#you don't fool me

[oddbrainedtboy]

i think you're gay

i think YOU'RE gay

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Opps! The VERY 1st time Rachel Meghan Markle's pre-wedding mask slipped in front of the entire world

After 20 min of Duper's Delight

The Spare on megflix: "Unlike my family who stresses about the media, we don't worry about it bc we just decide to be ourselves and whatever happens happens."

Oh Really? Let us see for ourselves how you react after learning the cameras are still rolling.🤭🤔

"We did it, we fooled the World!"-The Meghans

Not so fast...

From Duper's Delight to Narcissist Rage

They Crashed into REALITY

If looks could kill: MEgain is seething w/anger as seen in neck veins & jaw

The moment Mishal Husain was written in Megain Markle's Burn Book

You Don't Fool Me!

[izvmimi]

i don't take any of those windbreaker men seriously because i know they didn't give a shit about school and some of us are goody-two-shoes by nature

[quantumelepant]

I'VE CONNECTED THE DOTS

I was thinking about how disappointing it would be to die, end up in hell and ON TOP OF THAT being a fucking TV screen and then it hit me.

In this essay I will present to you the reasons why these two characters are the same character.

Reason 1: they're blue

Thank you for reading, follow me for other groundbreaking revelations.

[telebisou]

White tumblr psyops find a lot of success with the 1990s playbook of false progressive language policing.

They seine with obsessive regularity for ways to target Black people without having to openly declare it.

It's meant to seem accidental that every effort at language policing targets the same Black communities they stole amusing "webspeak" from.

It would be absurd to imagine they're paid for it. They do it for love of the game.

[a-victorian-girl]

Sherlock didn't realize that he moaned orgasmically after chewing chocolate... Mmhm. And he doesn't understand why John reacts like that.

Sure, Sherlock, sure.

Chapter 17 - Angst

John had no idea where he was going but he needed to get outside and get air into his lungs. Even the laneway, charming as it was, felt claustrophobic. He moved swiftly to the main street again, desperate for fresh air, sucking in deep breaths. What was that? What was happening right now? 

How had he gone from being the annoying, womanising flat mate of a high functioning sociopathic detective to… to this? He was having sex cravings? For Sherlock? Is that what it was? He had been jealous at the club the other night. He had felt it. He’d promptly ignored the feeling, but he knew deep down, he had been properly jealous, seeing Sherlock lean across the bar and place those glorious lips beside the jaw of that young man to talk into his ear. He may have been trying to catch a killer but even so. And regardless of the alcohol, he danced with Sherlock Holmes… in a gay club. John never danced. John never entered gay clubs. He avoided anything remotely like that as if his life depended on it. And... he had bloody enjoyed it too. Which was even worse. That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? 

Since the club, John had been letting Sherlock take more and more liberties. He’d told his friend far too much information. Far more than he wanted to share with anyone, because he was going soft on his flatmate. He was having bloody feelings. He had managed to keep them as far at bay as possible and then all of a sudden, it had slammed him in the stomach, like a well delivered punch. His blood felt hot in his veins, his head was throbbing, his heart rate was thumping. He felt incredibly unwell all of a sudden. The doctor in him was concerned briefly - maybe you’re having a heart attack, Watson? Or a stroke? Or maybe you’re in love with your flatmate, like the idiot you truly are and you are going to need to work out a way to get rid of that as quickly as possible. Sherlock Holmes has no interest in you like that, you complete moron, he told himself. Was he the most attractive man you’ve ever known - both physically and intellectually? Yes, alright. He was. His beauty had completely caught you by surprise from the minute you walked into that stupid lab with Mike. You clearly miscalculated when you tried to use your charm to ask him out at dinner. That had been embarrassing, and you covered it well. Then you became a useful and invaluable part of the man’s work, and a trusted friend. You had a roof over your head. What in god’s name would possess you now, to let your head even go there? This was a complete disaster! Sherlock Holmes would never look at you the way you were looking at him just now. He has no interest in relationships. Everything he’s ever said has let you know that. Stop knocking at that door. 

John needed to just walk it off. Start thinking about all the annoying habits Sherlock had that drove him nuts. All the reasons he’d leave Baker Street if he had another alternative. That would be the safest way to calm down these stupid feelings.

——

Sherlock sat at the table a little stunned. What had just happened? Had he done the wrong thing? Maybe John didn’t like chocolate that much? Except, Sherlock knew that wasn’t true. John had secret stashes of chocolate in his bedroom at Baker Street. He was prone to buying them but forgetting all about them, which Sherlock knew, because he had stolen some on occasion, when desperation took hold and John never said a word about it. So what in god’s name had just happened here? He thought things had been going well. They had been talking, opening up about things in a gentle way. They had been laughing. They had been enjoying their time together, at least Sherlock had thought so. He had really enjoyed the last few days. John had somehow felt comfortable enough to open up and talk about some things he’d never mentioned before, and helped to explain some of the very things Sherlock had been concerned about. The things that made John seem completely unreasonable and homophobic, suddenly made a lot more sense. There was some history there. There was more to it, Sherlock was sure of it. Had he pushed John too far though? Had the last couple of days been too much for his friend?

