#frick!!!!

[ant-bunny]

@dawnpstrat (🚨🚨🚨orig post🚨🚨🚨)

[watsername]

✨Guess who just hit 1 million on twitch!!!✨

[hobbitunderthemountain]

that one fanart your reblogged of thorin with the love note is so cute. my fav headcanon is to imagine that when they get together bilbo and thorin will write love notes to each other. bilbo's poetry skill especially make thorin weak (he's cried over a letter once or twice)

YES ABSOLUTELY. Especially if they stay in Erebor and Bilbo helps with the restoration and maybe they’re both so busy with their duties they don’t see each other often during the day so they write little notes to each other and stick them places where the other will find them throughout the day... and they both absolutely (secretly) hold on to every single sweet little message they get from the other and when they’ve been married forty years they have boxes of notes from the past few decades and eventually one of them like bilbo probably stumbles upon the thorin’s stash and 1) cringes about some of the older messages “good heavens, were we really that sappy when we were first married???” and 2) “you kept all of these????” but it’s like of course he did and bilbo kept all of thorin’s and they’re like “wow we really are saps aren’t we?”

[killingg-eve]

Fic:

Based on this post about how Villanelle is wearing a “Yours”/”Mine” ring set in 02x04 while writing the postcard for Eve.

---

Villanelle took the ring off of her right hand, examining it closely. It was made up of two separate rings; one gold “Yours” and one silver “Mine,” which attached together magnetically. When joined, the rings lined up in such a way that it read “I <3 You.”

She was enthralled with the rings and repeatedly pulled them apart and then resisted the magnetic force as it brought them back together with a “click.” Her face softened.

She thought about how some type of magnetic force kept guiding her back to Eve’s path. Or maybe it was Eve, she thought, who was doing the pulling. The thought made her smile.

When she first set eyes on the ring at an art stand in Paris, she knew that she wanted Eve to take the silver piece.

She had rehearsed it so many times in her imagination, when she was in the hospital. She felt endless twinges of pain when breathing or bending in her flat hospital bed. She had trouble falling asleep, that night, as each slow, sleepy inhale caused the gash in her side to stretch beyond what she thought the stitches could handle.

To numb the pain—for a few minutes at a time, at least—she pictured herself back on her bed, lying next to Eve. She pictured asking Eve to wait a moment, to just lie on her duvet sleepily, as she retrieved the set of rings from her nightstand. She would have given Eve the ring, then, asking her, “Will you be mine?” And if Eve felt overwhelmed . . .if it was all too much—if she was too much for Eve—she would simply plead, “Please keep it with you for a little while. Just borrow it. I just want to feel like I have a connection; like a part of you is with me when I wear the other half.”

But Eve was quicker to leave a part of herself with Villanelle. Something that stings ruthlessly, something that can’t be forgotten, even in a hospital room in the late hours of the night, when Villanelle’s body is begging to be put to sleep so that it can heal from the trauma of the past several days—prison, being slapped in the face, being stabbed, hitting the windshield of the taxi she ran in front of. Inside and out, she was an exhausted mess, but all she could think of was Eve’s expression of fascination in her. And Eve’s willingness to lie down beside her while knowing what her prison record gave away. While knowing that it was she who made the man in Vienna bleed out. When looking at the dark insides of her eyelids and trying to breathe more shallowly, all she could picture was the moment when Eve left her mark. When she proved something, when she showed that she was willing and able to be dark and cold and ruthless, not just clever and well-behaved.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, either,” she had whispered to herself as the sun started to come through the window of her and Gabriel’s room, and as sleep finally consumed her for a few hours.

-

[petitetearoses-blog]

time to remake my maki blog and watch this blog crumble with the rest...

[liamrrys]

i am out here making trr ig edits again and im up to maxwell and Boy Does He Love MC

[reaperseal-archive]

so the piece of shit high school i went to hasn’t given me my diploma yet even though i finished on october 3rd wtf are y’all up to

i also haven’t heard anything about grad because there literally isn’t anything booked or figured out yet

my mom said if grad ends up being horribly planned and awful we’re just gonna buy me a cap/gown/grad dress and we can have our own bomb photoshoot and celebration