#They’re so cute shut up

[apocalyptichearts]

am I, as a resident evil gameverse fan, supposed to be preprogrammed into hating the w.s. anderson films? yeah, with all the discourse and (frankly excessive) trashing of the series this side of the fandom you’d think so.

does that stop me from enjoying them in a “guilty pleasure” sort of way? absolutely fucking not. have you seen the clairice aberfield ship?!?

no thoughts, just my babies and their homoerotic friendship <33

[chinchillion]

[jacarandaaaas]

I’m so normal about them

[lucienarcheron]

Thinking about how each of the Archeron husbands would be a crying mess watching their beloveds walk down the aisle and it’s making me hella emotional 😭

Rhys’s lips are trembling so hard and he’s trying to wipe his eyes as fast as possible so he doesn’t miss a second of his Feyre darling beaming at him.

Cassian is sniffling so loudly (“It’s the flowers.” he wails) and Nesta’s smile at his antics is the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely.

Lucien has to take a few deep breaths before he turns around and it’s those silent, joyful tears streaming down his face and Elain’s giving him a warning look through her own teary eyes because he if doesn’t stop, she’ll start crying and then the feelings will overwhelm them both.

And they’re all so happy and so excited to spend the rest of the lives with their loves 😭

[theotherbuckley]

Okay but Tommy drops out of high school — he told his father he was gay and he told him he could either be homeless or go to military school. He goes to military school and joins the army and he likes flying the helicopters because it means he doesn’t have to do any of the killing himself. And he makes some friends.

There's one guy who's like the squad leader who's a few years old and built like a Greek god and Tommy's young and a little bit in love. And they're friends maybe even family because this whole group of people spend every waking (and sleeping) moment together. And they all talk like a family and they all say they love each other and tease each other and it's nice. And one night it's just the two of them trading a flask of some sort of alcohol that Tommy doesn't know the name of and the man asks Tommy why he joined the army and where he wants to be in five years and Tommy trusts this man. He's half way in love with him so he doesn't even think twice before he tells the story about the time he came out to his family and his father nearly beat him to death before sending him here. And the conversation tapers off after that and he doesn’t register the change in the air but when he wakes up the next morning he’s being dishonourably discharged because he poses “unacceptable risk to the high standards of morale, good order and discipline, and unit cohesion that are the essence of military capability”. He knows what that means.

Tommy joins the fire department because he doesn’t know what else to do. He represses anything regarding his sexuality because he knows now that it’s wrong. He almost feels like he has a family again because his captain seems to like him and some of the guys are cool even if they say things he doesn’t agree with. And then he starts agreeing because maybe they’re right and he’s wrong and he’s just inherently wrong. So he follows their leads and is just straight racist because that’s how he can fit in.

And then a black lesbian woman joins and says she’s a black lesbian woman and Tommy doesn’t understand that either because you can’t be queer you just can’t be because it’s wrong.

But he nearly dies and and an Asian man saves his life and a black lesbian woman comes up with a better idea than any of them had and she tells them she’s no different and she is just as capable. So he improves himself he does and he tries to be better but he still can’t be who he is because the last 2 times he was honest about that he was betrayed.

Tommy leaves the 118 and “don’t ask, don’t tell” is lifted and he meets this guy he likes who likes him back and the 217 don’t seem to have a problem with the gender neutral pronouns and he slowly but surely lets himself open up again and be who he is and when the thing with that guy doesn’t work out because he’s moving to New York and Tommy’s not sure he’s ready to leave, it’s okay because his crew is there and they support him and he can still be himself.

[worstlovesong]

Thinking about them

[huntingrays]

man i’ve never had a ship that i genuinely wanted to become canon until valgrace

like with other ships i was chill or was fine with them just being friends or didn’t trust the author to do it right

but valgrace?

if they ever be canon i apologize for the person i’ll become

[zimmbzon]

You working at the bookstore just trying to have a quiet one, do your job, get paid and get out. But these two fuckers are having the realest fake date you’ve ever seen. All over your goddam books.

[remuschocolatestash]

Deamus Headcanon:

Dean is a LOTTTTTTT taller than Seamus, Seamus is so short that when they hug his head is perfectly on Dean’s chest. Seamus has always hated how short he is compared to Dean, he was always teased (lovingly of course) about it.

After the war, he didn’t care about the teasing anymore, he loved how short her was. He loved that he could hug Dean and hear his heart beating loud and strong. He loved that he could hug Dean and know for sure that Dean IS right there hugging him, it’s not just a figment of his imagination. He could hug him and know Dean is alive.

