#also yes this is a picture from in their house

[caustinen]

Callum's LV campaign is sooo #hollywood au coded!

I know Gale is too shy but arghghgh can you imagine them in a brand campaign? Or Vogue photoshoot? Dayum.

oh oh oh how i’ve missed this au, thank you for this!!!! since i already headcanoned gale would feel to awkward posing i’ll let everyone decide for themselves if this is au of an au or did john manage to talk him into it after they did their private photoshoot 🤭

we’re trying another social media au today!! idk if it works in this format but i hope you enjoy <3

@_vogue_

EXCLUSIVE: ”He keeps me wanting to be better, as a human and as an actor” — Be the first two see new exclusive pictures of John Egan and husband Gale Cleven-Egan posing for this month’s #VOGUE cover shoot in brand new Louis Vuitton! ❤️‍🔥

Comments

@_hollyB34: sigh since vogue didn’t bother with alt texts i’ve got you covered (but we expect more from you @_vogue_ get your shit together)

photo 1: john leaning at a wall in white coat facing the camera, gale is on his right as if walking away but they’re holding hands

photo 2: picture taken from the side, gale leaning against the wall with right hand on the elbow of the left one and looking away from the camera, john has his right hand on the wall next to his head and he’s staring down at him kind of towering over him crowding him into the wall

photo 3: close up of their hands holding the same louis vuitton bag, john’s fingers looking much bigger than gale’s delicate hand, two of john’s fingers streches to cover gale’s

photo 4: standing side by side, john’s arm around gale’s shoulders and gale is holding that hand with one of his and the other is wrapped around john’s middle, they’re looking at each other.

photo 5: close-up of just their faces, gale is holding the back of his hand to his lips and covering laughing, john is staring at him with the worst case of heart eyes you’ve ever seen, he’s also smirking

photo 6: john staring at the camera, hands on gale’s waist, gale’s back is facing the camera and he’s leaned into john’s torso, cheek resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his middle. Keep reading…

@_clegan4ever: did i die. is this heaven.

@_rosiecheeks: if someone told me a year ago clegan would actually drop this kind of blessing upon us i would’ve laughed them out ALAS HERE WE ARE HOW ARE WE FEELING

@_egansgrl: why does that bag photo look POSESSIVE it’s literally just hands asdf like chill man ain’t no one taking him away from you

@_adamadam: it’s literally insane how the two most attractive people in the world found each other??? and actually seem like a good match???

@—keirak77: no offense to egan but damn his hubby should be a model fr

@_€urovizion: gale would literally tower over me HOW DOES HE LOOK SO TINY NEXT TO HIM john do be built like a brick house

@_cleganists: i want to cry the fact that they’re willing to share this with us despite of everything they’ve been through with the media over the years :((((

@_buckholic: THANK HEAVENS THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING THESE TWO MEN

@_ourbaby82: john is serving so hard i’m amazed the camera didn’t just melt

@_CLEGANUPDATES: #clegan has been trending worldwide for 6 hours

@_marymecurtb: so much to unpack here but like the sexiest part of this is literally the way they look at each other. like how are you together for like a decade and still be this down bad for each other omg

@_misscleven: i wouldn’t mind being squished in the middle of this sandwitch

@_johnegans: oh damn that gale cleven-egan truly is the finest piece of ass i ever saw on a cover of a magazine that john egan is one lucky bastard

@_CLEGANUPDATES: ASDFHAFAHAJAVAJSK JOHN LMAO

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

”John?” ”Yes, dear?”

John doesn’t look up from his phone from where he’s half laying across their bed waiting for Gale to be ready. They’re seeing Sabrina for her LA show tonight, and Gale has helped him with the glitter on his face before disappearig back to the bathroom to get ready himself.

Gale’s tone is filled with suspicion but not accusing — yet. ”Do you happen to know why John Brady has called me 12 times?” John makes an exaggerated ”thinking face”, and he can practically feel Gale squint his eyes at him. ”…No idea. You’ve been friends with him longer, your guess is better than mine!” Gale looks at him for a moment more before talking again.

”Mm-hm. Somehow I get the feeling he’s calling not as my friend but as your publicist.”

John finally looks up and he can’t help but let his face fall into a smirk as he sees Gale assessing at him with his eyes. He gets up from the bed and walks up to his husband who’s still following him with his eyes. ”Who knows? Probably phoning to congratulate us on a beautiful photoshoot.”

He delights in the blush on Gale’s cheeks, visible even underneath the glitter hearts. He looks adorable, and delicious, and John can’t wait to see his current favorite popstar but he also can’t wait to get back home with his hubby and try whatever position she suggests during Juno with him.

”Oh yeah, that came out today…” Gale mutters and looks down, and while the blush truly is so cute, John knows they need to get going soon. He tilts Gale’s face back up by his chin and pecks on his lips gently.

”They love it. They love you.” He considers it for a moment, getting lost in Gale’s eyes, before smirking again dropping his hand to squeeze his ass. ”I think I even recall someone calling you the hottest piece of ass they’ve ever seen on the comments.”

Gale rolls his eyes. ”That’s not what I- Nevermind.” He sighs and pushes John away but his husband can tell the blush is a pleased one now. One day he will make him believe how beautiful he is and he won’t need these constant reminders (John’s gonna keep giving them anyway, of course).

”Should we get going then?” He asks casually, and Gale has just had time to nod when his phone starts ringing again. He checks the ID and frowns. ”It’s Brady again. I’ll get this and then we can go.”

Bucky responds with a seemingly careless uhm but grimances as he turns to face the other way. He’s just made it to the door when the scandalized yell of JOHN CLARENCE EGAN fills the air.

