curlybeardedginger

[arcaneoddity]

So there's gonna be elections here next month and the green party's campaign slogan is "vote as if there was a tomorrow" and I legit did a hysterical little laugh when I first came across one of these, what kind of doomer move is this, who is your target audience, what are you trying to sAY???

[lunarheslwt]

2015 Louis hugging Harry shirtless.....I love knowing the future and knowing exactly what is going to kill me

[ariseastrae]

Content creators are actually joining tumblr and I cannot fucking compute. I'm like- instinctively wanna hiss at you but that's mean. :(

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THERE WAS AN RGG AROASPEC WEEK

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

finally marked all the 8th grade maths tests and like. i've only just met them this august but 1 of them has 0 correct answers. 0 points out of like 50. i have no fucking clue what is happening in there. i have no clue how he's gotten to the second to last year of compulsory education and he doesn't have a standing appointment with a special teacher

[b4kuch1n]

study of this masterwork

[thepunkmuppet]

HAPPY GERARD DAY HELLSITE!!!!!!!

YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!! YIPPEE!!!!!!

[bluebutlikenotalways]

Now THAT’S what I call a wet dream hahahahaaahaaaaahAAAaaahaaaaaaaaAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I know this is the only part you care about

also I got all the character references from cosmicwhore because they literally the one who got me into these two in the first place

[yapperina]

*passes note*

"Zayne and Xavier steal MC's panties pass it on"

nonnie.... first of all, i want you to know that when i saw this ask, i felt like a movie protagonist in a scene where we can see a red dot from the sniper hiding nearby appear on their forehead. what the fuck. how did you figured me out i literally ranted about it to my friend recently

SECOND OF ALL zayne acquires your panties on accident, actually. maybe you were taking a shower at his place and dropped them somewhere. maybe just left them on the hamper like an idiot and couldn't bring yourself to ask afterwards. you know, one of whose things you never bring up because you're too mortified.

zayne tries so so hard to be normal about it. goes as far as loading them into the washer with the rest of his laundry, but at the last minute snatches the panties out and stands in the middle of the bathroom, crumpling them in his fist, breathing heavily. tells himself that he'll just take a proper look and that'll be it. this time for sure. just a peek, even.

the thing is, i don't usually see zayne getting off of the feeling of humiliation. but in this moment, he's sooooo ashamed of himself. bewildered. in a full-blown crisis mode. you can NEVER learn about how hard he's gotten standing alone in his flat and scrutinizing the gusset of your panties. well, since he's already went this far maybe a sniff couldn't hurt either. he's resigned to his fate.

ends up jerking himself off right there, bent over the washer, with panties wrapped around his cock. it's not even particularly pleasant but he cums in record time, red-faced, drenched in sweat and a little wild-eyed. actually does the laundry after that but throws the panties out. if he checks his bathroom extra carefully when you stay over next time it's between him and his conscience.

[revasserium]

hiii, can I still request a drabble? if yes, I want to ask for prompt 1, vocabulary list: stay with rafayel. bcs I think this boy is definitely a tsundere, will do and say literally anything but the truth that he wants you to stay with him. clingy rafayel is just so cute! thank you, I love your writings by the way ✨

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

24. vocabulary list: stay

rafayel; 2,073 words; fluff, fem!reader, pining, slight!spoilers, no "y/n", teeth rotting fluff

summary: 5 times rafayel asks you to stay + 1 time you do instead

a/n: it's just cuteness u__u

001.

“Stay.”

You are both children, and the summer sea is lapping at your feet. Sand squeezes between your toes and shells glitter like diamonds scattered across your stretch of secret beach. Rafayel’s pinky is hooked through yours. You laugh a laugh that sounds like heartbreak, even though Rafayel is too young to know what heartbreak means —

He wonders, later, if creatures of the sea are both with heartbreak in their bones — because what is heartbreak if not the sea? With the way it sings to an endless sky, the way it cups the world in its palm, the way it loves so helplessly — the beach, the seafarers, the rain — only for its loves to sink into its depths and never rise again.

