#it just came to me

[lineffability]

wait wait wait maybe crowley was so opposed to aziraphale taking the bentley not just bc....well it's his bentley his car the machine he loves and Aziraphale is a bumbling disaster who obeys traffic rules yes sure....but also, hear me out, because that means he can't give Aziraphale a lift. he loves giving aziraphale lifts (anywhere he wants to go)!! if aziraphale just starts taking his bentley out by himself then crowley is not needed?? but mr. acts of service crowley wants to drive aziraphale, loves driving beside him....together... aziraphale wanting to go by himself might be disconcerting in a whole other way....oh my

[theweewooshow]

Buck is in Tommy’s lap when he remembers.

The thing is, he hadn't been planning on coming over tonight. So when he got dressed this morning, on his day off, what he threw on was just his normal lounging clothes.

And then Tommy and Eddie’s BBPU game got canceled because four of the other guys they play with all tested positive for Covid because they work in close quarters together and they obviously couldn't find four extra bodies on such short notice.

So when Tommy texted him about it, Buck was in the middle of bouncing between folding his laundry and getting distracted by the audiobook he was reading.

The text was simple, asking if he already had plans tonight and if not, if he’d be interested in coming over for dinner.

Distracted as he was, he said he’d come over, and then packed a bag and left without much thought to it.

It isn't until after dinner—when they’re lounging on Tommy’s couch, when Buck presses up against him and pulls his attention away from the TV and crawls into his lap—that he realizes the problem.

It isn't until Tommy’s hands drop to his ass and squeeze that he remembers what he’s wearing.

It’s not even something he really thinks about anymore.

Taylor had once wanted to see him wearing a pair of panties so he bought a pair big enough for him and he liked the way he felt in them. He liked the soft fabric and the lace digging into his skin. He liked that she liked how he looked in them.

So he bought more. And he continued wearing them even after she had gone.

He never really got to the point where he had to talk about it with Natalia because they burned bright, fast, and fizzled out just as quick.

But now, he’s wearing a pair of lacy underwear, something he just threw on this morning out of habit, and Tommy’s hands are on his ass now that he’s in his lap, and suddenly he’s remembering that they haven't had this conversation yet.

[dnp-pet-rectangle]

with the knowledge of the green dye bonanza phil went on, i think we have to acknowledge the Truth:

phil told himself "don't cry, craft"

[wolfram-but-art]

small doodle for today

[pulgarcito-perro]

requests hmm..?? Curly taking care of a hurt Jimmy? Maybe he got the shit beaten out of him (justified)~

Hello Kiichu! Thank you for the request, it was very fun to draw.

[ex-vengeancedemon]

I think that Sunnydale can largely thank Anya for not having a lot more incidents of chaotic inexperienced magic users (e.g. the Trio) causing mayhem. Why? Well, when Giles sold Glory 2 items that could be used for a dangerous spell, she called him out, basically asking why he would sell anyone such a dangerous combo. This indicates that Anya is at least generally aware of what shouldn't be sold to customers or what to watch out for, and implies she wouldn't have sold Glory the items. Furthermore, when the gang is under the Tabula Rasa spell, we saw that an amnesiac version of Anya was able to perform potentially dangerous spells using only a single spell book, including conjuring rabbits and a sentient skeleton (that Giles sword fights with). This indicates it would be entirely possible for people with no idea what they're doing to perform irresponsible magic fairly easily.

Basically, Anya prevented a large amount of even more crazy whacky things from happening in Sunnydale

[disneyprincemuke]

kiss all your tears away

alternatively: we haven’t talked in almost 4 days (next)

in which she and logan don't walk into the paddocks together for the first time all season and sends everyone speculating about the status of their relationship friendship

(series masterlist)

she hikes her bag up her shoulder, pushing the sunglasses up her nose. she taps her card against the reader before she can step into the paddocks.

when she'd woken up this morning, she laid in bed with two packs of ice over her eyes to try and reduce the swelling of her eye area. when she’s gotten up to look at herself in the mirror, it did depuff but didn’t entirely erase the evidence of all the crying she did.

she dropped george a text message early this morning, asking if it was okay to be wearing sunglasses everywhere on the paddocks without looking like a complete fool — it’s just a rehearsal, after all.

george simply assumed she’s hungover or something of the sort, so he didn’t ask questions. he just told her he does it all the time.

so, here she is walking into the paddocks by herself. with her stupid bag on her stupid shoulder and a pair of sunglasses over her eyes to hide away from everyone.

oscar, who comes in right after her, almost walks right past her before he realised who she is. he just almost barely recognises her entering the paddocks with a bag on her shoulder and logan next to her.

oscar taps her on the shoulder gently, flashing her a bright smile. “alone today?”

