#it's not my fault

[leysaray]

queen b 🔁 crying b

[thebibliosphere]

"I'll just repot this plant," I say, not wanting to over-exert myself because I'm in a flare-up, assuming that my ADHD ass can ever just do one task and not end up on a ladder 20 minutes later drilling new holes in the wall to hang more plants.

(It's fine, Mothman supervised.)

[fake-married-my-dead-fiance]

The Judge from Hell Text posts 1/?

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: for as long as it takes

I'm having feelings about middle-aged msr + I'm in the mood for angst. That's rarely a good combination. There's a good chance I'll decide to be nice to them later, though! Here, have a little pre-revival ficlet with feelings.

He doesn’t mean to do it. He really doesn’t. It’s crossing all the boundaries they’ve set, but he misses her so much he’s paralyzed with longing. His hands won’t obey his mind. He barely manages to pick up the phone, then hangs up on her with a spike of panic when she answers. He doesn’t want to break the rules. He respects the rules. The rules are their only hope.

She calls him back, but he doesn’t pick up, instead waits for the phone to stop ringing and then texts her “I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just called your number by mistake.” She doesn’t text him back. He drops onto the couch and buries his face in his hands.

He’s managed to get up and stand by the kitchen counter, wanting to make coffee but unable to remember how to move his hands, when he hears the sound of a car outside.

He squeezes his eyes closed and doesn’t cry. He even knows the sounds of her parking her car. He recognizes the specific sound of her closing her car door. Her footsteps outside, and then her knock on the door. “Mulder?” she calls.

His feet begin their walk towards the door, drawn to her like a moth to the flame. He’ll burn himself on her if that’s the only way he can be near her. He even knows the sounds of her unlocking the door. And then she’s standing inside their house—his house—before he’s even crossed the room.

“Mulder,” she says, a look of concern in her eyes.

“Scully,” he says. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” She stops, and he has no trouble reading the expression on her face. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to know. She couldn’t stop herself from driving out here any more than he could stop himself from calling her. “You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you did.” She doesn’t add that she didn’t believe him. That she still doesn’t believe him. He knows her entirely. He keeps forgetting that she knows him just as well.

When she closes the door behind her, she locks them into a vacuum and he can’t breathe. His lungs won’t fill with air. Danger hangs between them, disaster and destruction. “I was going to make coffee,” he says. “Do you want a cup?”

“No.” Her eyes aren’t leaving his face for a second. “Thank you.”

They move at the same time, closing the distance, meeting in the middle. The kiss starts hungry and grows more frantic as her coat drops to the floor and her fingers fight with the button of his jeans. He walks her backwards to the couch leaving clothes in their wake, and then she’s naked underneath him and he wonders how she got even more beautiful since the last time he saw her like this.

He wants to take it slow but he knows time is ticking away. Even as she draws him closer and wraps her legs around him, he can see regret in her eyes and he feels it echoing deep in his bones. This is going to break him and he’ll let it.

She closes her eyes as he pushes into her. That familiar pleased exhale she lets out once he’s all the way inside… it cuts into his heart until he has to close his eyes against the pain. She used to do this every time they came back together, every time they found a moment after life had kept them busy.

“Please,” she whispers, and he rocks into her, feels her hands on his back, her body welcoming him home.

He thought he’d never do this again. He hoped he’d get to do this again. But not like this, not in a stolen moment that will cease to exist after she leaves. It’ll leave him devastated no matter how thoroughly they’ll pretend it didn’t happen.

She doesn’t speak again and neither does he. But she lifts her head, kisses the corner of his eye, his cheek, the side of his neck, and he finds that he’s crying.

Her legs are tightening around him and he snaps his hips forward in short, hard thrusts; he knows what she likes, the sound of her moans tells him exactly what she needs. He doesn’t care whether he’s gonna come or not, as long as she does. If he can no longer make her happy in any other way, he wants to give her this at least.

She fists her hands into his hair and pulls his head up, crashes her mouth against his in a kiss that’s brutal and tender at the same time. She bites his bottom lip, invades his mouth with her tongue, takes him the way he’s taking her with every push into her perfect, tight body. The nails of her other hand are breaking the skin where they dig into his shoulder. He wants her to make him bleed. He wants it to sting after she’s gone.

He can tell that she’s getting close. She’s clenching around him, her heels digging into his ass, begging him to go deeper, and her desperate whimpers rip through every last protective layer around his heart. He’s hers.

