#could even be herbert

[mezucore]

just watched lisa frankenstein. the danbert parallels grabbed me by the throat so here we are

[friendcrumbs]

once again thinking abt my delusional conviction that i could have defended herbert in court well enough for him to get 10-15 years at most. with the possibilty of parole.

[mariocki]

RIP Rachel Herbert (5.1.1935 - 7.3.2025)

"[On speaking a fictional language in The Prisoner:] It gives you - not to have words, which people know the meaning of - it actually gives you an added power because you're putting all your meaning through something which they don't know [...] What they receive is the impetus of what you're doing, so what you're putting over is what you feel, what you mean, it doesn't matter about the word-meaning, that's not there anymore. It's quite fun. In a way."

[holofizz]

my distraction for today.

If I tried to flesh it out I'd lose track on everything else I'm supposed to be doing...

[daxwormzz]

Posting oc art but you ALSO get the baron. Yeah that’s right you have to look at my art of Vladimir Harkonnen.

[necromancy-savant]

I have a fun question for you all: what's the worst movie that you love despite how objectively bad it is?

[its-kinda-snowy]

Your reanimator work is so lovely and I am finally blessed with Dan content. I love that white man so much I need to study him like a bug. So thank you for providing me with the delightful and delicious art, I will be thinking about A Dog and His Man for a hot minute now . ~💖 from @the-void-birb

sorry for taking eons to reply to this, ngl I just kept coming back to your ask and giggling, twirling my feet, etc

And yes! There is never enough Dan appreciation; like honestly what a character he is. Imho Dan's arc throughout the films is rlly what makes them so compelling compared to many of its contemporaries. Like, what other horror movie is going to have its central character devolve into the pseudo-antagonist in such a way that also proves the antagonist right?? Wonderfull, showstoping, no notes

[vampyr-bite]

i don’t understand why people making ‘dune is bad because of cultural appropriation’ posts also tell people that it doesn’t matter when the plot is explained to them because like. the plot is that the cultural appropriators are the bad guys? that fundamentally changes everything, no? a white guy quite literally declares himself the messiah on a planet that has been exploited for decades because it is home to a valuable resource. the white people in the film are the americans and arrakis is the middle east and the spice is oil (i know the book was written in the 60s so this wasn’t the analogy that the author had in mind but if the shoe fits…). they appropriate the culture to win them over. you’re upset that jessica is wearing ‘muslim’ clothing, but she is doing so to pretend to be one with them so that they will more easily accept her son as ruler over them. it’s not a white saviour narrative - paul doesn’t save them he commits a genocide. like. how does this not make a difference to how you view it?

[sunny-honeytears]

...dont mind me...im just leaving this here..

[overly-hubristic-mad-scientist]

ok so given everything went well the the Bride’s Reanimation what exactly did Dan decide to do? Because while he did agree to her creation with the agreement that she would be his replacement Meg, she’s not she has a different brain and based on what we saw a different personality what will Dan’s reaction be if she’s not what he originally wanted? Will he get discontent and look for happiness elsewhere like he did with Herbert? Will he resent her for not being Meg? Even if she was similar enough for him there’s no guarantee that she would love him back, which is extremely understandable since he is essentially her parent. What if the Bride just isn’t into Dan at all and just wants a dad? Will he leave? Will he blame her? Will he blame Herbert? Will he just lose it and try to inflict harm (he’s not emotionally stable especially not when it comes to romance) I’m kinda curious to know what will happen

[a-pigeons-soliloquy]

gnawing on the bars of my enclosure at that Will Salieri art btw. i don't know ANYONE else in this fandom who knows that musical 😭

omg another person who knows mozart l'opera rock???? hello!!!!!!!!!! so happy that there's at least two of us lol

[escapaldi]