Follow on from that ^^ Seamus also hugs Dean or puts his hand on Dean’s chest when he is scared, sad, worried, etc. if there is a loud noise, he needs to know Dean’s ok. If they’re watching a scary movie, he needs to know Dean hasn’t somehow been sucked into it. He needs to lay on Dean’s chest each night just in case he starts to slip away in his sleep. He always needs that reassurance, and Dean thought he was just being clingy until he found out the reason Seamus now loved his height so much.

[finding-you-in-any-world]

this is so couple coded!

[iheartjameshetfield]

ugh here you go, the full pic

STOPPPP THEYRE SO CUTE THEY LOOK SO HUGGABLE OMG😭😭

THANK YOU FOR NOT GATEKEEPING!!!!

[supermanddntdieforthis]

I was tagged by @edscuntyeyeshadow and @tulipseason to do this picrew

I tag @vargblood @scarrletmoon @crayolasaurus @nandorisms and whoever else wants to do it

[lamb-writes]

the rumble where you lay.

pairing. guero x bottles

content. drug mention, police mention, forced proximity, slight d/s dynamics, finger sucking, frottage, marking kink, slight possession

word count. 3.4k

a/n. omg smut for once??? somehow there is no content of them on their own and i think that’s unfair. they should’ve kissed at least once on the show too. for the plot

“Fuck, I’m tired,” Guero groaned, already heading to the driver’s seat of the van. “Prospect, finish up the rest.” 

Bottles, already holding an arms’ full of heroin packages from the truck, stood up. “What? No, man. EZ said we both had to do this.”

“I’m the one who drove here, I practically did most of the work already.”

“It’s going to be morning soon, dude. We literally need two sets of hands to do this—” He was cut off by the van for slamming shut. “Motherfucker.” He cursed under his breath before setting the rest of the packages in his arms in the trunk.

Bottles knocked on the window. “EZ’s gonna be pissed if this doesn’t get finished and you know it.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of work ahead of you, then,” Guero said with a grin, already turning up the radio. Bottles couldn’t hear it that well, but it was definitely too loud for the job they were there to do.  Especially with the backdoors open. 

Begrudgingly, Bottles went back to work. Despite how much work was ahead of him, he was a prospect. It’s what he was here for, as unfair as it seemed sometimes. Regardless of how much friendly conversation Guero allowed him at times, there was always a clear barrier between them. It stared at Bottles every time he looked at the other man’s kutte. 

Half an hour in, his eyes had adjusted to the dark. His sweater sleeves were rolled up over his elbows. The night chill tinged his skin until his hair was standing on end, but not enough to properly cool him down from the work he was doing. His gloves were shoved into his pocket. Not the best idea if something went wrong, he did realize, but at that point, he just needed it to be over with. Every few minutes, Guero would roll down the window to update him about whatever police chatter he heard on the radio.

“Do you think you could be any quicker with that?” he said one time.

“Not unless you wanna lend a hand.”

“Fuck no.”

—

Another half an hour passed. He was almost done moving everything, but fuck, was it taking a toll on him. He took the last four packages in a stack and slowly trudged them into the van.

He knocked on the driver’s seat window again to get Guero’s attention, probably harder than he intended to, but he was too tired to care at that point. Clearly it was evident, too, with Guero already preparing to yell at him but stopping once he got a look at his face. 

“I got everything transferred. Can you put the tarp over it? My legs are about to give out.” Bottles walked over to the passenger seat without waiting for a response. Again, bold but he hoped Guero would grant him at least a break. Which surprisingly, he did, tucking the corners of the tarp into the stack Bottles made so nothing was showing. Bottles made a note to thank him on the ride back. 

He was about to fall asleep when he saw a car in the distance, the headlights illuminating its black and white coloring. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Shit, cops. Stay back there,” he said, hopefully loud enough for Guero to hear.  All Bottles was able to do was turn off the interior lights before he was pulled into the back of the van.

“Asshole, are you trying to get us caught?” Bottles tried to respond, but was interrupted by Guero scrambling to pull the tarp over both of them.

They were dead silent, trying to hear the cop car drive by or God forbid someone peering into the van windows. As he caught his breath, Bottles noticed their closeness. With the amount of product beside them, there wasn’t much room for them to hide. Somehow, they ended up facing each other. Bottles' back was pressed against the backs of the seats while Guero was almost knocking over the pile of heroin packages. Though, even with that, their chests were just about touching. Legs unintentionally tangled together in the chaos. He could practically feel the adrenaline running through the both of them.

