#that we are getting a sequel

[lily-s-world]

[r0semultiverse]

The code at the end of the credits in the FNAF movie spells "COME FIND ME" btw for those without captions.

[zephyrchama]

Belphegor followed you down the hall as you dragged your suitcase. It wasn’t very big, but it was still heavy and annoying to lug over the thick decorative carpets. Every time one came to an end, the luggage thudded loudly back onto the hardwood floor.

“You sure you have everything? You packed the pillow I gave you?” Belphegor sluggishly matched his pace to yours. Having long legs must be nice.

“Of course, I triple checked.” ”Good. That’s my fifth favorite pillow, so you have to come back and return it, ok?”

You nodded as the suitcase went over another bump. This was your third time going over this exact conversation.

It wasn’t just the youngest, all of the brothers were antsy about your little trip. It was written all over their faces as you arrived at the foyer where they were waiting. Satan and Asmodeus solemnly stood up from the steps they were sitting on. Mammon and Leviathan had a hard time looking at you, their eyes darted all over the walls and ceiling. Beelzebub offered to move your suitcase by the door.

Just one weekend away. That was it. Solomon volunteered to take you back to the human world for a bit. You couldn't let a rare trip home pass by, as who knew when the next opportunity would arise. You could eat some normal food for once and stock up on your favorite human things. Though, your housemates reacted like you were leaving for a year.

“Did you pack everything?” Lucifer asked.

“Of course, I triple checked.” Deja-vu.

“Even the lotion I gave you?” Asmodeus looked so worried. He loosely took hold of your forearm with a tear in his eye. “Don’t forget, the sun is awful this time of year. I’ll never forgive you if you come back looking like a lobster.”

“Asmo, I won’t.” You grinned at his silly concern and leaned in for a hug. Asmodeus did not disappoint.

Everyone else took a step forward, hoping for a hug of their own, as Asmodeus breathed into your ear, “I’ll be waiting.”

“You have my number. If anything goes wrong, call me.” Lucifer sounded so reliable as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

There were half a dozen chimes of “mine, too!” and “same here!”

You’d been away for longer trips. How in the world did these guys survive for so many millennia before you met them? You turned to look at Lucifer, wanting to counter that Devildom phones didn’t even work in the human world, but he probably knew that already.

"Don't talk to strangers," he reminded, "and don't go out alone at night. Some humans are worse than demons." He wrapped his arms around you and wished “safe travels.”

Mammon stepped up next. He forced himself to stare at you, haughtily playing off the sadness he was really feeling. His bottom lip jutted out a little more than usual. “Well! You’ll bring me back a good souvenir, right?”

“Oh? I don’t know, I might not have time…” It was playful banter, yet your words shocked him. Mammon’s eyes widened. He began stammering and gripped your fingers. You quickly performed damage control, “Joking! I’m joking, Mammon. Of course I’ll get you a souvenir.”

The younger siblings piped up, “us too!”

“I’m getting everyone souvenirs, don’t worry!” You already had a few gift ideas in mind.

Mammon put his forehead on your shoulder and a hand on your back that he rubbed. “But mine’ll be the best. I trust ya.”

“Don’t let Solomon give you any food he cooks,” Beelzebub warned. “Actually, don’t let Solomon give you any food. Ever.” He tried to give you a lumpy-looking cloth bag, no doubt filled with homemade treats to take with you. It smelled scrumptious. Only issue was, the bag was half your size.

“Beel, there’s food in the human world. I can’t take all this, why don’t you enjoy it with your brothers?”

Beelzebub frowned, setting aside his present. It tilted under the weight of its own contents. You felt a slight pang of guilt, but how could you carry it all? That much food could last you a week.

He picked you up for his hug, your toes dangling several inches off the floor until he gently set you back down. Belphegor caught you as you regained your footing.

His hug was simple and cozy. He tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. “Don’t forget about my pillow.”

You suspected that if you ever actually tried to run away, these seven would go to the ends of the three realms to find you.

Satan nudged your luggage, observing the way it slided forward an inch. It was heavy to you, but clearly not them. “That’s really all you’re bringing? Do you have enough clothes?”

“Yes! You helped me pack!” The repetition was really starting to grate on you. Things were never this crazy when one of them had to leave the house for a few days. They wouldn't even care unless somebody went mysteriously unseen for over a week. “You all know I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be back in two days.”

“Hey, how come Satan got to help you pack?” Mammon complained.

