#steady fingers

[madmansmarch]

hello, everyone. leans against wall. have a Shroud.

[bookrat]

Little guy is sold, thanks~

[thenonbinaryslut]

Ik this is the kink blog but but I just got my first proper corporate job and I am so proud of myself and I need to share this with someone :D

[wildsaltair]

okay Mr. Crowe I see how it is

[chubsthehamster]

I mentioned this in the end notes of my choose your own adventure fic but. does anyone else go crazy thinking about the ticking clock set to the tempo at the beginning of vow. because I do. every day. every fucking day.

[iamthepulta]

It's evil that I can't scroll the tag for the Ghosts TV series because I'll get spoiled and it's so good when you watch it fresh.

[t4tstarvingdog]

fucked up that i’ve hunted a turkey before but not a buck…

[halfbaked00q]

cam we talk more abt genderplay

saw a photo of leighton meister (stagedly) getting lipstick put on her and the brain went gnfbfbfkfngnbrrtr what if this but Q & Bond.....

u know. a la Tom Ford Lips & Boys.....

[rimouskis]

for the record MY votes were for singer EK, guitarist Tanger, bassist Geno, and drummer Sid

[transmechanicus]

I figured out what’s been fucking slicing my finger every time i cook and wouldn’t you know it it’s the flat of the blade of my chefs knife goddamn it

[pallabsofficial]

Who's answering these questions?

[the-winters-prince]

This trip is gonna end up with us sleeping in the same bed together because you insist I am as fragile as a baby apple blossom and will die if the cabin temperature raises by 2 degrees

I need to feel your breath on my skin or I worry that your lungs have stopped working and I have to do mouth to mouth

[sunlessea]

do u think tumblr could put the block option any closer to the follow one on mobile. Perhaps right on top of it so i play gacha any time i do one or the other not knowing which one I’ll pull

[cosmobrain00]

if will were to play an instrument wht would he play I wonder

[cagesings]

@heygutlcss / riff sent: “ i love you. i’m sorry. ”

she doesn't want to talk to him. it seems whenever they fight, everyone else on the farm picks up on it. people noticed when riff didn't show up for any of the meals for three days straight, even though she avoided any and all questions about it ( it was rare to see the two of them separated; even rarer for mrs. mclellan not to be seen sitting next to her husband during meals, knees brushing under the table or gripping at his hands on the days she looked paler ). earlier, johanna went as far as to snap at lucille for not keeping up with her. if there was one person she never tried to get irritated with, it was lucille who was hardly more than a child. whatever happened, it was worse than the previous times. it was worse than the morning after their wedding night.

avoiding her husband was more difficult than she thought it would be. when he disappeared for those three days, it was him avoiding her. johanna doesn't know going into town alone and despite being the main caretaker of their finances, couldn't bare to spend any of it on an inn. not when they were saving up for a house. both of them are stubborn people. trying to out stubborn the other was like a dog trying to chase it's tail. unlike that dog, they caught up to each other eventually. johanna made him talk about what happened with uncle at some point. riff brought her to a hospital at some point. but they never had an argument like that before. johanna can't remember a single time where she had raised her voice before that. they fought before. over her desire to get a job, over each other's respective health, over the morning after a night that was soft and sweet and the sudden swift in tone afterwards. never a fight like that.

they knew exactly how to hurt each other. they've lived with each other long enough and their names have been on that marriage certificate for enough time that they know exactly what's considered off limits and what's eating the other alive. part of this aching, johanna thinks to herself, is exactly how they've stung each other. she never meant to bring up the judge in comparison to him. she never wanted to confront the ways she's broken so verbally. despite all of the wedding anniversaries that they've celebrated together, the memories associated with being called mine blocked out everything else. johanna didn't want to try to explain herself in words they both understood. she yelled and she hurt him.

he hurt her, too.

she wants to stay hidden where she is. cheek pressed against the wood of the barn. wedding ring ( the one he made from his spoon when they were at the church ), in her lap, two fingers preventing it from falling onto the dirt floor. head swirling with thoughts of how possessive her husband could be and how much she misses him. at the sound of his voice, johanna forces herself not to look at him. she can see riff out of the corner of her eye; not nearly well enough to read his expression, only to tense as if he's come back just to throw another hurtful thing in her face and leave.

he doesn't.

johanna lifts a hand to wipe away a tear.

❝ can you say that? ❞ how else am i supposed to say i love you? what she called possessiveness, he called love. she takes a quivering breath. ❝ can you say that instead of . . . ❞ they both know what she's talking about. instead of calling me "mine." ❝ can we just tell each other that we love them? ❞ as if they were a more normal couple. as if they haven't been through everything that they have. ❝ i love you. i couldn't even go that far from you. i've just been waiting . . . ❞ she doesn't bother to wipe away any more of her tears as she looks back at him. to see the hurt in his expression. ❝ i'm sorry. i said horrible things. i'm sorry. ❞

[julictcapulet]

for @asystcle // our ships as couples that make me feel incredibly unwell and unhinged.

part iii. lucille &. monty as…anna &. vronsky — “don’t you know that you’re all my life to me? but i know no peace, and i can’t give it to you; all myself—and love...yes. i can’t think of you and myself apart. you and i are one to me. and i see no chance before us of peace for me or for you. i see a chance of despair, of wretchedness...or i see a chance of bliss, what bliss!...can it be there’s no chance of it?”