Miraculously, his glasses were still on and his eyes were still adjusted to the dark. Faintly, he could see Guero—probably much clearer than Guero could see him. The first beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, if they weren’t already swept away by his bangs which were strewn over his forehead. Though, Bottles assumed he looked something similar. Guero’s eyes were darting around despite there not being much to see. Maybe the peak through of a flashlight or a shadow passing by.  

“I thought you were checking the police radio?”

“I was, I didn’t hear anything close to us. Guess the dumb fuck was just going on a nighttime drive or something. Just be quiet—let me listen.”

Still nothing. Whatever car was driving by, it was probably long gone by now. Probably. But, he probably shouldn’t say that.

There are often times when Bottles has to remind himself to not get too comfortable. To remind himself that he’s just a prospect. Maybe he was too trusting, too gullible, or got caught up in everything too quickly. Whatever it was, that reminder was flaring red at that moment. Something about how they were right now felt off. They were talking too comfortably. Like they were in this mess together rather than this just being one of Bottles’ fuckups like usual. 

Not to mention how close they were right now. He shouldn’t be thinking so hard about this, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this close to any of the members before. He probably should’ve been scanning as best as he could through the tarp, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the rise and fall of Guero’s chest as his breath evened out. Their legs were still slotted together, too. Just stopping at the middle of their thighs. The fabric in his pants felt so much thinner than they should be suddenly. It felt like he was feeling so much more than he should. 

They stayed there without saying anything, without moving for probably too long. The air around them was already thick with condensation. Bottles felt lightheaded. 

“We’re—probably good now,” Guero said hesitantly, throwing off the tarp over them, suddenly feeling how isolated they were. Alone at the border with just a couple guns in the backseat to protect themselves. With a prospect member no less. Meaning, Guero had to make all the calls. He shifted himself onto his knees so he could sit up to the best of his ability to peer through the windows as Bottles sat up as well. In doing so, Guero’s legs were pressed even closer into the prospect’s. 

No one was there. Aside from the much-welcomed “fresh” air, everything seemed the same. The only thing he could see through the windows was a dark night painted with much more stars than there were in Santo Padre. He shifted to survey the front of the van. Nothing through the windshield. Their weapons and supplies were still cluttered in the backseat. Thank fucking god. 

“Alright. Coast is clear, we can finally get back home now—” Whatever Guero was about to say next trailed off after he got another look at Bottles, whose face was a bright red and had a hand pressed tightly against his mouth. His eyes were wide and looking up at Guero from over his glasses. 

Guero thought for a moment, why Bottles was acting like that, now of all times. Then, he realized the position they were just in; one of Guero’s knees pressing between Bottles’ legs, sometimes digging farther in as he scanned out the windows. They were undeniably close the entire time. That was one of the last things on Guero’s mind during the moment, but it clearly affected Bottles.

“Seriously, prospect? That’s what you’re going to freak out about?” Guero sat back down, hopefully giving Bottles enough space to calm down. He needed a second to relax, too. 

Bottles didn’t respond. His hand was still over his mouth, though now, not as tight as before. Just enough to keep himself from letting any unnecessary sounds slip out. And they just about did before. He really shouldn’t have acted like that. He shouldn’t be acting like this now. There was still a chance they could be in danger, and he’s blushing and sweating like a goddamn teenager. 

Guero took a few deep breaths as he sat down, letting the adrenaline run off him. But as he did, he was able to get a better look at Bottles. Still shaking, still bright red. Guero continued to eye him, something habitual from his family somehow always being caught in the line of fire. As his eyes followed Bottles’ frame down, Guero took in his hair, his fogged-up glasses, his rolled-up sleeves, the bottom hemming of his shirt that was definitely tucked in when they were assigned this job, down to his waist, and—

Guero’s eyes snapped back to Bottles’; shocked ones meeting shocked turned to humiliated. Just as soon as their eye contact was made, it was broken by Bottles scrambling to the driver’s seat.

“Fuck, I’m sorry! You-I’ll just drive back. You don’t have to look at me, or-or think about this, and we can just get back home.” Bottles’ words came out poorly and fast, maybe as a way to clutter his brain away from any more recollection on what just happened, or maybe the blood still hasn’t gotten back to his head yet. 

“Prospect,” Guero said firmly before Bottles could get over the passenger seats, “sit back down.”