He was tempted to call his brother and ask for advice, but Mycroft wasn’t all knowing. Not when it came to John. Sherlock had to trust his instinct, at least a little bit. John needed to trust him, if they were ever to find a way to a place where Sherlock could admit how he felt - when John was actually conscious to hear it - then John needed to trust Sherlock. And running back to the imposing older brother was not the way to do that.

Sherlock leapt up and asked the attendant for a packet to take his truffles with him, and was out of the shop as quickly as possible. He stopped outside, looking around the alley. No John. He ran up to the main street and looked both ways frantically. He did not want John to disappear into Brussels and get lost. John was a brilliant surgeon, but he had a useless sense of direction. Sherlock refused to have made progress with him only to lose him in a foreign city, especially before they had even met their client. He stood there deep in thought. What had I said? Or done? Something had really triggered John. Sherlock had thought he had been careful, gentle. As much as he’d like to leap in and just tell John he was in love with him, like his brother suggested, it just hadn’t felt right. And maybe John being asleep on the train was a sign. He wanted to be the centre of John’s universe, the way the handsome doctor had become the centre of his. But maybe it was too much to ask? 

Finally, in the distance, he saw John’s familiar figure, walking down the street, looking at the shop fronts.

“John!” he called out, but John was too far away. He ran up the street to catch up to him, pushing his way through people, trying not to create too much of a scene but not wanting to fall behind. When he finally caught up, he placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “John,” he said gently.

John flinched, turning his head in fright.

“Everything alright?” Sherlock asked gently.

John’s face moved through a few emotions Sherlock couldn’t quite read. “Mmm-hmmm,” he said, nodding a little too enthusiastically.

“Did I… Do something wrong? Can I help?” he tried.

“No, it’s fine. I just… it was too stuffy in there. I needed air. Sorry. The chocolate was lovely. Sorry I left you like that. I suppose you polished them all off yourself? That can’t be good for you, you know?” John said, trying to lighten the mood, trying not to look Sherlock in the eyes.

Sherlock held up the packet. “It wouldn’t be the same if I did that by myself, John. That wasn’t the purpose of the outing. We can enjoy them together,” he said, with the sweetest smile.

It hurt John’s chest to see it. “Oh, great.” He nodded and looked back at the shop window. His voice fell a bit flat. “I thought perhaps it might be an idea to look at the shops. I haven’t had a chance to do my Christmas shopping yet.” He looked at Sherlock briefly, for approval. “If we have time that is?”

“Of course. John. It’s just you and me today. We will meet with the client in the morning.” Sherlock watched John carefully trying to decipher what he was thinking. 

“Great. Shopping it is then.” John nodded, turning away from Sherlock to continue on the way he had been travelling. 

“We can look through some of these shops and then there are the markets as well,” Sherlock offered.

John nodded and walked on in silence for a while. Sherlock caught up with him and walked beside him careful not to interrupt his thoughts. 

“Sorry. For ruining the moment,” John finally offered.

“Not at all John. After all, it’s just chocolate,” he said calmly.

John scoffed. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he teased.

“Mmm, I know. That sounded completely wrong,” Sherlock agreed and the two of them smiled as they walked down the street together.

@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart @givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear @starlitkeys @lumilama @yorkiepug @talkativeanxiousturtle @kettykika78 @kittenmadnessandtea @whatnext2020 @egregiously-chuffed @chriscalledmesweetie @catlock-holmes@battledress @kholkate @randomquadballpun @little-owls-things @daltongraham @sillygirlsmindpalace @oetkb12 @odditiesandeverything @johnlockficclub @rainstarboii @bheadhe @hospitableasacactus @wssh13 @br-nz @solarmama-plantsareneat @givemesherbet-blog-blog @dw91165 @moonkeller @surprisinglyokay @r4venlyn @therealalexisamess-blog @rhasima @salmonsown @tropelovingpainter @westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @notjustamumj @melodious-me

@silvergoldsea

@pileofstardust2106 @e-b1838

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: November 18, 1995

Lyrics:

Oh oh

You don't fool me, you don't fool me

You don't fool me, you don't fool me

You don't fool me

You don't fool me, you don't fool me

You don't fool me, you don't fool me

You don't fool me

Da da da da dah

Da da da dah

Da da dah ah

Baby you don't fool me, yeah

You don't fool me those pretty eyes

That sexy smile you don't fool me, uh

You don't rule me you're no surprise

You're telling lies hey, you don't fool me

Mmm, mama said be careful of that girl

Mama said you know that she's no good

Mama said be cool, don't you be no fool

Yup bup ba ba ba ba da da da dah

You don't fool me

You don't fool me

You don't fool me, she'll take you (you don't fool me) break you (you don't fool me) and break you

Sooner or later you'll be playing by her rules

You don't fool me, you don't have to say 'don't mind'

You don't have to teach me things I know

Sooner or later you'll be playing by her rules

Oh (fool you) oh (rule you) she'll take you (take you)

And break you (break you) yeah

Mama said be cool

Mama said she'll take you for a fool

She'll take you and break you

Ba ba ba ba ba bah bah bah da da dah dah dah

Na na na na nah

Na na na nah

Na na nah ah

You don't fool me (na na na na nah)

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

Songwriter:

na na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

(You don't fool me, you don't fool me) na na na nah

(You don't fool me) na na na nah

You don't fool me

Brian May / Freddie Mercury / John Deacon / Roger Taylor

SongFacts:

"You Don't Fool Me" is a song by Queen, from the 1995 album Made in Heaven. It was released as a single in 1996, containing various remixes of the song. The song is one of the few which were actually written and recorded after the Innuendo sessions, and was written and composed by the band, under David Richards' supervision. It proved to be the band's final European hit.

