#this kiss own my heart

[lyliacs]

reunited

[monpetitchattriste]

He is so smug

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

Kidnap my heart

Happy anniversary to the Greek gods, au!!! 3rd anniversary woah...I love this au so much! It's so nice to draw with the new designs.

Hope you are all having a good day. When this que posts, I'll be at work, lol.

Original Dream and Nightmare by jokublog

Greek gods au by me!

[saltygilmores]

@frazzledsoul shared an absolutely baffling take that she spotted on Instagram . Someone claimed "People are so distracted by Jess' looks that they overlook the fact he is a calculator (calculated?) person only at the age of 16 it's alarming and SICK that Jess knew how to manipulate Dean and Rory's relationship to make them feel uncomfortable with each other! Jess did this to make Dean feel insecure and paranoid so Rory got progressively more distant and Jess can take Rory away from him!" Dean wasn't insecure and paranoid until Jess showed up? I smell a trash take! Lessgo! I notice Dean's supporters who blame Jess for being a big ol Ruiner seem to gloss over Dean's jealousy over TRISTAN (who was nothing more than a bully and a harrasser that Rory wasn't dating or even interested in). If everything was so dang hunky dory for Dean and Rory (Lol, that rhymed) before Jess shows up, what is Dean's excuse for being insecure, paranoid, and making Rory uncomfortable for the entire first season of the show, another 5 episodes of season 2 until Jess shows up, then another some odd epsiodes into season 2 until Dean and Jess even just meet each other or are simply aware of each other's existence? The first time we truly see the rivalry between Dean and Jess start brewing on screen isn't until Bracebridge Dinner (2x10), and then it heats up for realsies in A Tisket a Tasket (2x13). So before 2x,10, who was using their psychic abilities on Dean to "make him" treat Rory like crap for 30 some odd episodes? He treated Tristan with the same jealous contempt as he did Jess, and I would argue it was even worse. in fact in Love, Daisies, and Troubadors, Tristan grabs Rory's books without her consent while Dean is in the Chilton parking lot. All he has to do is see Tristan with Rory's books (that she didn't want him to take and was trying to get back from him) and he doesn't ask Rory any questions. His temper is instantly set off and he becomes scarily jealous in the school parking lot and starts raising his voice at Rory in front of hundreds of other students.

Not to excuse Tristan for being a bully. Poor Rory is exhausted and she should probably just give up on boys, run away and join a nunnery. But we're talking about Dean The Butt Forrester here. Just seeing another boy carrying Rory's books was enough to set him off.

Just a very select few examples of Dean being insecure, paranoid jealous, and just a garden variety asshole, and Rory's "comfort" with him, long before Liz stuck Jess on that bus to hell:

See, he's more than capable of being a butt clown all on his own! Sorry Dean Lovers, ya'll get five seasons worth of your lover boy and we only get 1 and a half of Jess. You can't use Jess as a "get out of jail free card" for every shitty thing Dean does.

[iheartbookbran]

Also ngl I kinda love the concept of Debling courting Penelope and Colin getting jealous because of it, not because I ship it (he’s barely a character) or because I’m part of the crowd that wants to see Colin ~suffer (though I’m not opposed to seeing him dramatically yearn), but because the reason Penelope specifically is going after this vegan man is so fascinating to me. Like, she obviously doesn’t love him. But she will marry him to protect LW… she’ll marry him to please Portia, that’s so funny.

Girl’s so desperate to escape her awful family life while at the same time keeping her secret, but she also wants her mother’s approval. And she’s so caught up in that toxic mindset that she completely misses the guy she’s been in love with since childhood making heart eyes at her from across the ballroom.

Pen only has her parents’ terrible marriage as a frame of reference, so she probably thinks it’s a bonus if her future husband is much older than her because that could make her a young widow. He’ll leave the country for the majority of the year to fuck off to Antarctica? Oh to be left alone by your own life partner!!!

Meanwhile Portia is enthusiastically nodding behind Penelope like yes, perhaps he’ll die at sea, and neither of them think there’s anything wrong with this outlook in life.

Hilarious.

[wackachewbacca]

Just thinking about how Calamity is such a dark miniseries but it can be filled with such small magical moments and things. Ever since Brennan introduced the spell kites in episode one I’ve been in love with them and what they symbolize.