“yeah,” she answers simply, a smile of gratitude stretching her lips when oscar slows his pace down to walk with her.

“oh,” oscar nods to himself. while he’s been slightly out of touch with her out of respect of their relationship, he still did grow up with her. he still knows her telltales when she’s got a problem. “fought?”

“yeah.”

“that bad?”

“pretty bad.”

“i won’t ask about it. but are you okay?”

“i guess.”

“i’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“hopefully.”

“let me carry your stuff,” oscar mutters, circling around her to her other side. he doesn’t wait for an answer — he just slides her backpack off her shoulder and throws it over his shoulder on top of his bag.

she opens her mouth to protest, but oscar is quick to shut her down. “i used to do it before logan. don’t act like it’s so new to you,” oscar laughs, shaking his head. “and it’s weird seeing you with a bag in the paddocks.”

“that’s true. i haven’t walked into the paddocks with my bag on my shoulder since i joined you guys in f2,” she grins shyly.

“let’s put your stuff down then come and hang at mclaren? lily’s just got a taxi to arrive from the airport.”

“oh, she’s here this weekend? she didn’t tell me that…”

“she was going to surprise you after the rehearsal,” oscar giggles. “so, what do you say?”

“okay, but only if lando makes me a cup of coffee.”

george tilts his head at the empty seat alex has left in the corner. “move to the corner, we’re going to hog the space and be shat on for acting like boyfriends.”

“logan’s sitting with us tonight,” alex answers simply with a shrug. “can’t fully commit to being your boyfriend tonight, mate, i’m sorry.”

“oh, how come?” george asks, furrowing his eyebrows. typically, logan would sit in the middle rows with his girlfriend. “doesn’t he usually sit with (y/n) or oscar?”

alex shrugs, bottom lip pouted out. “think they had a friendly squabble a couple days ago. he’s been weird since he arrived in vegas the other day.”

george surprisingly held on to the unspoken agreement he has with them. he hasn’t told a soul about seeing her in the gap between his door that one time. nor has told alex about it.

but he does talk to lando, which wasn’t a great conversation to start when he came up to him with a 50 pound bill in his hand. they danced around the information of knowing something particularly specific, and lando eventually blurted excitedly that he saw them on a date a few days back.

so maybe they fought. or worse, have they broken up?

logan arrives literally a second after the worst thought passes his mind. he takes the empty seat next to alex, greeting george with a small smile before leaning in to start a conversation.

he watches the door, curious at what’s exactly going on. he completely tunes out from the conversation, feigning intelligent answers and short reponses. his eyes dart over to the door whenever it’s pulled open, and sighing when it’s not the driver he expects.

he looks down at his watch. there’s about 10 minutes before the briefing starts for them. and, vegas is a race that had them come in a couple days prior to be briefed and conduct a short rehearsal for the opening ceremony.

luckily, there’s not much media around today, which would make tiptoeing around this issue a whole lot easier.

when the door is pulled open again, george lifts his head quickly, as he’s genuinely quite invested now. he raises an eyebrow and is taken aback by the girl holding the door open with a pair of sunglasses resting on her nose.

he’s absolutely forgotten the fact that she had texted him this morning about this issue.

she takes a step forward, but then takes two back. instead of walking in, she stays back outside the room with the door in her hand. pierre and charles walk in, thanking her softly before returning to their conversation.

there’s a momentary pause as she looks inside, where they’re seated, before she looks at somebody who’s in the hallway with her. oscar appears, motioning for her to walk in, but she shakes her head and simply points inwards to the room.

alex has chosen to settle for the wrong seats today, obviously. having logan sit right next to the door might be a bit more detrimental than he thought. but what would alex know? he doesn’t even know of their relationship.

