#all the boys from there are sexy

[fan-de-las-tetas]

I dream about you sometimes. Did you know? I dream about you, about your chocolate eyes looking at me, about your curly hair where my hands belong, about your body against mine, about your laugh, about your stories. I dream about you.

And of course you don't know. you couldn't, i dont let you know. it would kill me.

of course you dont know, because the reason i dream about you is because i dream of apologizing, i dream of you standing tall above me, i dream of you looking me softly and telling me that theres nothing to forgive, i dream of you looking me with rage telling me to go fuck myself, i dream of you and you yell at me, you slap me, you hate me, you stomp away in a fury and you never come back. i dream of you and you kiss me, slowly, passionate, you hug me, love, forgiveness, you and i are on my couch, you and i are together, we are boyfriends.

i still use your boxers as shorts, i still use your t shirt as my pajama, even though i say it will be the last time, right before doing it once again.

three little words dance and die in my throat every time i think of you.

but even though i feel like dying inside, craving, yearning, pining for your touch, i will not call you, i will not text you, i can't. i swear i can't.

because if i do then i might as well indulge in you, if i do then i will get to feel your lips against mine again, i will get to hear your crazy stories, i will get to put my head on your shoulders and smell you, to know you're real. and then i would kiss you and i would want to indulge some more and maybe... fall in love.

and i can't do that, i swore i wouldn't. i swore it when i saw my heart ripped off my chest, bleeding while i saw someone whose name does not belong to them anymore walk out. i swore i wouldn't when three words had the capacity of tearing my heart apart again, the stitches carefully done being ripped by a hug, by a kiss.

and i can't do that to myself, im running out of thread, im running out of space, im running out of tears.

and until i figure it all out, i'll still dream of you, and you won't know. i won't ever let you get close enough to know again.

[marypsue]

Something about The Lost Boys, a deeply, deliberately queer movie all about vampires (so necessarily obsessed with blood transfer/exchange), where being attracted to the wrong person, taking risks around them, taking their tainted blood into your body, will change your life irrevocably and doom you to death, coming out in 1987, and saying that the real source of the majority of the problems caused by sharing tainted blood is a respectable middle-aged middle-class white man obsessed with power, heteronormativity, and the replication and eternal enshrinement of the nuclear family structure, and that the only way to survive and cure the infection is to destroy him...whoooo.

[skunkes]

[haomnyangz]

SUNG HANBIN ARTIST OF THE MONTH (JULY 2024) STUDIO CHOOM

[scashu]

Cross maid dress🙏

I’ve had covid since Thursday so I was excited to finally have the energy yesterday to finish this. There was too many options for me to choose for the colours, I went a bit overboard

Crerror was promised, and I’ll get to it soon…

[gildedmuse]

Listen.... Trafalgar Law is like Opposite Pick Me Girl.

Evidence:

He stole Doffy's whole look down to the shirtless sluttiness, feather coat and the earrings.

He COPIED DOFFY'S ACTIVATION METHOD. How "notice me, senpai!!" is THAT!?

Like Doflamingo, he acts as though your attempts at torturing him are absolutely precious.

Law straight up based his jolly roger on Doffy's. Like it's not even kinda subtle. (Not that Law does subtle. Which is weird for someone trying SO HARD to be dark, mysterious, and edge-y as Kikoku. )

Trafalgar spent years of his life travelling around the world, gaining notoriety and power, putting into place a series of intricate moving parts that all had to come together in just the right way all so Doflamingo would notice him and remember his face forever.

Law: Please, Young amaster-sama! Oh, please pick me!

Law: To kick your pathetic, subhuman ass.

[Thanks to @revlischarm who gave me this idea.]

[54625]

Can't believe there's no Kris and Jack out of context compilations . Such an untapped market . I mean the podcast alone has so much wonderful out of context material because of how random and bizarre their subject matters are and that's without even taking into account all of their sketches and DIwhy vidoes shenanigans

[romance-rambles]

modern clarence | an appropriate staring distance

While at the beach, you take a moment to appreciate your handsome boyfriend while he's taking a nap—and also when he's not.

1.2k, fluff + established relationship, reader is mc, series: none

NAVY BLUE STICKS OUT TO you the moment you open your eyes.

Your aching shoulder protests your decision to stay as you are, on your side, facing a still sleeping Clarence. Like this, he looks much younger—you're reminded of the time you had to force him to take a nap. Like this, he's simply the cute guy you managed to score not one but multiple dates with, just Clarence, instead of the incredibly smart and wonderful and kind Student Council President.

You glance at the circular table set between your two beach chairs, taking note of his glasses resting primly upon its surface. With him often having to juggle two different kinds of glasses, you'd offered to put them in your bag so that he could pack lighter. Or, as light as he can.

Right now, it's awkwardly squished behind you, miraculously still on the chair only because it's too big to fall out the gap under the armrest.

Filling in the blanks comes as easily to you as the smile on your face when you get to see your boyfriend, nearly the same one on your face right now—and the expression that goes with it is so endlessly fond that you find yourself with the urge to hit something.

Simply put, your boyfriend is a handsome man—the most handsome one, of all the men your keen eyes have gazed upon. And gazed, they certainly have. But even if they didn't have to pick, then they would gaze at only Clarence for the rest of their life..

You almost giggle at the thought, but think against it at the last minute.

But pressing your lips firmly into a thin line has the opposite effect on your budding smile. You imagine you look rather strange to anyone who passes by—what with your mockery of a wide smile and the silent scream building up in your throat, paired with the quiet thumping of your feet against the legrest.

If you were in a more private space, you would resort to kicking instead.

