#OF COURSE!

[raplinenthusiasts]

↳  home today!

you sure about that?

[infamous-if]

Can we lose the performance in chapter 4?

Yes, you can get sent home.

[houseoflimescale]

today on bad comics: deadpool intentionally misinterprets the term cowboy

[elilelibeli]

Sirius is stuck

“Sirius what happened?” Remus panicked as soon as Sirius opened the door. He knew it wasn’t just a “let’s hangout” invitation , it was a very urgent 3 am text after all, he expected something, but he didn’t expect Sirius standing at the door with smudged mascara and red, teary eyes.

“You’ve been crying. Are you hurt?” Remus asked again as he walked through the door.

“Not hurt. Can’s oben the ipper.” Sirius’s words slurred behind a spoon in his mouth. He was pointing at his back with a hand that wasn’t holding an ice cream. Based on the almost gone pint it had been an intense night.

Remus helped with the spoon as he gave Sirius a curious look.

“I am stuck Moony. I came back from the bar and all I wanted was to get in bed and I just.. the zipper Moony.. it’s stuck!” Sirius’s eyes welled up with tears again.

Remus looked at him. Sirius looked so funny. Fluffy deer slippers James got him one Christmas, pj pants and a fancy top. His face was half smeared with ice cream and half smeared with run down make up. He looked adorable, pretty. Remus couldn’t help but chuckle and when Sirius’s face screamed betrayal his chuckle blew into a loud laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me you asshole, help!” Sirius had a full blown scowl now.

“Okay, okay, turn around.”

“It’s bad enough coming back home drunk to an empty house and then I can’t even get undressed alone” Sirius mumbled as Remus wiggled the zipper around.

“Aha! All done. You are finally free!” Remus chuckled triumphantly.

“Oh thank god, thank you Remus you are a lifesaver.”

“You are veeery welcome your highness” Remus bowed dramatically.

“Stop it!”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed” Remus started to lead Sirius to his bedroom. “I’ll get you a glass of water for the morning, god knows you’ll need one”

“Get a bottle from the fridge”

“Here we are. Here’s your bottle and some painkillers if you need them in the morning.” Remus explained as he put stuff on Sirius’s nightstand.

“Are you going to leave? It’s too late, maybe you should stay Moony”

“Yeah okay, I can crash on the couch”

“Hmm, on the couch. yes”

“You okay? Need anything else or is it finally time for your beauty sleep”

“Don’t need anything. Thank you. Thank you for coming tonight. I really needed it.. the help I mean”

“Yeah Sirius of course, always”

“Love you Remus”

Last words were muttered with Sirius’s last conscious thought before his breathing evened out and he fell asleep.

It hit Remus like a canon, wrecking his insides. But his mind knew it meant nothing, it was a drunk moment, a friend saying it to another friend, token of appreciation after the help. Remus got ready to crash on Sirius’s couch holding the same breath he held right after he heard Sirius’s last whisper.

Falling asleep was hard that night and the uncomfortable couch wasn’t the reason.

***

It took Remus an annoyingly long time to fall asleep and now someone was waking him up.

“What? What is happening?” He grumbled with irritation.

“Hey, Remus, I am so sorry to wake you up I just..” Sirius started.

“Sirius what happened are you alright?”

“Hey, hey, everything is alright. I am okay.” Sirius reassured as he sensed Remus was starting to panic. “Sorry, I just woke up and I couldn’t go back to sleep”

“And you decided to wake me up too?!” Remus’s panic was replaced with irritation again.

“Sorry, I just…” Sirius bit his lip, he looked nervous but then again Remus was still half asleep and the living room was dark so he could really tell. “You heard what I said before I fell asleep, right?” Sirius asked quietly.

“Yeah Sirius I did, it’s okay, I know how it was meant. We don’t need to talk about it, especially at dawn”

“But you don’t though. I think my mind realized what I said in sleep and I woke up and I couldn’t fall back asleep because I needed you to know..” Sirius put his hand on Remus’s cheek, “Remus it wasn’t a drunk thought or an accidental sleepy blubber, it wasn’t a friend telling a friend thing either. I meant it. I meant what I said” Sirius looked Remus in his eyes, blinked, stood up and left. Remus could finally fall back asleep, now that nobody was trying to speak to him. He breathed in and out and

An alarm went off in his head. He jumped up from the couch and blinked as he realized what he just heard. Part of him thought it was a dream or a hallucination maybe but that wasn’t stopping him from running into Sirius’s bedroom.

