#i fucking love this
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Vincent Price and Kermit the Frog
The Muppet Show (1977)
#vincent price#kermit#Kermit the frog#muppets#the muppet show#vintage TV#i fucking love this#hes so pretty#such a gilf#jim henson#hand#halloween#he turns into such a kid around the muppets and i love it#sighhhh#horror#old horror movies#vintage#movie#actor#handsome#gif#gifs made by me#gif set
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At this point I'm just throwing everything that makes me laugh into your inbox.
But also this feels relevant to your blog because: Lucifer vs Vox, Lucifer being possessive, Vox being jealous.
https://youtu.be/YP-HXcbPKEM
youtube
#hazbin hotel#radioapple#i fucking love this#nunalastor asks#vox#lucifer#alastor#fanart#possessive lucifer#the cox chronicles
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Okay. I got an idea for a request. If It's uh, okay:
Adam gets sent back in time all the way back in Eden to get a second chance at life after his death, but Lucifer —who used to have a bit of a yandere crush on Adam that never died out— is the one who gets to remember everything. And since he kinda gets what he did wrong the first time, he actually makes Adam bite the apple and be his "like it was supposed to be all along"
Also bit of Fanart for you, because seriously. Love your fanfiction a lot. I could gush about the potential, the characters and everything ughhhhaaaaaa *Sobs in spanish*
AAAAAHHHHH! MY FIRST FANART! IT'S BEAUTIFUL! I'M NOT CRYING, DAMMIT! I'M SWEATING THROUGH MY EYES!
But I do like your request! It would have to be a one-shot I'd post on ao3 because it would be a long one. Like, I'm talking a good 4,000 to 5,000 words to make sure it's good. But now that the idea is there, it's on the back burner.
Seriously though! I love your art style! Thank you for taking the time to read my book! When I posted that book, I honestly didn't expect it to blow up like this!
#hazbin hotel#adamsapple#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lucifer#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#send asks#fanart#i fucking love this#AdamDies
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Keep the Wolves Away
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.
Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]
Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses
"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her.
"It's not a date!"
"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"
"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her.
"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."
"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."
"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love."
"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"
"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."
"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out.
"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours.
For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints.
So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive.
"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."
"I know."
"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."
"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything.
"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute."
"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler.
"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."
"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall.
"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face.
"Wow… you look-"
"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room.
"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful."
"Thank you. Not so bad yourself."
"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird."
"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself.
"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place."
"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass.
"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."
"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable."
"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.
"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track.
You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.
The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this.
You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his.
"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.
"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up.
"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"
"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college."
"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look.
"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything."
"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."
"But you drove all the way here."
"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.
"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"
"Just my pretty girls."
"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly.
"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'."
Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety.
"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles.
"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"
"I think… I just need you to be there with me."
"Then, that's what I'll do."
"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you.
"Okay." He says.
"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in.
The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one.
"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him.
"Us?"
"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?"
"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"
"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down.
"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery.
A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting.
Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art.
"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.
"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."
"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.
"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck.
"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen.
"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"
"Yeah, but I want you to."
"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting.
"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness.
"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.
"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?"
"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."
"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."
"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"
"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.
"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says.
"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods.
"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him.
"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think.
"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd.
"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh.
"He is."
"How'd you two meet?"
"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.
"Ah," he says. "That's nice."
"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.
"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."
"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone."
"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."
"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.
"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"
"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.
"I thought I did in the email."
"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."
"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."
"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years."
"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands.
"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."
You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters.
You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you.
"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.
"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"
You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you."
"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault."
"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process.
"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."
"But I-"
"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.
"Fuck everything else." You agree.
"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.
"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."
"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.
You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours.
"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.
"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks."
Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.
This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick.
But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk
#hippies and cowboys#joel miller au#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel tlou#the last of us au#tlou au#joel miller tlou#the last of us fic#the last of us x reader#the last of us hbo#the last of us fluff#joel miller fluff#i fucking love this
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caleb is gelidon, caleb 2 is the biggest t rex ever, and liam has never been happier
#his absolute JOY when luc enlarged the t rex#i fucking love this#eots#eots spoilers#cr spoilers#cr liveblogging#caleb widogast#the mighty nein#critical role
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OH. MY FUCKING GOD.
SPOILERS FOR A DATE WITH DEATH BAD ENDING UNDER CUT
TWO AND A HALF STUDIOS
WHEN I CATCH YOU TWO AND A HALF STUDIOS
TWO AND A HALF STUDIOS WHEN I CATCH YOU TWO AND HALF STUDIOS
#THEY RLLY REFERENCED HOMESTUCK AGAIN IN THE BAD ENDING JSFJSJD#I FUCKING LOVE THIS#11/10 game just for this#two and a half studios#a date with death
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OMG THANK YOU
I'll start with The Creator and my AU
Basically, in my AU, the creator is part of a draconian race of beings (let's just call them The Creators) that roam the cosmos. Heavily inspired by Star Rail btw.
