#jo let's & go

[donutdrawsthings]

I need to see how you draw the third doctor looks like pleeeeeease! He’s my favorite!

I offer you this doodle of him and Jo Grant🤲

[spnstillstudies]

28/327 (KO-FI♡)

S2E06, “No Exit”

[femninedelusions]

How are we feeling lesbians?

[slimeysodaa]

FreshTV was a COWARD for not having them interact more.

they interact like with each other maxium of three times and Anne Maria fully defends him TWICE; once in Ep4 when Jo called him dead weight and then again Ep5 when Scott tries to say Brick stole his stuff. I’m sure if this season had more then 14 episodes, we would’ve gotten more of these two, they deserve it.

they’re besties, Anne Maria gossips about everyone and Brick listens intently, they oogle cute jocks and talk fashion together, Anne Maria is a totally big sister to Brick, THEY ARE FRIENDS.

[vos-videmus]

Beach day

[mydream-synopsis]

i like to think togame was raised by his grandparents; as a result, his idea of love comes from observing his grandparents and their display of affection. so when he looks at you, he imagines growing old together.

[dogearedheart]

I want to believe

[moodboard for @limbel]

[tulisydan]

Yeah yeah it’s been like hundreds of years from the Nordic tour but Bojan glancing constatly towards the backstage during the whole second tavastia show is my fucking Roman empire.

INCLUDING during A sem ti povedal:

The worst part? He didn’t even bother to hide it. [x]

[companion-showdown]

Who has the Most Fun Relationship with the Master?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[arkvra]

[Doodle]

Cheong myeong and five swords

Hahaha I just want to share this idea🤣

[shoshiwrites]

7 from the February Nosebleed Club prompts for Jo/Egan🖤 - @lostloveletters

7. "pinky," Bucky Egan/war correspondent OC. @mercurygray or @basilone didn't know they were collaborating with me on this but they did:)

If she’s keeping count, this is the second time Bucky Egan has acquainted his fist with someone’s face on her behalf. 

That she knows of. If she’s keeping count.

Someone. William. Her William. Was. If he’s anyone’s William he’s not hers anymore, as he stumbles back, his fingers grasping at the worn, smooth wood of the bar. Rubbing his jaw as it makes a noise that curdles her stomach. He tries to hit back but he’s too stunned, too fuzzy from the beer, and Bucky just leans back and lets him miss.

His shoulders slope towards her like an aside, as he demonstrates with his hand. Behind them, the publican starts making noises, about the lack of respect, the threat of throwing them all out. It’s all true. She’s seized by a sudden flight in her feet, but he’s standing here next to her, and she doesn’t move. “See, just like I told you, gotta keep the thumb in like this-”

William runs his tongue over his teeth, his voice ragged and angry and different. “Jo.” 

She opens her mouth to speak — to say, she doesn’t know what — but all John does is stand between them, the threat of more should someone dare try, the blood rushing in her ears.

The woman William had been chatting up — the one in the blue dress — the one whose name she does or doesn’t know — is gone. 

And he leaves. Turns and leaves like a coward before she’s had the chance to throw the ring in his face. Not that she's one for that kind of display, but considering that her companion, tall enough that he has to watch his head for the beams, had just been moved to fisticuffs completely sober, well-

It all sounds different now, in her voice. Breaking, light. “John.”

“You alright, Captain?” he says, before he catches himself, realizes what she’s just called him. She’s not a captain tonight anyway, and maybe that’s one in her army of mistakes. Her trousers, her blouse, the medallion beneath the neckline. She wears it now instead of keeping it safe.

Is it raining outside? It smells like it will, or did, when she pushes through the door, the air thick and almost warm. He follows her out, the bike or two parked outside and a jeep. Around the side of the pub, a quiet path.

“Jo.”

What is she supposed to say? William doesn’t think she deserves to be here. William doesn’t think anything she writes is any better than anything any man with a byline could spit up. And she’d agreed to marry him. She’d thought that was ok. 

And John-

The day they’d come back from the scrapped mission, the one she’d been allowed to observe. Observe. A miracle she can hardly still believe, in more ways than one. Dumb luck, more like. It still sets her heart racing, if she thinks too hard about it. 

The ground beneath their feet again, and her knees knocking together and her ankles, the relief. The scarf damp against her collarbone. I knew you’d get up there, he’d said. You don’t let us tell you no. Mention how good I looked flying past you n’ Buck, alright?