”I’ll wait at the car sweetheart!” he yelps back and starts running. He even makes it down two sets of staris before Gale manages to tackle him down.

[gardenwalrus]

Thelma Pickles, John Lennon’s first girlfriend at Liverpool College of Art, on her relationship with John 

My first impression of John was that he was a smartarse. I was 16; a friend introduced us at Liverpool College of Art when we were waiting to register. There was a radio host at the time called Wilfred Pickles whose catchphrase was "Give them the money, Mabel!". When John heard my name he asked "Any relation to Wilfred?", which I was sick of hearing. Then a girl breezed in and said, "Hey John, I hear your mother's dead", and I felt absolutely sick. He didn't flinch, he simply replied, "Yeah". "It was a policeman that knocked her down, wasn't it?" Again he didn't react, he just said, "That's right, yeah." His mother had been killed two months earlier. I was stunned by his detachment, and impressed that he was brave enough to not break down or show any emotion. Of course, it was all a front. When we were alone together he was really soft, thoughtful and generous-spirited. Clearly his mother's death had disturbed him. We both felt that we'd been dealt a raw deal in our family circumstances, which drew us together. During the first week of college we had a pivotal conversation. I'd assumed that he lived with his dad but he told me, "My dad pissed off when I was a baby." Mine had too – I wasn't a baby, I was 10. It had such a profound effect on me that I would never discuss it with anyone. Nowadays one-parent families are common but then it was something shameful. After that it was like we were two against the world.

I went to his house soon after. It seemed really posh to me, brought up in a council house. We were alone, he showed me round and we had a bit of a kiss and a cuddle in his bedroom. Paul and George came round and we all had beans on toast, then they played their guitars in the kitchen. I had to leave early because Mimi wouldn't allow girls in the house. She was very strict. She wouldn't let him wear drainpipe trousers so he used to put other trousers over the top and remove them after he left the house. We used to take afternoons off to go to a picture-house called the Palais de Luxe where he liked to see horror films. I remember we went to see Elvis in Jailhouse Rock at the Odeon. He didn't take his glasses. We were holding hands and he kept yanking my hand saying, "What's happening now Thel?" John was enormous fun to be with, always witty, even if it was a cruel wit. Any minor frailty in somebody he'd detect with a laser-like homing device. We all thought it was hilarious but it wasn't funny to the recipients. Apart from the first instance, where he mocked my name, I never experienced it until I ended our relationship. We were close until around Easter of the following year, 1959. At an art school dance he took me to a darkened classroom. We went thinking we'd have it to ourselves but it was evident from the din that we weren't alone. I wasn't going to have an intimate soirée with other people present. I refused to stay, and he yanked me back and whacked me one. He had aggressive traits, mainly verbal, but never in private had he ever been aggressive - quite the opposite. Once he'd hit me that was it for me, I wouldn't speak to him. That one violent incident put paid to any closeness we had. I took care to not bump into him for a while. I didn't miss drinking at Ye Cracke with him but I missed the closeness we had. Still, we were friendly enough by the end of the next term. Because he did no work, he was on the brink of failure, so I loaned him some of my work, which I never got back. I've never wondered what might have been. It sounds disingenuous, but I wouldn't like to have been married to John – that would be quite a gargantuan task! He would've been 70 next year and I just cannot imagine a 70-year-old John Lennon. I'd be fearful that the fire would've gone out.

- Interview within Imogen Carter, ‘John Lennon, the boy we knew’, The Guardian (Dec 2009)

Thelma also briefly dated Paul McCartney and later married Mike McCartney’s bandmate, Roger McGough, in 1970.

Thelma also gives more detail of her relationship with John in Ray Coleman's 1984 John Lennon biography. Just to note, she mentions towards the end of the section that their romantic relationship just petered out, and John was never physically violent with her - it's likely the case that by the 2009 Guardian interview above, she would've felt more free to speak about John hitting her as the reason for the relationship's end, rather than this being two contrasting stories.

A year younger than John, Thelma was to figure in one of his most torrid teenage affairs before he met Cynthia.  Their friendship blossomed in a spectacular conversation one day as they walked after college to the bus terminus in Castle Street. In no hurry to get home, they sat on the steps of the Queen Victoria monument for a talk.  ‘I knew his mother had been killed and asked if his father was alive,’ says Thelma. ‘Again, he said in this very impassive and objective way: “No, he pissed off and left me when I was a baby.” I suddenly felt very nervous and strange. My father had left me when I was ten. Because of that, I had a huge chip on my shoulder. In those days, you never admitted you came from a broken home. You could never discuss it with anybody and people like me, who kept the shame of it secret, developed terrific anxieties. It was such a relief to me when he said that. For the first time, I could say to someone: “Well, so did mine.”’ 