“I can’t — you know I can’t!” you’re still laughing, digging your toes into the sand, as if this were all just a game.

Rafayel huffs, “I don’t! I don’t know!” and he knows he’s being petulant, being childish. But he figures he still is a child, by the measure of the sea, so he should be allowed at least this.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” you say, you promise, so carelessly, as humans are wont to do.

Rafayel bites his lips, and a part of him knows that you won’t be. Still, he forces a smile, a sigh, and nods.

“Okay then… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

002.

“Stay…” he’s drunk. He can taste it in the weight of the humid air on his tongue. It’s late — the summer moon hanging huge and turgid on the horizon. Even the tide is lazy as it sloshes against the long stretch of shore just outside his window, weighed down by the summertime dreams of long lost loves, the shrapnel bits of broken promises.

You sigh as you look down at him, your eyes bright in the dim lighting of his giant studio.

“I really should be getting back…” you glance at the large clock on the wall, but your eyes flicker back towards him and Rafayel seizes on the chance, pushing himself up and tugging at your sleeve.

“You told me you’d come back and now… you’re leaving again…” he knows he sounds like a petulant child but he feels like a petulant child, the half-bottle of champagne dulling his senses and muffling his usually razor sharp wit.

“I —” a frown creases your forehead as you crouch down beside him, looking over his face, “I said I’d… come back?”

Rafayel sighs again, letting his eyes fall shut, “You don’t even remember…”

He feels the cool of your palm against his cheek and fights down the urge to moan and lean in closer, to press you to him.

“You must really be drunk, huh…” your voice is soft and helpless, but he can hear the hint of your resigned laughter. A moment later, he feels the couch dip as you sit back down, tugging his head into your lap as you run an absent hand through his disheveled hair.

He shakes his head, “Not drunk…”

“Shh… just sleep, okay?” you murmur, pressing your hand to his forehead and smoothing out the tiny frown threatening to crease his brows.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” he asks, even though he doesn’t really want to know the answer.

Your laughter is soft, and maybe even a little sad as you caress his cheek.

“Maybe.”

003.

“Stay… still.” Rafayel has both your wrists pinned above your head, his eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. You tug at this grip, cheeks flushed as you glare up at him.

“Stop! It’s fine —!”

“It is not fine,” he bites out as he reaches down to tug up your shirt. You squirm beneath him, your skin burning hot as his eyes skate down the length of your torso to catch on your lower abdomen, where you can feel the wound you’d gotten during your latest mission splitting open, oozing a steady stream of warm blood onto your freshly laundered sheets.

“This — you —” his eyes are wide as he looks up at you before his gaze is drawn back down. A look of horror seeps into his face as he lets go of your wrists.

“I’m — it’s okay — I’m okay…” you say, wincing as you push yourself into a half-sitting position, him still half-hovering over you with an expression caught between anger, terror, and confusion. You sigh, looking down at the large, rather ungainly gash on your lower abdomen.

It’d hurt like hell, sure, but now, it’s mostly faded to a dull throbbing and the occasional zing of pain that shoots up your spine. Vaguely, you wonder how many stitches it’ll have to be this time.

“Y-you’re…” Rafayel sounds distraught, and even though he glares at you again, you can hear the tremor in his voice.

“I just need some sleep… and tomorrow, I’ll go get it checked out.”

Rafayel slumps sideways onto the bed next to you, an arm thrown over his eyes.

“I’ll come with you.”

“If you want,” you lay back against your pillow, shifting gingerly so as not to agitate the wound even more.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah, in the bathroom — but —”

You can only sigh as Rafayel makes his way to the bathroom and comes back a moment later with the first aid kit and a determined frown.

“Now really — stay still.

004.

“Stay close…” Rafayel’s voice is sweet and warm by your ear.

