yourdadssugardaddy

[yourdadssugardaddy]

ily adults!!

the bit where someone (issa) references something and its met with i havent seen that and she says me neither is so real !! technically i have yet to finish house md but also havent i also kinda seen it 3x alr via small clips online

[yourdadssugardaddy]

NOT THAT IM AGAINST PB X ANTON!!

but i wanna see some posts ab adults that isnt just going on ab them!! where are my issa lovers?? samir bitch boy truthers unite where?? (etc etc)

[yourdadssugardaddy]

hilson toxic yaoi moments

[yourdadssugardaddy]

[yourdadssugardaddy]

House M.D. | 1x11 Detox

[yourdadssugardaddy]

something something Charlie’s bedroom is a metaphor for macdennis something about a huge reveal that goes back to being ignored for the sake of status quo etc etc

[yourdadssugardaddy]

Okay so Frank gets the idea to use a vibrating buttplug to cheat at his chess tournament after Mac reveals that he and Johnny use remote sex toys in their LDR, right?

How is this revealed?

They’re all at the bar and Mac is on some weird-looking app and giggling down at his phone. The Gang get curious— the hell is this? — Mac explains, alright so he’s got the buttplug in, right and I just push this button and it’ll instantly vibrate inside him, any kind of tempo or duration I want, and he can do the same to me. The Gang are like that’s fucked up man, what the hell… but give me a turn tho… and Charlie, Frank, and Dee all take turns snatching Mac’s phone to have a go.

Very subtly, off behind the bar, Dennis is having some kind of visual reaction every time someone taps the button.

[yourdadssugardaddy]

oh don't mind me I'm just uhh putting some images together. for no reason at all

[yourdadssugardaddy]

I was re-reading the Always Sunny self help book and i forgot that dennis cannonically thinks Mac is the most attractive of his friends.

[yourdadssugardaddy]

*UH OH SENTIMENTAL THEORY INCOMING, WATCH OUT*

Thinkin about this letters theme this season.... What if it turns out Dennis wrote to Mac while he was away in North Dakota. And what if Charlie (who was FULLY complicit in Dennis tearing up Luthers letters btw), decided to intercept the letters, to protect Mac.

But obviously, Charlie cant fucking read. So he couldnt go through every single one of them like Dennis did, and... he never knew Dennis told Mac he loved him in every. single. one.

[yourdadssugardaddy]

his dick made his board vote decision for him as soon as he walked into that office

[yourdadssugardaddy]

A Torchwood + Bisexuality Moodboard

Keep reading

[yourdadssugardaddy]

ianto jones gay ass hands on hips. reblog my post

[yourdadssugardaddy]

Come up with the most ridiculous, absurd reason Jack died? Feel free to go batsh!t insane. I want to be cracking up in uncontrollable fits for an entire hour.

“I’m so sorry,” Ianto mumbled, buttoning his shirt up as he spoke. His cheeks were flushed maroon, and despite the January chill outside, he felt suddenly, abruptly hot, although whether that was embarrassment, arousal or panic, he didn’t quite know. Perhaps it was all three; the evening’s events had, after all, not panned out exactly as he’d expected them to. “I had no idea you would… that I could…”

He looked down at Jack’s dead body, which was slumped sideways on the floor of his office, still arranged in a vague kneeling position with his eyes open. Ianto had knocked him over while panicking, and rigor mortis had now set in; Jack was stuck like this for the next few minutes, as Ianto tried to compose himself and allay some of his mortification – although that seemed like a vaguely uncomfortable word to be using given the current situation. He took a deep breath and then poked Jack with his toe, trying to think of a slightly nicer way to describe his temporarily-dead-partner than ‘corpse’, which had connotations of… well, general yuckiness, especially given how this incident had come about. The phrasing of that, too, made him wince.

“I’m sorry,” Ianto said again, his tone slightly wheedling as he retrieved his tie from Jack’s desk and put it back on with shaking hands, before looking around for his trousers. Jack had chucked them in the general direction of a filing cabinet, and indeed, there they still were, caught over the edge of a drawer; Ianto snagged them and stepped back into them, buttoning them with shaking hands and trying not to allow himself to worry. It always took Jack a few moments to come to, didn’t it? It wasn’t an instant thing. And surely he’d find this whole situation funny when he woke up, even if it did make Ianto want to disappear into a hole in the ground.

