#600 volumes

[teamjlry]

"Those were five hundred-dollar sunglasses, asshole!"

[haarute]

i forgot to post these earlier but i've acquired new boys

[orcelito]

With gay moon post approaching 600 notes (600 notes... 😥) I have had a few realizations

1: not everyone shares the same observations that I do. Which I say just bc I was IMMEDIATELY struck by the framing of Vash with the moon in that one panel the first time I saw it, but I've had a number of ppl mention they hadn't noticed it

Which leads into 2: the reason that post has so many notes is bc pointing out moments like that holds value to people. Plus I guess my commentary & conclusions? Plus acting as something for people to bounce their own ideas off of.

And then 3: there are probably more moments I could explore in such a way, & that could hold value to people

[reaperkaneki]

spent most of my day fistfighting the manga section at work. cant fit any more. too tired to keep trying. threw in the towel. manga section won.

[luckystrike-x]

.

[guideaus]

with dunmeshi being over, i thought i could catch up on/follow a diff monthly manga, and i went to look at WHA again and forgot an app or whatever took over it

i see this and im like oh hell no

[doodlboy]

Speaking of money, it makes me really happy that I just- have money to spend now

[keigologies]

new fics soon i promise . have been in a MASSIVE reading mood the last few days and am focusing on that bc i've read fuck all the last few months 🫡

[lighthouse-system]

There's something so liberating about seeing a post like "This is OUR hellsite! where we ship ALL of the ships! Fandoms unite!!" and then watching the "[blog name] has been blocked" pop-up overlay the post.

[pocketabed]

i am extremely excited for tmr

[hotmencore]

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨” 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!reader (she/her), Max Fewtrell x reader

Summary: Reader and Lando share a sweet moment on stream, that the fans absolutely crumble over.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 600+

A/N: I'm not really sure about this one, so let me know what you think!

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

It was currently late on a Saturday night, and you were in the living room of Max's apartment, him and your boyfriend Lando on stream in the next room. You didn't mind at all though, as you and Lando hadn't been back home in the UK for a while, and you two had spent the day with your friends yesterday. You currently held a copy of Before the coffee gets cold in your hands, as you were finally coming to the last few pages of the book. A blanket lay over your legs, the only noise apparent coming from the TV playing at a low volume, and the muffled talking and laughs of Lando and Max from the next room.

You and Lando didn't have a secret relationship, but more of a private one. You came to any grand prix that you could, supporting him as much as possible whilst still working your own job, but didn't feel the need to put your relationship all over the internet. You appeared a lot on Lando's jgp account, which the fans absolutely adored, but that was the majority of which you were seen on social media, your own account being private.

So when it came to twitch streams, you preferred to stay out of the way and leave Lando and Max to it.

You just came to the last line of your book, and placed it at your side, taking a sip of the tea Lando had made you earlier. You put the mug back onto the side table, and tilted your head over the back of the sofa to look almost longingly to the door of which your boyfriend was. You wouldn't admit it, seeing that it has only been about 30 minutes, but you miss his touch. But you knew you didn't really want to be seen on the stream, so decided to leave it and just wait a little.

10 minutes passed, and you had decided that you were just going to have to pluck up the courage to appear on camera if you wanted your boyfriend. You got up from the sofa, put your now empty mug in the sink, and walked to the door, slowly pulling the handle down.

The boys stopped mid conversation to peer over at the door, just as you peeked your head round to see if you were in shot of the camera.

"You okay baby?" Lando asks, a smile playing at his lips.

"Yeah I just got bored" you reply with a chuckle, walking into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Come here" He says, also with a chuckle, beckoning you over as he shuffles back in his chair, an arm held out towards you. You walk over to him, putting your hand in his, him softly pulling you down to sit on his lap. Your head naturally falls onto his shoulder, your face away from the stream as you shut your eyes, Lando's arms almost instinctively wrapping around your waist in an instance. Lando looks round at you, kissing your cheek before turning back to the stream. For a few minutes, him and Max carried on chatting, Lando absentmindedly dipping his hand underneath your top to trace random shapes on the bare skin of your lower back.

"Mate the chats going mad over you two" Max says with a chuckle, turning his head to look to Lando.

"What?" Lando laughs, shuffling closer to the chat screen on the chair, you lift your head up to also look.

Pretty much every single chat that popped up was about how adorable they found the interaction between you and Lando, though you struggled to read each one fully as they just kept flooding through. All you both did was laugh, Lando and you looking at each other, giving him the chance to place a soft and gentle kiss to your lips, which you happily reciprocated.

[melrodrigo]

tranquil

Wednesday Addams x G!N Reader

Summary: Wednesday gets a bad case of the late night feels.