At first Thelma registered that he didn’t care about his fatherless childhood. ‘As I got to know him, he obviously cared. But what I realised quickly was that he and I had an aggression towards life that stemmed entirely from our messy home lives.’ Their friendship developed, not as a cosy love match but as teenage kids with chips on their shoulders. ‘It was more a case of him carrying my things to the bus stop for me, or going to the cinema together, before we became physically involved.’ John, when she knew him, would have laughed at people who were seen arm in arm.’ It wasn't love's young dream. We had a strong affinity through our backgrounds and we resented the strictures that were placed upon us. We were fighting against the rules of the day. If you were a girl of sixteen like me, you had to wear your beret to school, be home at a certain time, and you couldn't wear make-up. A bloke like John would have trouble wearing skin-tight trousers and generally pleasing himself, especially with his strict aunt. We were always being told what we couldn’t do. He and I had a rebellious streak, so it was awful. We couldn't wait to grow up and tell everyone to get lost. Mimi hated his tight trousers and my mother hated my black stockings. It was a horrible time to be young!’ Lennon's language was ripe and fruity for the 1950s, and so was his wounding tongue. In Ye Cracke, one night after college, John rounded on Thelma in front of several students, and was crushingly rude to her. She forgets exactly what he said, but remembers her blistering attack on him: ‘Don't blame me,’ said Thelma, ‘just because your mother's dead.’ It was something of a turning point. John went quiet, but now he had respect for the girl who would return his own viciousness with a sentence that was equally offensive. ‘Most people stopped short,' says Thelma. ‘They were probably frightened of him, and on occasions there were certainly fights. But with me, he met someone with almost the same background and edge. We got on well, but I wasn't taking any of his verbal cruelty.’

When they were together, though, the affinity was special, with a particular emphasis on sick humour. Thelma says categorically that John and she laughed at afflicted or elderly people ‘as something to mock, a joke’. It was not anything deeply psychological like fear of them, or sympathy, she says. ‘Not to be charitable to ourselves, we both actually disliked these people rather than sympathised,’ says Thelma. ‘Maybe it was related to being artistic and liking things to be aesthetic all the time. But it just wasn't sympathy. I really admired his directness, his ability to verbalise all the things I felt amusing.’ He developed an instinctive ability to mock the weak, for whom he had no patience.  He developed an instinctive ability to mock the weak, for whom he had no patience. In the early 1950s, Britain had National Service conscription for men aged eighteen and over who were medically fit. John seized on this as his way of ridiculing many people who were physically afflicted. ‘Ah, you're just trying to get out of the army,’ he jeered at men in wheelchairs being guided down Liverpool's fashionable Bold Street, or ‘How did you lose your legs? Chasing the wife?’ He ran up behind frail old women and made them jump with fright, screaming 'Boo' into their ears. ‘Anyone limping, or crippled or hunchbacked, or deformed in any way, John laughed and ran up to them to make horrible faces. I laughed with him while feeling awful about it,’ says Thelma. ‘If a doddery old person had nearly fallen over because John had screamed at her, we'd be laughing. We knew it shouldn't be done. I was a good audience, but he didn't do it just for my benefit.’ When a gang of art college students went to the cinema, John would shout out, to their horror, ‘Bring on the dancing cripples.’ says Thelma. ‘Perhaps we just hadn’t grown out of it. He would pull the most grotesque faces and try to imitate his victims.’ 

Often, when he was with her, he would pass Thelma his latest drawings of grotesquely afflicted children with misshapen limbs. The satirical Daily Howl that he had ghoulishly passed around at Quarry Bank School was taken several stages beyond the gentle, prodding humour he doled out against his former school teachers. ‘He was merciless,’ says Thelma Pickles. ‘He had no remorse or sadness for these people. He just thought it was funny.’ He told her he felt bitter about people who had an easy life. ‘I found him magnetic,’ says Thelma, ‘because he mirrored so much of what was inside me, but I was never bold enough to voice.’  Thel, as John called her, became well aware of John's short-sightedness on their regular trips to the cinema. They would ‘sag off’ college in the afternoons to go to the Odeon in London Road or the Palais de Luxe, to see films like Elvis Presley in Jailhouse Rock and King Creole. ‘He’d never pay,’ says Thelma. ‘He never had any money.’ Whether he had his horn-rimmed spectacles with him or not, John would not wear them in the cinema. He told her he didn’t like them for the same reason that he hated deformity in people: wearing specs was a sign of weakness. Just as he did not want to see crutches or wheelchairs without laughing, John wouldn't want to be laughed at. So he very rarely wore his specs, even though the black horn-rimmed style was a copy of his beloved Buddy Holly.  ‘So in the cinema we sat near the front and it would be: “What’s happening now, Thel?” “Who’s that, Thel?” He couldn’t follow the film but he wouldn’t put his specs on, even if he had them.’

[...] It was not a big step from cinema visits and mutual mocking of people for John and Thelma to go beyond the drinking sessions in Ye Cracke. ‘It wasn't love’s young dream, but I had no other boyfriends while I was going out with John and as far as I knew he was seeing nobody except me.’  On the nights that John's Aunt Mimi was due to go out for the evening to play bridge, Thelma and John met on a seat in a brick-built shelter on the golf course opposite the house in Menlove Avenue. When the coast was clear and they saw Mimi leaving, they would go into the house. ‘He certainly didn’t have a romantic attitude to sex,’ says Thelma. ‘He used to say that sex was equivalent to a five-mile run, which I’d never heard before. He had a very disparaging attitude to girls who wanted to be involved with him but wouldn’t have sex with him. ‘“They’re edge-of-the-bed virgins,” he said.  ‘I said: “What does that mean?” ‘He said: “They get you to the edge of the bed and they’ll not complete the act.” ‘He hated that. So if you weren’t going to go to bed with him, you had to make damned sure you weren’t going to go to the edge of the bed either. If you did, he’d get very angry. ‘If you were prepared to go to his bedroom, which was above the front porch, and start embarking on necking and holding hands, and you weren’t prepared to sleep with him, then he didn’t want to know you. You didn’t do it. It wasn’t worth losing his friendship. So if you said, “No”, then that was OK. He’d then play his guitar or an Everly Brothers record. Or we’d got to the pictures. He would try to persuade you to sleep with him, though.  ‘He was no different from any young bloke except that if you led him on and gave the impression you would embark on any kind of sexual activity and then didn’t, he'd be very abusive. It was entirely lust. 