“We did too,” Belphegor said, his twin in agreement.

“It was a group effort,” according to Asmodeus.

Mammon crossed his arms. "No way! You let these guys see your underwear?"

Satan ignored them. “Do you want another book for the road?”

“I’ll be fine.” You gave Satan his hug. After letting go, his fingers hovered by your side. “We’re teleporting there anyway. I don’t think there’ll be time to read anything.”

One suspiciously quiet demon in the back stared at the floor. “Two days,” he sighed. Leviathan did a poor job of hiding how upset he was.

“Levi, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“Yes!?” His head jerked up, met your gaze, and looked down again.

“I can’t leave until I get a full set of hugs from everyone,” you admitted. “I’m missing a very valuable part of the collection.”

Asmodeus and Mammon readily offered themselves for a second go. Leviathan’s cheeks flushed with envy and he grabbed you a little roughly, squishing his face into your shoulder. “You’ll take lots of pictures? A-and you won’t forget about us?”

You scoffed, “how could I forget about you? We’re bound together by a pact, aren’t we?” As for photos… you didn't know what would be interesting, but it couldn't hurt to take a bunch anyway.

Lucifer cleared his throat, signaling to Leviathan it was time to let go. "I miss you already," he muttered.

The seven of them followed you out of the house and down to the House of Lamentation’s front gate. It was like having a school of fish circling you. You could call it a miracle they weren't following you onto the main road, but if they went that far you knew they'd unreasonably demand Solomon take them along too.

“It’s just one weekend!” you reiterated. “Take care, you guys.”

They peered at you through the fence bars, waving when you glanced over. It was a sad sight, and possible attempt to make you come rushing back. If it was this bad already, you didn't want to think about how they'd act if you were going away for one week.

[louismoncher]

Nell Tiger Free credits the performance of Isabelle Adjani in Andrzej Żuławski's Possession as inspiration for her physical acting in The First Omen [2024].

We didn’t have a choreographer, we didn’t have any rehearsal—we didn’t actually know what the fuck was going to happen. Nobody really know, most of all me! All I had was this reference from this one movie, [Andrzej Żuławski 1981 horror classic] Possession. I watched that clip. It was maybe two minutes long. It was somewhere in Northern Italy, and honestly—I wish I had a more interesting answer—but I truly just did it and hoped for the best! We had two takes. It was weird, this feminist rage took over me. We spend so much time being told to look pretty, perfect, beautiful, put-together, attractive. To be asked to do the exact opposite, to be as free with your body as you possibly can… I mean, I was barking, at one point! All the rage in my body came out. Funnily enough, the only people that walked off set were the men. Scaring grown men has become a bit of kink of mine. [Laughs.]

[skiaskai]

Mr. The Stampede

[idsfantasy]

I tried to learn to mimic The Fairly Oddparents artstyle specifically for this drawing (while also fudging some things to be more comfortable for my own drawing style lol). I'm pretty happy with how it turned off though! Especially Cosmo. I think I actually did a good job with Cosmo

Original image below cut, and shout out to @msnihilist for the drawing prompt! I hope it meets your expectation o7

[yrsonpurpose]

Happy One Month of Red, White & Royal Blue! ♡ 11.08.2023 ♡

[dreamofcamelot]

Someone contact the bbc I have Merlin season 6 right here

[tangerine-brooks]

i hate it HATE IT so much when asoiaf fans go "grrm finish the fucking books already" and "lmao we'll never get twow" and "what if grrm dies and doesn't finish the story" and if i see this shit one more time i'll start biting people, because SHUT UP LET HIM COOK let him take his time!! this is so mean-spirited like here's the author that gave us so so many wonderful heartwrenshing captivating profoundly human stories but instead of being supportive and grateful you bitch and moan about how long it takes him to write more???

people on tumblr make such long post that analyze every word in these books, because literally every word is so thought-out it's either a foreshadowing or a subtle but real reflection of the pov character's constantly evolving inner life or has some otherwise deeper meaning to it; and the same thoughtfulness goes for every chapter, every plot point, every character interaction! and then the same people wonder why it takes grrm so long to write it?? seriously??

and if you ever attempted to write anything real and sincere you know that it doesn't come easy. and all the emotional complexity and depths that make characters feel so human and their struggles so real peaking at "ned loves my hair" and "i dreamed of you" and "he wondered what it's like to have a home" and every line that is so simple but so sharp and raw it makes me wanna pull my hair scream cry sob throw up - none of it comes easy!! it takes time and effort and emotional work to write like this! of course it takes long!

not to mention that grrm's in his seventies and likely has some health issues that take time and energy to manage and that he doesn't mention publically because why would he? ALSO when you get older you tend to get tired more easily! and need more time to rest! like, that's why people usually retire in their sixties. but grrm keeps working! ALSO have you never experienced a burn out or a creative block after years of working on the same thing??