This is why I have a difficult time believing that "saying bad things about our Founding Fathers is a terrible thing" or "don't speak ill of the dead" however that sentiment gets packaged. You can't just say that they were "complex like anyone" and leave it at that as the most in-depth you get. It's not cancel culture or purity culture or whatever to discuss the inherent and vast double standard of these rich WASPy men talking about freedom and rights for only them while on stolen land that was built on the backs of slaves and managed by their wives, all while propping up lies that was only taken as supposed fact because it helped bolster their mentality and way of life. Any time someone mentions even part of this in a discussion about American history, some doofus rises from whatever comfortable suburban lifestyle swamp they're in to harp about how cancel/purity culture is killing us as a nation. We're still talking about them. They're not cancelled. We're just at the point now where we can and want to have dialogue so that we aren't worshipping these people like false idols in the manner every American history textbook for generations has done.

You want to know what are applications of cancel/purity culture that are actually harmful? Not discussing how many people were around before the initial permanent European settlements in North America and why so few of their descendants remain. Not talking about slavery in this nation was waaay different from the Roman slavery the class learned about last semester in World History and not in a good way (understatement). Not acknowledging how there are active people alive in 2023 who are older than not only the Voting Rights Act of 1965(my mom is older than this!!!) but also the 19th Amendment (1920!!!) of all things. Not contextualizing why LGBT+ people only seem to exist in larger numbers recently, and allowed to grow old and proud and out for only the past ten or so years. Not breaking down how the Puritans wrote their own version of history where they were unjustly persecuted and downtrodden and that's part of why our country is the way it is, where people have gotten this far in spite of it all. That is harmful cancel culture. That is focus on purity. That is why we have such knee-jerk reactions from people learning the truth and creating shit like cancel culture and purity culture and whatever other fucking reactive culture there is revolving being disgusted at truths that should have never been hidden from anyone.

There are so many things that get purposefully left out of conversations because it's perceived as "cancelling" the established narrative and might cause kids learning about it to be sad or feel guilty. Guess what? These things fill in important gaps for reasoning, motivation, and context, and those sad kids? They are sad because they're learning how to empathize and that they never want shit like this to happen ever again. Guilt is only there when they've participated, and why might children feel guilty then if this all is in the past? Before they were even born? The only way we'll move towards the nation that was promised to us through history and civics courses is by recognizing these deep flaws and teaching that to the next generations so they won't be stuck on the "glory" of the past. If instead of breaking down these old paradigms for a more complete and truer history you want to prop up these sterile lies fill of denial and erasure, what are you really advocating? That the nation we were all promised is the biggest lie in of itself? Hmm... I wonder why that could be... (.-.)

We have to tell the truth. From the beginning. All of us do. The responsibility has been riding on the backs of the marginalized for far too long. And the easiest way to do that is to teach actual history.

[ozmosiis]

re watching reanimator and it's just like. dude. dan isnt even just 'down bad' for herbert, no, hes down lower than hell for herbert. he watched herbert shove a syringe full of green glowstick juice into a corpse (not to mention dan checked it out), saw it sit up, and immediately MURDER his fiances dad, and still said 'mmm yeah gonna stick around' like dan isnt even enabling herberts behavior. hes actively supporting it. herbert, at 3am, could whisper in his ear, "daniel lets commit medical atrocities together" and dans already getting his shoes on. he never signed up for science but by god did he sign up for that evil twink

[holofizz]

Not only is Herbert completely unfazed by these guys, that latex glove snap delivers more sass than they could ever hope to achieve. Not even prison can break this man.

[alchemistc]

"I am not packing your kitchen, Buck," Maddie says with a hard set to her jaw and a hand planted on her hip, and Evan sends her a warning look over his shoulder, elbow deep in packing tape and half-folded boxes. Tommy is clearly missing something.

"You found the ring cutter in there with the ladles too, huh?" Snipes Eddie from somewhere in the vicinity of the bathroom, and before Tommy can get a firm grasp on that Eddie's tipping his head back through the open doorway. "C'mon guys, seriously, you didn't pack this shit up before you forced us all to help you pack?" There's an unopened tube of lube in his hand.