[...] Thelma was John’s girlfriend for six months. ‘It just petered out,’ she says. ‘I certainly didn’t end it. He didn’t either. We still stayed part of the same crowd of students. When we were no longer close, he was more vicious to me in company than before. I was equally offensive back. That way you got John’s respect. Her memory of her former boyfriend is of a teenager ‘very warm and thoughtful inside. Part of him was gentle and caring. He was softer and gentler when we were alone than when we were in a crowd. He was never physically violent with me - just verbally aggressive, and he knew how to hurt. There was a fight with him involved once, in the canteen, but he’d been drinking. He wasn’t one to pick a fight. He often enraged someone with his tongue and he’d been on the edge of it, but he loathed physical violence really. He’d be scared. John avoided real trouble.’

- Within Ray Coleman, John Winston Lennon: 1940-66 vol.1 (1984)

[redheadspark]

Hi! May I have Oliver Wood with #10, please?

A/N - Awww I love this! Thanks for the request, anon!

Repeat

Summary - Oliver hears something that makes him stop in his tracks

Warnings - Just fluff

“Alright, we need to talk about the Holidays coming up!”

“Do we?”

“Yes!  Especially since your mum is expecting me to come to dinner at least once!”

Oliver rolled his eyes and placed his playbook down in his lap, seeing you perched in the armchair across from him while the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace was crackling with a roaring fire.  Thankfully, it was just the two of you, since the rest of Gryffindor House was either out and about or winding down for the night.  The first signs snowfall was coming through Hogwarts Valley with the first snowfall hitting the castle that evening and chilling temperature.  Thankfully, with the magic that was all over Hogwarts, every room was toasty warm with barely any breeze coming through the corridors or in the class rooms.

The Christmas Holidays were coming around the corner, most of the students were planning on getting on the Hogwarts Express to head home for the two week holiday.  You and Oliver included, the pair of you planning on visiting each other’s homes since your families knew one another for years.  It was also nice that you both lived very close to one another, 3 miles from each other’s homes in a small muggle community.  It was almost a running gag when you two were kids that you both would end up together as a couple, to which both yourself and Oliver denied it and claimed to be friends.

You ended up being together since your 3rd year, to the delight of both sets of parents.

Now in your 7th year, yourself and Oliver wished to enjoy your last year of Hogwarts together as much as you could before the real world would come into play.  It was nice that you both had some plans lined up and what you wished to do as careers, Oliver having plenty of money saved up from chores in the summer to get the pair of you a small little apartment.  You too had some money, and the apartment he found was close to his aunt in case the pair of you needed anything.  

But for now, you were enjoying the holiday season as it was coming around the corner.  You had another week at Hogwarts before going on the train back home, and you wished to hammer out some of the details with Oliver.  Yet true to his fashion, he was pushing it off to the last minute. Of course he had other things to work on, including The Gryffindor Team that was on the path to winning against Slytherin.  

“My mum wants you to come over Christmas Eve, and I know your mum wants me over Christmas night, right?” You asked him as watched up read the last bit of your paragraph of your book.

“Aye, but I do need to warn ya, my mum is invitin’ a few of my Aunts and Uncles to dinner and they’re gonna want in interrogate ya,” Oliver explained as he tossed his playbook on the coffee table in front of him. You giggled, looking up from the book over at him and seeing him watch you with his big grin.

“Should I be worried?” You asked coyly.

“Eh. They’re a bit harmless for the most part.  But I can’t make any promises if the photos of me as a baby come out though,” Oliver explained as you giggled, “My Aunts loved takin’ pictures of me all the time since I was the first nephew for them to torture,”

“They sound lovely,” You commented, stretching your arms over your head to get some feeling back in your arms from sitting in the chair for too long, “Then you know my Dad and how he’ll steer you into a corner and chat about Quidditch for hours on end,”

“I don’t mind talking to your Da about quidditch, you know that,” He reasoned as he ruffled his own hair, “Although his favorite team is to be debated still.”

“You are still peeved that he doesn’t prefer Puddlemure United?” You asked as a joke, Oliver glaring at you though it was playful.

“Chudley Cannons are not as competitive as they used to be!” He reasoned, you rolling your eyes.

“Don’t tell Ron Weasley that,” you grumbled, Oliver laughing from the mention of the Weasley that loved and craved the sport, “Still, I’ll have a word with my Dad in how he talks to the love of my life and try not to have another argument like last year,”

Oliver paused as you were looking at the cover of your book, you not realizing what you just said but Oliver hearing every single word of it.  Only the sound of the cracking fire was heard and the soft wind outside the windows that blew the snow sideways, but Oliver was opening and closing his mouth like a fish like you were still too occupied with your book.

“Can you please repeat that?” He asked, you looking up at him with a raised brow as he faced you from his spot on the couch.

“Repeat what?” You asked, seeing a massive smile on his face. It was then that you realized what was said and you blushed madly, looking down at your book again and trying to avoid his face.

“Oh no, go on and repeat it!” He replied, you shaking your head sheepishly.  He then got up from the couch and glided over to you, crowding you in the chair and peppering your face with kisses.  You sweated, trying to squirm away and avoid his lips but he was far too quick thanks to his quidditch reflects.  You loved  this side of Oliver, the side with his walls down and nothing stressing him out.  Not thinking of quidditch, not thinking about class work, just being there with you and enjoying your time together.