“Sirius! Was it a dream?” He was awfully loud before sun was even properly up.

“Not a dream, no” Sirius whispered while sitting up in bed. “Moony, I am sorr..” Sirius started to apologies but could not finish because Remus’s crashing lips had stolen words and a breath from his mouth.

“Me too, Sirius I love you, too” Remus breathed between the kisses. And if hearing Sirius say those words felt like thousand canons and alarms going off, Remus saying the words out loud felt like a volcano erupt, from deep within, from his core, words kept secret for too long found their way to the top and escaped, shaking the whole world.

The kiss at dawn lasted long after the sun was comfortably sat on the horizon. After that night Sirius never came back to an empty house and he certainly never ever undressed himself alone. Remus was always there, always there to help.

[covertleathers]

Tw Death, grief, hospice care, family, Shania Twain, the whole nine yards, probably a long post

Wow. Grief does feel like a tide coming in. The midnight waves rise and push everything up the beach of your mind. Sometimes it only threatens to flood, sometimes it takes whole homes. I'm trying to have fun and write again. Maybe I just gotta take the first brave step back into it. But I just...fundamentally have changed.

The night my mom died, it was just me, my sister, and my partner sitting in the hospice room playing music 90s alt girl classics and singing while watching Black Panther (my mom, an original blerd of the 70s/80s was approving, I know it). If my mom was a 2014 tumblr girl she absolutely would've had her fanfiction published here.

My 2 eldest uncles, her brothers, had left after their weird macho performance of grief. They couldn't even sit next to her. They couldn't even be with her through it after she declined and lost consciousness. They bitched and moaned about 'not knowing anything' and being 'totally blindsided' when they knew she was staying with her youngest brother because she was too sick to be alone anymore.

Side note, hospice nurses are insane human beings (in a good way). One nurse, Kim, had this incredible, weighty and comforting presence every time she was in the room. She was the one that made the call to me that my mom might not last the day.

Anyways, things were way less tense and more relaxed when it was just the four of us. We were listening to Shania Twain That Don't Impress Me Much when it happened.

She stopped breathing. And when we said her name, she opened her eyes. And locked in on me. She stared at me with what seemed like the last full power of her will and consciousness. There was fear and love. Recognition. She left a spiritual mark on me, I'm not even kidding.

Her small, frail body closed her eyes and gave her last breaths.

My friend said something really wise in the days after that the feeling of someone trying to communicate all the knowledge of the universe in a lightning strike should feel so foundationally shattering.

I was afraid to sleep that night. My partner held me as I cried myself exhausted. I knew she would come in the night and she did. I miss her so much. I do feel like a part of me died with her. I'm hoping that part is just wounded and resting.

[likeawildflower]

Run Jin Episode 15 - A twist! Jin is tricked too

[spottedgardeneelstan]

a criminally under discussed part of the extras

[blindhades]

this is literally how i picture the siren btw. minus the feet.

[ofimladris]

It would likely upset the boy's father if he knew he'd come all this way for the advice of one of the elder people of Endóre. While he had met Denethor one or twice and those meetings never went to ill places, it was clear that the man was proud, even for a man. How glad he was to hear that his son did not share in such an affliction, an affliction that reminded him all too much of the fallen Kings of Gondor.

With a smile he'd motion the man forward. The hospitality of his home would be his, and from the sight of the steward's son it was clear he needed it.

" Come, we will speak of what you came here soon enough, first we must have you cleaned and fed. Your horse too I imagine, such a noble beast to hefty you all this way."

@warhornofgondor

[thev01dd]

i was reminiscing some fics i've read through the years and i remembered i really really like the trope where one of the characters in the pairing is over powered in terms of actual physical, magical and/or super powers that they're capable of destroying whole cities, countries, planets, etc (sometimes this doesn't automatically mean the character is immortal tho)

and they just didn't do any of that because the person they simp for asked them not to. 🥰

i guess what i'm trying to say is that i really like the ""would you like me to annihilate them my love? i would destroy entire civilizations for you" and they just don't because their partner is just a ray of sunshine" trope

[sunriseabram]

Soulmates au I beg!!!! (@stabbyfoxandrew)

Andreil Soulmates AU | Part 1 | 27/12

Andrew hated working as a Barista. 