oscar tries to fight with her, but she simply purses her lips. the australian slumps his shoulder before sharply turning on his heel and just walking into the room, followed by a distressed looking lando.

lando looks around, catching george’s curious eyes, so the man in orange simply shrugs tiredly at him.

she beckons for someone else in the hallway to walk in, but it seems that it’s a losing fight by the way that she’s continually waving her hands in the air to persuade them.

sighing, she just visibly sighs and winds her hand back to act out a punch. she drops her hands before finally turning around to take a step forward again.

if there’s any way that she announces her arrival, it’s typically by the scent of her strong perfume. her floral scent fills his nose, and it’s obvious that logan finally takes notice of her arrival.

because logan turns around, eyes trained on her as she walks in with an orange paper cup in her hand. what’s made everything stranger is that she simply walks ahead: she doesn’t spare logan another look as she walks down the side aisle to join max, oscar and lando who unfortunately only landed the front row seats.

george watches logan’s eyebrows furrow and press his lips together. logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably before turning back to continue their conversation.

“did you catch that, mate?” alex asks, nudging george’s arm with his elbow.

“what?” george tears his eyes away from the girl in front to look at the two men next to him. “sorry, i didn’t catch what you were saying.”

“right, so basically…”

she looks up at the giant yellow circle in front of her. she momentarily lifts her sunglasses to gawk at the ever changing expressions of the emoji face being projected.

“that’s so adorable!” she points out, reaching out to roughly pat max’s shoulder to get his attention. “look, it’s looking at us!”

“hey, your hands are not as light as you think!” max scolds, his arm darting out to catch her wrist in his hands. “you’ve got to make up with logan.”

she pouts, retracting her hand roughly from the older man’s grip. she drops her sunglasses back down to her nose and folds her arms over her chest. “what do you mean? you don’t like hanging out with me?”

“i do. trust me, i have the time of my life annoying the shit out of you,” max laughs dryly down at her. “but you are all over my hater hours. gawk at this… thing,” he points at the sphere, “with your boyfriend.”

“no,” she scoffs, simply shaking her head. she huffs and tries to walk past him. “forget it — i’ll just go and find yuki and hang out with him. he doesn’t try and push me away when i try.”

max sighs, rolling his eyes. he grabs her elbow and drags her back to him. he puts her in front of him, hands on her shoulders.

max reaches out and takes off the sunglasses, clipping it to the collar of his shirt. “you’ve got to talk this whole fight out with logan. stop ignoring him.”

“i’m not ignoring him. he’s ignoring me,” she insists, throwing a hand into the air.

“no, he’s not!” max cries, pinching the bridge of his nose. honestly, he didn’t want to enjoy this race in vegas. in fact, all he’s done leading up to this grand prix has been openly hate on the thought of even being here.

he didn’t factor in that he’d have to suddenly play the part of being an older brother and a therapist to the girl standing in front of him.

he has grown to be fond of her, yes, but he very much preferred not being put in the middle of all this.

“what?”

“yeah! he was literally boring holes into you when you walked into the rehearsal briefing earlier,” max points out. “and then he only left the room after you left; after you just walked right past him again without a flinch!”

“okay, listen! if you had the fight that we had, you wouldn’t make up so easily either, okay?” she rambles, hands on her hips in frustration. her puffy eyes are finally nowhere in sight. “you don’t even know what we fought about.”

“fine, then enlighten me.”

“we fought about this,” she circles her hands around them, motioning to the track setup around them. “about all of this! formula 1! it’s caught up to us!”

max furrows his eyebrows. “what do you mean?”

“i mean like i literally had the sebastian vettel vouching for me to get a seat this season,” she sighs, shaking her head as she recalls the fight they had before flying to vegas. “i mean like i’ve been in the points consistently since i crashed in baku and he’s struggling to even be on par with alex!

“how is that my fault, max? it’s not my fault!”

“you’re right: it’s not.”