ALSO one of asoiaf's main theme is that any person in any circumstances deserves empathy and understanding!!

so while we all are waiting for next books it's so important to show our amazing beloved author respect and support and gratitude! all say thank you, thank you george rr martin and please take care and take your time!!

[simping-acefully]

"Better Luck Next Time"

Laios Touden/Reader Not poofread, I blacked out and this was on my phone notes. English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes No warnings 600 ish words?

You took out the small notebook out of your apron pocket and braced yourself to go to the table where your regulars had just taken a seat. You couldn't help but stare in spite of yourself. You were capable of appreciating a handsome face, and Laios was rather dashing. In fact, if he would slow down on his rambling, you'd almost want to ask him out. Almost.

There was a certain charm to him, he carried himself with grace and had gained a certain reputation over time- After all, the Touden siblings were an odd pair. You had served them before, they seemed nice enough. Decent tippers, polite. Almost too educated to be mere gold peelers. You had been tempted to ask, but everyone had their own reasons to enter the dungeon.

Now, in the perceived privacy of their table, Laios Touden was happily chatting his sister's ear off, talking about monsters and ghosts. Falin had a dopey grin on her face, matching her brother's energy effortlessly and adding observations of her own in regards to the nature of ghosts, unnerving the nearby patrons.

With an amused huff, you walked towards the oblivious troublemakers and interrupted them by clearing your throat and flashing them your best customer service smile. "Welcome to the Laughing Wolf, what can I get you?"

The knight seemed to jump within his armor seemingly taken completely off-guard by your presence- His posture shifted from relaxed to stiff, back straight as ramrod. The cleric, on the other hand, gave you a placid smile. "Ah, it's the Baraselia lady!"

You blinked owlishly at the bizarre nickname. "Pardon?"

Falin simply tilted her head and pointed at her own head, around the place where your updo was. Your hand reflexively reaches out to the side of your head, grazing the hairpin that held your bun together, and the flower charm that hung from it. "Is that what this is?"

The woman simply turned to look at her brother, your gaze shifted to follow hers. Poor Laios seemed to be shaking in his seat, face beet-red. "They are a… A plant in the dungeon. They trap things and use them as fertilizer and are strong enough to crush bone…"

"Huh?- Is that a good thing?" You took off the pin, hair cascading free as you brought the item in front of you and scrutinized the delicate ceramic flower charm. You hadn't given it much thought when you bought it, in all honesty. It just was a cute white flower with purple accents.

"Yes!" The knight startled you out of your trance with his zealous response. "It's beautiful and strong, and it's… It does- That is…"

You never thought you'd see the oldest Touden so flustered, much less when it came to talking the inhabitants of the dungeon. He was, after all, known to be enamoured by monsters and rather oblivious- To the point he would infodump any bystander that showed an iota of interest on monsters.

Your brow furrowed in concern. "Are you feeling okay? You look…off. Are you sick?" The thought made your chest tighten. These siblings were already wearing clothes in such a rough state, they didn't seem like they could afford proper medical care. "Hang on! I'll whip you up something."

And with that, you stormed away, slamming your little notebook shut and shoving it inside your apron's pocket.

Once you were out of sight, Laios' body slumped, not unlike a puppet getting its strings cut, face first into the table "Hnngg".

His frustrated (and rather pathetic) whine elicited a small chuckle from Falin, who gave her brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

[sabrocha]

elaine benes with a snapback (backwards), white tee, and leather jacket in s7

[sincenewyorks]

do y’all think they’re in love or something?

[spoopy-arcade]

Won't you help the lonely kitten?

I am out there, out there somewhere.

[dbarenzu626]

Happy "Ultraman: Rising" launch weekend!! 💥

So, if you don't know, I'm a bit of a connoisseur of tokusatsu and I've been no spring chicken when it comes to Ultraman. It all started with me... as far back as 4Kids' lame and incomplete dub of "Ultraman Tiga". Yeah, I started there, but of course, from then and there onward, I've dipped my toes into more of the franchise's works. From R/B to even a classic dubbed version of the 1960s show from DVD sets I got from my aunt, I've done what I could to open my eyes to what Eiji Tsuburaya brought to the world of Japanese pop culture.