For all intents and purposes, it was the perfect job for him: easy, mundane, and repetitive. It fit his abysmal levels of motivation, leaving him enough time to watch hours upon hours of baking shows and dissociation. There was nothing difficult about making coffee.

Nicky said it was good for him to get out, to see people outside of Roland at Eden’s Twilight. Not that Andrew had gone anywhere near that club in months. For some stupid reason, his cousin thought that a post-grad job might lead him to find some sense of happiness, some sense of purpose, or maybe even some colour.

If that was true, Andrew hadn’t found anything yet. The only thing he had gathered was a burning passionate hatred for a soulmate system that had trapped him in monochrome. He fucking hated meeting people who had seen the world in full colour for so long.

The thing that annoyed him most was when people forgot. Living so happily in their romantic and platonic bliss, they simply forgot that a small percentage of the population was destined to never see an ounce of colour in their lives.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to stare the customer down and wait for them to realise, before rephrasing their sentence and pointing at the display case instead. The ‘pink’ one wasn’t very helpful when everything looked the same shade of grey. >

[anangatabaudade]

Whumpuary #3

Choice | Storm | Black Eye CW: Mild violence

A-Team // Face:

Face wakes up to the dulcet tones of B.A pounding on the door, matching the rhythm of the blood pounding under Face's temples. He groans but doesn't move farther than pulling his duvet over his head.

Deep down, he knows that they've got to get into the big bad's business today. Much less deep down, he feels the ache of being up all night trying to find a llama and four high pressured potato guns.

Of course, the rest of the team has no qualms about letting Murdock pick the lock and let them all in, Hannibal's particular 'Eau de Cigar' his first visitor.

Hannibal seems to sense Face's inner turmoil and laughs at him, tone already bright with the jazz. "Rise and shine lieutenant. Time to go steal some ranchers equipment back!" Face can picture his stupid giddy grin behind his closed eyelids, which only makes him drag his blanket farther over his head.

Murdock is a temperamental but always welcome presence, lingering far too close to Face's blanket-clad head. "Hiya, Facey." He's got some sort of rich accent going, not consistent enough to place.

"Hi, Murdock." Face sighs, beginning to resign himself to the fact he will sleep no longer.

"Five seconds, then I'm draggin' your ass out of bed." B.A. interrupts Murdock and Face's long standing and delicate dance, making Murdock hiss in frustration.

Face reveals himself from his blanket-y home just as Murdock and B.A. aggressively get nose-to-nose. "Let's get this over with. You got your livestock delivery last night?" Hannibal nods and they all start moving.

The time it takes to get dressed is just long enough for Murdock to almost ruin his high end coffee maker and for Hannibal to start trying to snoop through his accounting books.

"Out we go!" Face leads the way back to the van, handing Hannibal a backup cigar for the one he's nearly bitten down. "I've got some lawyers to impress and undress!"

B.A. rolls his eyes when Hannibal laughs. "The one time that fool is excited about a mission."

Murdock shakes his head rapidly. "That's not true, he's excited about any mission that puts a poor unsuspecting woman in his path."

They're all still poking and prodding at each other as they drop Face off at the entrance of the looming building. It's a familiar dance, so routine that almost forgets to slide into the skin of his current person, Mr Alfred Richmond Mayer III, when the local bank/mob boss walks out to greet him.

If prodded, Face might point this out as the point things all went downhill. To be giggling when introduced to Malcolm Yer, the head of security and leader of the local mob doesn't look good for anyone.

"Are you ready to begin stage two of the interview?" Malcolm almost smiles, rising from his chair. Something cold prickles down the back of Face's back. That cold turns to frostbite when the two goons sitting off to the side haul Face to his feet before he can respond.

He halfheartedly walks along, letting them carry most of his weight as he scans the dark hall that's leading them into the depths of the bank, ceiling getting lower as the walls get thicker and the lights get dimmer.

"This can't be the next stage! Did I make such a bad impression?" Face's gaudy southern accent feels a touch absurd when he considers the fact he might be marching to his death, but he'll never back down from the bluff first. "Did one of my references not answer the phone? I knew I shouldn't've picked Mr. Ol' Terry to vouch for me, he's always been afraid of the waves from them phonelines. I've got plenty of other people that could vouch for me, if you'd kindly take me back out to where the sun shines."