They travel through galaxies and eventually settle down on a barren planet that holds primordial energy. Then they feed off that energy and the building blocks of life are created as a consequence. Think of plants and photosynthesis producing oxygen. Life is basically just a waste product for these cosmic beasts.
Except the life that is produced this way serves the purpose of creating new Creators. Dragons are born and over thousands of years eventually the oldest and most powerful one creates a bond with the Original Creator and becomes one themselves, leaving the planet to continue the cycle.
The Dragon King Nibelung was one such candidate to transform and become a baby Creator too (the process includes reincarnating into a younger but more powerful form) until outside forces (The Heavenly Principles) interfered.
I know it sounds complicated cause it is but I still think it's in line with the rest of Genshin's absurd lore.
Holy shit. gonjie these are some of the greatest headcanons I've ever had the honor of reading. The whole dragon traveling galaxies and creating more Creator dragons is something out of a high fantasy novel. Fucking awesome.
#genshin fanfic#cult au#sagau#creator!reader#sagau lore#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#I fucking love this
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Yes Please! More! I Need More!
These spoilers are giving me life… look at them!
#saezuru tori wa habatakanai#yashiro and doumeki in love#doumeki x yashiro#doumeki chikara#yashiro#doumeki#saezuru spoiler#saezuru spoilers#I fucking love this#they’re so in love#like I didn’t know that this whole time
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I love twinks getting their bodies ruined with pregnancy.
Rodimus is so proud of his body as it is, sexy little waist and perky little breasts. He loves it and everyone else does too. Probably too much because suddenly he's pregnant, and with his forge being blessed by primus himself there are multiple huge sparklings inside him. He hates this, he is looking fatter by the day and his pretty little tits are growing big and heavy with milk. He is always sore and can see stretch marks all over his once perfect flat belly.
He is visibly milfy after the pregnancy, big hips and thighs, paunchy tummy and fat tits that sag after he pumps them. As much as he hates this most bots are ogling the new and improved captain and hoping there will be a chance to put another litter in him.
YESSS that's what I'm taking about. come closer pretty twink i promise pregnancy won't change that little waist of yours (lie)
Rodimus gaining so much baby-weight while carrying his first litter he can't lose it afterwards... his perky, firm titties get heavy and saggy, his smooth waist is now thicker, there is a pouch on his belly that makes him look fatter. He felt gross through the whole pregnancy and he was hoping things were going to go back to normal once the sparklings were out but... he can't lose the newly gained weight.
Roddy feels ugly now, he had the perfect speedster figure and now he's got a fat ass and tits that won't stay in his chest plate... what's worse is that he's convinced that everyone is calling him pretty just to make him feel better. But oh boy, the entire Lost Light is lusting after him, now more than ever. A cute speedster with a grabbable waist was fun to fuck, but a fat fertile bot like that? Now they're talking. Everyone wants to stuff him full of sparklings again so that he just keeps getting bigger and fatter, to make sure he looks as fertile as that forge of his is.
Rodimus does everything he can to get back on track, maybe be doesn't lose hope and after a while he feels pretty enough to fuck someone and oops. They didn't pull out in time. Don't worry captain, you'll look very sexy with a baby-bump.
#valveplug#pregnancy mention#mhmmm not sure if there is anything else to tag#weight gain kink#i fucking love this
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HORSE STANCE. LOWER!
#avatar the last airbender#atla#avatar kyoshi#kyoshi#rangi#sokka#suki#kyoshi warriors#avatar live action#I FUCKING LOVE THIS#rangi sei'naka#kyoshi novels#shadow of kyoshi#rise of kyoshi
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Vincent Price guest stars on
The Muppet Show (1977)
#vincent price#the muppets#the muppet show#muppets#fozzie bear#gonzo the great#uncle deadly#i fucking love this#monster#best thing ever#i said it#bicon#bisexual#god#legend#best episode#hes so hot#such a gilf#he could get it#just sayin#horror#old horror movies#vintage#movie#actor#handsome#gif#gifs made by me#gif set#gifs
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She has to.make a phone call
she's trying so hard
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the slowest slowburn in tv history: a vidEO recap of olivia benson + ell...
youtube
THIS!!!😱😱😱
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I can‘t believe i haven’t shown you all but i got another tattoo in december
Done by janemiller.ink (instagram)
#attack on titan#eren yeager#levi ackerman#tattoo#anime tattoo#red spider lily#i fucking love this#i draw whiskers on them when i am bored#sometimes i just squish their cheeks with my fingers#shingeki no kyoujin#snk#aot
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✨FUCKING Send this to ten other BITCH ASS bloggers you think are FUCKILY wonderful, keep the game going BITCH and make someone smile!!✨
@swearification-and-cursing IS THIS FROM YOU???? OMG THIS HAS TO BE FROM YOU
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