"I'm getting things off of walls and that is all, Evan Buckley," comes Maddie's quick rejoinder, and Buck levels them both with a look.

"That could be for normal stuff! Sometimes rings need cutting! Sometimes you need to - lubricate other things!"

It is, of course, the moment Bobby wanders through the unlocked door.

Tommy's still familiar with the cadence of Hen and Howie, ribbing and mocking a form of endearment for them both, so he's not exactly shocked when Bobby just rolls with it and starts listing off the last fifteen calls they've needed it for. None of those things particularly improve the red rising up Evan's cheekbones, but Tommy catches the grin Bobby's hiding while he sets boxes of pizza up at the kitchen table, cleared of the latest seasonal decor Evan had dragged him through three different department stores to find, not that he could be bothered to care when the very existence of them was all it took to shift Maddie's opinion of him from tolerantly friendly to encouragingly approving.

("This loft was a minimalists wet dream before you were in the picture," she'd told him one evening, after she'd manipulated him into admitting he was terrified this didn't mean the same thing to Evan as it did to him. "He started nesting a month after my wedding, Tommy.")

And now they're here. Watching Evan pretend to be miffed by the teasing while he fights a roll of packing tape.

He's going to miss the upstairs shower, wide enough for two grown men to fit more than comfortably; and the balcony on cooler nights when he could tempt Evan out for a slow dance set to the late-evening traffic; the kitchen island at the perfect height to lift Evan onto and tilt his head up for an angled kiss.

He won't miss the open plan that makes it impossible to do much of anything with a snoring Eddie right below them, the tuba player two doors down who only seems to practice the moment Tommy's head meets the pillow at the end of any random days-long shift, the way the elevator always smells like tuna on Thursday afternoons.

There are things he won't have to miss, of course. Evan, on nights when they just can't make their schedules align well enough to justify the drive time. The extra fluffy towel set Evan had refused to reveal the origin of ("You'll buy your own and leave me, I know you're only with me for my towels."). The pictures plastered to the fridge that Tommy's spent the last few weeks plotting out space for on his own before deciding he'd need a new fridge just to fit them all. The plant he'd bought Evan to appease the grump, the first time he'd dragged him to the farmers market at the ass crack of dawn, lovingly named Herbert. The fancy adjustable bedside lamps Evan had bought the last time he'd caught Tommy squinting down his reading glasses at the book in his hands. Evan.

Christ, he wouldn't have to miss Evan anymore. They'd synched up their schedules more or less as well as they could, but Tommy's spent months now trying to ignore how quickly a sleepless night could turn restful with Evan in his bed - how fitful a night without him there had a habit of being.

Most of the loft is already packed. Evan's wardrobe has been dwindling for weeks now, a box at a time carted from the back of the Jeep up Tommy's drive, through the mud room, down the hall and straight to the closet that had never seen such a shock of color or variety of fabric. They'd sprung for a bigger mattress, once they'd gotten over the sticker shock and remembered how much they'd be saving by paying half a mortgage each with no rent to speak of, and other than the kitchen table most of Evan's other furniture was being donated.

All that really remained were the kitchen supplies Evan hadn't been willing to move until he handed over his keys, a few toiletries, a single drawer of clothes just in case he needed them. Pictures on the walls and stacks of books on the bookshelves - half a decade of life lived in this apartment and most of it was already half unboxed and slowly integrating into the fifteen years Tommy had put into his own solitary life.

Evan finishes taping boxes and makes a beeline for his itemized list, and Tommy has to pretend it's giving him as much grief as Evan's sister and best friend to see the clipboard in action. He's not entirely sure how well he sells it, when even Bobby's shooting him aggrieved looks only to grimace at whatever he finds in Tommy's expression.

