#and her curls

[rarilee33]

Dana Scully best hair moments. as ranked by me in no particular order

Pilot. very cute. love the long hair/slight curl combo.

Season 1, 2, 3 (some standouts: Darkness Falls, Red Museum, Die Hand Die Verletzt, the boat scenes in One Breath, War of the Coprophages. all the curls... and more hairstyles. updos. etc, that say 1940s and 50s to me at various instances)

Beginning of season 7 (Sixth Extinction. Hello. with the sleeveless blouse? The ponytail? Glasses? peak)

Season 9. one of the saving graces of that season, possibly

I want to believe. Milf Scully era. beautiful

[notrobinsomethingworse]

Dick, deadpan: You hid a racoon in your room.

Jason, crouched by a sleeping racoon currently sleeping on a pillow. Theres scratches all over his arms and legs. He doesn’t seem bothered: yeah? What ya gonna do about it?

Dick: Un-hide? The goddamn racoon in your room?

Jason: But I’ve named him.

Dick: Well, un-name him.

Jason: He’s Barty.

Dick: I don’t care.

Jason: …

Jason: We can use him to fuck with Bruce.

Dick: …

Dick: Would Barty like some food?

[the-quiet-youve-been-longing-for]

Bisexual lightning everybody give it up for bisexual lightning

[cowboybrunch]

i love when characters get angry when they're frightened. shelter dog characters. i love when they bite, not able to tell the difference between a hand that feeds and a hand that strikes. there is no difference. a hand is a hand is a fist. i love characters that are deemed unadoptable. unlovable.

and i love when someone loves them. i love when someone sits with them, patient. they don't flinch at the snarling and snapping. they're not trying to fix it—there's nothing to be fixed. this is you, all of you, and ill wait. because one day, one day you'll take the treat. go on, draw my blood. spit and curse and rage. you're safe with me. one day, you'll feel safe with me.

[saltedbirdcat]

Head empty, only thinking of Glindas getting carried by their Elphies 🥺🥺

[exhausted-undead]

first poto post in a while! this is a study of leyendecker's Arrow Collars piece because I think his art is delicious

[tidescaller]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

[melasy]

[alvinjrsgun]

shauna coming home from a rowdy night with the boys to her angry wife

[clumsypuppy]

learned something about myself lately

[kennythetrampvamp]

[snail-day]

God, thinking about hair stylist! Suguru who just pampers you endlessly whenever you're in his chair. You’ve known each other since childhood, and even then, he was constantly playing with your hair, violet eyes bright with excitement as he begged you to let him try new styles or colors - requests you playfully denied until he earned his professional license.

Well. Now he’s licensed.

The salon practically worships him, clients lining up just for the chance to sit beneath those skilled, tattooed hands. Just to catch a glimpse of the way the light catches in his silky, dark hair, always tied back into a loose, low bun, or how the sun glints off the silver and gold piercings lacing his ears, giving him that ethereal look. that screams, out of your league.

There’s a bowl tucked behind the reception desk, filled with phone numbers scribbled on receipts and café napkins. Mostly women. A few bold men. He never throws them out. Claims he’s “not a heartbreaker,” says it with a foxlike smile and a shrug, as if he’s the one being courted against his will.

Yet, no matter how overbooked his schedule gets, no matter how many influencers, models, or high-paying clients beg for a slot, he always makes room for you.

Always.

Even cancels on celebrities from time to time. Especially one in particular, with annoyingly white hair and a cocky grin.

“I told him I had someone prettier to take care of,” Suguru says easily, lips twitching into a little smile as he greets you at the door. "He didn't take it well." As he pulls you to his chair, violet eyes meet yours in the mirror as he drapes the cape over you.

You blink. “Satoru?”

Suguru hums. “Didn’t say that.”

His fingers slide into your hair, his touch gentle, slightly sensual, and lingering between sections. “You’re my favorite client, princess,” he muses, gaze softening as he combs through your strands. “The usual?”

Before you can reply, he tuts, already inspecting your ends with mock dismay. "You haven’t been using the leave-in I gave you, have you?” His voice like silk, but there’s a scolding tone as he reaches for the product. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You try not to get distracted by the way the sunlight catches on his earrings, the gentle glint of his rings as his hands move expertly through your hair. But it’s impossible not to watch him, his focus, his elegance, the way he bites the inside of his cheek when he’s trimming. Causally measuring the strands, the soft brush of his fingers on your cheek when he's looking at you so intently.

And then he tilts your chin up with two fingers, knuckles brushing against your skin. “Look here for me, princess,” he says lowly, voice dipped in honey. You meet his gaze, heart skipping when his thumb strokes the line of your jaw.

“Perfect,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

You barely recover before he adds, casual as ever, “You always make my chair look good. Practically the prettiest girl I know.” You flush. Suguru grins.

And then comes the massage while he's washing your hair. His broad fingers working slow, hypnotic circles into your scalp, coaxing little sighs from your lips. It’s impossible not to melt. His touch borders between sinful and affectionate.

“So,” he murmurs, voice teasing at your ear, “seeing anyone special lately?”

When you say yes, there’s a pause. Barely noticeable. But you’ve known Suguru too long not to catch it. His hands still for a second too long. His smile tightens, almost imperceptibly.

“Is that right?” he echoes, leaning down until his breath fans your skin. “They must be so lucky…” Another pause. His voice lowers, warm and smug. “Though I can’t imagine anyone appreciating you quite like I do.”

You barely manage a sound as he shifts gears again, moving to blow dry your hair, playful but professional, brushing a curl behind your ear, only to messily tuck another strand back, pretending to fix it with a smile. “You’re impossible to improve,” he murmurs. “But I’ll keep trying anyway.”

Suguru doesn’t rush with you. Never has. He moves with the kind of care that makes time feel like it stretches, each moment a little sweeter than the last. His fingers glide through your hair, gentle as possible, his voice low as he murmurs between motions:

“Let me get this just right,” or, “Only perfection for my girl.”

And when he finally spins the chair around, revealing your reflection in the mirror, already moving behind you. tousling your hair a little to really showcase his work before his hands rest gently on your shoulders, thumbs grazing the fabric of your cape with the softest touch. His midnight gaze meets yours in the mirror, warm, and so unflinchingly soft it makes your stomach do a small flip.

“Beautiful,” he says, voice quiet, meant to be under his breath.

You make a small, flustered sound, and you’re grateful, almost embarrassingly so, when the door opens behind you. His next client. Saved by the bell. Nearly jumping to pack up your things.

Suguru steps back with a soft chuckle, already calling out a lazy greeting over his shoulder, but not before giving you a little wave. That same slow, familiar wave he’s always given you since you were kids.

[princessazzi]

some things never change...serving face & curls since '02. 👸🏽

[molathesunfish]

assorted lcb art

[radicrow]

i love you weather freaks........

[cilant-lis]

When you're ahead, she's coming after And when you run, she's running faster And when she loves, you better hope her Love is not a temporary high

the one and only isabela