“why does it feel like it is? i hate that this is happening to him, of all people! but how is it my fault that i’m delivering and meeting everyone’s expectations of me entering the sport?”

tears rush into her eyes. she presses the bottom of her palms into her eyes as her voice cracks, shaking her head hopelessly. “like, it’s not my fault we’re performing differently. i’m literally driving for my reputation and seat — i’m on probation with my team just as much as he is.”

max suddenly regrets poking her button. from what oscar tells him, they’re not typically the couple to have very big fights. it seems that he has misread the severity of the situation.

“oh, (y/n),” max frowns, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her. he puts his hand on the back of her head, gently letting her nuzzle his face into his arm. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know.”

“it just gets increasingly difficult to comfort him weekend after weekend. i’m at a high, and he’s just-“

“i’m sure it’s not easy for him either,” max cooes, swaying side to side in an attempt to comfort her. “i am sure that it is not his intention to… make you ‘feel bad’ of what you’ve achieved thus far.”

“it’s just so hard,” she cries harder into his chest. “i want to be there for him, really. but it’s hard! it’s hard when my team is out celebrating after every race because of my points finish and he’s down with what’s happened with his race.”

max looks up at the sound of footsteps against the gravel, catching lando and george trying to make their way towards them.

he holds up a thumbs up to them, nodding gently enough for her not to feel it, to send them the other way. it’s bad enough she’s crying at the f1 track four days before a race with majority of the teams still in the paddocks.

he turns his head to the side, by the grandstands, catching oscar and sebastian’s stare of concern. he simply flashes them a smile and a reassuring nod. in return, he gets a firm nod from the race engineer and a thankful smile from the young driver.

from what he knows, she hasn’t told anyone about this issue. perhaps that’s why she’s stuck to him all evening?

“i don’t think we’ll get past this, max. that’s the worst part,” she sobs, pulling away to rub her eyes. she heaves as tears flow out of her eyes, lips quivering and voice cracking with every word she speaks. “how can we even? i don’t know what to do.”

max frowns. he pushes her head into his chest again, this time, resting his chin on the top of hers. he doesn’t exactly know what to say.

their situation is so unique, that even he — with as much trauma as he carries around — does not know anything he can say that would make her feel better. so, he just rubs circles on her back as he sways.

“i’m sorry this happened to you,” he sighs, readjusting to now press his cheek on the top of her head. “i really don’t know what to say. there wouldn’t be any words i can string together to make you feel better about this.”

from the distance, he can see alex walking out of the pitlane. the bright blue shirt didn’t really make him hard to spot in the first place.

alex is the least of his problems. because behind alex is logan trailing behind him quietly, completely taken a step away from the conversation alex holds with some of their team members.

“do you want to go somewhere more private? teams are coming out to scout the track, i think,” max whispers, moving his head to look at her face. “let’s go?”

“okay. it’s kinda weird i’m crying here anyway,” she manages to mutter a joke. “my sunglasses.”

max almost wants to laugh when she cries even harder, reaching out for the sunglasses he’s confiscated from her a while ago. she removes it from his shirt, then replaces it on her face.

while she had paraded about with her chin in the air all evening, now she walks with her head down. her hair is out of the braids that blythe had styled her with, now falling to her cheeks to hide her away from everyone else.

if max could have continued walking the other way to simply avoid the williams racing team, he would. but if he did that, they’d have made a complete round of the track on foot. which doesn’t seem like a good idea at all with her state.

max slings a protective arm around her shoulders, walking around her body to hold her away from the prying eyes of those that walk past them.

as they slowly approach the team in blue, alex grows mildly concerned at the weirdly silent girl. “is sh- oh, okay.” alex nods understandingly, holding a hand up to wave max for an apology. all because she’s heaving silently in her sob in max’s arm that immediately told alex to not intervene. “sorry.���

and max just knows they’d eventually find a way out of this fight they’re in. because he turns around to gauge logan’s expression: he’s stopped dead on the tracks with a lingering stare on the crying girl.

max just gives him a small smile, to which logan forces a grin before turning away to catch up with alex who calls out for him.

surely, there’s a way around this. right?