You bite down a rack of shivers a second before he pulls away, laughing at something someone is saying. The bright lights of the exhibition are a bit overwhelming but you’d promised to show up, and so you had.

The dress you’re wearing is a bit tight, but you hitch a smile to your face as a wealthy art collector smarms at Rafayel, waxing poetic about canvases and colors and the sea. You watch with a muted amusement as Rafayel charms the man into a purchase, and then, as soon as he’s got the signed check, sends the babbling socialite on his way before turning back towards you with a soft shudder.

“I think that’s enough networking for one night.”

You blink, blustering as he tugs you off to one side, grabbing two more glasses of champagne as he goes.

“Wh — but — what about the other buyers?”

Rafayel rolls his eyes, “I really only need to make one or two big sales a year, and then the rest —” he flaps his wrist with a painful, marked nonchalance, “that’s all just for clout, anyway.”

You heave a deep sigh, swallowing down a laugh as Rafayel sips at his drink.

“Shouldn’t you at least try to appease some of the other attendees?” you ask, looking around at the various glitterati of Linkon society.

“Nope!” Rafayel sounds too pleased as he grins at you, reaching out to clink his glass against yours, “I don’t really care what most of them think, anyway.”

“Most? So… you do care what some of them think?” you probe, curious now as to who’s opinion Rafayel might put above his own.

Instead, he leans in, pressing in so close that you feel his hot breath against the lobe of your ear, feel the weight of his words ricocheting down your spine —

“No… just the one.” He pulls back and your heart stutters in your chest.

“And… who might that be?” you ask, your voice breathy and thready and just a tiny bit jealous.

Rafayel’s smirk pulls wide, “Oh… a certain Hunter with a mean streak and a weird obsession with claw-machine plushies.

005.

“Stay with me… please…” his voice is hoarse with want, his pupils blown so wide they almost swallow the midnight magic of his eyes.

“Rafayel, you’re burning up!” you press your palm to his forehead and frown, your other hand wrapped around his wrist, his pulse fluttering beneath your grip.

“D-don’t worry — it’s just — it happens ever year —”

“Still! We should go see a doctor —!”

“No! No — no doctors…” his voice is harsh and he pulls you back towards him with such force that the wind is knocked clean from your lungs as you sprawl against his chest, held there by the weight of his arms and the aftershocks of surprise still coursing through you. Vaguely, you note that he’s much stronger than he’s ever let on — less vaguely, you note that his thumbs as pressing into the bare skin of your side as he bites his lips and looks anywhere but at your face.

“Rafayel? Are… are you okay?”

“It’s — I’m fine —” he lets out another ragged breath and you know implicitly that he’s lying.

“You’re not fine — I’m going to grab some ice — o-oh!” you topple backwards as he pulls you back, strong arms encircling your middle as you try too get up and make for the kitchen.

“R-Rafayel?”

He lets out a long breath as he hooks his chin over your shoulder; in your periphery, you can see the dark blush blooming across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, can feel the heat seeping through his thin shirt and yours to your skin. You can smell slightly salty sweetness of his skin as he holds you to him, his eyes closed, lashes almost damnably long in the moonlight as he tugs you back and slumps against the couch.

“I don’t need anything else but you… so… can you just… stay?”

His voice is soft, almost pleading.

You swallow; you nod; you sink into his embrace, wondering briefly if you’d felt something similar to this before. Or perhaps you’d made a promise like this, once upon a time. But the moon is soft and low and heavy on the horizon, and the sea outside is sweet as it shushes against the long stretch of beach, the water casting a myriad of dancing starlight scattering across Rafayel’s studio ceiling.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, leaning back into his embrace.

“Good…” he says, nosing into the soft spot between your neck and shoulders; you shudder as his lips brush against the sensitive skin there, “good,” he says once again before leaning down to press a longing kiss to your shoulder.

006.