Now, on Friday this weekend, I decided to double up and watch "Shin Ultraman" and this new work. On one side, Shin was a simply incredible love song to Eiji's work prior, but in Rising's case? I wasn't prepared for how emotionally charged Rising's whole story would be and how impressive the whole effort would shine through. You don't even need to have any knowledge of the Tsuburaya franchise to watch this film, "Ultraman: Rising" is a super fun effort with a lovely cast, a strong theme of family and parenthood and topped off with incredible animation courtesy of Industrial Light and Magic.

So! With how much this film charmed me, I drew up Emi and Ultraman/Ken Sato after a bit of a turbulent two months IRL prior, as a means to get myself back on my art wagon... look, motive aside, it was Emi's idea, okay? 🤣

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

What’s for Breakfast?

(yes it’s the parsnip fic)

(tw mentioned nightmares and mildly dissociation)

disclaimer: this will probably be ooc, i’m still extremely new to the fandom so be nice please

description: jason decides to cook and is interrupted by the rest of the bat siblings.

word count: 1556

All he came here to do was drop off some intel for Bruce but now? Now Jason is standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, with his hands on his hips, wondering what he should cook. He’s hungry, alright, sue him.

It’s Sunday and Sunday is the day Alfred restocks the kitchen so the chances of Jason actually finding something other than premade pancake mix was not great.

The first ingredient item he finds is a few parsnips. He passes one between his hands trying to think of what he can make with them. After a few seconds he comes up with something, tossing the parsnips onto the counter and he collects some onions, a leek, flour, eggs and vegetable oil. He gets the grater out and it’s decided. He’s gonna make parsnip and onion fritters.

Jason starts with slicing the onion. Just get that shit over and done with. The familiar burn of the onion begins in his eyes and he is immediately reminded of the last time he cooked in here. He was 15, it was a few weeks before his death. He and Alfred were making home made burgers, requested by Jason himself, and they made caramelised onions to go with it.

He’s pulled out of the memory by the wet feeling of tears dripping down onto his hand. He glares down at the vegetable as if it had personally wronged him. And you know what? It did. He’s crying all because of a fucking onion.

He continues slicing only slightly more aggressively when he hears a soft patter of feet.

“Todd?” At the sound of his name he looks up and is met with a sleepy Damian staring back. The kid’s got on a set of cat pyjamas, that Jason can admit is kinda cute, and is wiping away what looks to be tears. Must have had a nightmare or something.

“Cooking.” Jason replied gruffly. Damian approaches the island he’s cooking on and stands on his toes to try and see what Jason is cooking. Once again he can admit the kid looked kinda cute with only just his head and little hands poking over the bench.

“Cooking what?” He asks softly and with genuine childlike curiosity, which is rare for Damian. Jason breathes out a sigh and walks over to the small table on the far side of the kitchen and pulls a chair up against the bench.

“Parsnip and onion fritters. Wash your hands and come grate the parsnips for me.” He usually would tell him to fuck off but the kid looks like he could use a distraction and he does love a mission.

Damian washes his hands, climbs up the chair and starts grating.

They slice and grate mostly in quiet, only breaking the silence to quietly giggle at each other's onion induced tears.

“Cooking?” The sound of a voice startles them both so badly Damian almost throws a parsnip and Jason damn near cuts his finger off. When they look up at the source, Cass is standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“Christ, Cassandra, you could have killed us.” Damian says as he lowers the parsnip. Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Again.” He mutters and doesn’t miss the nasty look Damian throws him. Cass only smirks and shrugs. She looks dishevelled but Jason chooses to ignore it. She wanders over to the island, inspects what they’re doing before sitting on one of the stools and pulling her phone out of her pocket. Jason and Damian share a look before continuing what they were doing.

They finally get through all the slicing and grating when Steph and Tim stumble in looking like they had not slept all week. Jason stops what he’s doing just to look at them judgingly.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” he asks like he doesn’t want to know. Steph groans and collapses into the stool next to Cass.

“We were out all night for a stake out that turned up nothing.” Jason makes a confused face at that and looks to Tim who is all but dragging himself to the coffee machine.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” He says holding a hand up to block out Jason’s judgmental look. Stake outs like that happen, not often but they happen. But for Tim? It’s even less often, he gathers all the intel he can before going out. Make sense for his mood to be shit.