They’re the first thing to welcome Avalir back to Domunas miles and hours before it ever touches down with little gifts, letters, favorite foods, and well wishes from loved ones in Cathmoíra that have been working for weeks and months leading up to the return of their sister city just to let the people in Avalir know we’ve been thinking of you and happy you’re home

It’s the first time in seven years you get to hold something tangible that was made by people who love you and all these emotions are carried by scraps of paper, ribbon, and magic that fly hundreds of miles up into the atmosphere where any regular kite would be torn apart but really it’s all held together by the love and joy of friendship and family that will find you no matter the distance you go

[best-enemies]

remember when the doctor and missy literally had this exchange?

doctor: two hearts.

missy: and both of them yours.

like... it really happened. i keep re-reading it. i made it my blog name. i think about it all the time. and i still can't believe it happened. we really got this. this is insane

[mioakem]

guys i love c!quackbur as much as the next person but if we’re being real, c!dapduo was closer to being canon than quackbur ever was

[john-cleven]

Under the Same Sky (You and I)

“Come on, Buck, keep pace with us,” John mutters as he watches the squadron flying behind them. He knows he has to stay calm, has to stay focused, but the farther they creep into Kraut territory, the more John’s thoughts veer helplessly towards Gale. 

It’s not long before they’re ambushed by fighter pilots - far too many to count. They swarm the air like viscous wasps, intentions coated with violence. John can practically taste their hunger to kill as they surround the American planes. The Germans slip in from all sides, tearing apart formations with their high velocity bullets like the flying fortresses are made of paper mache. 

Amidst the assault, John hears Gale’s name through the comms. Alert and anxious, he swivels around to peer out the window of the B-17, searching. John’s heart jolts into his throat. Gale’s fort has been hit. Agitation and concern electrify the ends of his nerves, lighting him up from the inside out. Gale’s fort has been hit. 

Without thinking, John scrambles towards the back of the plane, fingers itching with murder. Fear and fury rampage against each other within his veins, clouding his mind. He pushes Murph aside and grips the machine gun with trembling hands. Red spots swim in his vision as he targets the Luftwaffe, soul salivating for their demise. He mercilessly fires upon the enemy fighter pilots, outraged that they continue to target Gale. How fucking dare they. 

Carnage surrounds them as they fly through the flak. B-17s erupt in massive clouds of smoke and fire. Crews leap from their wounded planes, desperate to survive. Airmen swing from parachutes, vulnerable to the bullets whizzing through the air. Bodies explode and break apart in bursts of crimson as they slam against forts, unable to change their trajectory, unable to avoid such gruesome, gory deaths. 

Time slows to a crawl as John ceaselessly fires the machine gun. He’s hyper focused, consumed by a burning revenge, consumed by a primal urgency to protect Gale’s fort from the German fighters that circle them like starving sharks in blood-infested waters. 

Finally, the Luftwaffe retreat, fuel running too low to continue their deadly hunt. John pries his quivering hands from the smoking machine gun in front of him and collapses to the floor. He tries to blink away the red clouding his vision as his lungs heave for air. They manage to drop their bombs on the factory, a successful mission. Still, John cannot swallow down the dread that has infected his body. Cannot tear his distressed thoughts away from Gale.

 “Is Cleven’s fort still with us?” he asks, eyes glued to the blue sky around them, as if Gale’s plane might emerge from the clouds at any moment, safe and sound. 

“They’re beat to shit and trailing way behind, but they’re still with us.” Intense relief causes John to nearly go boneless. He closes his eyes briefly and repeats the words in his mind. Gale is okay. Gale is still with them. 

Miraculously, they land in Africa. As soon as John’s feet hit the ground, he turns to wait for his friend. He watches the distant sky with intense focus, feeling suspended in that singular moment. Dread and hope clash against each other, sending the electrical currents in John’s brain into overdrive. He feels himself nearly shaking apart, feels himself nearing the edge of a precipice – because it’s all or nothing. 

Finally, Gale’s plane glides into view. At last, John’s heart has returned to him. He rushes to a jeep, blood pounding through his veins. He has to see him, has to make sure he’s okay. When John pulls up, Gale is helping his injured crew from the torn apart fortress. He leaps out of the jeep, barking out orders to help the wounded, then watches Gale carefully from a few feet away. He’s banged up, but John doesn’t notice any severe wounds. He clenches his fists and keeps his distance as he drinks Gale in with hungry eyes, all too aware that they are not alone. 

“I don’t know how you flew that thing all the way to Africa, but you couldn’t make the runway,” John says, feeling like he might collapse when Gale finally makes eye contact with him. God, he is so beautiful. John can’t help the affectionate smile that blooms on his face as he forces himself to not reach out for the other man. “It’s right there.” 

Gale doesn’t reply and walks a few steps away, looking for the rest of his crew. John follows after him, like a moth to a flame, but his heart drops when he sees the body the other men are carrying. 

“Who is it?” He asks quietly, eyes glued to the mutilated corpse of the airman. 