And just like that, an hour passes and the pizza disappears; the boxes are loaded into the back of his truck; the kitchen table in Eddie's; and Maddie tugs her brother in for a hug, drags Tommy in for good measure too, kisses them both on the cheek as she leaves; Bobby tucks a wooden box filled with handwritten recipes on note cards into Evan's hand and Tommy pretends not to notice either of their teary eyes; Eddie hefts a six pack out of the otherwise empty fridge and promises to meet them at the house in forty-five.

There's still one picture stuck to the fridge - a candid from the first barbeque Athena and Bobby had hosted after their move, Tommy and Evan backlit by a setting sun, tucked up against each other leaned against a porch railing, and Tommy knuckles at it while Evan does a slow introspective spin to take in the wide expanse of windows and brick. He's still staring when Evan finishes and drifts towards him, hands tucking in at Tommy's waist, chin hooking over his shoulder.

"Is this one staying?"

Evan shakes his head, nose digging into the side of Tommy's neck. "Just wanted to keep it out so it could be the first one we put up."

He remembers the night. Karen had gotten him drunk and added him to the wives group chat. May Grant had stolen half his slice of cake right off his plate and dared him to protest. Jee had spent the entire night calling him Uncle Tommy and thrown a massive fit when she realized he wasn't going home with her to read a bedtime story. Christopher and Denny had spent half an hour trying to teach him how to play Fortnite and then been mystified when he trounced them in Mario Kart. He knows exactly why it's significant to him. "Why this one?" he asks, curving into the cradle of Evan's arms.

Evan's so much better with words than Tommy is, and Tommy's just grateful Evan takes his actions for the things he means with them. "That's the night I knew what our something was gonna be," Evan murmurs, and Tommy tips his chin back and angles his head to catch Evan's lips against his own.

[joeyfranchise]

got me thinkin’ nonsense

justin herbert x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content. 18+ only. oral (f. receiving), dumbification ;)

word count: 2.3k.

note: hello i am once again having brainrot about justin 😋 and so is maja because this is another idea we’ve talked about extensively. love youuuu @joeyburrrow 😮‍💨

to put it plainly - you were having a horrible day.

it started unexpectedly after you’d taken nearly an hour in the morning to curl your hair perfectly, only to be met with a downpour of rain outside that left it limp and wet.

when you got to the office the strap of your bag broke and it dropped off your arm, leaving the contents to skitter across the floor of the lobby. your coworker— and quite possibly the bane of your existence— katherine helped you pick up your things before scurrying off to her desk a little too cheerily.

you sat through meeting after boring meeting, listening to your bosses babble on and to katherine’s incessant interruptions, adding her two cents to everything they said.

as you left your last meeting your foot caught the door frame on the way out and you toppled over into the hall, falling right into your bosses back. your weight crashing into him sent him straight into the wall on the other side of the hallway and you began to apologize profusely.

you stood and extended your hand to help him, sheepishly gazing down at him. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he declined your hand, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants.

“be more careful,” he sneered, before walking briskly down the hall.

you headed back to your desk and gathered your things, beyond ready to get home and spend the evening underneath your duvet without any other care in the world, just waiting for justin to get home.

you grabbed your things and headed to the parking lot, and since your bag was broken you ended up just throwing all your belongings in the passenger seat before driving home, eager to strip your clothes and lie in bed.

unfortunately, your bad luck didn’t end when you left the office. you hit every red light on the way home and only narrowly avoided being rear-ended by some teenager who was too focused on texting, which left you feeling like you could rip your hair out.

finally though, you made it home. you didn’t bother to grab anything from your car to bring inside other than your keys and phone. you trudged up the steps as the weight of the day continued bearing down on you, but you were shocked when the door swung open before you could get your key anywhere near the lock.

you weren’t expecting justin to be home so soon.

he stood there with open arms, inviting you into his much larger frame for a much needed hug. you stepped forward and let him wrap you in his embrace, inhaling his scent as he squeezed you.

