#and you gotta deal

[some--dingus]

Everyone is out here scandalized about their pokemon doing the nasty at the family picnic but I haven't seen ONE person mention Tandemaus doing the DEVIL'S TANGO in their pokeballs MID BATTLE

[prolibytherium]

David Attenborough narration: But this very special Fish has not come here to feed...

Me: No way dude I was so sure he was hungry but my expectations are subverted Listening and learning.

David Attenborough narration: ...He has come here... To Breed.

Me: WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cloud-ya]

sobbing.....her little brother is her guardian angel

[shotmrmiller]

re: rugby team ghoap

it'd been a one-off, seize-the-moment kind of thing. casual hookups aren't really for you, plus you distinctly remember your ex prating on about how the team would only be here for the weekend hence the absolute burning need to go, and you've got work monday.

goodbye, great knowing them. you'd traipsed out of the hotel room with your sneakers in hand, soap's used jersey in the other- a memento of sorts, a trophy. mild serial killer behavior but you reckon since you just became another pearl in their long string of conquests, the least you could do is take something with you that won't be gone with a warm epsom salt bath and a couple of days rest.

("would ye believe yer the prettiest we've ever brought back with us?" right. you know where you stand on that scale, and people like you don't typically pull men like them. another cringe-worthy comment like that and you'd mistake their interest with pity.)

you'd put both jerseys in the wash later that day, and the rattling of your washing machine marked the end of your exciting weekend.

or so you'd thought. from your side of things, you'd wiped your hands clean of their sweat, spit and come and went home, once again falling back into semi-familiarity, expecting to go to work feeling completely relaxed and loose, in more ways than one, while ignoring the photos taken of you and the "star players" at the stadium on social media.

(no one caught your face, what bloody luck.)

when you see them again, it's by pure chance. you'd been ordering a sandwich at a deli down the street, hand already reaching for your wallet when an arm curls around your shoulders, dark, coarse hair of a forearm brushing against your cheek.

cedarwood and citrus. it clings to your senses— a sharp, tangy reminder of that time you'd only look back on when the familiar pang of want pooled searing hot between your legs. small world, you suppose.

"didnae leave a note. stole my jersey. 'm surprised ye didnae leave us money on the table, bonnie." warmth flared beneath your cheeks but you didn't cow to his crude joke.

"i suppose i could've left a tip. what do you want?"

the playful lines around his eyes smoothed as his lips straightened into a firm line, his eyes frostbitten. you ignore the way his touch makes you feel trapped, tethered, a cage made of velvet.

"took my shirt and then didn't show up to a single game after tha'. jus' gettin' wha' i'm owed. unless he's yer favorite."

how can he be your favorite when you know nothing about the sport they play and have no interest in knowing?

"too bad. we come as a package. get yer food, we've a place nearby."

(simon had been nowhere near as good-natured as johnny had about you leaving without a word. made you spit out apologies with swollen lips, only accepted the ones that came with a fluttering of your raw pussy around the splitting thickness of him while soap condescendingly cooed in your ear about lessons having to be learned the hard way.)

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[fictionadventurer]

I love libraries.

I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.

Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.

This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.

Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.

Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.

Excuse me while I go weep.

[civetside]

if they if they like played dnd or something am i right

ive never played dnd

[ahhrenata]

listen up, asshole. I’ll make you a deal—

[princeguri66]

"our sergeant keeps kissing us when he's drunk, how do we tell him we'd like for him to kiss us while he's sober as well." -TF 141

TF 141 x very affectionate while drunk male reader

All fluff!

Building off of my old drunk clingy reader thing..

You have too much affection for the task force in your heart for your own good. When you're sober you at least hold it off, suppress it, unsure on how your friends would think about it. At most it's an arm around the waist or shoulder. Trying to not be too affectionate in fear of making them uncomfortable. Unbeknownst to you, they absolutely live for it.

When you're drunk all that self restraint goes away, other than clinging to their side you also very much enjoy giving them little pecks all over their face.

You have Soap leaning on your front, his back connected to your chest as you turn his head around to kiss his face, smooshing his cheeks as you do so. Kissing all the way from his brow to his jaw, rubbing your cheek against his and then resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzle your head into his neck as you leave him a blushing mess.

And when you're sticking next to Gaz, your hands wrapping around him, trapping him in your embrace as you leave kisses on his cheekbones and kiss the tip of his ear. Your lips touching every surface that you can get your hands (well lips) on. Leaving kisses on his shoulders as well.