A proper squish to your still warm cheeks as you begin to sit up helps ease up the passion swirling chaotically across your body. You exhale, then allow your hands to slide off your face. One side of it bears the consequences of your actions more than the other.

With a one last longing at the sleeping Clarence, you start to dig through your bag for the only thing in your arsenal that could substitute for a sketchbook.

There are a few miscellaneous promotion emails waiting for you on the lockscreen. A message from Cael asking about dinner tomorrow too. Somewhere between them, there's a notice about the weather, with the temperature from an almost hour ago listed uselessly.

You swipe past them all and hurriedly slip into the camera app.

The hand holding your phone steadies itself against the armrest as you swing your legs over the edge of your chair. A thumb hovers over the capture button, vigilantly awaiting your command. The fingers of your other hand, meanwhile, busy themselves with zooming in on the captivating scenery.

With each pinch, the focus grows ever narrow—until all that remains is Clarence and nothing else.

At one point, you try to zoom into the mole under his eye, but it doesn't make for a very compelling photo. After a few attempts, quite a few of which involve staring at your screen for prolonged periods of time, you reluctantly give up.

Your pout is soon covered up by your phone. When its front camera presses against your upper lip, your gaze is free to wander back to the sleeping beauty beside you once more.

A healing effect, exclusive to him, takes hold of you instantaneously.

Eyes brimming with fondness narrow slightly. You slide off your beach chair, hands on your bent knees as you take a closer look. You can make out the shadows cast by his long lashes and the drool dribbling past his chin.

He's perfect.

You're content to stay there until your knees begin to ache, reminding you insistently that this isn't a very comfortable position to be in. As a compromise of some kind, you adjust your arms atop the nearby armrest.

It really would be better if you'd brought your sketchbook along—but, you think, remembering his workaholic tendencies, would he even bother to take a nap then?

You scrunch your nose up at the thought.

In that moment, Clarence seems sense to your presence. When you look back at him, you're greeted with the sight of confusion in his now opened, but still drowsy gaze. He blinks, and it earns him an amused grin from you.

"Morning," you say, though it's well into afternoon.

That seems to wake him up. His cheeks flush a warm pink, and he hurriedly wipes away the drool on his face, as though you haven't already committed the sight to your memory.

Clearing his throat, he responds in kind, careful to sit up in such a way that he avoids looking at you.

"You don't have to be so close...I can see you just fine."

You laugh, not unkindly. "What if I'm the one who's having trouble?"

For a moment, when he turns back to look at you, he looks alarmed. Then, his shoulders relax to the tune of a sigh, his groggy mind apparently having caught onto the fact that you were joking.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for his glasses. But as with the issue of walking into a cave without a flashlight, even if you vaguely recall where your destination is, there's no guarantee you'll actually reach it.

"Give me a second," you mutter, your annoyance making your tone a bit too sharp.

You follow your words up with an apology. His glasses held are carefully by the frames as your sheepish gaze connects with his faintly amused one. Clarence reaches out, getting as far as grasping the slanted tips of the frame before the two of you reach a mutual agreement.

"Well." His cheeks return to being a rosy hue. He coughs politely. "If you would."

Cute. Biting your lip giddily, you shake his grip off. A quick once-over of your surroundings before you stand up shows that no one seems to be paying attention to you. And unless your friends and acquaintences have come to together to unlock the secrets of invisibility, no one you know seems to be present either.

Leaning over, you line his glasses up against his face, the tips of his frame brushing against his cheek. It takes only a moment to slot them into place—and you have enough experience with doing so that they don't snag against his ears.

It takes only a moment longer to give him an innocent peck on the lips.

"There," you murmur, not entirely satisfied with the kiss.

His Adam's apple bobs. Clarence adjusts his glasses with an awkward look that suggests he has some kind of solution to your dilemma. You, of course, beat him to the punch.

"Why—" Your voice cracks a little. "—don't we go find a different spot?"

He smiles, narrowed eyes watching you fondly. "I was about to suggest the same thing."

[heyitsspaceace]

am i the only one who like....didn't like the cat king? and his whole thing? like i think we're all forgetting that the main cast is supposed to be like 16-17, even stated in the show that they're minors, and don't get me wrong, i LOVE the actors, but in what world are those people minors. and feel like that perception skews things a bit. but the characters are canonically minors (and don't come at me with the the "well actually they're"- they're regarded as minors in the show) the whole cat king and edwin stuff is probably my least favorite ship for me right now. no hate to anyone who ships them, like do what you want. i just don't really get the appeal of it

again, no hate to yall at all this is just my personal opinion, everyone is entitled to their own

[teamfortresstwo]

You’re not a real sexyman until someone makes a version of you that’s completely different from your actual character and removed from any of the canon storyline!

[1990mx5]

if you bitches start sexualising ollie bearman i swear i will rip out my jugular THAT IS AN 18 YEAR OLD

[bozhenkamoya]

thinking about armand and armand and armand and armand and-

[skitskatdacat63]

2005 Japanese Grand Prix - Kimi Räikkönen(ft. Fernando Alonso & Giancarlo Fisichella)

+ Jenson Button

[geopvnk]

thinking about carver resenting everyone knowing hawke as hawke and him as junior or the little brother when it's his last name too -> thinking about wardens usually dropping their family names when they join the order as they leave behind the people they were before + their old loyalties and attachments. warden carver.

[seaweedstarshine]

Haters call eleven straight Doctor because he’s attracted to older women, when his type is clearly just morally questionable people who look middle-aged (he calls Churchill “dear,” don’t forget. he never calls Amy or Clara that. Churchill is in the same category as River and the TARDIS).

[lovvedaggers]

Zorro isn't a hot quasi-latino anymore???