“welcome home!” he cheerfully greeted, and you looked up at him with a half-smile. justin immediately sensed your unease and ushered you into the house, leading you to the couch before helping you to sit back. he placed your phone and keys on the coffee table as you settled into the pillows and propped your head up. justin knelt on the floor to take off your shoes for you.

you weren’t sure why he always did that as soon as he knew you had a bad day, because you both hated feet and the idea of touching them or anything of that sort, but it was most likely just his way of trying to comfort you. he wanted you to see he was there for anything and everything you needed.

“tough day?” he questioned, sliding himself a bit closer to your frame. he sat on the floor and leaned over so his elbows rested on your thighs as he propped his head in his hands. “mhm,” you answered, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. you hadn’t noticed until now that he still had his hair pushed back with the thin headband he often wore at practice. you found it slightly suspicious… but you were unsure why.

“want me to help you feel better?” he asked softly, his big hands now smoothing over your legs. you opened your eyes and looked down at him, a mischievous glint twinkled in his eye.

“what idea do you have cooking up?” you ask him, curious to hear what he has to say.

“well,” he starts, sitting up straighter so he can lean over you properly, “practice was long and boring today, but i was thinking about you the whole time. i missed you a lot… and knowing you had a bad day, i think i know what might help…” he teases, and then presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

your lips follow his as he deepens the kiss, and you shudder as his hands slide underneath your shirt, his warm touch leaving goosebumps behind. he breaks away from the kiss to speak to you, but not before peppering gentle kisses to the corners of your mouth and your cheeks.

“here’s the plan,” he says, as his fingers begin working the button of your jeans, “you’re gonna tell me all about your bad day, and while you talk i’m gonna eat you out, sound good?”

your eyes widen at his forwardness. justin usually isn’t one to lay it out so plainly and you’re a bit taken aback by his suddenness. “….okay,” you agree, and justin laughs at your reluctance. “i told you i missed you today,” he smirks. you let him undo your pants and pull them down your legs along with your panties, tossing both to the side.

you stifle back a giggle as they wrap around a lamp you have standing in the corner, the force of justin’s throw leaving it wobbling.

you look down at him in amusement and he laughs too before quickly switching his mood, suddenly turning serious. “okay, start talking. and if you stop, i stop.”

his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you down the couch a little farther so that you’ll both be in a comfortable position as he moves back to his knees on the floor.

he leans into you and holds your legs open before blowing a cool stream of air onto your already wet core. his nose rubs against your clit softly before he licks a long, languid stripe up your center. when he makes no further move you remember you’re supposed to be talking, but you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to even form words… you still try anyway.

“i… i woke up super early to c-curl my hair, and… the rain made it fall immediately,” you whine, arching forward as he rolls his tongue lazily over your clit. he makes a sound against your core that you can only assume is sympathetic, and the vibration sends shockwaves through you. your fingers tangle through his hair as you hold him close to you, afraid to let this moment end so soon.

“and then… when i got to work my bag broke and… all m-my shit fell all over the - fuck - all over the lobby,” you manage to squeak out. he shakes his head from side to side as you talk before slowly pressing two fingers into your dripping center and curling them upward. a drawn out moan falls from your lips as he uses his hand and his mouth in tandem, pulling you close to the edge in such a short time.

his other hand smooths over the flesh of your leg before he draws it back and places a sharp smack against the meat of your thigh. you barely notice the stinging pain as your body lurches forward, your back arches, and you continue pressing your core to his eager tongue and lips.

he lifts his head to look at you and the sight of him almost has your eyes rolling back. his hair is messy from the grip you’ve had on it but the thin white headband stays in place, holding his hair away from his eyes. the bottom half of his face is coated with spit and your slick, his mischievous eyes find yours and he winks at you. “i didn’t tell you to stop talking, baby. keep telling me about your day, or i’ll stop, too.”