"You Don't Fool Me" was one of the last tracks recorded for the album Made in Heaven and came about in a most unusual way. Brian May has explained on his website that the producer for the band, David Richards, more or less created the framework of the song single-handedly, building from bits of lyrics recorded just before Freddie Mercury's death. May has said that before Richards' work, there was no song to speak of. However, after Richards edited and mixed the song (including a bit of harmonies recorded for "A Winter's Tale"), he presented it to the remaining members of the band. Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon then added their instruments and backing vocals and were surprised to end up with a finished song that had begun as nothing. The style of the song is reminiscent of their 1982 album Hot Space, and a comment over that featured on their Greatest Hits III album.

The video is set in a night club where a young man encounters his former girlfriend and recounts the memories of their brief relationship. The theme of the song could possibly be a continuation of the story set up by earlier Queen songs "Play the Game" and "It's a Hard Life".

[sunsburns]

clark kent, who just loves to stare at you (18+)

he just thinks you’re so pretty. a view worth risking everything for.

and you think he’s pretty too—especially like this. his lashes flutter, eyes lidded but never closing, even as they well up, clouded with heat and desperation. his brows knit together, a deep crease forming between them, like he’s struggling to make sense of the pleasure, to keep himself tethered when all he really wants is to fall apart for you. his lips part on soft, shuddering moans, the kind he doesn’t bother holding back, doesn’t want to—he wants you to hear him, to know exactly what you’re doing to him.

his fingers thread into your hair, holding you there, tugging just a little whenever you take him deeper. you can feel the tension in his grip, the barely-there restraint as he fights the urge to pull you down, to chase the wet heat of your mouth. and then—

he whimpers.

a grown man, six-foot-whatever, broad and powerful in every sense of the word, whimpers at the sight of you gagging around his cock. and fuck, it makes something in you tighten, makes heat pool low in your stomach. you let him slip from your mouth, just enough to catch your breath, and watch how his eyes go wide, unfocused, his chest rising and falling like he’s forgetting how to breathe. you press a kiss to the flushed, sensitive tip, slow and deliberate, and he shudders—actually shudders—his grip tightening in your hair.

your lips trail down, tracing every thick vein along his length, your tongue flicking out to taste him before you work your way back up. never breaking eye contact. never letting him look away.

shit, you’re so pretty like this. he doesn’t want to look away.

and you don’t want him to, either. but you do love those fleeting moments when the pleasure overtakes him—when his head tips back suddenly, baring the length of his neck and throat, every muscle tensing under his flushed skin. you see the mess of bruises you’d left there, dark and blooming against his fair complexion. his jaw clenches, stomach going tight as his hips jerk forward, uncontrolled, needy.

yeah, you love to see him like that. that split-second loss of control before he drags his head back down again, like he physically can’t stand not looking at you.

there’s a tear slipping down his cheek now, his glasses fogged and slipping down his nose. his bottom lip trembles, wet and kiss-swollen, and then he’s muttering your name, voice thick with devotion and wrecked with pleasure. soft, sweet nothings spill from his mouth, each one punctuated by a moan, a whimper, a stuttered plea—

and then, breathless, ruined, he warns you he’s close.

[millionsknives]

[violetscanfly]

How to care for your scientist - a visual guide

[gayofthefae]

Will Byers is flirty and he's a smug son of a bitch about it too. Don't let anyone tell you different. Because what the fuck is this.

Look at his smug little smile. He knows what he did.

[uncanny-tranny]

I think respecting trans people comes with a territory of like... just because many people will pass as cis doesn't mean that it's a great idea to use their passing as a way of legitimizing how absurd transphobia is

Transphobia isn't absurd because I "look like a [cis] man," it's because transphobia is fucking ridiculous. It would be ridiculous whether or not I passed or whether I look like a "conventional man." I use myself as an example, but ultimately, passing or appearing normative should never play into whether or not transphobia is bad.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

the thing that requires the most suspension of disbelief in a lot of tos spirk fics is that Spock isn't just. immediately aware of Kirk's feelings. like can't you see the heart eyes??? Mr. Spock! I thought you were supposed to be observant!!!

[acheemient]

Narrator: But they were Michael Sheen.

welcome new followers. yes i am a pisces moon. no i am not a fan of good omens. yes neil gaiman is my ex (mutual) and we have a psychosexual thing going on while i desperately try to win him back. no i am not michael sheen. yes i do understand his methodology in his approach to aziraphale to a level that would arouse most criminology students. no i am not immune to david tennant. okay you're ready for what comes next now