Jason can practically sense Damian is about to say something so he scoops him up by the armpits and places him onto the ground.

“Your jobs done now.” He tells him before the kid can protest. He only receives a slightly grumpy nod before Damian drags the chair back to its regular spot and sits down. Tim looks away from the coffee machine.

“Are you making breakfast?” He asks half judgy half genuine. Jason almost responds with some snarky sarcasm but just looking at Tim tells him the poor guy's exhausted brain would probably melt if he did.

“Yeah I am. Parsnip and onion fritters.”

Steph lifts her head from where it was laying against the kitchen island.

“What the fuck is a parsnip?” Jason chuckles and holds up one of the unused parsnips.

“It's like a white carrot thing. They taste good, trust me.” Steph eyes it suspiciously before shrugging and laying her head back down.

Duke runs in while Jason is mixing in the flour and eggs. He stops and looks at everyone surprised. To Duke’s credit it is rare for all of them to be in the same room for a non vigilante related reason. He looks at Jason and into the bowl.

“Hey, that looks great! I’m heading out to patrol but save me some for when I get back?” He says as he grabs an apple and speeds out of the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Jason files the information to save some away in his head before he continues mixing. He makes sure everything is evenly coated before heating up a pan and drizzling some vegetable oil onto it. He places as many scoops as he can evenly spread on the pan and waits until he can flip them.

The sizzly of the fritters and the oil almost covers up the sound of a new pair of feet entering the kitchen.

“Whatchya making, Jaybird?” This time he doesn’t jump at the sound of Dick’s voice coming from directly over his shoulder. Just by looking at Dick’s eyes tells Jason the eldest is floating in between a dissociation episode. He’s not really all there.

Jesus Christ, was he the only one who had a good night? Well, he doesn’t really know how Duke’s night went but with the way he was rushing to get on patrol, if Jason had to guess it would be probably not good.

“Parsnip and Onion fritters.” He replies while scanning the kitchen for what task he can give Dick to help him out.

“Hey, could you do the dishes for me? I wouldn’t want Alfred to wake up and find the kitchen a mess.” He asks softly. Jason doesn’t mention that Alfred is already up and upon seeing all of them in the kitchen, about ten minutes ago, gave Jason a soft smile and left to do whatever Alfred does when he’s not butlering.

Dick turns to where Jason points to the dishes and nods.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He says spacely. Jason fights the urge to fist pump. If he’s learnt anything it's if you wanna get Dick Grayson to help himself, you gotta guilt trip him a little bit. He does take the knife before Dick can add it to his washing pile. Yeah he’s got some less than moral helping tactics but he’s not gonna let the guy hurt himself.

Damian gets up to help Dick with the dishes and they make quiet conversation. With Damian occasionally yelling when Dick splashes him or tries to place bubbles on his head.

Jason hands the empty bowl to Dick before placing the last of the fritters onto one big plate. He quickly whips up a greek yogurt and herb dip sauce. He grabs out enough plates for everyone and places two on a plate for Duke before wrapping it with foil and placing them in the fridge. He then hands the remaining stack of plates to Dick.

“Alright losers follow if you want breakfast.” He calls out before heading into the proper dining room. Dick sets the table before taking one for himself.

Jason will never tell anyone but he did feel nervous waiting for everyone’s reaction.

“Wait, why is this good?”

“I can’t tell if these are good or if I’m just really fucking hungry.”

“These are really good Jaybird.”

He tried to hide the way the tension fell from his shoulders before digging into his own food. The atmosphere was good and it made Jason kinda miss moments like this. This sense of family and belonging. Just a family having breakfast together.

“Is there any left for me?” Bruce asks as he walks in. Jason looks up at him. He’s met with a proud look he hasn’t seen in what feels like a lifetime. He hides his face and gestures to an empty chair.

“Take a seat, old man.”

I hope the fic is a good as you guys imagined 🥰

here’s a special thanks to @kaycynyrs for sending in the ask that inspired me to look at this fic again and @yourlocal-edgelord for encouraging me to rewrite it and to @heavenssolitude for being there and supporting me 🥰

(i’ll totally untag you guys if you didn’t wanna be tagged. just wanted to say thanks)

[pianokantzart]

Luigi's Mansion Hints/References in The Super Mario Bros Movie + Production