Like it wasn’t a question. 

“Jo, tell me you don’t think he’s got the right to do that to you.” She’s frozen, like something could wind back what just happened. Her eyes fill with tears. He sees them, she knows he does. She’s still wearing the goddamn ring. She shakes her head, the smallest noise.

"What do you want, Jo, huh?” The question moves through his whole body, his arms, his hands. He means it, every word. You want me to find him and hurt him? I’ll do it. You want me to go kill a guy, I’ll go kill a guy. I do it all the time, it’s easy. “What do you want?" 

You.

It’s a shock in her chest, for the times she’s thought it before. Like a match lighting in a dark room.

Quieter now, his eyes trained on her. “What do you want?”

“You to kiss me.”

He stops. Only a second, trying to see her in the dark-dusk, against the trees and the tangled hedges, the last slivers of fading light. 

She’s looking up at him, watching him, before he stoops, so close that she can feel the curls against his forehead. A breath, that shaking pause, before he presses his lips against hers. Seeking her. He doesn’t taste like the beer he hasn’t drank, only toothpaste and the smell of aftershave, and warmth, and a little sweat. 

Her top lip in both of his, her hands at his jacket, her fists balled like she’ll drown.

“Easy there,” he says, the words dancing with a laugh, the complete absence of meaning it. She can’t help it, the stupid grin on her face, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb on her cheek. The way he doesn’t stop kissing her.

The smallest stuttered noise in the back of his throat, the kind she feels in her hips. God-

“John-”

“Say that again.”

She whacks her palm lightly against his shoulder, pulls it back slow as his tongue catches at her front teeth. “Won’t push my luck on a Bucky, then-”

“Since when-” she says, and he wants to laugh again, how breathless she sounds. He’s here, he’s here, for how long, for how long- “Since when don’t you push your luck-”

He smiles against her mouth. The noise of people leaving the pub, or coming in. She straightens up, but he doesn’t pull all the way back. “If that’s all it took to get you to smile-" The back of his neck is warm under her hands, the short hair. He’s a little breathless too, the kind that stops her heart. “Am I better?”

Her lips press the soft spot against the side of his mouth, so firm she feels the gums beneath.  “What do you think, Major?”

He’s beaming, here in the dark. “I think I like it when you call me Major.”

“Do you, now?”

“Or John.” He presses his thumb against her chin, her bottom lip.

“Or Bucky.”

Soft against her ear, his voice. “Or Bucky.”

[seatawinan]

Perth Tanapon and Chimon Wachirawit in Never Let Me Go

[elliewilliamsisactuallymygf]

sobbing, crying, throwing up

PLEASE THIS SHOW IS PHENOMENAL

[danmeigirl]

Next up - Gyeongseong Creature : Najin Apocalypse

[todayisafridaynight]

matrophobia

[sambambucky]

extremely curious about “Marie Laveau and her family of terrible witches”

hehehe soo this is something from a halloween bingo a couple years ago, but the prompt has long escaped me.

bucky's a loner with a vague crush on sam, who is always taking random guys to his room (across the hall from bucky naturally), never to be seen or heard from again. after hearing more concerning noises than ususal one night (Halloween??) bucky finds blood and broken glass all over sam's dorm room and follows him up to some fucking castle where sam's family is having some kinda goddam coven meeting .. here's a snippet!

“You didn’t know where I was? You came looking for me?” Sam asks in a rush, impatient, but something else too. “You were worried, that’s it?” “I guess,” Bucky shakes his head. “Yeah, I mean – yeah. I thought you might be hurt. There’s blood –” “Put the ring on,” Sam says, reaching up to turn the light out again. “Make it fit.” Bucky slides over his thumb, and Sam helps him into the robe. “Where are we, actually?” “Stay behind me and don’t say anything. No matter what, okay?” Bucky laughs. “What kind of fucked up costume party –?” He tries to step out of the closet and back into the drafty hallway, but Sam presses in close, shuts the door again. “Bucky,” Sam says, pleading. A few hours ago, Bucky didn’t think Sam even knew his name, and now he’s saying it like that, burning him up from the inside. They’ve barely been within six feet of each other in the last few months, and now their mouths are inches away. Obviously Bucky’s going to do whatever he asks.

idk ! there's blood magic and dance rituals and a sibling power struggle and if i ever figure out how to make the bucky pov interesting while sam is the one doing all the fun stuff it'll be over for you hos!!!

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! ♥