Unfortunate wording, he thought to himself again with a touch of hysteria, and he made a strained laughing, hiccupping sound as he poked Jack again with his socked foot, feeling a touch bolder this time.

“Please wake up,” Ianto implored him. “And we can just laugh about this and move on.”

There was the distant sound of a door banging open, and Ianto let out a muted yelp of horror as he realised what day it was, and what time it was, and cursed himself for forgetting; he was, after all, the one who printed out the rotas and stuck them on the noticeboard. Could he hide? Should he hide? How would he then hide Jack? Surely it would freak Jack out more if he woke up in a cupboard after having died on his office floor, and what if he made a noise of some kind? He usually let out a loud gasping, choking noise when he came back to life, and something about that seemed like it might draw attention, albeit it might also be enough to convince any listeners that they ought to be left alone.

Which, really, they ought to be. Please. For the sake of Ianto’s sanity, and for a quiet next few years.

No, instead there was the distant sound of Owen singing to himself as he strode through the Hub, some terrible punk anthem that undoubtedly involved an awful lot of headbanging as he went. How did anyone do that, Ianto wondered with a degree of irrational hysteria. Didn’t it hurt your head?

Unfortunate wording, his brain supplied again, and he bit back a panicked laugh, looking over at the still-dead Jack, and wondering if he could somehow drag him enough to hide him underneath the desk. He wasn’t sure how clean it might be under there, but at least it would spare him the embarrassment of having to face Owen, and explain… explain… explain…

“Ianto?” Owen asked, and Ianto yelped, spinning around to face him and realising a fraction of a second too late that his fly was still open; his cheeks turned an even more violent shade of scarlet, and he tried to will his colleague not to look at the floor. “What are you doing…” Owen seemed to sense his panic; he looked down and caught sight of Jack’s body. “…here?”

“Filing,” Ianto said, with as much dignity as he could manage; nonchalance was the name of the game now. Casual, easy nonchalance. Nothing to see here. “Just doing some late-night filing.”

“Right,” Owen raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly and thoughtfully in a manner that fully conveyed to Ianto that he knew that he was talking bollocks. “Why’s Jack unconscious?”

“Oh, I hit him with a filing cabinet drawer,” Ianto lied, and Owen’s eyebrows inched closer to his hairline. “Total accident.”

“Is this some kind of kinky sex thing?” Owen teased, and Ianto’s blush deepened. How was that possible? If he turned any redder, he was going to be permanently maroon; there was no coming back from embarrassment like this. “Because if so, I’m not participating in it. I don’t consent to being involved.”

“No!” Ianto shook his head hard, although he knew the reality was far worse. “No, it was just an accident.”

“So why’s your fly open?”

“Is it?” Ianto said unconvincingly, looking down, feigning surprise and then zipping it up one handed. “Oops. So it is.”

“Why isn’t Jack breathing?” Owen continued, taking a step into the office, and Ianto considered – fleetingly – trying to stop him, but instead he dropped to his knees – Ianto barely suppressed a snort – beside Jack, taking his pulse and then looking up at Ianto with an expression that was equal parts amused and horrified. “Please explain. I mean, please explain in a manner that might involve a great deal of lying, to spare my blushes, because I’m a delicate soul and I really, really don’t want to know about your dead-person fetish.”

“It’s not that!” Ianto said at once, fighting the sudden urge to cry. “We were just… doing something, and he didn’t… he didn’t say anything… and the next thing I knew…”

“You’d bonked the boss to death,” Owen concluded, and Ianto felt a brief stab of gratitude that he didn’t appear to be laughing. Yet. “Wow.”

[yourdadssugardaddy]

They hug. They kiss. They dance.

They are in love

in some universe for eternity

[yourdadssugardaddy]

     gwen’s getting married. martha’s got her bloke.      god, even tosh had tommy. this is really shit. we’ve all gone through shit. i’ve seen you dissect alien corpses. seen you save so many lives. you really gonna let this beat you?

[yourdadssugardaddy]

quirked up white boy bussin it down sensual style