Malcolm interrupts his rambling by pushing a heavy steel door open. "If you want to work for me, Mr. Mayer, especially as a spokesman, you have to know the explicit details of my business." He adjusts his fine silk tie around his neck before patting Face on the chest firmly. "And to trust you with my business, you must trust me with your life."

He steps back and leads them to a small metal chair. It freezes Face's back when he sits down, but he doesn't slouch, focusing on taking slow and deep breaths in and out. Pain is no stranger, but no friend, either. "Is that how this is going to be? I didn't realize you were such ruffians out here in the middle of nowhere."

Face licks his lips, reminding himself how to breath.

In. And Out.

"I can teach you a much more civilized way to go about testing for honor in people without committing several crimes in the process."

Malcolm grabs the knot on Face's silk tie again, this time slowly sliding it tighter and tighter, until his face is burning and his throat clicks every time he tries to breath in. "Are you going to rat on me, Alfie?" His eyes grow dark and oily when he leans close into Face, waiting for him to fight.

Face grabs his wrists and lets himself struggle when his vision starts to spot, fuzzing and fading around the edges. Coughing gives no relief, pressure building in his head as he tries to limply shake Malcolm's hands off him.

Finally, he's rewarded with the tie loosening, only able to suck in a few painful gasps of air before Malcolm is tipping his head back again. Face scrambles, trying to get his tie off and away from him, voice hot and hoarse when he coughs. "Of course not!" He fights the cold hand on his jaw, trying to shake his own tie loose. "No, I told you, I'm not a rat, and I need this job! I'd just like to know I'm going to survive to get the job."

Malcolm takes a step back and wipes his hands on a small handkerchief. "You will, I'll make sure of it." An oily grin slides onto his face as he turns away.

The goon on Face's right slams a meaty fist through the side of his head, making Face glad his mouth is closed when his neck snaps to the side. He groans quietly, trying to breathe through the building ache from his temple to his cheekbone. His eye feels three sizes too big for the socket. "And if I don't?" This time the fist to his stomach doesn't surprise him.

Malcolm lets the two men continue to pulverize Face's sides and torso with indifferent professionalism until there's an audible snap of his rib and he can't cut off the furiously pained 'fuck' off fast enough.

Malcolm chuckles and shrugs, waving a hand. "Then you don't get the job."

They let go and he collapses, crumpling off his chair and wincing when the bone scrapes against itself. His eyes haven't stopped watering, streaming down his cheeks and into his hairline, and the three men are little more than dark shadows in his aching eyes. Slowly, he curls into a protective ball, wondering if his lung is impaled by the way fire lances up and down his side with each shallow exhale. "You break it," he wheezes, biting his split lip to keep from spitting on the intolerable man's face, "you buy it."

Malcolm laughs, obnoxiously long, bending down to brush a hand through Face's matted and sweaty hair. "How much would this cost?" A heavy boot settles on Face's ankle, weight tentative but daring.

"Well, now," Face almost wishes he could stop his mouth, pitch raising the heavier the weight of the boot feels crushing his ankle, "the bone alone will cost you at least a year long contract, the slacks probably a $200 bonus for the dry-cleaning bill, and the custom Italian leather shoes are priceless." He can feel the strain of his tendons holding on to the bending bones, like a metal screw is dug between his foot and ankle. He tries to squirm away, kicking at the leg which he waits for the bone to give, or the tendons to finally start snapping off the bone. "Additionally, I hear people with a limp are not nearly as trustworthy, so you're taking money out of your own pocket, really."

"I love hearing you talk, Alfred." Malcolm laughs, again too heartily and long, like an evil and rich grandpa. "I would never do such a terrible thing to you." The pressure eases instantly, and Face tests to see if he can still roll his ankle and bend his toes. "Walk out of here on your own two feet, come back in two days at 9, and the job is yours."

Face shrugs the creepy head pat off and waves the helping hand away, standing into a hunch all by himself. If he doesn't move or breathe, he doesn't notice the way the line of muscle down the back of his neck burns, or the fact it feels like someone loaded his lungs with magma and stuck firecrackers between his ribs.

He shuffles purposely slow and pained down the dark hallway again. Once out on the street he carefully straightens up and measures each even step, breathing as slowly and smoothly as he can.

Murdock is waiting at the van door with a wide smile. "How'd it go- oh, Facey!" His hands flit uselessly around Face's shoulders as he climbs into the back carefully, but it's too late. The concern thick in Murdock's voice has both B.A. and Hannibal turning in their seat to check on him.