Ghost sitting facing you as you intertwine your hands with his, and slowly lift said hands to your lips, kissing each knuckle and moving up to his covered face, placing kisses where he can still feel it through the fabric of his balaclava, like his cheeks and his chin. Maybe even his ear. You can't see it but he's beat red from his face down to his neck.

Sitting on the couch together with Price, your thighs touching and you have an arm on his shoulders, you can't help but keep staring at the man and as he turns to look at you you place a small kiss in the middle of his eyebrows, moving to kiss the corner of his eyes and moving your other arm to grab his face and smoosh his cheek in to your lips and give him an audible kiss and moving your lips to kiss the corner of his mouth. Only the best for your captain.

The next day always follows you furiously apologizing to the team, hoping you didn't make them uncomfortable but they always brush it off, always assuring you that it was fine and they don't mind it. They don't mind it at all, in fact, they're patiently waiting for the day you'll kiss them without having the help of alcohol.

[tea-n-ink]

Homesickness is where the heart is

[egophiliac]

oh no, I love them

(super quick doodles done between other stuff, there will be better things later I promise :')

[slymanner]

God dude these two scenes and how roxie moves hurt my heart so so bad 🥹

it's like a mix of anger, feral, emotional breakdown, and complete sadness that just fucks me up soooo fucking bad.

it's like she's a pet who got abandoned by their owner but they see them again after years of sadness and depression of them being gone and leaving them like that and all that anger and sadness just manifest's into one bundle of emotion's towards them they cannot control.

roxie baby ur gonna be okay u deserve better :[

[deeva-arud]

So, about that one AU that's been marinating in my mind for years

[dreamerdrop]

Julian does kind of strike me as someone who just sort of. Endures suffering and then pushes it way, way down and pretends it doesn’t hurt.

Bad things happen and he just sits quietly and then pushes it down and pretends he’s okay so he can get on with whatever he needs to get on with.

Doesn’t know how to process trauma or misery inside himself, but he can help other people with theirs, so he just. Keeps going. Keeps working. Keeps trying.

It makes sense, I mean, the pivotal traumatic incident in his life was one he has never been allowed to even allude to out of fear. His parents don’t seem very emotionally available for him either, so he’s definitely never talked out those issues with them. So he’s probably just grown up pushing any off feelings back down and focusing on something else.

And even when his big ol secret is finally out, he still doesn’t really talk about it or acknlowedge it unless someone basically drags him kicking and screaming into having to focus on it. He never really talks about or addresses like. Anything.

Like his attempts at curing the blight and how fucked up he was over that. Or the time he thought he could save the Jem’Hadar from their ketracel white addiction. (And boy howdy does that episode take on new layers of pain when you think about him being so sympathetic to entities that were genetically engineered to suffer and his own backstory.) Surviving a psychic attack that basically involved his own subconscious mind trying to talk him into embracing death. A month in a prison camp where he probably definitely thought he was going to just die there, and then realizing no one knew he was gone, and his friends are not anywhere near disturbed enough by any of what just happened.

(To be clear, I think it’s fine that they didn’t realise it was a changeling. I think the reaction they have when they find out retroactively, however, is like. Guys. A minute ago you thought Julian Bashir, your close friend of several years, beloved station doctor, had betrayed the federation and had to be killed. Guys. Forget Julian for a second. How was this not traumatic for the rest of you?)

Then there’s all of that Sloan fuckery which is basically just three episodes of one man trying to gaslight Julian into a dissociative break for reasons.

And he just. Bounces back. Next episode, time to move on, insists he’s totally fine. Except he’s not. He gets gradually more and more tired and miserable and closed off but he just. Never fucking talks about it to anyone. Never deals with how messed up he’s slowly becoming. Never recovers. Never heals. Never gets closure for any of it.

He has so many wonderful moments where he comforts someone else when they break, when they’re scared, when they let all the bad stuff finally make them collapse.

But Julian just never really collapses like that, and it’s like he actively ensures he will never have the chance to collapse because he doesn't want to (and probably doesn’t know how to) deal with any of his issues.

Can you imagine what it would look like when he finally breaks.

[theseventhstar]

This stupid ass Idea just wouldn't leave my mind

[popfizzles]

[types of kisses] ♡ 15) kissing to shut them up

Cuphead was talking about Ludwig restoring a radio, he thinks. Boba wasn't really paying too much attention, admittedly.