Bottles immediately did as he was told, force of habit, maybe. They were sitting like they were before, facing each other with nothing to avoid each other. Bottles kept his thighs tightly together as he sat down, uncomfortable, but much better than the alternative. Aside from kicking him out of the club entirely, this was one of the worst punishments Guero could’ve come up with. Him, sitting there, unconsciously bracing, waiting for the silence thick in the air, to be broken as Guero looks him up and down for what felt like the 20th time. Bottles hated how unreadable Guero was when he wanted to be. 

“You said you were scared of me before,” Guero began after a while, now leaning closer to him. A part of Bottles wanted to back up, put more distance between them, but another part of him didn’t. Besides, he was already against the back of the seats. “Why’s that? I think it’s smart, I just wanna know the reason.”

Bottles forgot he said that if he was being honest. It wasn’t that long ago, but a lot had happened in the past few months. “I-uh, you were, um, such a—I mean at the time, maybe it was because of what I knew about—”

“How ‘bout I make it easier for you?” He was over him now. Their faces were close, but not as close as they were under the tarp. Guero continued, but not before making a show of his very intentional look down at the increasingly obvious tent in Bottles’ pants. “Do I scare you now?”

“Y-yes.”

“Right, so you wanna listen to me now, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Guero took the hand Bottles didn’t notice he put under his chin and tilted it up, forcing their eye contact one again. “Getting a hard-on from your superior digging his knee into you, kinda masochistic, don’t you think?”

Something about how he said it made Bottles’ hair stand on end. It was such crude, accurate wording that somehow made it sound much more vulgar. 

He was still sitting, now slightly leaning back to make room for the man now over him. His arms were still there uselessly at his sides. His head was taking too much comfort in the hand holding it. And unfortunately, his erection was still pulsing uncomfortably in his boxers. 

He didn’t know if Guero wanted an answer, didn’t know what answer he’d want. So he warily decided on just looking back at him helplessly. 

Then, he gave Bottles that look. The one Bottles had gotten to know over his few months at the club. The one that Guero made when he was about to do something without care for the consequences. The one that said let’s fuck around and find out. 

Guero took one of his legs and put it on the other side of Bottles’ lap. If he was being honest, he wasn’t that sure what he was doing. He didn’t know how far he planned to go with this, either. But, he did know he wanted to have some fun.

He started by fumbling with Bottles’ belt, planning to leave him hanging with a little stimulation before undoing his own. He could feel Bottles’ jolt of panic under him, but he didn’t protest further. 

Guero slipped down Bottles’ pants and boxers to pull out his cock. As he did so, he heard Bottles try to stifle something close to a gasp or a moan—he couldn’t tell which. Whatever it was, Guero did find it charming how awkward-yet-honest the other man was. He was just willing to let Guero do whatever he pleased, and he appreciated that. 

Bottles’ cock was thick and heavy, Guero realized as he first wrapped his fingers around it. It wasn’t too long, though, its length only passing Guero’s fist by an inch or two. Before starting work on his own belt, Guero swiped his thumb over the already damp head, reveling in Bottles’ unsuccessful attempts to stay quiet. 

“Sensitive,” Guero murmured. Bottles could tell it was pointed at him, but again, he decided to let the comment stay in the air. His mind was still spinning, in his defense. He knew it would make sense for him to participate or something, but he didn’t know what Guero was planning yet.  

Bottles took hold of his cock in replacement of Guero, still too shaky to start moving, preferring to watch Guero instead. Which was definitely a mistake, as his cock very clearly twitched in his hand as Guero took out his own. It was a bit skinnier than Bottles’ with a slight curve, it wasn’t fully hard yet, which Guero fixed with a few quick strokes. 

“Open up,” Guero said like it was a casual request, already resting his index and middle finger on Bottles lips. He continued, already feeling wide, unsure eyes boring into him without needing to look himself.  “Relax, nothing too crazy. I’m just trying to make it feel better for the both of us.” 

He gave another look at Bottles. One that said, we’re already gone this far, what’s a little more?

At that, Bottles complied, taking Guero’s fingers into his mouth. He clumsily maneuvered them around his mouth, trying his best to wet them without scraping them with his teeth. Are teeth bad in this situation? Does it matter? It wasn’t like he was sucking him off. Was that next? It wasn’t like he was a virgin, but this kind of sex was completely new to him. Though, he’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about it before. 

“Fuck,” Bottles swore he heard the other man whisper. Somewhere between amusement and arousal. But, his eyes were much too out of focus, much like a lot of his senses, for him to be sure. 