Word Count: 600+

A/N: A short one simply for the vibes. Ty @wesstars n @mindyswhore for helping me out 🫶🏻 also i’m gonna mention @bingwriterxo simply cuz i miss her. Hope u enjoy!

It’s been a harrowing day.

After getting a presentation you’d been dreading for weeks done- which had effectively taken all your strength and social battery, you’d been hit with homework for every single class.

Which is how you ended up in your dorm, on a Friday night, sitting and stirring in a mix of damning pride and self-loath.

A knock on the door has your head shifting up and has you turning down the volume of your blasting classical music.

Classical music you’ve never cared for till you met Wednesday Addams.

Most popular loner to live. The infamous young detective. Psycho freak girl. A living black-and-white comic. All the names you can think of, but your favorite thing to call her is your girlfriend.

She’d played something on her cello one night while you were hanging out, and the music had flown through you so easily, lifting you and rattling you to the bone. It had been so magical you had to ask her what she was playing.

You saunter over to the door, somewhat unwillingly, believing you’ve had enough social interaction for one day, but speed up when another knock sounds- this time louder and more hurried.

“What.” You growl, before even looking at your personal space intruder.

“Are you playing tricks on me?” Wednesday, your girlfriend of two years, asks the moment you open your door. Her expression is stoic, as always, but a quiver in her lip tells you better.

The sight of her has the opposite effect on you as it would others.

You feel that little jump like you do every time you see her.

You cock an eyebrow at her, mouth upturned slightly on one side. “Well hello to you too.”

She ignores your comment, favoring instead to walk briskly into your dorm room, one that belonged to you and only you- perks of being the headmaster's kid.

You watch her as she breathes in deep, a display of immense emotion for the Addams, and sags her shoulders.

Contrary to popular belief, Wednesday did have emotions, and not to toot your own horn, but you were well versed in all her different moods by now.

But right now, there’s a different feeling in the air you can’t quite place. She seems…unguarded, unnaturally open.

You shut the door and lean back into the wall in time to see her turn around and walk up to you. She stops just centimeters away from you.

“What’s this about me playing tricks on you?” You question, a little hesitant, distracted by the glint in your girlfriend’s eyes. They barely show through her bangs nowadays, but today they shine brighter, demanding your attention.

She’s blinking slowly, gaze flitting between your lips and your eyes.

This was a look you were quite familiar with.

“Does someone want a kiss?” You tease, placing your hands on her waist gently. You break out in a grin when she sighs at the soft touch.

“Do you enjoy knowing you have control over me?” She asks, tilting her head up to stare into your eyes properly. You look for a joke in her eyes, but her expression stays the same.

Your heart soars at her words. You, out of everyone, would know how much depth her words contain.

Wednesday Addams never says anything lightly.

“Control?” You prod, wanting to make the most out of whatever this mood of hers is.

She nods, looking so relaxed and adoring it makes your heart ache.

“Control.” She whispers, very much staring at you like she wants to grab you by the face and kiss you.

“Yeah? Like what?” You tease further, ready for her to take back her former comment and call you an idiot.

What she does instead, surprises you. She turns her back and talks.

“Why are you turned the other way?” You inquire softly, so as to not ruin the moment.

Wednesday takes another breath that has your heart beating faster.

“It…helps me express my feelings.” She says. You see her hesitate before speaking once again.

“I want you to control me. Or something very close to that. I don’t know what this peculiar feeling is, but it’s dreadful. I’d do anything you asked.” She says, turning around to meet your gaze.

You soften, reach up to brush her face gently. As much as you’re enjoying the vulnerability, you’re a bit worried about what came over her to be so open.

“What’s happened? Are you okay?” You ask her quietly, concern seeping through your voice.

All she does is laugh lowly, shaking her head and bringing a hand up to cup yours.

“I am well, Y/N. I’ve just missed you.” She says, leaning further until she’s pressed up against you, not leaving any space between the two of you.

“We saw each other today.” You say, somewhat meekly, blushing furiously due to your girlfriend’s unexpected antics.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Your absence leaves a hole in my heart.” She tells you, adverting her gaze like she’s suddenly overcome with doubt.

You take her chin in your hands and tilt her face back to you, wanting to get rid of any uncertainty she has about expressing her feelings. It took ages for her to even open up to you, and you never want her to go back to feeling guarded again.

“I missed you too.” You tell her, as sincerely as you can.

Wednesday’s eyes soften even more like she doesn’t believe you said it back.

Eyes all misty and cheeks tinted red, she looks good.

You lean forward and nip her lips, then pull her in harder when you feel her shiver underneath you.

She responds immediately, grabbing tight at your pjs.

You affirm your prior statements with the most tender kiss you can muster, and you know by the way she grips you even tighter that she understands.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

fear not, bunny

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only, male masturbation, neighbor!rafe, creep!rafe crybaby!reader

“rafe.” you whisper into the phone, voice wobbling despite the lowered volume. “can you-can you come over right now?”

