#I've been in a few lmao

[ventique18]

Tracing the silhouette of the two of us, I feel it throughout my body-- the magic you cast on me. I want to shorten the distance between us.

Let me stay beside you tonight.

[viyojo]

You're a kid now…🧍‍♂️still a kid now!

[north-noire]

so, uh, i got confirmation that i'm on the spectrum recently so i drew this as a silly joke art ft. my sona, henry and charlie because i also headcanoned them to be on it long before i even got assessed

[vaggieslefteye]

I'm always chasing rainbows...

[catsharky]

I've never posted anything about these 3 on here, but I recently got struck by the urge to draw some longstanding OCs of mine. Nell (human), Fallstreak (alien), and Bas (robot)

Nell is actually who Ember was based on, which is why they look so similar if anyone's curious

[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

[expelliarmus]

[mobius-m-mobius]

OWEN WILSON and TOM HIDDLESTON in LOKI S2

[hongtonie]

ATINYREVIVAL D1: favorite mv > INCEPTION (2020)

[chromaherder]

Byler week day 4: Summer Love During which Mike vows to never do sports again after swallowing a good handful of salt water.

[monsteraficionado]

One of the things that keep bothering me about the whole reaction to Watcher TV is the fully malicious misunderstanding of what Worth It was by people who clearly never watched an episode of it.

It's how people kept insisting that the only thing Steven (because neither Andrew nor Adam were ever mentioned. Much to think about) did was eating gold and ridiculously expensive food, when Worth It always was about showing how excellent food can be found at any price point. One of their earliest featured restaurants, Pasta Sisters, even got to open more locations because of the people visiting because of Worth It.

Especially how Worth It quickly evolved into focusing in highlighting underrepresented cultures, featuring tiny businesses helmed by minorities and showing how haute cuisine isn't only white people cuisine. The highest price point also became lower overtime, and instead of featuring dishes with truffle, caviar and/or gold, they started featuring dishes with incredibly elaborate and labor-intensive recipes.

Worth It always was a celebration of food and how it intertwines with culture, and that is still at the heart of everything Steven Lim does, and if you aren't willing to get this, I instantly know you are just complaining because you like bandwagons and you just aren't worth it.

[vaguely-concerned]

in his and davrin's banters, lucanis exhibits a certain little shit energy I don't think we see him have with anyone else other than illario and honestly I am living for this

[rottmnt-residuum]

How's the move going?

*shaky thumbs up*

[edmunderson]

my dude for femboy friday. fashionwise, i leaned more towards fifth element's version of cyberpunk rather than cyberpunk 2077's. he really likes green :)

[hurglewurm]

ah that holiday depression