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#IM EMOTIONAL
whitelotusherald · 2 months
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It feels like a miracle that a shapeshifter punk gremlin born on this hellsite made into a COMIC BOOK and then into a MOVIE that almost didn't survive (once again, fuck you Disney) and now Nimona's WHAT??? An Oscar nominee???
Can you believe it???
Can you?
I can't
I'm hoping against all hope Nimona will win
But Nimona has already won, right? Against all chances, all odds, we have a movie, we have our shapeshifter in so-so many different forms, and I bet Nate's having some crazy party at the other side of the globe
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bliss-in-the-void · 4 months
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Suguru appreciation post bc he’s lovely:
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You can’t honestly look at this man without falling in love with him, Satoru was so based for loving him blindly and unconditionally. Not to mention, he got to experience Suguru’s gentle, caring, and loving side. How could he not lose his mind over him? (I am right there with you, Satoru)
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Enchanted (2007) |  Disenchanted (2022) 
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1spooky-dad · 11 months
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Always and forever thinking about the day they got the eggs and got paired up, and other people being maybe a little awkward cause they still don't necessarily know the person they've been paired with, a little unsure of what bits they can get away with, and then Mariana, i imagine, is like "damn this is my chance for an actual ship for once let's fucking go let's not be To Weird so my partner won't be creeped out" but then charlie runs up and assigns him as Bitch Wife and immediately starts a bit where they've been married for years and he's trying to get a divorce and Mariana is just like 😍 YOU! You are The One. We are going to have so much sex. And he was right.
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moonlightmagical · 5 days
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the fact that the adaine and aelwyn have been so messed up by their parents and general childhood that kindness is a abnormality that makes them wish for the familiarity of barbed comments and mutual hostility makes me want to eat through drywall actually
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sincenewyorks · 7 months
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can i just point out that alex and henry during election night were so like… established. like the way henry was in touch with alex’s emotions and feelings and the way alex needed a moment away from everything to be just with henry. it was like watching a married couple. the way their journey started quite literally from them disliking each other at the start of the movie to henry staring at alex and being his support during election night. ugh no one talk to me
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cupopencils · 1 year
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Dumb fuck comic
Owl crew please stop torturing the little boy he’s going to be 100% scar by the end of the show..
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kermit-the-hag · 8 months
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crying, screaming, and shidding.
(ignore my garbo, dirty laptop screen - please and thank you)
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fcb-mv33 · 4 months
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😭😭😭😭
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hopdollock · 1 year
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"For three?"
"For three."
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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happy birthday, @withacapitalp! i hope im not that late! i am so glad to be your friend and i am glad you were born. ily! long islands on me! 🥂🍾💗
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There’s this damn spring festival in Indianapolis. It’s pretty popular among young-ins and people from small towns come to visit it every year. There are local vendors, activities, mini concerts. It’s where Eddie thrives the most, he has gone every year since he can remember.
His first mistake was mentioning it to Dustin. The second was agreeing to his insistent pleading if he could come with Eddie to Indy.
Because after Eddie finally said yes. The news— unsurprisingly— reaches El, and wherever El goes, Will goes, and of course, wherever Will goes Mike goes. Then Max hears and also wants in and of course, Lucas also wants to go. So now, it’s the whole damn party. Of course, he can’t handle all the kids. So now, all the adult kids are coming too.
And listen, he thinks they’re all great. But he’s been wanting to get out of Hawkins and away from them to just— breathe. Also, that’s a lie. Eddie doesn’t want to get away from them. He specifically wants to get away from Steve fucking Harrington and all the confusing feelings he have for the very straight man.
Of course, that doesn’t work out.
Because now they're stuck in the middle of a crowd. Eddie has never really understood why people said they felt like a sardine in a can, but right now, he fully understands. He should have known it was going to be busy. It was a Saturday and it’s one of the biggest festivals in town.
He will never say it, but Eddie thanks Steve’s very strong maternal instinct. He can worry for himself right now, because he knows the kids are together due to the very strict buddy system Steve instituted. Now they just have to get to the damn corn dog stand, which Steve declared as their meet up place.
“Eddie.” Eddie whips his head to see Steve staring intently at him. Oh yeah, Steve’s his buddy. “We have to get out of here.”
Eddie nods faintly but doesn’t answer. He has to keep his breathing in check. They’re fine, and the kids are fine. There’s a crowd but they're not after the kids. They're not after Eddie. They’re not after him. It's not an angry mob. Not after him for killing Chrissy. Not—
“Eds.” Steve pushes against the people to get to him. His brown eyes track his face before he sighs in worry, “Hold my hand.”