[em-harlsnow]

short mini-fic 🫶

ian mainly gets tiktok because Debbie won’t shut up about it. She tells him it’s simultaneously terrible and really good, and starts posting videos of Franny to her private account. She whines that she doesn’t have enough followers, so okay, ian will bite the bullet.

he downloads it, only to see Franny. it’s pretty boring at first because the FYP hasn’t caught up to what he likes yet. eventually, though, he gets a bit more into it.

he starts following some gay or lesbian or straight (although there are fewer of those) couples on the app, watching some of their content because it’s funny. he follows people who know about gardening and people who aim to motivate you to run and eat healthy.

he’s been on it for around three weeks when he starts understanding trends. They don’t last very long, and some are kind of interesting. It’s almost like an inside joke but for the whole internet. one trend in particular, ian thinks is actually hilarious.

it’s a couple trend. it involves one person asking the other to leave while they get changed. maybe the beauty’s in the simplicity, because the reactions to it are wildly entertaining.

he just has to try it on Mickey.

he’s not gonna record, because he doesn’t really care for people knowing their private life.

Mickey’s sat on their bed on his phone when ian comes in, happily chuckling away to YouTube. ian walks over to the draws, grabbing his pyjamas so that he can change for bed.

“hey, can you leave while i get changed?” he asks Mickey, and the reaction is immediate.

“What?” eyebrows raised incredulously.

“Can you leave the room while i get changed?”

Mickey scoffs. “No.”

“Come on. I’ll be quick.” He tries to persuade.

“Then you can change here.”

“I just want privacy, i’ll literally be ten seconds.”

Mickey all out laughs at him, putting his phone down. “Privacy? fuck off with that bullshit. i’ve been up close and personal with both your cock and your ass, fuck privacy.” And then in a move ian doesn’t expect, mickey sits himself up and watches him.

“Mickeyyy, just please let me get changed. or at least turn around.” He pleads.

“No. I’m watching you get changed now.”

“Why?” Ian’s sort of running out of excuses as to why he wants to get changed away from Mickey, but he needs to continue.

“Because I like watching you get naked.”

Ian scoffs, then turns to go into the bathroom and change. Mickey grabs him by the back of his jeans and gently tugs him back to the bed.

“Is this an insecurity thing? coz you know you’re the hottest guy i’ve ever seen.” he says, blue eyes staring up at ian.

ian smirks. “thank you, and no, not an insecurity thing. i just don’t want to get changed while you’re watching me like a perv.”

Mickey smiles back. “i am your husband, we have been together ten years, i am perfectly fucking entitled to watch you like a perv. now get changed.” he grins, smacking ian’s ass to make a point.

“i feel like you didn’t do it right.”

Mickey’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Didn’t do what right?”

“It’s a tiktok trend where you tell your partner that you want them to leave so you can get changed. you made it sweet.” Ian argues lightly, finally getting changed.

“fuck off. i’m not sweet. and fuck off with your toktik bullshit.” Mickey replies, and watches Ian like a perv as he strips down and pulls on his pyjamas.

“sure mick, you’re definitely not sweet.” ian states sarcastically, and Mickey rolls his eyes.

[soupdeewoop]

sirius was in azkaban for 13 years.

which means the last time remus had seen him was 13 years ago, 13 years younger than how he actually is right now.

you know who else is around 13 years younger?

tonks.

[evoker-mercar]

Davrin: Tom Ford, Giorgio Armani, Ermenegildo Zegna

Lucanis: Dolce & Gabbana, Prada, Alexander McQueen

Emmrich: Ralph Lauren, Louis Vitton, Vivienne Westwood

[the-kinning-hour]

Kurogiri doesn’t remember what it’s like to be human. He didn’t even really know that he was human, at any point in his life.

For this reason, caring for Tomura was often hard. Despite being hardwired as a protector and a guardian, he was much less naturally proficient at the delicate empathetic touch that parenting needed. He didn’t know the smallest of things. That was very obvious the first time Tomura fell ill under his care. While the boy himself didn’t seem super concerned despite his abject misery, Kurogiri panicked. He couldn’t possibly ask All For One for assistance—the man clearly wanted to leave the nuances of raising a child to Kurogiri, and bothering the Master would prove no good for anyone.

Thus, Kurogiri taught himself how to use the internet. He scoured every forum he could understand how to open, searching for just what Tomura could be afflicted with (the amount of results were extremely worrying, just how fickle were humans?) and how to treat it.