“Come on, say it!” He teased as he tickled your sides and kissed all over your face. You laughed os hard you had tears in your eyes as you finally shoved him a bit to have him lean back. You cupped his fae and kissed him, feeling him melt against you as he was kneeling in front of the couch and keep you trapped in the furniture.  But this time it was soft, the laughter under your skin as you grinned against his lips with another kiss.

You finally pulled away after a solid minute of you two kissing and you peered in his bright brown eyes that looked a pinch lighter with joy, “I love you.  Okay?”

“Good thing I feel the same way too, darlin’.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you once more.

A week later, on the train ride home for the holidays, you two would be snuggled in your own compartment and looking forward to having Christmas together.

The End.

November Prompt Session

[rhiannonsknife]

THE EMOJI ANON LIST IS GROWING. i am so very proud, both of the good users of tumblr who love your blog as much as i do and of you 🤞🤞 it's been a while but im back with more thoughts, baby

first of all, thank you for indulging in my rhiannon clothes stealer realness. it is real to me, ok?

i am lowkey fixated on what you said about making her get off while she inhales your scent from your underwear... i believe i saw this in a lottie fic i read on here so credit where credit is due but rhiannon sneaking into your room before you're together to steal your underwear and get off? yes please

you're about to head to bed when you notice a rustling from your closet, something that doesn't sound at all like the normal noises of your house. so you go to investigate and who do you see but rhiannon lewis, one hand holding a pair of your panties up to her nose, the other underneath the waistband of her pants.

you probably should be more scared than you are, but you can't deny that you're absolutely dripping for her, and you decide to have some fun. so you watch intently as you make her touch herself, forcing her to admit all the dirty fantasies she thinks about when she sneaks in and gets off with your panties

this thought is making me go insane 😇 pervy!rhiannon save me pervy!rhiannon -🪐

i’ve actually mentioned this very briefly in my very first rhiannon post!! so back to the roots we go 🤗🤗 (also, once again, shoutout to @lottiesgrl for the screenshot) obviously: nsfw content so mdni!!

rhiannon who’s so insanely obsessed with you that she needs to have you in literally every possible way! maybe you haven’t had sex yet (though she wants to. desperately), or perhaps you aren’t even in a relationship yet. but, either way, rhiannon wants you. she wants you so bad it’s driving her madder than she already is…

touching herself to the thought of you does get her off, it’s her go-to fantasy, but -after a while- it’s simply not enough anymore. picturing you with her hands shoved down her panties still turns her on beyond words, but something is missing. she can conjure up dirty images of you all she wants, but it’s no use if she doesn’t know the taste of your arousal, the sounds you’d make when she puts her mouth on you, the scent…

so, with no other options left, she sneaks in the next time she’s made sure you’ve left your place. rhiannon has watched you enough times to know where you keep your spare key so technically it’s not breaking and entering. just entering. and that’s alright, right? it’s tolerable. besides, it’s not like she’s planning on taking anything! she will only do some…exploring. you won’t know that she’s been there at all, rhiannon tells herself, as she quickly unlocks the door to your apartment building and slips inside before anyone can catch her.

once inside, she takes her sweet time exploring your place, not expecting you to be back anytime soon.

she avoids your bedroom, looking at everything else first, and getting embarrassingly wet with her plan in mind and the scent of your perfumes and shampoos filling her nostrils. she feels like a pervert for getting off to these seemingly harmless little things. maybe she is. it’s not like rhiannon cares anymore, being this close to where she’s been wanting to be for the longest time: your bedroom. ideally, with you in it as well. but she’ll settle for whatever she can get, and if that’s being in there all by herself, going through your underwear drawer…then who is rhiannon to complain?

and, because she’s got time, she doesn’t stop there. not when she’s found a used pair, right atop a pile of shed clothes. when she can smell you on the fabric, still wet to the touch. you must’ve changed before leaving the house, she concludes, as she strides through the room until she reaches the bed. rhiannon is already pressing the fabric to her face, inhaling your scent and sighing into the underwear eagerly as she walks.

she’s spread out on your bed before she can reconsider it. sure, she could leave the place, taking the underwear with her. it’s what she should be doing. but your scent has thrown all rational thoughts right out the window, replaced only by the need to get off as soon as possible (preferably in your space. in your bed.)

maybe, rhiannon thinks as she swings her legs over the edge and leans back against your pillows, you’ve touched yourself in this exact place. against these exact same pillows, with your legs spread out on the mattress, your arousal dripping onto the sheets.

just like that, she can’t hold herself back any longer. instantly, without wasting even more time, she puts her hand beneath her skirt. a purposeful outfit choice, with easy access. wandering your place, it turns out, had been the perfect foreplay. rhiannon is soaked, her underwear clinging to her throbbing center. she exhales a shuddered breath -doesn’t trust herself enough to be loud, afraid one of your neighbors could hear- as she presses two fingers against her clit. her other hand still holds your underwear, which she quickly presses against her nose as she breathes in.

the rest of the world fades out altogether when she pushes her fingers inside herself for the first time that day.

when you enter through the front door, you don’t immediately notice that something is off. sure, you’d been certain that you had turned off the lights before leaving, but that alone doesn’t raise any suspicions yet. it’s when you approach the door to your room that you notice the movement.

your first instinct is to flinch. there’s clearly someone in your apartment. the stranger's presence makes you freeze in your tracks. but then, as you stumble backward as slowly as possible, you hear it. the quiet sounds, the stifled sighs, the familiar voice. with your brows furrowed, you walk back towards it all over again.

what you see, through the small gap, confirms your suspicions: there, rhiannon is, kneeling on your bed. she’s got one hand between her thighs, bouncing her weight on her own fingers, whilst the other is clamped over her mouth, both to stifle her noises and to press the fabric of what is unmistakably your underwear against her nose.