“Norman Smith, radio operator,” Gale replies, voice husky with sorrow and regret. John swallows down the bile that rises in his throat. Even though he knows that Gale is still reeling from the loss, John can’t help but to imagine the roles reversed. What if that had been Gale, blown apart? What if John never saw him again? 

“I lost four forts,” Gale says, tearing him away from his spiraling thoughts. John watches as the blonde aimlessly wanders away from the plane, eyes empty. 

John turns after him, trailing behind, “I know.”

John can see that Gale is drowning in his grief, still shocked from the bloodshed he’d barely managed to escape. He glances back at the few men left that are still checking on the plane, irritated that they aren’t gone. His fingers itch with the need to touch Gale, to feel his heart beating beneath his palm. He wants to hold him and comfort him, wants to climb inside his skin and live there forever. But not yet. 

“We’re gonna get through this. Come on, don’t stop believing that,” John says, trying to pull Gale back to him, away from that battle where Gale can only re-experience the demise and suffering of his squadron, of his men, of his friends. 

“Sure, Bucky,” Gale says, but John can tell he doesn’t believe it. 

Gale turns towards the setting sun, blue eyes dimmed and distant. John glances backwards one more time and breathes a sigh of relief when he notices they're finally alone. He reaches out his hand and twines his fingers through Gale’s. The man beside him barely twitches, still staring out towards the mountains that have begun to shroud the sun. John tugs Gale around to face him and places a gentle hand on his injured cheek. Gale stares at him, eyes still glazed over with anguish. John slowly presses forward to lean his forehead against Gale’s and strokes his jaw with his thumb. 

“It’s you and me, Buck,” he whispers, his love for this man spilling out from every pore on his body. 

He hopes that Gale knows that John would do anything for him, go anywhere for him. Without Gale, there’s no life worth living. John has been completely and utterly bewitched by the man in front of him since the moment they met. For John, there can be no one else. He patiently waits for Gale to see him, to come back to him. Finally, Gale’s eyes focus and he squeezes John’s hand that’s still linked with his. 

“You and me,” he softly repeats, eyes fluttering closed as John tilts his head and presses his lips firmly against Gale’s. 

[resuswhore]

I want to be in control, complete control, of my sickly lover whose heart is to weak and lungs to tired, their body over all being just far to fragile. I don't want to control them in your stock standard idea of control and domination that typically leans into darker elements like deprivation/punishment/etc. (cause while its not terrible, it just doesn't float my boat). no, I want to control them in a soft and caring manner; I want to control them because I want to keep them safe, to protect them from the world, to keep anyone from hurting them or tainting their already sick body.

I want to keep them tucked away somewhere, where the outside world can't hurt them, where I can be the only one their floaty eyes lay themselves on, where I am I the only one who sees their soft smiles and hears their gentle voice.

I want to keep him in a hospital-esque room, to keep him laid up in a hospital bed and in those pretty, baby blue hospital gowns, dwarfed by layers of thin blankets and soft white sheets. I want him entangled in lines and wires, constantly hooked up to a monitor, the soft beeping of the EKG filling the room. I want to be able to monitor every part of his being, I want to know about every beat of his heart, every breath his takes, everything.

I want to practically pounce on him every time his heart gets a little to so slow for my liking, straddling his bony hips (gonna make a post about how horny straddling makes me too), forcing a fraction of my weight into his brittle chest, locking my eyes on his as he gives into my care, head resting limply back on the pillow, his tired gaze cast through his lashes, as I control his most vital organ. I want to beg him to stay with me as I force his heart to beat faster and faster. I want to pump him full of morphine I dig more and more weight into his chest. I want him to offer me his lungs, letting me shove an airway down my throat, because as I much as I love to control and pleasure, he likes to give up and receive, letting me fill his lungs with my air, kissing his plump, pretty lips between each one.

I want to put him into long periods of bed rest where I have to do everything for him. I want to spend long days cuddling, listening to his heart, letting my hands rest over the small dip in his waist, feeling his ribs shift with each breath. I want to have to carry him around anywhere and everywhere he goes, even within his own room.

I want to use drugs to keep him at different degrees of haziness when his hearts too weak to support his consciousness, I want to use pacers when it refuses to pick up the pace, I want to keep him on oxygen so I know his lungs are getting all the air they can get. I want to hold his hands and promise him that I love him. I want to promise him that he's ok, because I'm here and I'm never gonna let him go.

I want to make him feel good on his good days, making his lashes flutter, alongside his heart, and pull sweet moans from his pretty chest. I want to repay him for how good he makes me feel. I want to fuck him until he can't think straight, till his heart can't take it, just so I can take care of him again.

all the while I want to be able to offer him time to have visitors, to leave the tranquil space I've created for him, and for him to not take up those offers, to want to stay with me and me only, to want to show me off, to show off how protective and loving I am on those rare occasions we do break from the norm. I want him to always have this gentle look in his eyes, to be in a constant state of submission, because he knows he doesn't have to fight for himself, that I'll do it for him, that I'll do all the hard work, his just has to lay there and look pretty, a knowing smile on his soft, kiss swollen lips.

