#went to a movie today

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Angst;

Foul legacy with a reader who almost died but got saved by FL; but the damage ended up in memory loss.

*evil giggling* oh anon, you've given me too much power >:)

the first thing you feel when you open your eyes again is pain shooting through your body, concentrated in your aching limbs and head, and you let out an involuntary groan. suddenly there's an odd sound- something akin to a chirp- as someone cradles you gently in their lap, and you almost relax until you feel sharp, armored claws brush against your skin. your eyes fly open and meet the gaze of an enormous monster, its crystalline eye the color of the deep sea and filled with worry

the creature trills quietly, and you scream, scrambling away as fast as your battered body can handle. the beast whines sharply, trying to catch you, to help you, but you only see the talons and how they rake across the air, easily able to pierce through your skin. the commotion is so great that the doctor rushes in, kneeling to help you to your feet. another man- Zhongli, you know him through the fog in your mind- holds the monster back as it whimpers and cries out, reaching for you. Dr. Baizhu gently reassures you, trying to help you back into your bed, but you resist, looking from the Abyssal creature to Baizhu to Zhongli and back again, fear illuminated brightly in your eyes

you lean away from the beast, unable to understand what it wants and why it's here. and Foul Legacy sobs, unable to understand why you look so afraid of him when you loved him so much before

[freckled-paints]

ITS SPIDER MAN!!! LOOK ITS SPIDER MAN!!

click for better quality!!

[sctumsempra]

severus snape every morning in his mid 30s for no fucking reason: where the FUCK is my eyeshadow

[fictionadventurer]

Slumber party question! What's your earliest memory of encountering beauty? The first thing you can recall where you looked at something and were struck by how beautiful it was?

[junosmindpalace]

Kento needs something good in his life.

For most of it he was fairly indifferent to a lot of things, his face often, if not always, chilled or some kind of annoyed. This seemed to be on the surface, perhaps, but Kento found pleasure within and among many things. Sakura trees, baked goods, the feeling of warm sand beneath his feet and cool ocean water washing it away.

They're the little things, even just thoughts of them, that keep Kento moving through this god awful world. As he gets older, goodness is found in even more trivial things, because with age also comes additional burden and various disappointment. Restock of a favorite product. Flowers in bloom. Small things that bring colour into a life that very frequently threatens to drain it all until he only knows to identify shades of grey and black.

The withering of leaves and flowers hanging onto dying branches amidst chilling winds, threatening to leave them completely bare, is when Kento is reminded more than ever that he needs you. He needs something good, something to work toward. Something to come home to. Something pleasant to fall asleep to. Something beyond material means to motivate him.

His work, in theory, serves him well enough. Pays him well enough if he sacrifices enough of his physical and mental strength to commit to working with difficult people and staring at a blue light that drains his energy almost as much as the routine of it all itself. In the end, he gets a paycheck, and that's what matters.

But truly, it makes Kento a little sick when he thinks that just can't be all life is. Meant to constantly choose which is the more daunting path. Meant to rot at some miserable desk around miserable people in a world that thrives off misery. When the leaves wither and gain spots, when the baked goods don't taste right, when even the thought of a satisfying future isn't enough to push out the nauseating images of curses, he needs something constant. He needs a good thing. He needs you.

You need something good in your life.

Beyond academics, beyond a 9/5, beyond completely busy and hectic days where, by the end, you struggle to remember half of it. Something besides validation from others, besides the constant need to catch up.

A rest would be good, perhaps. A rest from your responsibilities, a rest from the nonsense and vileness that spouts out of people's mouths on the daily, from the streets to your work to the bubbles on your phone. A rest to remind you that in this world, there was still something worth going on for. Something that made all the work worth it. That there was still time to do you, to be with someone who appreciated you. You need something good in your life.

And you've had something good, both of you: you've had each other. For quite some time.

Neither of you would've been able to predict that your futures would intertwine in such a personal and intimate way. Neither of you would've been able to predict from your high school years that you'd steadily fall in love with each other over trauma bonds and shop run-ins and whatever else there was. Neither of you would've fathomed sharing a home together, a small one, but yours, nonetheless.

Never would you both think that the good thing would consist of each other.

But it's been good. It's been grounding, it's helped you retain some semblance of identity and hope in a world that seems adamant on stripping it from you. Besides late-night conversations about bad memories and the heaviness of the world, there were joint cooking sessions. There were silly debates about nonsensical topics. There was reading together. There was indulging in each other's hobbies, when time made room for them. There were attempts at movie marathons: such as the one you were attempting tonight.

It usually never worked out because often you and Kento both came home exhausted from work, but sometimes a shower, a light dinner and a change of comfortable clothes was enough to wake you both just enough to want to spend the remainder of your energy together. So, you agree on trying a movie you've wanted to see for a while, making yourselves comfortable with blankets and pillows.

Your legs are sprawled over his lap, hugging a cushion pillow close to you as the arm of the couch supports your back. Nanami's slouched and still with his arms crossed over his chest. They'll occasionally come down to settle on your knees. It's a little after midnight, the only light resonating throughout your living room being the blue light from the television. The more time that passes, the more Kento becomes aware of the power it has over his senses, lulling him in and out of sleep. When he tilts his head against the cushion toward you, he can see from the crescents in your eyes that the effect was the same.