“bun, what is it?” rafe asks, already heading out the door. 

“im scared.” it's all you need to say to have rafe sprinting next door. 

you open the door the second he gets onto the front porch, tears in your eyes that rafe would never admit to you immediately turn him on.

“what is it?” he asks, cradling your small face in his large hands, palms soft against your jaw.

“there-” you struggle to talk with the tears running down your face, sobs threatening to ruin your speech. “there's some strange man in my backyard.” 

rafe tugs you into him, hand rubbing over your back as you let your tears loose, face pressed against his crisp shirt.

“im sorry i didn't know who else to call and you told me if i ever needed anything-” you begin to ramble. rafe is used to it by now. you call him for anything and everything, ever since you moved in next door and he came over to “introduce” himself, aka get a look at you up close.

you've called when you needed help hanging up your tv. when a kitchen drawer won't close properly. even when you couldn't choose an outfit and needed his opinion. rafe always comes running.

he hopes every time that he runs over that you're in your bikini again like you were when you called him and asked him if he owned any beach towels you could borrow, having just moved to the outer banks and not having any.

“its alright, bun.” rafe says. “ill go look for you, yeah?”

rafe doesn't expect any actual credible threat. you have a tendency to overdramatize, and rafe isn't even sure if you knowingly do it. he lets you stay in the hallway, hands shaking slightly while he heads deeper into your house until he's able to look out your glass doors and into the backyard, letting out a small chuckle when he realizes.

“oh, rafe.” you run to him when he appears back in the hallway. “i was so scared.” 

rafe doesn't say anything about how he's only been gone for a few seconds, accepting your hug.

“it's alright.” he soothes you softly. “it was just the meter man.”

“w-what?” you blink up at rafe, clearly never having heard of it before.

“he comes to all the houses and checks the gas meters. that's why he's in your backyard. he's going to go to my house next probably.” rafe resists the urge to end his sentence by calling you dummy, not wanting you to take the insult too seriously.

“oh, okay.” you let out a dramatic sigh, reaching to push your hair out of your face, flipping it over your shoulder.

“but you did a good job calling me, bunny.” rafe says softly, like he's teaching a child a lesson. “need you to keep doing that whenever you need anything.”

“i know.” you hum. “i only trust you, rafey.”

“that's good.” he nods. “im all you need.”

rafe thinks about making a move, but ends up walking back across the yard to his own house as he always does. it's a game at this point, how long he can struggle with having you living next door without getting you to bounce on his cock.

he knows you'll do it, but for now rafe just walks back up to his room, his window facing your bedroom.

all you're doing is sitting down and fixing your makeup from your tears, completely oblivious to rafe watching you, completely unaware when he takes his cock out and begins to stroke it, eyes on you in your thin, tight tank top.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie

[amuseoffyre]

A succession of thoughts:

there was too much made of the memory editing for it not to be relevant at some point in S3: between the people Crowley couldn’t recall, the threat of memory erasure directed at Gabriel, Gabriel’s amnesia, the constant looming Book of Life warning

given that Nina and Maggie are mirrors for Az/Crowley, I’m sus about their first conversation we see on screen where Nina recalls Maggie’s order of choice and Maggie happily says “You remembered!” only for Nina to go “Yeah, lots of drinks up here, but I only remember the regulars.” But very next scene when Maggie tries to give her name, Nina goes “Yeah, I know, Skinny Latte.” I have Forbs A-Boding

Speaking of which, Aziraphale’s diaries that he kept for many hundreds of years, collecting and collating and storing all his many many years of memories and recollections in. Which will be stored in his bookshop. By someone who has been told that reading books is a good thing to do.

Related to which the repeated presence of The Crow Road is also too prevalent to be coincidence. A story about piecing together what happened to someone by going through their papers? In a story where we already have 600+ volumes of a character’s papers available and ready to be examined?

I don’t know what Neil expected, lobbing a show with all these tidbits to a feral english/film nerd with a taste for literary, textual and visual analysis. I am Well Fed.

Just wait until I sink my teeth into all the mentions of A Tale of Two Cities.

[almond-tofuuu]

❄️Can't lose you❄️

Zayne x reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries but nothing is detailed, a little (lot) of angst, happy ending tho (kind of)

Word count: 600

Zayne's familiarity with injuries ran deep, forged through years of serving as a doctor and navigating the horrors of a war zone. His resilience, honed over time, stemmed from his ability to maintain composure in the face of chaos, a trait that set him apart as an exceptional surgeon. Yet, as he stood before you, your body drenched in a pool of crimson, his usual calm facade crumbled.