Satisfied, Guero removed his fingers and lazily wet both of their cocks in saliva. He leaned in, keeping his dry hand on Bottles’ shoulder and resting their sweat-damp foreheads together before working them both in his hand. He kept the pace slow at first, appreciating how sensitive Bottles was at the smallest bit of gratification—all of his weak moans and whines. Guero wondered how little he’d have to give to still turn the other man into a mess. 

He stilled his hand, grinning at Bottles continuing to buck into him, but not mentioning it further. He dipped his head into the crook of the prospect’s neck and began to bite and suck with the intention to leave a mark. 

As Guero expected, Bottles already let out a moan much louder than any he probably thought he could produce. Bottles tried to cover his mouth with his hand like before to suppress any more noise, but a hand caught his wrist before he could. 

“Nope,” Guero said, breathy and light, barely removing himself from Bottles’ neck. He could feel the man’s heartbeat from where was. It was enough to make him dizzy. “I wanna hear all the sounds I’m getting out of you.”

To his delight, Bottles complied. Though hesitantly, he relaxed more into Guero’s touch, letting his moans escape from his mouth much more freely. He was thrusting into Guero’s hand so shamelessly, he wasn’t sure if he knew he was doing it. 

Fuck, a part of Guero really wanted to finish him off like this; needy and desperate and loud. What he would give to cover him in enough bruises and bites for them to be permanent. Enough to permanently mark him as part of the club. As Guero’s. 

Another part of Guero wanted him to rough him up until he was bleeding and begging. 

He looked back at Bottles, who’s glasses somehow got lost in everything. If he wasn’t red before, he sure as hell was now. Eyes darting everywhere except at the man over him. Some hickeys were already blooming on his neck and jaw—reddish pink setting fondly into his skin. 

Guero let a few beads of saliva fall out of his mouth and onto his hand, hastily re-wetting their cocks, stroking them much faster than before. He did originally want to draw this out further, but damn, if he was here any longer, neither of them would ever get back to Santo Padre. 

He set his forehead back against Bottles’, their moans hungry and low as they tried to reach the high together. At least, that was Guero’s intention. Bottles, on the other hand, was inexplicably fixated on Guero’s lips. 

They were pink and bruised and painfully close to Bottles’ face. He wanted to kiss him so badly. He wasn’t sure why, it just felt right. Maybe he was just a romantic like that. Though, he wasn’t sure any of this could be considered romantic. He decided against it, figuring if Guero wanted to, he would’ve done it already. 

Rather than cluttering his mind with all the things he’d like to do, conceded to what he could do—get lost in all the senses overtaking him. His heartbeat pounding back into his ears. The sound of skin hitting slick skin echoing through the van. Guero’s hot breath and giggly moans hitting his face. The hand around his and Guero's cock that was moving like he’d done this hundreds of times over. 

His wrist was still caught in Guero’s free hand. Light enough that it wouldn’t take much effort to break free, but Bottles didn’t move.

Bottles came first with a much too loud whimper, his orgasm washing over him in waves. Cum spilt over Guero’s fingers as he continued to stroke their cocks together. Overstimulation buzzed through Bottles as Guero reached his climax as well, both of them groaning and gasping into each other as they came down from their high. 

Eventually, Guero sat back up, as much as he would’ve liked to pass out in the crook of Bottles’ neck. He licked some of the mess of cum off his hand before he noticed Bottles staring. “Did you want some?” 

“Fuck off,” Bottles said, rolling his eyes.

After tucking his dick back into his pants, Guero removed himself from Bottles' lap, sitting beside him as they caught their breath—stretching his back as he settled down. It was probably a bad idea to stay hunched over like that for so long. He could notice Bottles stretching out his legs, too. Though, he couldn't say he regretted it. 

The windows were fogged up, as well. Guero couldn’t say he was surprised. 

They sat like that for some time, staring forward at the trunk door of the van, both of them trying to come up with something to say that wouldn’t make it too awkward. Or, at least more awkward than they assumed the other person thought it was. Neither of them could find anything they liked. 

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Guero started after a while, turning over to face Bottles, who was putting on his slightly foggy glasses. Its casualness cut through the silence like a knife. 

“Yeah?—” Bottles attempted to respond before being cut off with an oddly tender kiss. 

“Could you drive us back?”

[dindjarindiaries]

Din Djarin & Grogu in The Mandalorian #5

[wikiangela]

just found out my parents have their wedding rings engraved with each others names, date of the wedding, and a "forever" in front of each other's names and im 🥹🥹🥹

when i think their relationship cant get any cuter istg, they're literally relationship goals for me istg 🤣

[swordmaid]

this dialogue path im so 😭😭🤭🤭