#i'm LOSING my fucking MIND i can't BELIEVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cyclogenesis]

oh my god. oh my fucking god. everyone on this show is a lesbian. oh my goD

[clownprince]

HELLO??? ARE YOU FFUCKING KIDDING ME...

[corfisers]

i really need to finish this one day

[lizardthelizard]

listen. LISTEN. I knoooowwwwwwwww that August has never been important enough for canon to ever bother expanding upon issues like this. I know, but...

In the pilot, we KNOW that Emma is lonely. We know this because she’s sat in her apartment, alone, celebrating her birthday by herself. It’s well established that Emma had no one she considered her family and has had extreme trouble connecting with people over the years (Neal, Lily and Ingrid as fleeting exceptions).

But August? Canon gives us NOTHING. We know almost NOTHING about his past in the Land Without Magic. We’re given the name of one (1) character (Isra) that he has a connection with (someone who is clearly not THAT important to him, as she’s never mentioned again ever) and that’s IT.

Emma stays in Storybrooke to begin with because of Henry, yes. But it’s not a particularly tough decision for her because, well...she has nothing to go back to anyway. And I can’t help but wonder how true that was for August as well? Like....??? did he bother to contact ANYONE when he thought he was dying???

August is a genuinely intelligent and charismatic character (albeit, a little obnoxious). I have no doubt that he has made friends + friendly acquaintances over the years. But close friends? People he can open up to about his past with and who won’t think he’s losing his mind? HIGHLY doubtful.

I know that the show didn’t really explore their friendship very much or expand on it in any meaningful way, but Emma and August’s relationship is sooooooooooo *chef’s kiss* to me. Yeah, they have genuine chemistry and a fun dynamic, yeah the ‘I can always tell when someone is lying to me’ character interacting with a character that is literally Pinocchio is funny af and surprisingly poetic. But also!!! These are two lonely, emotionally closed off characters that were essentially orphaned by their parents for 28 years that have both had shitty childhoods and have connected so genuinely with one another and I don’t know where I was even going with this but I love both of them so much and they both deserve this friendship and WHY WASN’T AUGUST AT EMMA’S WEDDING I’M STILL MAD ABOUT THIS OKAY

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

Men stop commenting on my food challenge.

[aurosoul]

I had a dream that I got my Magic Leap headset and then took it to a forest to create magical crystals and rainbows in the streams there and then I took it to the beach to decorate the sand with glowing shells and stars!!!!!!! and then woke up to realize I’ll soon be able to do these things FOR REAL!!!!!!!

[aw-bean-s]

sometimes I just wish my friends liked me the way other people's seem to

[stormieislurking]

Oh come on

[theemperorsfeather]

Love searching the tags for info on something I assume I won't find, but kind of hope for, and it going like: irrelevant, wrong flavor, crap, crap, crap, boring, too long, crap, irrelevant, crap, crap, why am I bothering it's all going to be cra- double-take. Reread. Excuse me WHAT. Let me look one of those things up, GET THE FUCK OUT

[dip-lou-in-honey]

.

[payidaresque]

the way i SCREAMED

[strikersin]

Dreams. Dreams. DREAMS!

The one where I'm watching a movie at Luther's house and she is dressed in almost Russian attire - Fancy, cold, and so beautiful. And we're in bed and I'm explaining my excitement over the Pathologic movie and later we have to deal with zombies but whatever.

And I'm playing with children's toys there. Everyone is so young.

Real life when we were read The Last Unicorn or something, something, at the cafeteria table. The book where the protagonist is taught how to keep her thoughts locked up tight like a box.

Ugh.

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

omg YEAH Buck (from the🚨🚨🚨 weewoo firefighter show) is bi!!!!!! We as a fandom kinda called it happening but in a like….. joking way??? Like no way they’d actually do that but !!!!!!!! HERE WE ARE lmao

I remember seeing all the gifs from the end of s4 on my dash and being like huh… gay firefighters fr?? And then getting into the show and realising oh… nvm lmao but god. GOD they actually did it!!! (halfway lol but like 👀 it could actually for real happen now 👀 )

Destiel wishes it had what you guys do 💀

[x-for-a-y]

god kebian should've won lr4m2. imagine if toby lost twice in a row. imagine if kebian's only loss was to alphagenos. imagine if- okay well losers' finals was going to be both contestants that lost to ag no matter what. i don't think they could've beat dubduo but just imagine

[juli-mari]

OH MY GOD

ix. deer dolly

see all chapters here apologies for the delay! this SHORT chapter is all about the long-awaited reunion, filled with steamy scenes. no plot points, just pure passion. if this portrayal isn't your cup of tea, feel free to skip to the next chapter: to be posted in a few days. tags: fem! reader, alastor being demisexual/demiromantic, allusions to marital activities, steamy bordering smut, mention of blood and injury, religious symbolism, love as a fucked up obsession

As you shut your eyes, the world around you dissolves into swirling shadows. The darkness envelops you, cocooning you in a sense of weightlessness. Pressed against Alastor, you bury your face into his suit, your cheek brushing against the smooth silk of his tie. The decrepit, torn building fades away, replaced by the crisp, clean ambiance of a hotel room. The air feels fresher, devoid of the musty odors that had clung to your senses before. Light streams in through the windows, casting delicate patterns on the walls that dance and sway with ethereal grace.

"Cher."

Rough lips press tenderly against the side of your temple and a heave escapes your chest, tears tracing silent paths down your cheeks, their presence unnoticed until they meet the fabric beneath your eyes, staining Alastors suit. The noise of your own blood rushing in your ears drowns out all other sounds, leaving you isolated in a world of agony.