“fuck, okay… katherine was annoying me all day, she wouldn’t shut the fuck up in any of the meetings,” you tell him, and he looks up at you again to mutter a soft “fuck katherine,” before he’s diving into your folds again. you giggle at his words, he’s being unusually crude today.

his fingers are pumping in and out of you twice as fast now and you’re scrambling to gather your thoughts, but god you didn’t want him to stop. he hooks his fingers and presses them upward, hitting you in just the right spot as he continues sucking on your clit, bobbing his head back and forth.

it’s getting harder and harder to formulate your thoughts, you still have to tell him about running into your boss, but you can’t make the words come out. instead, all you manage to squeak out is a weak moan of his name as you tug at his hair again.

“justinnnnnn,” you whine, the pleasure now seeping through your body, you can feel it in your thighs, calves and toes. he laughs against you, and all you can think is what a cheeky fucker.

he looks up again at you, hair and eyes wild. “that can’t be all, baby,” he teases. his pupils are blown wide and you know he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. you shake your head in response and place your palms flat on the couch so you can use them to push your body forward, fucking yourself on his now still fingers.

“was that it? or am i just fucking you stupid?”

and there it was.

his admission that he missed you may have been true, but something happened on that field today that triggered this side of justin, one you rarely got to see. he was always ready and willing to take care of you, and he wasn’t being malicious at the moment, but something had to have happened today to make him talk to you with a bit of bite - not that you were complaining.

“keep talking,” he commanded, and although it wasn’t the angriest you’ve ever heard him, it was enough to make you listen. “i- i tripped on the - fuck - the fucking door frame and fell straight into my boss. and he wouldn’t even let m-me…” you hiccup, another whine falling from your lips as he curls his digits into your g-spot again.

“justin, please,” you beg, continuing to grind on his face and fingers. you lift your head to look down and him and you find him focused, eyes closed as he works on bringing you pleasure. for a moment you think you’re in the clear until his big hand brings down another harsh smack on your thigh. it takes everything in you to start talking again.

“he wouldn’t even let me help him up. and th-then all the lights on the way home were red and - jesus christ - some teenager almost rear-ended me. and that’s all justin, please,” you finally manage, the rasp of your voice even shocks you. you sound completely fucked out yet full of lust, and for some reason you like it. justin does too.

he continues working you closer and closer to the edge as your repeat his name like a mantra, followed by moans and curses and any other sound that claws its way from your throat. justin can feel you tightening around his fingers and he loves it, he loves knowing he can bring you to your peak so quickly like this.

he pulls away from your core one final time, looking you in the eyes as he speaks. “don’t you love it when you’re getting fucked so good you can only remember my name? you sound a little dumb, baby.”

his tongue is on you again in an instant and your brain feels like it’s being scrambled in your head. you’d admitted to justin one night during a drunken romp that you wanted him to be rougher with you, to sling you around sometimes, to call you names.

usually he was a gentle giant, and god, he always got you there. the sex was never boring, but this really took the cake. before you knew it you were cumming all over his fingers unabashedly, not caring whether the couch would be stained from your remnants or not. all that mattered in this moment was justin, which you knew was exactly what he wanted.

he helped you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of you, and without thinking, he wiped them off on the leg of his pants. his eyes met yours again and you could tell he was feeling nervous, he wanted to know how he did.

“you’ll have to give me three to five business days to recover from that one,” you giggle, your chest heaving as you catch your breath.

“i hoped that helped you some,” he said, leaning across your body and wrapping his arms around your torso. “it did, but what got into you?” you questioned, his boldness something you weren’t so used to seeing.

“got pissed off at practice, it was stupid. we can talk about it later,” he sighs, leaning his head against your neck. “i think i know a way i can get you to talk,” you tease, and both of you laugh. justin squeezes you into a hug before pulling off you and standing up, extending an arm to gesture toward the hall.

“sounds like a fine treat, m’lady,” he jokes, pretending to tip a hat to you. “but first, hit the showers!”

you giggle as you stand on gelatin legs and try to walk past him, only to be met with weak knees as he smacks your ass harshly. he scoops you up bridal style and rushes down the hall, both of you eager to get to the story of justin’s bad day.

photos and dividers are not mine, cred to owners.

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