“What?” Eddie croaks out in disbelief.
Steve looks around, before whispering, "Baby, I think you're one step away from a panic attack. It's too fucking crowded."
And before Eddie can say anything else, Steve captures his hand into his. He doesn't intertwine them together because they're still in public and though they're in the city, it's always good to be safe. But Steve still holds Eddie's hand so tightly, like he's afraid that Eddie's going to vanish from his sight.
"Don't let go, okay?" Steve asks, which is ridiculous, and crazy. Because now that Eddie's holding his hand, clasped together like two ends of the same parenthesis, he doesn't think he could ever let go.
Eddie nods, and Steve pulls him in front of him, shielding him with his arms so people won't bump into him. It weirdly feels like a hug. If he has to describe it, he will say it feels exactly like the moment Wayne hugged him after he came out to him. It's safety, warmth, and overwhelming love and protection.
Steve maneuvers around the crowd like a pro. He dodges people without hitting them and takes them out of the fucking crowd in the middle of the market.
Before he knows it, they're out of the crowd and sitting on a bench. His breathing is finally getting better, but Steve still hasn't let go of his hand. Not when he bought Eddie a drink, not when he instructed Eddie to breathe with him, not when the kids came and asked what was wrong, only to be shooed away.
Eddie's not sure why he's so shaken to the core by this certain touch. He's always been the touchy-feely one. He throws an arm on Steve's shoulders, pats his head when Steve does something ridiculously adorable, and nudges him by the ribs when he says something funny. Steve's never initiated touch, Robin says it's because of the "complete lack of love and care from his parents."
But Steve's right here. Squatting in front of him. Holding his hand as he waits for Eddie to calm down. Looking at him like he— loves him. How could Steve ever be the product of lack of love and care, when he seems to have an abundance of it?
"You doing better, Eds?" Steve asks, his eyes are bright against the lights. He's looking at Eddie like Eddie's something to be cared for, to be loved, like he's something precious.
Eddie wants Steve to look at him like this. Selfishly, he wants to have it for the rest of his fucking life.
Eddie blinks at him, and accidentally, intentionally, stupidly, spits out, "I think I am in love with you."
Steve freezes. He blinks at him.
The world behind them slows down. There's a kid winning a prize a few stalls down, and a man bargaining for a vase on the other end. Someone's order is ready at the food stand and someone just won the bingo. There's a band playing and they're fucking playing Whitesnake's Is This Love.
It's one of those simple, but beautiful moments. Those that make you feel like you're nothing but a small particle in this big, vast world. Eddie basks in those moments sometimes.
However, at that moment, Eddie doesn't. If Steve looks at him like that for the rest of his life, Eddie doesn't think he'll ever feel small again.
He lets the world fade into a quiet noise. Nothing else matters. Nothing, but Steve Harrington.
He just stares at Steve. He just stares as Steve's face breaks into the biggest smile he has ever seen and it quite literally feels like watching a sunflower grow right in front of him. It's a smile that overflows, from the way he beams at him, from the way his eyes wrinkle, the way his nose crinkles.
Eddie's never seen Steve smile this big before and its damn beautiful.
"You sure about that?" Steve asks. There's insecurity in it, but also hope.
Eddie's never been this sure about anything else in his life, so he says, "Yes."
Steve softens, "Alright. That's good."
"How is that good?" Eddie whispers.
"Because, I—" Steve turns over their hands on his lap, and finally— finally— intertwines them. And shit, maybe there is a God, because this feels sacred, a love made just for the two of them.
"Because, I think I am also in love with you."
"I wish I can kiss you here," Eddie says, making Steve laugh, and it spills out of his body so beautifully Eddie wants to keep doing it for the rest of his life.
"Slow down, cowboy," Steve giggles, but the way he tightens his hold on Eddie's hand tells the opposite of his statement.
"Steve! Eddie! Look at this!" Dustin screams from the nearby booth, where El just won him a teddy bear.
"Yeah, you have to come. El's not doing anything. It's just pure talent!" Lucas sarcastically shrieks back.
In the background, El's giggling like crazy. Which 100% means she's using her magic. Eddie can't help but smile at the kids. He's glad he bought them with him to have fun.
