didn’t not.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Scar shrugs. He plucks a flower from between the dark threads. It’s a poppy. “No less than the rest of it. No less sense than me waking up with sand between my toes, or burns on my arms, or bamboo in my pockets. No less than the dreams. Those didn’t make sense either.”

“It’s not like you ever asked me to explain.”

“Would you have?”

“Not the point.”

“Isn’t it?”

Pearl is still giggling. Martyn is still staring. Scott is quiet.

“Maybe it is,” Grian admits, quietly. It’s not an apology. It never will be.

Nor is it forgiveness, when Scar leans forward to tuck the poppy behind his ear. Nor will it ever be.

Sure feels like it sometimes though.

[dathen]

The thing is “My love becomes a vampire so I’ll become one too to stay with her” can’t hit the same anymore. It’s become just a “ooh being a vampire would be sexy!” or “yay we get to live forever!” romantic thing versus the most defiantly heretical devotion that would make the paper it was written on burn. There’s no “ooh~ vampires~” but rather being willing to join everything you fear and dread the most, that once shattered your mind to endure.

It also just can’t hit the same without that backdrop of severe Victorian social mores one dare not set a foot outside, and a lifetime of being bound by them. Or without the certainty that heaven is real, and you’re willing to bar yourself from it for eternity if your love isn’t granted entrance.

This is gothic Romance with a capital R at its pinnacle and I’m never going to stop thinking about it

[scealaiscoite]

bodyguard/protectee prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-

⋆ “um, look- i know i’m only meant to be here for you in a professional capacity, but if you ever need anything i’m here for you.”

⋆ “come on, just admit it- i’m starting to grow on you, aren’t i?”

⋆ “since when does your job extend to giving me relationship advice?” “it doesn’t, but i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i didn’t at least try to tell you how much more you deserve than that idiot.”

⋆ “don’t tell your coworkers, but you’re my favourite.”

⋆ “i know it’s like your job or whatever, but i- i’ve never had anyone protect me like that before. so, uh- thanks, i guess.”

⋆ “don’t worry. i’m not going to tell anyone that my big bad bodyguard like to be the little spoon.”

⋆ “i think if you let people see this side of you more often, you wouldn’t have any need for me.”

⋆ “we’re gonna be in this car for eight hours! you’re not gonna combust if you speak to me more than one word at a time.”

-ˏˋ. actions / scenarios ˊˎ-

⋆ while the protectee is in the process of overworking themselves, the bodyguard reluctantly steps in to make them take a break

⋆ after an event that shakes the protectee, the bodyguard silently takes their hand and doesn’t let go until they’re safe again

⋆ the bodyguard gets injured in the process of coming between the protectee and a physical threat and, in a panic, the protectee fusses over them as they gingerly tend to their wounds

⋆ after overhearing a personal argument that leaves the protectee upset, a very out-of-their-depth bodyguard tries their best to comfort them

⋆ whilst trying to cheer up a downtrodden protectee, the otherwise stoneyfaced bodyguard divulges the first pieces of personal information they’ve ever given to anyone on the job

⋆ during an overnight protection detail, the bodyguard finds themselves keeping company to an insomniac protectee

⋆ one finally building up the courage to ask the other out on a date once their professional relationship is over

[avocado-writing]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his shy gn s/o nervously asking if they can kiss him on the lips?

note: going to answer his as if it’s their first kiss together reader is asking for!

bg3 Taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13

Astarion

tries to downplay how genuinely pleased he is by putting on his typical bravado “oh well I knew you couldn’t keep away, darling”

secretly chuffed because he understands having boundaries over your body and he’s pleased that you’re comfortable enough with him to ask

doesn’t want to make a big deal about it in camp but doesnt hide, either — wraps an arm around your waist and brings you to where he’s standing in the mouth of his tent

wants to make it special. catches your lips with his fangs a little but not too hard.

melts a little when he feels your hand gently run up his chest.

when you break apart, smiling, he feels a little thrill at how happy you look ❤️

Gale

surprised you’re asking! out loud says, “you don’t need permission to kiss me, they’re always gladly accepted.”

