#someone make a fic

[mysinkingsun]

Lottienat living together after being rescued

[haylee-bb]

Even better if it's the actual Mythbusters testing the tropes.

Is sexual tension inevitable when there's only one bed?

If my best friend has a sibling, will I fall in love with them?

Will I meet my future spouse in my favorite local coffee shop?

Adam and Jaime will find out in this episode of Tropebuster!

[flammablepitch]

i fully believe this is baz and agatha over cocktails every sunday afternoon, i won’t hear otherwise

*after gossiping* pleasure doing bitchness with you

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[greg-is-cool]

ThinK about this for a sec. If the hemospectrum was around for billions of years, long enough to have everyone evolve into their roles, what would you expect to see?

The lowbloods would be strong, and live long. They would be able to get to places that others can't for maintenance, say underwater. They would have insane healing factor and pain tolerance. They would be experts in the tech most commonly used at the time, mostly mechanical with a small amount of digital.

The midbloods would work higher jobs, on things like fashion and art. They would be generals, being charismatic and/or manipulative to sway people to their side in battle. They would be writers, documenting everything. They would gather enormous amounts of Lusus meats to feed their rulers and the next generation of children, who they would taKe care of.

The highbloods would be living in luxury, with powers that let them do as little as possible. They would move anything they liKe with minimal effort, predict the future, and shoot eye beams as a last resort. They would be scientists, worKing on ways to maKe themselves more powerful by fusing themselves with newly invented biotech that runs on psionics. They would be shamans, being contacted by ghosts of the past and uncovering the prophecies of the future. They would be leaders, their short lifespans allowing a viable autocracy where elected leader rule until they die or are overthrown, and continue on as advisors channelled by the shamans.

And above all, the prophesied red leader. A caste shared only by the priest that will precede him. The one said to be born of endless rage, and live amongst oceans of his own blood. The one who will be known by every troll, who will abolish every injustice that came before, who will reign until the universe ends and then some. He will hide until he is needed most, and will befriend the gods and create a utopia. He will sway the blacK fiend, love the red knight, fight the fuchsia queen. He will see the death of many, see a creature of hate try to love, see the one who is already here and stand his ground. You will be betrayed. You will be despised. you will lose hope, and lose to hope. But as you paint over your gray sign in your true colours, you will continue on.

[saixria]

Somewhere in Apollo’s hospital on Olympus

[devilry-revelry]

Yes, yes, yes, yes 🤩

monster au intros - team 141 feat. Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz!

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[hinamie]

"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"

some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3

[strngedve]

We know Castiel is based on Cassiel the archangel but my favorite little headcanon is that he was the archangel Cassiel.

He was created as the angel of Saturday, patron of the vulernable and the overlooked, the angel of tears, angel of temperance.

But that was it, wasn't it? Castiel lacked temperance -- He could never be like the other angels, God hadn't created him to be a warrior like his brothers; Cassiel was a gift to humans, the angel of strife and duality, something so fundamental to humanity. The only angel who could really understand them. The angel who sat and watched, waiting to be called upon to deliver peace. Cassiel was God's love for humanity. How could God not know Cassiel would get too close, too involved with humankind? Maybe he did, but he could never know his own love would ever defy him. Maybe he could never know that whatever he burned with his divine love was also scorched with his divine wrath, enough of it to break ranks when he finally tired of watching Heaven play with the Earth.

So God punished him, bent him into the shape of a solider and named him the shield of God as a reminder of what his role had always been. But Cassiel was special, he would always be special, so he disguised Cas, protecting him from the persecution of the other angels. Maybe he even wipes it all from Cas' mind, gets rid of the memory of rebellion before Cas can hurt himself with it again.

And Castiel does it right this time. He stays just as detached as he needs to be, he protects only who he needs to protect, he does only what he is told to do. So God gives him another chance, another opportunity to prove himself with something big, the perfect task for his angel of the vulnerable.

Go fetch Dean Winchester.

What could go wrong?

[sp0o0kylights]

“Dustin isn’t coming.”

“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.

His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 

“Family emergency.” 

Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 

He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.

(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.

It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)

Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.

“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 

“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 

“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 

(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 

 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 

“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 

“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 

“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 

She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.

Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 

They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?

What the hell was up with that guy?

At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.

He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 

“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 

Fatal mistake.

Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 

Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 

“What was that, Wheeler?” 

“I’m just saying--!” 

“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 

“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.

Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 

“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 

“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 

“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 

“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 

“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 

To Eddie, she says; 

“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 

Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.

(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 

“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 

“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.

 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”

Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 

“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 

“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.

Who’s scowling.

“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 

“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 

Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 

“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  

“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”

They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 

In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.

xXx

Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 

It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 

So he’d made a few comments about it.

Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 

Made another couple of nasty comments. 

Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.

Except, apparently, for Lucas. 

“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 

Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.

Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 

“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.

(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 

Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 

“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 

To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 

Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”

“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 

Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 

A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 

“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 

“We had the junkyard handled--”

Lucas scoffs. 

“We absolutely did not.” 

“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”

“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 

This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 

Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 

“He pulled your sister into it.”

“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 

Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.

“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”

“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 

“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 

“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”

“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 

“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 

“Exactly.” 

“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”

“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”

“She--”

“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 

“I--”

“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.

“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 

“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 

“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”

“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 

“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 

The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 

“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.

And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.

If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.

[stoopidstapler]

SO IVE BEEN GOIN INSANE SINCE THIS TRAILER DROPPED. JUST. SIMON. SIMON. SIMON.

[peachypuppykit]

(jake and carlos regressors are my go to but i gen got so excited when i saw excella cg)

cream caregiver excella gionne moodboard

[a-person-on-the-internet]

Only Epic the Musical could have a solid 50% of the fandom say "ooh kinky" after watching a graphic torture scene.

I do not blame any of yall. I can see it.

But also. Damn.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Tim: I know who you are.

Danny, squinting down at him wearing Hello Kitty pjs.: What are you talking about? Who's child is this?

Tim: Batman has gotten too dangerous. He is a threat to himself and others. He needs a Robin to keep him sane. You need to come back to Gotham.

Danny: Kid-

Tim: I have proof! I'll release it all!

Danny sighing: I was just about to have some milk and Oreos. Do you want some?

Later, while Tim is eating his snack, Danny is talking on the phone: No Jazz, of course I'm not Robin! How was I supposed to know that turning off gravity so I could do a crazy hard flip would lead to a literal toddler thinking I was Robin? .....Because apparently, the quadruple somersault can only be done by four people in the world.....I don't know! What am I supposed to do with him? Tim already threatened to become Robin himself! He's so tiny, Jazz! I can't just send him out in the field like that!.........Look, Batman is spiraling. He'll never notice.....yes, I'm sure. How hard can being Robin be? I was already Phantom for a few years.

[podcast-hemocytoblast]

What if when Michael got Distortioned he/they/it/(?) had just kept showing up to work? Imagine Gertrude comes into the archives and finds a bunch of paperwork filled out in yellow highlighter and folded into impossible shapes, and then Michael-Distortion just walks into the room door-style and sits down at his work computer so it can email Gertrude a phishing scam.