"Hey," he mutters quietly, gently nudging your side. "Don't doze off on me, now."

You object with a groan as you sit up against the cushion, lulling your head to look up at him. "M'not."

"Didn't look like it."

"Oh, don't start. I saw your eyes close."

"And you thought that'd save you?"

"Maybe."

Kento has never, but especially not since high school, believed that anything has any real permanence to it, besides maybe death. Everything is fleeting. Life is fleeting, he sees it in the shrivelled lines and drained colored from plants through the changing seasons as well as in the creases of skin and unusual paleness of corpses from the morgue. Routine is not always consistent, it's reminded when he's forced to work overtime, to take a detour to a location, when he falls behind some sort of schedule.

But when he looks over at you, takes in the small smile on your lips, the glow on your skin from the TV lights, he thinks of how badly he wants this good thing to last. Even though it's selfish, even though there was no guarantee that it would no matter the thought of a ring on your finger, there was something in him that wanted it anyway.

The only thing that holds him back from letting the question fall from his lips is the guilt he’d feel for not being more thoughtful in the gesture. No ring, no nice day spent together. Truly, he’d resent himself if he were to propose to you in such an undeserving, unaffectionate and unromantic way. But when he watches you with his head lolled to the side, your own eyes cheerfully boring into his as you sit in the dead of the night trying to enjoy some semblance of peace in your togetherness, he wants so badly to just say it:

Marry me. Let’s have something good.

You know, for good.

He holds his tongue though, and instead gives you a smile of his own, a small but meaningful curve of his lips. The TV light illuminates the sides of your faces, and soon enough the blue light and dialogue will lull you to sleep, and you’ll both abandon your movie session in favor of some much-needed rest. So he stands up from the couch before it could get to that point, letting your legs gently swing to the side to accommodates the sit up. He turns toward you, and offers both of his hands out. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

You whine in protest. "But the movie..."

"We'll finish it another time, promise. I have a day off, soon."

"Really?" A quiet gasp escapes you, and your smile gradually widens as you take hold of his hands as he aids in pulling you up and leading you down the hall.

"Next week, I'm pretty sure. We can do something."

"Not spending the whole day in bed."

"Awfully tempting."

He has a good thing, Kento thinks as you swat his chest, but he doesn't move his hand from your lower back to block at all. He has a goddamn good thing, he thinks when your chuckles break the silence within your home, and through the good, bad, and ugliness of it all, it'll be something that keeps some order and hope in his life.

[medicalunprofessional]

neighborhood watch

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[quotidianish]

doppelganger

[the-ridiculous-blog]

Jason Isaacs as Doctor Heinrich Volmer in A Cure for Wellness

*coughs* h0rny doctor under the cut

[so-very-small]

trapping a tiny in a jar and gently setting the jar next to me on the sofa and giving them some popcorn cause i’m about to make them watch the entire extended editions of Lord of the Rings with me

[bitchy-peachy]

"Hail, Satan." *saucy air smooch😘*

[akai-anna]

Round 3

Round: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

[crisp-art]

he don't bite

[chiiyuuvv]

YALL I'M ON POOKIE BOOKIE STATUS WITH A BOY 😝😝😝😝

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

Group chat with friends 2023

group chat with friends (2023) - ducklesspond and friends

"help mine dick thats ugly that one yes for me indeedy"

submitted by @ducklesspond

[vees-wax]

The Name’s Lewis. Henry Lewis.

Otherwise known as the time Henry Lewis (played by Harry Kershaw) and Harry Kershaw (played by Henry Lewis) were spies with a mission to kill Henry Lewis’ (played by Harry Kershaw) ex-wife - the daughter of Henry Shields (played by Nancy Zamit).

Except Harry Kershaw (played by Henry Lewis) double crossed Henry Lewis (played by Harry Kershaw) and used body swap technology to know look like Henry Lewis.

So there’s Harry Kershaw (previously played by Henry Lewis, now post body swap played by Harry Kershaw because he’s been changed to look like Henry Lewis - which means he looks like real life Harry Kershaw) and Henry Lewis (previously played by Harry Kershaw, now played by Henry Lewis because his ex wife used the technology to make him look like Harry Kershaw - real life Henry Lewis) and we’re nearly getting somewhere.

And then Harry Kershaw (played by Harry Kershaw but looking like Henry Lewis) is actually a triple agent and shoots and re-kidnaps Henry Lewis (played by Henry Lewis because he still looks like Harry Kershaw).

They bodyswap back into their original bodies so we have Henry Lewis (played by Harry Kershaw once again) and Harry Kershaw (played by Henry Lewis) - and you think that’s the end of it, there are thirty seconds left in the show.

Harry Kershaw (played by Henry Lewis, then Harry Kershaw, then Henry Lewis again) rips off his own skin to reveal that after all this time, he was actually - Jonathan Sayer.