#he's back in the closet...

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

historical drama/sitcom where two gay best friends (woman and man) get lavender married--and proceed to spend the Fancy European Honeymoon their parents paid for acting as each other's wingman

[squidflavoredsoup]

fell asleep n woke up to this

i think he put the vid to scare me but he’s been chillin

the he broke my lava lamp

i think he’s still mad abt the closet

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[aunmenosheteroenespanol]

2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered

Tommy's family arc

[aalghul]

"jason was better off dead and haunting the narrative" he was an afterthought brought up as nothing more than a cautionary tale for the vast majority of his appearances while he was dead. very rarely was he ever brought up with love or with the memory of he really was as a person at the forefront. you can just say you don't like jason instead of pretending jason was respected while he was dead

[redbean-nom]

that grey jumpsuit lasted longer than the Galactic Empire

[tommygettingwrittenoff]

when they let eddie diaz out of that mf closet, i am going to become the most petty bitch alive

[druidonity2]

When Anduin was a boy, and nobody was looking, he'd draw upon the war table map all sorts of silly little things. They replaced the maps often, but none were ever thrown away.

[circular-time]

Waris Hussein unveils producer Verity Lambert's blue plaque.

While Anthony Coburn's son throws a hissy fit about a young Black man cast as Doctor Who, I'd like to celebrate director Waris Hussein, a young Black man (as British South Asians were then known) whose thankless task it was to turn Coburn's mediocre caveman script into a vehicle that would hold viewers' attention from the pilot, Unearthly Child, until The Daleks.

Above: Waris Hussein. Below: Sacha Dhawan and Jessica Raine as Waris Hussein and Verity Lambert in An Adventure in Space and Time.

Ten years ago, we got a historical docudrama paying homage to Doctor Who's difficult beginnings, when it was punted to a young minority producer and director expected to fail.

Last spring, the Radio Times published what I assume was one of its primary sources:

The 1963 Doctor Who diaries of Waris Hussein - part 2 - part 3

They're a fascinating read.

But while he's tactfully grateful to Doctor Who for helping launch his career, Waris Hussein has had a long, successful career since then, earning an Emmy, a BAFTA, and a slew of nominations, including one for the 1974 historical miniseries Shoulder to Shoulder (Youtube) on British suffragettes.

Here's a link to a good print interview with him. I also recommend listening to the beginning of this podcast interview, as his voice conveys the thoughtfulness he puts into everything:

(SNS Online is a podcast on all the usual platforms, if you want to look up pt 2.)

*Trivia note: Ian McKellan credits Waris Hussein with his first film role. The young director cut his teeth directing Cambridge peers McKellan, Derek Jacobi and Trevor Nunn (the token straight).

[epiphainie]

exes bucktommy who are fucking in secret... hooking up in the restroom of their karaoke bar because they still have the same friends and they still hang out at the same places. buck agrees to watch jee and whoops look at that, tommy was just dropping off something with chimney and once chimney and maddie leave he just... stays. and fucks buck in their kitchen. eddie lets himself into buck's loft one day and tommy rolls and drops off the bed and stays there till he's sure eddie's gone. buck gets teased about his new hickeys at the station and feels a pang of guilt when hen says maybe he should cover them because tommy is coming over for lunch and the sight of them might just hurt him

[eugeniedanglars]

rewatching early season 1 colin and jamie is so wild like wow those two stupid unlikable assholes are gonna be responsible for some of the saddest most tender heartwrenching emotionally resonant moments of the entire show and they're currently calling nate a bitch

[larrylimericks]

12Jun24

A soul made of plastic and hollowed, In missed exploitation, Si wallowed: If he owned 1D’s name He’d cash in on their fame ... It’s a no from our Lou, who unfollowed.

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x03 - Bye

[ceilidho]

that brahms au for ghost/reader except instead of the burglar breaking in while you're out and encountering Ghost, he breaks in while you're home. and you're so scared and defenceless and suddenly your closet opens and an even bigger, scarier man walks out.

and like if the burglar had a knife or something and was actually threatening to hurt you. Ghost would absolutely lose it on him. he wouldn't be getting out alive, sorry to say. and then after beating him to a pulpy, unmoving mess, Ghost would walk up to you, terrified out of your mind and crying, and pat your cheek, kissing you on the forehead before going back into the closet, closing it quietly behind him.

[rhcenyra]

SUPERSTORE ⇢ 1x05 | SHOPLIFTER

[chronicowboy]

okay pitch for season 8. 911 redux of captain bill hader catching jake and amy making out at work and having a heart attack but gerard walks in on buck and eddie's first ever kiss which inevitably turns into more and just drops fucking dead on the spot.