She throws her head back and her hands take his upper arms in a death grip as she arches off the couch. She’s coming hard and he fucks her harder; if he’s gonna be feeling this forever, he wants her to remember it too.

His own orgasm hits him out of nowhere, so intense he cries out, his body shaking as he pulses inside her. And for a moment, it’s all real, too real. It can’t end; their love is a law of nature.

She’s panting underneath him and he holds himself up on trembling arms, finds her lips in another kiss. This one is slow and gentle. They’re already broken. There’s nothing left to hide.

They still don’t speak as she pushes at his chest and they sit up, his body throbbing with the ebbing waves of forbidden pleasure.

“I should go,” she says. She’s still breathing hard, her skin is flushed, and he doesn’t have the strength to feel the overwhelming unhappiness that will wash over him in a few minutes.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

They get dressed in silence. He wonders if there’s any way to fix this.

Before she leaves, her hand already on the doorknob, she looks back at him, and it’s the soul-deep sadness in her eyes that gives him hope.

“You know that I love you, right?” she asks, and he nods.

“Yes,” he says. “I know.” He does. That’s the worst part. “I love you too.”

“I know,” she says, and finds a smile for him that’s full of despair.

And then she’s gone, and he hears her footsteps on the porch, hears the closing of her car door, hears her driving away.

He’s cried all his tears for today. There are no more. They’ll come back later. He’ll cry over everything they’ve lost for as long as it takes. For as long as it takes until she’s ready to come home. He’ll be right here, waiting for her. He hopes she knows that too.

---

Optional fluffy part 2 this way

[andillwriteyouatragedy]

sometimes blorbo is a 67 y/o man on apple tv

[mayapapaya33]

My only complaint about Conclave is the dogshit subtitles. The movie being in multiple languages is actually really cool. But if your movie is going to be in multiple languages, for fucks sake, translate it you bastards. ALL OF IT. Even the supposed "throw away lines" whatever tf that means. [Speaking in Italian] is lazy garbage and makes me want to scream and break something and I hate it and you. Gee thanks, I hadn't noticed they were speaking Italian WHAT ARE THEY SAYING!?!?!

[thepigeonsfanart]

I have gotten in trouble a couple of times because of the scene in the brick where Marius tells Gillenormand that Courfeyrac is dead and he replies "that is good", because I have the inside joke with myself of replying "that is good" whenever someone tells me a bad new

Oh you failed an exam??? That is good

[rainbowsuitcase]

*extremely tired writer voice* this was supposed to be a short gen fic but now they're horny

[anonymous-gambito]

Imagining Saionji and Nanami friendship that might make them better or might make them worse but also imagining Touga reacting to this friendship in similar fashion to Clay Puppington reacting to Orel and Coach Stopframe hanging out at the end of the show. Dude's just there hiding somewhere spying on them and then him and Tsuwabuki end up startling each other

[futurepastme]

George and Merlin being friends

I couldn't resist, direct follow up from Gaius and Merlin have dinner.

I don't care how out of character George is acting, them being silly friends is cute. Maybe too cute.

George deserves to be more than a bad Merlin replacement.

Merlin nodded goodbye and joined George, closing the door behind them.

They followed through Camelot’s hallways silently, walking side by side, neither of them minding to keep a conversation, until they walked past one of the entrances to the servant’s quarters and George kept walking along with Merlin. 

“Are you not done yet, George?”

“Ah, yes, I just need Prince Arthur’s dismissal from the day.”

Merlin spinned around, stopping in front of George with both hands on his shoulders. He could feel him tense up a little, from the surprise or from the touch, Merlin didn’t know.

“You don’t need his dismissal, George, I’ll take over from here.”

George got even more tense, and Merlin decided to let go of him. “I don’t know, Merlin, he really hasn’t dismissed me after asking for you.”

Merlin’s eyebrows went up at the absurdity, but at the same time he offered George a kind smile. “George, you are dismissed. If anyone - even Prince Arthur - has any problem with it in the morning, you come to me and I’ll face the consequences.” George’s eyes grew bigger and he started to shake his head.

“Honestly, George, I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” He filled his lungs with air, straightened his posture, and looked directly at George’s worried eyes. “As the Prince’s manservant I outrank you, - bullshit if you ask me but still true, so - as your superior, I Merlin Hunithson, dismiss you from your duties of the day and give you permission to retire.” He finished with a sly smile.