Suddenly, the pain in your ankle resurges with a vicious intensity, sending waves of agony coursing through your body. A whimper escapes your lips, barely audible amidst the overwhelming sensation. It feels as though your very being is folding in on itself, ribs straining against flesh, breath catching in your throat. With the adrenaline long gone, every ache and throb becomes magnified, threatening to consume you whole.

"Al, it hurts," you manage to utter, your voice strained with anguish.

Alastor remains silent, his dilated, frenzied eyes locked onto your shaking form. His hand reaches up, lingering where your throat meets your jaw, the sharp points of his claws pressing down with a calculated pressure. You feel a sharp nip, and a bead of blood begins to seep from the small wound, a crimson offering that seems to stir something primal within him.

His mouth waters, and he swallows audibly, his gaze fixated on the trickle of blood.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs softly, the words a stark contrast to the hunger in his eyes. His thumb moves to gently swipe away the tears that streak down your cheeks, his touch oddly tender despite the predatory gleam in his gaze.

Leaning down, Alastor presses a tender kiss against the small wound, his lips a soothing balm against the raw edges of your suffering. A rush of conflicting emotions floods through you—pain, longing, and a desperate craving for his touch. With a soft sniffle, you raise a trembling hand to press against the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair.

Alastor responds to your desperate craving, his hands flying to your hips as he lifts you effortlessly and lays you down onto a nearby chair. One of his shadows encircles your ankle, causing you to tense instinctively. However, instead of pain, you feel a cool sensation spreading through your skin, soothing the ache and tension. With a sigh of relief, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to relax into the chair.

All the while, Alastor's gaze pierces through you, his eyes dark with desire and desperation.

You're right in front of him, vulnerable and exposed, a temptation too potent to resist. The taste of your blood still lingers on his tongue and he longs to sink his teeth into your soft flesh, to taste the sweetness of your essence as he consumes you with a fervor bordering on madness, leaving marks that brand you as his and his alone. Every fiber of his being yearns to ravage and possess you, to consume you in a frenzy of passion.

But he understands that to yield to his desires would mean risking further harm to you, and he cannot bear the thought of causing you any more pain.

And so, with a tortured soul and a heavy heart, he fights against the primal instincts that surge within him, denying himself the one thing he craves above all else.

As the minutes pass and the pain begins to dissipate, you find yourself panting softly, your chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Exhaustion and relief wash over you in waves, mingling with the lingering ache that still echoes through your body.

Gazing up at Alastor, you smile, your hands instinctively moving to rest on his lower abdomen, seeking the reassuring warmth of his touch in the dimly lit room.

A silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

Alastor's hands remain clenched at his sides, the strain evident in the way his claws dig into his palms, threatening to break through the surface of his flesh. The protection of his gloves is the only barrier preventing the sharp tips from drawing blood.

His intense gaze, like twin flames burning in the shadows, enveloped you in their fiery embrace. Crimson eyes, almost glowing with intensity, held you captive, trapping you in a cage of his unspoken desires.

With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent that he was relinquishing control, leaving you with the reins in your hands and him at your mercy.

Straightening yourself, you let your nails graze over his abdomen before landing on his beating chest. The rhythmic pulse beneath your touch erratic. Finally, after what feels like an eternity to Alastor, you break the stifling stillness with a voice barely above a whisper. "On your knees."

Alastor's gaze darkens, a predatory glint flashing in his eyes as he pauses for a moment, as if considering your request. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, your husband obeys, sinking to his knees before you.

Wasting no time, you seize him by the collar, pulling him close as your lips collide in a fevered kiss. The red lipstick you wear leaves its mark on his mouth, staining and smearing across his lips, cheek, and jaw. A low growl escapes him as he tugs off the jacket to his suit before his claws are grazing down your legs, leaving a trail of destruction as the fabric of your stockings tears with an audible rip.

With a breathless whimper, his name rolls off your lips, and Alastor freezes in place. It's as if something inside him shatters, a floodgate bursting open to release the pent-up longing and passion that he's kept restrained for so long.

Suddenly, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as he responds to the urgency of your kiss with equal fervor. With a low, primal grunt, your husband pushes against you. Every brush of his lips against yours, every press of his body against yours, speaking of a hunger that can no longer be contained. It's a hunger born of years of yearning and longing, a hunger that demands to be sated here and now.

Both of you lean back, lost in the intoxicating frenzy of desire. The chair beneath you groans and creaks ominously under the strain before finally giving way with a loud snap.

You yelp in surprise as the ground rushes up to meet you, but before you can hit the hard floor, Alastor's arms wrap around you protectively, catching you in a tight embrace. With a swift motion, he pulls you up into his embrace, effortlessly supporting your weight as he holds you close.

With deliberate steps, Alastor guides you to the edge of the bed before gently lowering you onto its soft surface. You land with a huff and a thud, the mattress embracing you like a comforting embrace.

As you settle onto the plush bedding, Alastor follows suit, hovering above you with his arms caging your head. Leaning down, he presses a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts, each touch igniting a fire within you.

The straps of your white silk dress are tugged down, revealing the curve of your chest as you melt into the softness of the mattress. Your body instinctively arches towards his touch, every nerve alive with anticipation. As his hands explore the contours of your body, your mind succumbs to a blissful haze, thoughts dissolving into a fog of desire and need.

"Al..."

Alastor continued his ministrations, each kiss a fervent prayer offered up to the goddess beneath him. A reunion long overdue, it felt akin to a sacred ritual. With each tender touch of his lips, he sought to worship you in the most unholy of ways, offering himself up as a devoted supplicant at the altar of your desires.

[praetorqueenreyna]

ZOEY/WILL HAPPENING????? IN CANON????? BEFORE MY VERY EYES??????