you should be scared, you should confront her and ask what she’s doing here and how she got inside. but you’re, honest to god, dripping at the sight in front of you and too busy watching the way she’s riding her hand like her life depends on it. despite her efforts to be ‘quiet’, the bed is creaking under the constant shift of her body and she’s drawing obscene squelching sounds from between her spread thighs.

so, instead of confronting her, you decide to have some fun with her first. she’s the one who owes you a lot of answers, and you’re confident you’ll receive plenty of them when you finally push the door open and make your presence known.

rhiannon’s eyes widen comically when she sees you standing in the doorway. still, she seems too turned on to think; her hand stills and she stops rocking against her fingers, but she doesn’t look like she’s able to withdraw it from underneath her skirt all the way. instead, she sits on it, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

“i can- i can explain-” she stammers immediately, dropping the panties down from her tight grip.

“can you?” you ask, approaching the bed slowly. rhiannon’s legs tremble and you’re not sure whether it’s arousal or the fact that she’s been caught. either way, you like it,

“i-” she doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. you furrow your brows at her as you sit down by her side. the mattress bounces a little under the added weight, forcing rhiannon’s hand to move. she bites her lip and your eyes dart between her legs -more or less voluntarily. she’s dripping to the wrists. this whole scenario must turn her on a lot more than rhiannon would ever verbally admit.

“who said you could stop?”

rhiannon whimpers.

“come on” you encourage, getting a bit more comfortable. you’d be lying if you said the sight in front of you wasn’t turning you on, too. after holding the eye contact for another moment, as if to make sure you’re being serious, rhiannon picks up where she’s left off: she starts rolling her hips against her two fingers that are knuckle deep inside of her.

“how long have you been here?” you ask conversationally.

“a while” rhiannon sighs, head falling back.

“have you done this before? sneaked in and got off with my underwear?”

“no!” she exclaims, though it comes out more like a whine. “no”

“no…?” you can’t help but pout, mockingly, as you pick up the panties from where she’s dropped them, unfolding them and holding them out to her. “you forgot these”

rhiannon glares at you, bewildered but never without moving her hips simultaneously.

“what?” you ask, holding it out to her again. “it’s not like i’m gonna go ahead and sit on your face to give you a taste after you’ve broken in. so if you want a taste…”

she doesn’t have to be told twice. when rhiannon reaches for them and eagerly holds them to her face again, you’re not so sure about whether or not you can actually deprive yourself of letting her eat you out later. you’ll have to reconsider. for now, watching her is enough. you don’t turn your eyes away once as rhiannon bounces on her fingers, nose pressed into your underwear. she’s no longer bothering to be quiet either, her moans echoing through the room with every erratic roll of her hips.

who would’ve thought your sweet rhiannon was such a pervert…? breaking in just for a sniff of you…? she’s looking breathtakingly beautiful, now that she’s rutting against her hand right before you. you’ll have to do something about that, you decide, once she’s made herself cum like this.

for now, you’ll make the most of this opportunity and enjoy the opportunity to watch rhiannon touching herself for you…

[overnightheartbeats]

"Is that a complaint I hear?" The playful gleam in her eyes in plain view as she looked at him. "And, here I thought you liked it when I don't behave." Her laugh rung out from her chest, no disagreeing there. Babygirl was indeed their proof. “She’s going to have so much family, she won’t even know where to start. Plus, her first cousin too. Imagine if they're also best friends." Like her and Juju. Hopeful, maybe. "Well, considering the badge is collecting dust somewhere on my desk, we'd be out of luck. So, no sexy rebel for you."

His question made her head turn quickly to look at him. Had she not mentioned that earlier? And, just like that, she was caressing the side of his face, her fingertips brushing against the scruff. "One hundred percent, two hundred percent even. Way too sexy, honestly it's a shock that you leave the house looking like this." Because, truly, Laurel surprised herself for letting him go each day. "With those bright eyes," her fingertips brushing his brow ridge. "Hm, and this scruff you have going. Your soft smile too. That's been sexy from day one." Laurel knew how much he liked details, and eagerly, she provided. She only nodded in response, feeling more confident in this situation's eventual resolution. It was a given that Isaac had a lot on his plate with his ex looming and Nettie's safety being compromised. That's also why she knew that pushing him now about something that happened some time ago probably wouldn't garner the best reaction. But, Eli and Isaac had been through a lot together, that much she knew. Laurel listened to the full name, how easily it flowed from his lips. Rosaline Phillips Thorn. It sounded beautiful, it fit perfectly. "It does...yes, I agree. I love it." If she wasn't so comfortable here, she could've jumped in the air with excitement. "And, she keeps her Rosebud nickname? Double bonus. Only took us this many months," she teased, knowing they had exhausted every other name book. Laurel laughed completely amused as the sight was drawn in her mind. Eli arm wrestling Juju for it, because no way she was giving up that name. "Right? It would go with our names too. Hm, you arm wrestle Juju, and I'll take Aaron," words said in between laughs, how silly it sounded.

"True, it's okay. I'm not in a rush to tell them. I like that it's just between us." Much like their promise to be life partners, before marriage even came to mind. "I'm sure the time will come up. You're giving me the convincing job? Oh, tough one." Though, perhaps less impossible. Emma had asked a few questions about how they like living here, though she hadn't mentioned to him yet. "Rosebud might be the extra push they need to move, especially now that Isaac is also settling into Texas more permanently. I think you guys would love to have them closer to home. Yes, let's bring it up casually and see what they think."