I want that my life goal, my livelihood, my purpose; to take care of him, to keep him alive and happy and safe, to be his protector, to keep his heart beating no matter how badly it wants to stop. that would be the absolute dream.

[yoan-le-grall]

[camels-pen]

completely unrelated thought to literally anything i've been doing today:

canon Sanji getting swapped with a Sanji from a genderswap AU. key point is that everyone's p much the same personality wise

there are crises going on. but mostly for canon Sanji lmao

this includes:

Luffy still likes to walk around w/ an open shirt

Franky also still likes to walk around w/ an open shirt

Usopp, guess what, also likes to walk around w/ an open shirt

granted, Usopp at least wears crop tops sometimes

Brook looks pretty much the same except for speaking mannerisms / voice pitch; startles the hell out of Sanji bc he keeps expecting it to be his Brook until a Skull Joke comes out of those chuckling teeth

The knee jerk reaction to Robin and Nami keeps crossing wires- one moment Sanji will just register a guy in his peripheral but not who he's speaking to and cuss and complain and shit. then the realization will kick in and he'll be caught up trying to apologize, but then wondering if he does need to apologize because uh, Nami and Robin are guys here right?? and they're not his Nami and Robin, but at the same time he can't just be rude to Nami and Robin-

he ends up staring into space for a while thinking in circles about it

Zoro is now of the gender he typically dotes on

"H-Hey, Moss-chan-"

"Don't call me that"

"Right. You want a smoothie?"

"I'm not gonna fuck you."

Usopp is the easiest to dote on, followed by Chopper, Franky, and Luffy. funny thing is, aside from Zoro, none of them have complained about/refused said doting. Sanji is reassuring himself that his list doesn't mean anything. he's not falling for Usopp just because of a pair of tits. that'd be ridiculous. after all his Usopp has got plenty big tits already-

he slams his head into a wall trying to forget that thought

also. he has no outlet for any frustration/anger/overwhelming feelings because he's got his code of chivalry thing. so he can't fight Zoro and he doesn't want to fight Robin or Nami. he starts smoking more to compensate, but then he either runs out or Chopper intervenes and gets him to promise to limit his use

in short. suffering.

This Nami and Robin do notice though & while Nami very much does not want to fight Sanji on account of, yknow, not wanting any broken bones or terrible injuries, Robin on the other hand-

He knew it'd help Sanji and it'd be nice to have a sparring partner to practice the more deadly things he can do on someone who can handle it, so he's kinda like "if it'll help, i don't mind sparring"

Sanji is caught between "oh fuck yes, finally someone to kick" and "I CANT HURT ROBIN-KUN"

the sparring ends up very pathetic on Sanji's side of things- think his fight with Kalifa but without him trying to bluff and looking openly stressed- Usopp listens to Sanji's woes about it later while she tinkers on inventions lmao

Usopp is also oddly clingy with Sanji, more so than his own Usopp. However, Sanji doesn't even bother thinking about it, just happy to soak up all the affection. He always has some sort of crisis thinking about his own Usopp later though.

Zoro, and I cannot stress this enough, is a woman. a buff, sweaty, mossball of a woman.

so yeah, suffering.

fem sanji, on the other hand:

having the time of her life

proud bisexual woman going "dear god, so many hot guys- wait shit, is that mosshead"

starts getting "overly friendly" with Usopp- laying his head in her lap, playing with his hair, carrying him around, calling him pet names, making him special snacks, etc.

everyone else puts it together real quick, except Usopp. who doesn't realize the answer until fem Sanji gives him a goodbye kiss on the cheek before going to prep for dinner

The answer: fem Usopp and fem Sanji are dating

fem Sanji: he's Usopp, therefore he's my partner in this flipped world, therefore I gotta treat him right while his own Sanji isn't here

Usopp wants to tell her the truth. but also. doesn't.

he is a mix of guilt and happiness every time he doesn't speak up and gets some gesture of love from her

in conclusion: one way or another, there is suffering all around <3

[funtheysaid]

That’s got to be the best, most insane, most satisfying, MOST FASCINATING season finale I’ve ever watched in my life. Holy fuck.

[tragicotps]

Marisa Coulter + showing her true feelings through her daemon

[bleaksqueak]

Honestly, I'm really grateful that my brain isn't wired to jump from hyperfixation to hyperfixation. It has its own unique drawbacks, sure, but I've always found it really comforting that I know what to expect from myself.