#I HAD TO.

[moeyoon]

𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒔 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒑𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 ♡

[chronicowboy]

9-1-1 season 8, episode 6: confessions | fleabag season 2, episode 4

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

While Laika was the name popularized around the world, she had many nicknames including Kudryavka (Russian for Little Curly), Zhuchka (Little Bug), and Limonchik (Little Lemon).

[agnes-draws]

someone help poor alastair

[stackedbirds]

hualian cooking together for tgcf for gaza :)

[twildflower]

[sleeptaken]

[justfranzz]

My addition to the Faulkner light up crocs debate

[wild-god-nick-cave]

I wanna take you out, an innocent and sweet gesture. Wanna take you out to get drinks and watch as you become a slurring mess. Watch as you intoxicate yourself on the shots and the pints. I’ll buy them for you, darlin’. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head over anythin’, you just keep raising the bottle to your pretty cherry lips. You tell me all about whatever your fuzzy mind comes up with, I’ll sit and listen to your slurred speech. You only need to think about keepin’ on pouring the liquor into your mouth. Then I’ll walk you home, watch as you stumble and grip my fingers tighter, trying to feign sobriety for me. When you tumble through my front door and once we’re safe inside, closing the night out. I’ll push you up against the wall, make you feel my erection. Purr in your ear, tellin’ you how pretty you look when you’re all fucked up. How much you turn me on when you’re slurring and lookin’ all dumb for me. I’ll press my body real close to you, make you feel all giddy and excited. Then I’ll pick you up, cos you can barely walk a step without tumbling or falling. Carry you to our bed, and you can leave soppy wet kisses along my neck, and I’ll throw you down upon your back. You can look up at me with your dilated pupils and hazy gaze. You’re so spaced out, huh, darlin? Can barely think? Well that okay, darlin’ I’ll do all the thinkin for you. I’ll pleasure you just how you like it. And I can use you, huh, darlin’? Cos you can’t complain. You’re far too wasted to complain when I fuck you so deep and make you so very full with my cock, huh darlin? I’ll use you like the toy you are. Flip you onto your stomach and fuck your arse u til your screaming my name into the pillows. I’ll use you darlin’. Make you my cum slut. Cos you’re too wasted to complain. You couldn’t complain when i put my shaft into your slurring mouth huh baby? Your eyes will water and you’ll gag, but you’ve been trained for this, huh my little dumb slut. You’re gonna be my good boy. I’ll use you ur body and cum inside you so many times you’ll be able to feel me whenever you move ❤️ you’ll be my good little dumb, slurring slut.

[muqingfx]

pei ming: Are we fighting or flirting?

hua cheng: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

pei ming: Your point?

[annieqattheperipheral]

goalie line!

cale apologizing to juice for the team messing with his save% by going in for a makeout sesh. my god what are those bedroom eyes girl

nate like omg caler pls some couth i get to kiss him first

[57sfinest]

LOGIC -- Let's say, hypothetically, you are a Barbie girl. Okay, let's even say you’re in a Barbie world. Right, so- in this scenario you would obviously know from personal experience that life in plastic is fantastic. Wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that one could brush your hair and undress you literally everywhere? Imagination, you can derive from the fundamentals of basic logic, that life is your creation.

[lavishedlilacs]

Busts down your door

Hi! :3

That's all

[halcyonfawn]

A small made-up whouffaldi kind-of-fanfiction based on this exchange from the first draft of "Mummy in the Orient Express"

Read on AO3. The Doctor and Clara are both stretching and yawning as they let themselves into neighbouring rooms.

"Well, I’m bushed. See you in the morning, Clara."

"Night, Doctor."

Clara pecks him on the cheek. When she pulls away, there's a trace of something red on the Doctor's face.

"Oh. You've got a-"

She pats herself on the cheek slightly.

"What?"

The Doctor seeks the answer in her eyes, but finds nothing there. Clara sighs.

"Lipstick. You've got a spot."

A frown. Then he touches the wrong side of his face. She watches him try to feel something there. All in vain, obviously. Eventually, Clara rolls her eyes and takes the matter into her own hands.

"God, let me do it-"

She attempts to destroy the evidence with her finger, but it's not coming off. She moves closer. Concentrates.

"Ah, I think I've made it worse..."

The Doctor is silent, watching her intensively. A strange feeling rises from his chest up to his throat. Two hearts beat wildly against his ribcage. The feeling seems familiar, but he can't quite put his finger on it.

When his breathing becomes ragged, Clara looks up. Their eyes meet. He stares. She freezes. They stay like that for a while until Clara speaks in a small voice:

"I think... some water might help to wipe this off..."

The Doctor heaves a breath.

"Good idea. Lucky to have a sink in my room."

"Everybody has a sink in their room."

"But not mirrors. And I'll need a mirror. D'you have a mirror?"

"No."

"You always carry a small glass circle with you fussing over it getting lost, and now, when it's needed, you don't have it. Humans."

"This dress has no pockets in it!"

"Well then you should take it off!"

There is an expression on Clara's face he hasn't learned yet. Neither he understands why her nosetrills begin to inflate.

"Right," Clara manages to croak. "I-I'll see you tomorrow."

The Doctor nods but doesn't pull away. Neither does Clara. Instead, her gaze shifts from his eyes to his lips. Oh. There's this feeling again. And not a good one. Not in these circumstances. They stare at each other, breathless, exhausted, barely standing. They should really go to sleep.

And they do.

A few moments later, they're still breathless and exhausted, but this time a comfy bed is there to save them from falling. In fact, they already did. A bunch of times.

The sink that the Doctor is lucky to have is dry. And, as it turns out, he didn't need a mirror because this "lip-stick" was now all over his body and he can't be bothered removing each red mark. It's pretty sticky. On a good note, Clara took his advice and got rid of the useless piece of clothing. Rather ardently, he must add. She really likes having pockets and detests not having them.

"How did this even happen?"

"We said our last hurrah, then you put your lips on my cheek and then some other places-"

"That was a rhetorical question."

They lay in silence until the Doctor finally remembers why that feeling wasn't appropriate for the situation.

"So. About PE-"

"You are not allowed to talk."

[dangerdragoncat]

Oh dear….

Who made the child cry?