George’s eyes grew even bigger and his eyebrows raised, but then Merlin could see a small smile trying to escape from the corner of his mouth and his features began to soften.

“In that case,” George made a flourish with his arm and bowed down - a low, waist bending bow that made Merlin freeze with a weird smile. “By your leave, My Lord.”

Merlin stared at him for a moment before letting a small laugh escape. George looked at him smiling as he straightened up, Merlin’s laugh grew and George joined him. Merlin then threw one arm around George’s shoulders and fake dried non-existent tears with the other. “Seriously, though, address me with a title again and I’ll pull your ears with such strength that they’ll end up bigger than mine.” He said in jest, making sure to let it show in his face that he was joking. I mean, he was partially joking, but he hopes George takes the threat a little seriously. 

George lowered his head with a smile and escaped from Merlin’s arms. “Better not risk it then, Merlin it is.”

Merlin stares at this very uncharacteristic secret side of George that he just uncovered and he finds that George is not just a good guy and a great servant, but also quite funny and seemingly great friend material. “Thank you, George, for taking care of Prince Arthur today.”

George smiled, “Just doing my job… Sire!”

“That’s it! Big ears to you!” Merlin raised his hands ominously towards George’s ears and slowly walked forward.

George yelped and ran down the way they came with a little laugh. “Goodnight Merlin, Sir!”

“Night, George!” Merlin yelled back and watched Geroge disappear through the servant’s quarters entrance.

[youchangedmedestiel]

I just saw that post and this idea came to me (it might be weird though, you've been warned):

Another Supernatural universe where ghosts are able to have sex. But they can only do that while being in the proximity of an angel, a piece of Heaven where everything can be material again and touch is finally possible.

At some point, Dean dies, but since he's not sure to go in Heaven, he becomes a ghost. Plus, Sam is there in the living world so he can't go. He misses touch though. He misses sex. He misses Cas.

When he approaches him for the first time, thinking Cas can't see him nor feel him he strokes the angel's cheek tenderly. The angel freezes. "Dean?" He whispers and touches Dean's hand with his. "Cas? You can feel that?" Dean is surprised. "Yes." Cas answers softly and then there's only silence between them while Dean slowly appears in front of him. Standing there, as if he was alive, feeling warm even.

Seconds later, they're in each other's arms, hugging and so naturally switching to kissing each other's lips. Dean's body feels real again. He can feel every nerve waking up under Cas's touch. His skin warming up with each stroke. He rediscovers those sensations of human touch and pleasure. He discovers new ones. More intense. More real somehow. More intoxicating.

He almost wishes he'd died sooner.

[clonerightsagenda]

Catsitting tonight! Meat will keep me warm during the -30 windchill or whatever the fuck it's going to be. I say this now and he will probably go sleep on the sofa instead to spite me

[tereladea]

i feel no shame

[djarinova]

mdni - dom/sub dynamics, restraints mentioned, reader wears a mini skirt (but is gn otherwise)

you know how it's common for people in high power, high stress jobs to seek a break from all of the dominance they have to exude during their day to day life by being submissive in the bedroom?

yeah that doesn't apply to zayne.

that man lives to dom you. he needs that power and control over you, because even though, yes, he is the best at what he does as a doctor, he often doesn't feel entirely in control while he works—patients refusing to listen, people running late, constantly being pulled back and forth between people, places and emergencies.

which means he loves to come home to you and have everything be simple and easy and controlled. for zayne there's nothing quite like the feeling of security and safety that you give him. he knows that you depend on him, and he loves that he can depend on you too.

and when he comes home to find you on your shared bed—your flimsy attempts to tie yourself down evident by the pout on your face and the strewn about silk on the sheets—with his favourite mini skirt on, he cant help but smile. and as he stalks towards you with half lidded eyes and his own hands already working to undo his navy tie he thinks to himself that the look of anticipation running through your eyes, coupled with the shudder that raked your body when you saw him, is enough to make any sane man lose their mind.

[guangguangsclock]

DON'T HURT HIM HE'S A STAR

[mayapapaya33]

Sorry Aabria, I'm trying to be sad about Evan getting exploded by K, but every time you say "yellow iceberg" there is nothing in my brain except yellow snow jokes. Are they headed towards an Iceberg made of pee? (or being generous, pollen) I'm sensing a thematic color wheel thing with each color representing some sort of creature or island or magic thing and I get it. All I'm saying is maybe pick a different color for ice and snow lmfao.