but sees how much courage it took for you to ask. Is so happy you trust him.

looks around, “where do you want me…? it has to be perfect…”

that’s enough to break some tension, you laugh and press your lips to his

his hands settle on your waist. not too tight, just enough to anchor you to the moment

you can feel him smile into it 💕

“well I certainly hope that we’re able to repeat that.”

you laugh, and go in for another one…

Wyll

my man is a romantic. this kiss is at a planned event.

not that he’s pressuring you into it! he just wants to have a lovely romantic date and it so happens that that’s where you feel safe enough to ask.

you're sequestered away from the group, little picnic spread out, he wanted to have a nice moment for just the two of you.

you gather up the courage to ask him and he’s surprised for a moment! but then he smiles; hand sliding up your arm to cup your face, his lips meet yours when you lean into it

it’s perfect. soft, gentle, loving. you can feel the emotion behind it.

he’s smiling when he pulls back. for a moment, you want to apologise for not instigating this sooner. but then, as if he’s read your mind:

“you’re worth waiting a lifetime for.”

Halsin

honoured you trust him enough to ask.

he doesn’t care about rushing into anything. he’s an older man, happy to wait to take things at your pace.

not to say he isn’t pleased you asked — he is! he’s wanted to know what your kiss tastes like for a while now.

when we see him kiss in game there’s a ferocity behind it. but this time it’s soft, he lets you take the lead with pace.

uses his body to shield you from the rest of the camp so that the moment isn’t too public.

hands softly wrapping around you, bringing you to his broad chest. keeping you safe against him.

he mutters against your lips. “nature truly look its time with you. you are perfect…”

if he says it enough, maybe you’ll believe it’s true.

Dammon

is so immediately thrown he can’t even answer for a moment.

is the heat in his cheeks from the forge or something else…?

manages to find his words after a moment, “oh… yes! hang on, let me…”

cleans his hands, quickly splashes his face with water to remove the soot, turns to you-

“how should I…”

you reach over and gently press your lips to his, surprising him!

but then he wraps his arms around you, tail swishing in such enthusiasm it takes out a row of tools

he’s a bit nervous to start with but gets super into it

wants to do it again and again… if you’ll let him…

(and you do)

Rolan

you ask if you can kiss him.

an immediate “YES”

he’s so excited. there’s a non-zero chance this is his first kiss.

tries to be soft and careful but can’t hold in how happy he is.

teeth clack together a bit, maybe a bit too eager with tongue… but you find yourself smiling into it anyway 💕

again, another tail swisher. can’t keep his emotions hidden from you. doesn’t want to.

he wants to touch you all over but keeps his hands to your waist to make sure you feel comfortable.

when you pull away he’s blushing, muttering “wow…”

he’s left speechless by you.

Zevlor

my man is the most respectful tiefling around.

honoured to be asked to kiss you. I think he takes you somewhere quiet, secluded. doesn’t want people staring.

slowly brings you against his body before pressing his lips to yours.

you feel… protected by his kiss? it’s hard to explain.

you just know he’d protect you.

and the kiss is perfect.

[laracrofted]

glen for the hollywood reporter x

[demigod-shenanigans]

Thinking about a concept where Juno swaps Annabeth and Reyna instead.

Annabeth and Reyna are fine, because they’ve always been able to handle just about anything the gods threw at them. Piper accidentally has her gay awakening via fake memories of a relationship with Reyna and is really confused why her girlfriend is acting so weird. Reyna and Leo bicker non-stop because even without her memories Reyna knows what she’s doing and she’s very used to getting people to listen to her but Leo will not be serious for even one second.

Percy would start fist fighting the gods in the first week. Jason has never been more stressed in his life because he never even wanted to be praetor but it was manageable while he was doing it with Reyna and now he’s alone. What the hell is he supposed to do.

By the time Annabeth shows up at Camp Jupiter, Jason is so relieved someone knows what they’re doing that he immediately asks her to be praetor, now if she’ll excuse him he needs to go have an anxiety meltdown in a corner somewhere