“Stay…” you peer blearily up at him through the haze of sleep, all your limbs feeling both heavy and weightless all at once. The events of the night prior flashes behind your eyes and you flush hot at the memory.

Rafayel lets out a soft chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“Hm?” you make an uncomprehending noise, frowning slightly as he leans in to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand, still sitting up, the soft white sheets pooling around his middle, the morning sun casting him in a halo of silver and gold.

“Nothing. I’m just gonna go grab some breakfast — I’ll be right back.”

Still, you pout, digging your fingers into his wrist as you shake your head and whine.

“Don’t… don’t leave.”

Rafayel lets out a soft sigh, laughing as he leans back down to kiss your bare shoulder.

“I’ll just be in the kitchen… I won’t go any further than that — I promise, okay?”

You loosen your grip ever so slightly, “Can your promises be trusted?”

He tuts, gently tugging his arm free, “Of course they can — I found you again, didn’t I?”

You hum, burying your face back into the soft linen cover of the pillow as Rafayel gets up to prep breakfast.

He returns less than ten minutes later with a silver tray and a helpless smile as he looks down at your slumbering form, before he leans down to press his lips to yours, curling his fingers into the baby hairs at the nape of your neck and shimmying back under the blankets with you.

He loops his arms around you and smiles to himself as you burrow deeper into his chest, mumbling incoherently.

“Stupid girl… as if I could ever, ever leave you again.”

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

can't wait to see him again tomorrow! Tomorrow!!

[nothankyoudear]

I think it genuinely cannot be overstated how important that kiss in season 2 of Good Omens was.

From a plot standpoint, that kiss showed Crowley's desperate attempts to keep Aziraphale, to reel him in and back to the Us that they had built upon.

But from just a show standpoint, they. fucking. kissed.

Obviously their love transcends physicality, and Neil has said that Good Omens is a love story even before season 2, but the outright confirmation of a widely popular queer ship ON SCREEN is just so... Unheard of.

Every fandom or show has their trademark gay couple that aren't-really-gay-but-also-kind-of-are-gay: Merlin and Arthur, Sherlock and John (very heavy offender), Dean and Castiel (okay this one was canon, but we all know what happened IMMEDIATELY afterwards), and I suppose at some point Ineffable Husbands had just been included in the same category as the rest of them.

And to have it be moved from mostly fandom and fan work fuelled to outright canon - like 'they fucking kissed on screen' canon - is just so fucking fantastic.

It's not vague, it's not lines that are blurred for the sake of being on the fence of appealing to two audiences at once, and it's not only canon because the creator just said it's canon without rhyme or reason purely for the sake of appealing to a queer audience (looking at you, Ms J. K. Rowling) - it's undeniable, blatant evidence that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love.

And yes, at the moment it's devastating, but it's also devastatingly real. And that's so important.

Especially with the release of Our Flag Means Death, I really do hope we are entering a new era in mainstream media where queer ships finally aren't treated as some sort of mysterious prize that the writers dangle in front of you like a carrot on a stick, and are just simply treated like any other ship out there.

Because if so, then queer kids will be growing up to these shows, see this new era of unabashedly queer media, and won't have to hide away their ships like some dirty little secret. They won't have to wonder if their representation is even representation. They won't have to get excited over being able to see the small chance of themselves represented in a character only to be let down so incredibly badly, because queerness is good only when it's marketable.

So sure, ending season 2 like that is fucking crazy, but you know what's crazier? Whatever the fuck Neil just did with that kiss.

[sefynarose]

[dailysolidarity]

You should compare grian and Jimmys wings if your grian is a little freaky lad and you feel confident in drawing him

Day 20!

It's hardly any competition.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

HELLO?!??!!?

Im

Not okay

Please wait 1-2 business days to contact Kay about this Dawnbreaker looking mother fucker and his Hungry Like the Wolf kiss.

Because I NEED A MOMENT

Link for you guys

[mineonmain]

Tell me i'm wrong...