Steve immediately stands up at that, their hands breaking apart at the motion. "Oh God. I told her not to use her powers." Steve's about to rush to them— maternal instincts and whatnot— before he stops in his tracks and turns to Eddie.
Steve softens, holding out his hand to Eddie. Eddie takes it without hesitation.
"Don't let go?" Steve asks.
Eddie stares at him, before he whispers a vow just for the two of them, "I won't. I promise."
True to his word, he doesn't let go. Not ever.
Eddie has no intention of ever letting Steve go.
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bluenumbernine · 9 months
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what if i start crying. what if.
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partiallypoison · 2 years
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man. famous last words really is THAT song. the audience always sings it, almost drowning out gerard. i love it i love it i love it i love awake and unafraid sung by thousands. i love ray toro singing loud and clear alongside gerard. i am not afraid to keep on living. i am not afraid to walk this world alone. i love how the music pauses as the audience sings the bridge. i see you lying next to me, with words i thought i’d never speak. awake and unafraid. i love that gerard always starts singing again at asleep or dead. it’s one of my favorite my chemical romance songs ever, and i know the moment i hear it live i will be sobbing.
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2x7 | 5x6
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livresjaunes · 4 months
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Tom Hiddleston, you were the BEST Loki we could've ever had.
THANK YOU 💚 for loving this character as much as we did.
THANK YOU 💚 for always delivering a brilliant performance, no matter how small was the role or how confusing things at Marvel could be.
THANK YOU 💚 for your passion, your enthusiasm and your commitment to fulfill our fans wishes.
YOU WERE BURDENED WITH A GLORIOUS PURPOSE.
For all time. Always.
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gothicgunslinger · 7 months
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Pre rdr2, where you join the gang just before Arthur and John do – for a while, it was you, Dutch, and Hosea; a seemingly unstoppable trio of theatrics, gunslingin' and thievin'.
That and, both Dutch and Hosea had eyes for you. At first, it felt like a complication – I mean, they couldn't both have you, right? Right?
I suppose that all changed, after a rather eventful night at the saloon. A planned robbery, turned completely on it's head – the three of you throwing caution to the wind and deciding just to let loose, get drunk, dance, have fun. Oh, and fun was had.
Somehow, several whiskeys down the line, you were all collectively crammed into a hotel room – your back against Dutch's chest, his rough, decored hands rolling your nipples between harsh, calloused fingers; the cold silver of his rings making you shudder, an array of goosebumps adorning your skin, his breath on your ear as he murmured filth from behind those lips. Hosea, on the other hand, always the gentleman – his head between your already trembling thighs, tongue circling your aching clit, your slick tasting like fresh honey as he periodically swallowed.
After that, no night, nor day was the same. You were often spent, jelly-legged from a rough pounding the several nights prior – neither men showing mercy, indulging perhaps a little too much in enacting fantasies they'd let swim around their heads for so long. Still, as if you'd ever find it within you to complain – because, there were nights like this one; Dutch's head in your lap, as he read aloud his usual philosophies, your fingers combing through his tight, inky curls as a warm smile played at your lips. Your free arm, laced around Hosea, his head upon your shoulder – he'd occasionally pepper gentle, innocent kisses to your neck, your jaw. It was bliss.
Little really changed, when you found Arthur. The sex was less, of course, but the affections were perhaps on a rise – a son, now curled up in bed with the three of his parents. Fourteen, lost, now having sought the comfort he'd so desperately craved. Though it did take time, Arthur saw you as a mother – some, angelic force within his life, that kissed his grazed knees, cut his hair and soothed tears or terrors that so often reared their ugly heads.
John. John, wasn't an entirely different story, either. Well, for Dutch and Hosea, he certainly was. In comparison to his older counterpart, John wasn't quite as equal with his appreciation for his s o-called 'adoptive parents'. He favoured you, greatly. More than you could say you were grateful for, John competed with Arthur for your attention – purposefully skinning his knees, tumbling from his horse. All, to be scooped into your arms. Admittedly, for a while, you yielded – “Shh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Awh, my poor boy.” All while planting a kiss to the crown of his head. Finally, at the advise of Hosea, you set a few boundaries – much to John’s distaste, but he’d listen to you.
Life went on like this, for a good, long while. Yes, you weren’t really a gang, anymore – rather, a family. Poker on spring nights, in which, John’s wrinkled nose giving him away. Hosea teaching the boys to read by the campfire, Dutch slow-dancing with you in your shared tent. Despite the expected blip, bump in the road, life felt..perfect.
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