Her eyes might've been sparkling thinking of the soft tiramisu from that restaurant. But, she was definitely getting sidetracked, so Laurel shook her head and brought her attention back to him. Though, another opportunity for distraction presented itself. Words failed her as he licked the cinnamon sugar from his lips, that wasn't fair. "Huh? Oh, yes the phone number." She took his phone, and her smile instantly widened. His background, their picture from the pier. Seemed like forever ago. Quickly unlocking his phone, she smiled triumphantly. "Yup, you have the number right here. Okay, I'll give them a call. Do you think eight o'clock is okay?"

Laurel glanced down to the small piece of churro, "yeah I think I'm done." His yawn did not go unnoticed, leaning against his head slightly. "It's been a long day babe, makes sense. I'm glad too, because you need to rest. Maybe an early night for us, after dinner? I'm sure Emma has tons of plans already for tomorrow, so we'll need the extra sleep."

With that, she pressed the dial button and brought his phone to her ear to make the dinner reservation for five. Requesting a table outdoors, enjoying the Texas warmth while they still had it. "Okay, we're all confirmed. Should we go see what your siblings are up to?"

"When?" Eli asked on the verge of a laughing fit. "Have you ever behaved? Pretty sure baby girl there is proof neither of us can behave." True in their nature there were more moments where they misbehaved than actually behaved and that made him laugh. "One thing is for sure she won't be alone." Whether that was because of found cousins or not their daughter was not going to know what it was like not to feel loved. "The badge? Oh you're a sexy rebel. Let's keep your record untouched. Don't want our kid to judge you."

And I love you would never get old. He would always love hearing it come from her. The way she loved him even down to the fragments made him feel lucky that she had stuck around for the ups and downs. "Has it made me sexier though," he asked, a playful smile gracing his lips. "Thanks for the vote of confidence baby." He'd forgive Issac he knew it. Laurel knew it and deep down even Issac knew it. Their bond was just too strong to be broken by a deep misunderstanding. The guy saw past the nerdy comic book era and still welcomed him into his space. That would never not count for something. Rosaline made his head turn to her and a soft smile flashed across his features. "Rosaline Phillips Thorn." He liked the name and how well it flowed. A wide grin overtook him as he laughed. "I think that's it. That's her name. Nickname we can keep as Rosebud. But oh my god we did it. She's not nameless anymore." He made a zipped lip gesture and nodded as he waited for her to drop the name and once he heard it he smiled. "Aurora. Well hot damn I like that one too. Do you think we can arm wrestle her for it?" Eli teased knowing full well he was wise not to fuck with juju.

"Things keep getting in the way , but it also wouldn't be us if our good news didn't keep being sidelined one way or another. We'll tell them before they leave. Maybe you can convince them to stay and move." Wishful thinking on his part but also not impossible. With a niece on the way, Inez and Emma would have an excuse to not be so far away. "I do think so. Isa would have his entire family in one place and he wouldn't have to travel back and forth. I'd love them to be closer. Maybe we can float the idea at dinner with them?"

He tried to hide his smile as she got sidetracked with the tiramisu, a regular occurrence the last few months. His sleeve covered his knowing smile as he took a bite of his churro and licked the cinnamon off his lips. "I may have the number on my phone," he made his voice level as he passed her his phone for her to look at. The screen lighting up and showing off a silly picture of themselves at the pier. He had promised he'd change it but he still hadn't gotten around to it. The pass code he knew she knew as it combined all their favorite numbers.

"Are you done with this piece?" he asked as he chewed his own and covered a yawn. "Who would have thought this outing would make me sleepy. Glad I have the day off tomorrow. I don't think I have the energy to be work me walking around at the station."

[lunathemacron]

day 11 - group photo

i dont have a caption i just love this one <3

[canisonicscrewyou]

“Oh yeah sure you can crash on our couch!! Matt Smith just has to keep you company.”

“What”

“Oh you know.”

“I mean- uh- I guess that’s okay… But can you turn the lampshade around?”

“Oh yeah sure! :) Are you ready for bed?”

“Can- can you turn it… Again….?”

“?? Haha yeah okay :3”

“I… Uh.. Y-Yeah that’s fine I guess…”

“Okay awesome!! If you need anything else let me know!! The light does have to stay on though!! Goodnight!!! <33”

[nightgarla]

i need to sleeb but i cantstop thinking about them

[liebelesbe]

when i was in 11th or 12th grade everyone had to make a big painting for art class, like copy a. Ausschnitt. detail? sector? of a painting that's kind of well known. like we were assigned a painting and had to zoom in and copy the zoomed in part on a big ass canvas. And the theme of our art class was self portraits and I can still remember what mine looked like but I CAN'T FIND IT. Neither the one I did (usually you get to take it home when you're done with school but #lockdown so I asked for it two years later and it was already gone) nor the one mine was based on 😭

if any of you ever see a self portrait of like. a woman's face that's painted in very light colors and mostly yellows and oranges and beiges and it kind of has a whispy/foggy vibe pls let me know... bc I've been trying to google it and getting absolutely 0 fitting results. rip.

[inferno-silentdragon]

Open the Door

Happy 2nd Anniversary OMORI! 