The ER exuded an eerie tranquility that night, a stark departure from its usual bustling pace. Zayne couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him, amplified by your absence. It had become a routine, a cherished moment – your brief visits to his office on your way home, a shared tranquility interrupted only by the relentless summons of emergencies. Initially, he brushed off your delay, perhaps you'd been sent out to deal with a group of wanderers, or maybe you simply missed the train again, it wouldn't be the first time, but as time stretched on, apprehension crept in.

The shrill beep of his pager interrupted his thoughts, summoning him to yet another crisis in the ER. Suppressing his concerns, Zayne hastily navigated the labyrinth of corridors, mentally bracing himself for the unknown ahead. Yet, no amount of preparation could have steeled him for the chilling sight that awaited.

There you lay, motionless upon a stretcher, a crimson tide seeping through your shirt.

Zayne's world ground to a halt.

In that moment, a profound uncertainty gripped him, eclipsing the clarity of his usually sharp mind. Fear and panic coiled around him, suffocating his every thought, rendering him powerless in the face of the unthinkable.

The room pulsed with frantic activity as medical staff swarmed around your motionless form, their urgent voices blending into a disorienting noise. Zayne, usually the epitome of composure in the chaos of the emergency room, found himself frozen, his years of expertise rendered moot in the face of your battered figure. Amidst the chaos, a distant announcement pierced through, signaling the preparation of the operating room, but it was the firm grip on his shoulder that momentarily yanked Zayne from his spiralling thoughts.

Turning, he met Greyson's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them amidst the chaos.

"We're taking her to the OR straight away... You should return to your office. I'll update you as soon as there's any news," Greyson's words were a lifeline in the storm.

Unable to find his voice, Zayne simply nodded, watching in silence as they wheeled you away, his heart heavy with unspoken fears.

Alone in his office, Zayne paced with restless anguish, the image of you haunting his thoughts. He, who had never been one to seek solace in prayer, found himself pleading to unseen forces for your survival. Despite his unwavering trust in Greyson and the medical team, his mind betrayed him with a torrent of doubts.

What if the worst were to happen?

What if your injuries were too severe?

What if he never got the chance to gaze into your beautiful eyes again?

His fingers raked through his disheveled hair, a futile attempt to anchor himself amidst the dark thoughts consuming him, unwilling to confront the unbearable prospect of a world without you.

After what seemed like an eternity, a gentle rap echoed on his office door. Ignoring his own disheveled state, Zayne hurried to greet the visitor, his heart hammering in his chest as he swung the door open to reveal Greyson's fatigued figure. The weariness etched on Greyson's face spoke volumes of the arduous surgery.

"Is she..." Zayne started, his voice faltering as he couldn't bring himself to complete the question.

Greyson's reassuring touch on Zayne's shoulder brought a wave of relief, his gentle gaze offering solace as he delivered the long-awaited news. "She's okay, Zayne. Just breathe... she's alive."

With a shuddering exhale, Zayne released the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his eyes brimming with tears of gratitude as he whispered a heartfelt "thank you" to Greyson.

Gathering his composure, Zayne met Greyson's gaze once more. "Where is she? I need to see her."

Understanding the urgency in Zayne's request, Greyson provided the room number, observing silently as Zayne bolted down the corridor, propelled by a mix of hope and desperation towards you.

Entering your room, Zayne is engulfed by a tempest of emotions. His heart wrenches at the sight of the resilient hunter he holds dear, now lying vulnerable in the hospital bed, yet an overwhelming sense of gratitude washes over him knowing you're still breathing. Drawing closer to your bedside, his eyes meticulously trace the remnants of your ordeal etched onto your skin—every scratch, bruise, and cut a testament to your resilience. Tenderly, one hand reaches out to cradle your cheek while the other gently clasps yours.

"...I thought I lost you..." Zayne's voice quivers with raw emotion, tears finally breaking free as he surrenders to the flood of relief and fear that had been bottled up inside.

Bowing his head, Zayne tenderly plants a lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch conveying both love and resolve. Pulling back slightly, he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice unwavering, brimming with determination.

"I swear, I will never let anything or anyone hurt you again.... You mean too much to me. I-" he pauses, gathering his thoughts. "I should've said it sooner, but I was too afraid... Now I realise that living in a world without you is far more terrifying.... You mean more to me than you could ever know.... Losing you, would be the equivalent to someone ripping my heart out of my chest.... And when you wake up, I'll make sure you know just how much I love you...."

[atimeofbeing]

How many physical books do you own?

In honour of the people who misread my last poll question about the number of standalone volumes by a single author... How large is your collection of books?

For the purposes of this poll, it would only be books that would be a pain in the ass if you were to move (ie no e-books, but ttrpgs, cookbooks, art books, etc count)