Eventually, he settled for simply gathering as many of the offered treatments as he could. Over the counter medicines, antibiotics, vitamins, a humidifier, what are these patches even for again?, heated blanket, but also plenty of ice packs, is there a difference between chicken stock and chicken broth?, vapo-rub, hydrating lotion and oils, so much honeyed tea that Tomura became repulsed by the scent of it, and more cough drops than any sane person should have in one building.

These things quickly became Kurogiri’s fallback for any illness. Tomura would sometimes hide his sickness, when it came about, to avoid the intensive remedies, but Kurogiri insisted. It always worked before, hadn’t it? The misty nomu was proud of his ingenuity and his medical abilities.

At least, until the League came in.

When Kurogiri had broken the news that Tomura would not be present—sick, with what could probably range from influenza to appendicitis to a moderate cold as far as Kurogiri was aware—it garnered a myriad of reactions. Spinner, Magne and Compress at least had the mild manner to look a bit concerned, to varying degrees. Dabi just laughed.

All of them responded with bewilderment when Kurogiri began rounding up his usual treatment measures, however. Dabi asked rather bluntly, “Hold up, the fuck is all of that?”

Kurogiri looked at them all blanky and responded simply, “I must look after Tomura Shigaraki while he is ill.”

The League exchanged some looks then. A silent conversation he wasn’t privy to seemed to play out before his very eyes. Twice got too bored to bother involving himself, Toga soon to follow when she supposedly caught the drift that Kurogiri was missing. Spinner shuffled his feet and looked away. Compress, Magne, and a very disgruntled Dabi broke what remained of the staring competition all at the same time. Compress in particular put a hand on Kurogiri’s arm and insisted, “Actually, why don’t we assist you? You can put all of that down, dear. We don’t need it. …Any of it. Really, put it down.”

Kurogiri watched anxiously as the eldest of the League shuffled around his own kitchen. Compress pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, letting it sit on the counter for seemingly no reason at all. He then dug around the extensively filled medicine basket for a particular bottle, plucking two pills from it. Dabi set about making the angriest miso soup Kurogiri has ever witnessed. Magne busied herself with tea, because apparently the water wouldn’t be enough.

When the three of them were ready, they all ventured to Tomura’s room. Kurogiri tried not to worry too much. Some food and water? That’s all? Compress did grab some medicine—but not much at all! He trusted his colleagues, but he wouldn’t leave Tomura’s health to anyone else so confidently. Tomura has always had a poor constitution. Kurogiri resolved to check on the boy later discreetly, when the others’ feelings couldn’t be hurt.

When he went up to Tomura’s room that night, he was stunned to see the boy peacefully tapping away on his “switch” that he normally avoided in sickness because of eye aches and nausea. When Kurogiri asked after his health, Tomura had no response beyond a grunt of affirmation. He had healed… within a day? That had never happened before, not once! What sort of sorcery was this?

When he expressed his bafflement to Compress from the other side of the bar counter, the magician only laughed and patted his arm again. “You worry too much,” he said with what sounded like a grin. “Heaven only knows what quack doctor told you to get all of that other stuff! Some water and medicine every few hours can kick even the worst of sickness.” When Kurogiri was still confused, Compress tilted his head. “Haven’t you ever fallen ill? Toughed out a cold with some cough syrup?”

When Kurogiri still did not answer, the magician sighed. “You are a mystery, my dear,” he said ruefully.

Kurogiri felt the silliest he had in a while.

[carenlin]

kim dukja

[musicofthesoul-j]

I'm suddenly getting Agatha All Along stuff on my dash...

Who told this app I've been watching it every week?

[t3mpest98]

I feel like Thorn would be the one to run around saying “Let’s go lesbians” with a pack of lesbians behind him

[fckitweballllll]

the category is : soulmates who let a girl w a cunty bob come between them

[i-love-your-light]

fabian: hey man, sorry I dropped the ball on this.

jawbone: aw, fabian, it's okay, we all fall behind sometimes with the tasks we gotta do-

fabian: what? oh, no. I dropped the ball on this.

*gestures to a glass side table that is now shattered. riz walks in with glass sticking out of his side*

riz: he dropped me on this.