"To the hotel, B.A., right away." Hannibal's voice is light, but stormy.

It takes two slaps to get Murdock from trying to unbutton his shirt. "I'm fine, honestly! He was showing off a little, scare the new recruits to build a traumatizing relationship from the start. That's all." He waves Murdock off one more time, trying to shoo them all away.

"I'd like a report." Hannibal's light voice is sharp as barbed wire once B.A. starts driving.

Face makes a show of carefully flopping back in his seat, starting a truly award winning performance of whining. "You can't be serious! Hannibal, I-"

"Lieutenant. Report." An icy snap from Hannibal kills it immediately.

Face rolls his eyes, wincing when his right eye blurs painfully. Figures Hannibal's in no mood to joke it away. Only when it's most inconvenient for Face.

The report is short and to the point, only mixing in as much irritated sighing and eye-rolling as Face can get away with before the tightrope he's been walking turns into serious trouble.

Murdock, at least, has the sensibilities to play poker with Face during the twenty minute drive out of town. "Straight flush!" He crows, fanning out his empty hand. Face only wishes the cards weren't invisible. He steals Face's cards out of his hand before he can sneak his ace into his sleeve. "It's ten-love now, and I only need two more hands until Pinochle."

"You and I are on a supply run, Crazyman." B.A. interrupts, pulling into their parking spot in front of the small motel.

Face and Murdock both groan, but quiet down when Hannibal glances back at them. Murdock even sends them off with one last salute, quietly humming Taps as Hannibal carefully guides Face into his room. He shoves Face into a chair, surprisingly reminiscent of the thugs from earlier.

"It's a booboo, Hannibal, I'm fully capable of taking care of it on my own." Face starts when Hannibal starts trying to undo his buttons. "And you didn't have to send Murdock away."

Hannibal only eases slightly when Face's shirt is open, revealing the patchwork of greens and yellows, rapidly darkening purples in a few spots. "Not too bad." He hums to himself, poking at each of Face's ribs.

Face holds as still as a statue when his pudgy fingers jab into the broken ribs, but the half inch of extra give and horrible crackling scraping sound must give him away.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn, kid?" Hannibal finally stands up, retrieving a wet cloth and ice. "It's fine to be wounded, as long as you weren't doing anything stupid."

Face rips the ice out of Hannibal's hands to press against his ribs with a scowl. "It's fine until I'm the reason you want to wait an extra month, make that family suffer an extra month. It's fine until Murdock loses a little bit of reality every time I wince and B.A. gets those stupid puppy dog eyes every time I try to move a muscle." Face lets Hannibal tilt his head up easily, closing his eyes when he starts gently rinsing off the dirt and blood from around his eye. "It's fine until you think twice about letting me help on the next mission."

Hannibal laughs at that, face twisting into that clever twinkle that will always get them into trouble. "I never thought I'd see the day that you would be the one begging to get more work during our missions." He sobers up when he brushes the corner of Face's eye and Face jumps like he's been shot. "You're an integral part of our team, Face, we'd never function without you."

"We got pizza!" Murdock shouts as he slams the door open. "I wanted to get pepperoni but ol' mud-sucker here insisted we get Hawaiian instead. Crazy, isn't he?" Murdock dances inside just out of B.A.'s reach when he grabs, laughing and taunting.

"You wanted that abomination, freak!" B.A. starts shouting insults.

Murdock dances over to where Face and Hannibal are watching, sharp eyes cataloging every mark on Face's exposed skin. "Y'ok, Facey?" He whispers softly.

Face can't help the gentle smile when he nods. "'M fine, Murdock, just a little bruising."

He laughs when Murdock kisses him gently on the forehead, then uses him as a human shield to pelt B.A. with rolled up socks out of the closest go-bag.

{ More Whump }

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[kamapon]

im new, and it's a dumb question, but you just mean reposting without credit, right? Reblogging is okay?

Reblogging is ok!!! 🥰🥰🥰

[jennykin]

can we see more pics of your dog please!

[respectthepetty]

Because this is Taiwan, if Chen Yi dies (he won't; he can't!), we'll get an apology tour like we've gotten for the HIStory 3: Make Our Days Count guys, which means we will get guaranteed Nat and Louis cameos in a Taiwanese BL every year compared to the sporadic ones we get for other couples.

If this is the deal I have to make with the devil . . . well, shit!