Originally posted December 25, 2022

[mindsmade]

── people i'd like to get to know better!

alias / name: luca

birthday:  april 19th

zodiac sign: aries???

height: 169 cm

hobbies: gaming's hands down on the #1 spot, but given my utter lacking of a gaming pc for the foreseeable future, ik i'm gonna fall back hard on rping, reading and dnd ���

favorite color: nothing in particular tbh – i am generally drawn to muted colours and nothing too flashy

favorite book: always the lotr trilogy. those books just have such a special place in my heart

last song: coração - diogo piçarra

last film / show: netflix's adaptation of atla if we're talking most recent new shows / films; otherwise schitt's creek ( it's one of my comfort shows jsidfjs )

recent reads: literally nothing bc i have not had the damned time and energy 😩

inspiration: most often plot holes or smth of the sort in existing media, and things that pop up in dreams or daydreams

story behind url: the 'minds' in it refers to the characters and their personalities, minds, etc. on this account; 'made' to the fact that these characters were made by actual humans – simply put

fun fact about me: i once spent 2 - 3 months for free in a student house in toronto while staying with my then gf. everyone entering the building had to just sorta flash their student card at the guy standing by the door as they passed. so she gave me an old student card of hers and only on the exact last day did we get caught cheating the system – and we managed to bullshit our way out of it by saying i'd only been there for a week and we didn't know about the guest pass rules and limits ( smth like 'guests need a guest pass and can only stay for 3 days at most' or smth ). LMAOOO

tagged by: @enypneon ( thank you sm!! 🫶🏼 ) tagging: @afraidofchange ( i HAD to tag you the 'fun fact' thing literally spans the time in which we met up ) / @sherez / @vulpesse / @venustrape / i feel like i'm late to this party so i'm tagging literally anyone who hasn't done it yet but wants to!!!

[which-hospital]

this is kind of silly, I was being the way that I am about Casualty and looking for mentions in 80s newspapers

found this in the Express and Star:

which was just fun because the Express and Star is (AFAIK) a pretty big but also pretty localised newspaper in the West Midlands, like I only ever see it in the Black Country and Staffordshire these days so I had the fun idea of narrowing my search to mentions in this paper just to see what my local paper was saying about it

and THAT’S how I finally found what you might describe as primary sources for S1 Casualty being controversial, rather than a recollection from the 00s or later

this one is only actually about Casualty for the first paragraph but it shows that 1.) nurses didn’t necessarily like it and 2.) it was being called a soap from start - it also appeared next to an advert from my local council

THIS ^^ is finally a record of the Tories taking issue with it, and it’s honestly more of a big thing than I thought it would turn out to be

this one is intriguing cause the guy who wrote it is clearly The Worst, he kinda compares Casualty to Mein Kampf? anyway, you fucking bet Casualty was doling out blatant anti-establishment and anti-government messages, you bitch

this one mentions the Tories criticising Casualty and points out that by getting all obsessed about the BBC having a bias, the government risk doing the thing they are supposedly criticising, which feels obvious

[timegears-moved]

god im so tempted to go back to botw rn

[warthogreporter]

And now, a brief look at the human fucker community on a monster version of tumblr

🐙 WetterThanYou Follow

It's so sad that humans can't breathe underwater, makes bringing them to my lair so much harder

👺Ascetic-more-like-ass-cetic Follow

Was anyone going to tell me humans can't breathe underwater or was I supposed to just learn that from a text post?

🐙WetterThanYou Follow

Please tell me you didn't seriously look at humans and go 'they look like they can breathe underwater'

👺Ascetic-more-like-ass-cetic Follow

I thought they were like lions and how some live in the sea :(

🦁BEaST-MAN Follow

DID YOU THINK SEA LIONS WERE LITERAL LIONS?!

👺Ascetic-more-like-ass-cetic Follow

They're not? 😭😭😭

(10,053 Notes)

🐺HereWolf Follow

Vampires will be like 'I love humans' and then transform every human they know into another vampire. Weak. You are like someone who only watches Marvel movies and calls themselves a filmbuff.

🏏Batass Follow

Hey OP this is an important part of many vampire cultures so you should tone it down because this is really offensive.

🐺HereWolf Follow

You should get a culture that isn't fucking lame.

🦁BEaST-MAN Follow

OP you are literally a werewolf. And into throwing stones in glass houses I guess.

🐺HereWolf Follow

Gurl you don't know the amount of effort I put into keeping my human girlfriend a human girlfriend because I love her for being a human.

(8,000 Notes)

💚CraftedLove Follow

In the club on a date with a human straight up breaking it. And by 'it,' haha, well. Let's just say. His sanity.

(42,069 Notes)

🧙‍♂️ Crystal-Rooster-and-Orbs Follow

Sick of getting added to group chats like 'plots to overthrow our lieges.' Yes, I am both an evil wizard and an evil vizier. But I'm not plotting any treachery because my king is also evil, and so is my queen. We are in an evil polycule and give each other evil night kisses.

🧙‍♂️ Crystal-Rooster-and-Orbs Follow

Also stop telling me about the evil queen's OnlyFans like the king and I aren't helping her run it. Who do you think is taking the pictures? You have no idea how many evil yet deeply impractical schemes it's given us the economic cushion to do.

(48,835 Notes)

🤼‍♂️Bitch-of-Heracles Follow

Need me a human who will hold me like this and just destroy me 😍

♣️HeraclesOfficial✅ Follow

Hey.

🤼‍♂️Bitch-of-Heracles Follow

WHY DID NOBODY THINK TO WARN ME HERACLES WAS ON THIS WEBSITE?!

(33,333 Notes)

This now has a sequel, and a third act

[mxalmighty]

The Great Almighty Apartment Deep Clean of 2024

is officially underway. My bathroom is the cleanest gd place in this whole building now. It's like stepping into an entirely new universe.

I did that. Me. All by myself. /proud bean

[esleep]

i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).

shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.

i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.

when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.

anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.