gabolange

old school fangirl. multi-fandom whore. ace/aro shipper queen. purveyor of elaborate latinate phrases. you can call me fish. fic at ao3.

[stan-trek]

Star City 1x01 "The Eyes"

Chief Designer x Galina

[eymurn]

Oh! The intimacy of adopting each other’s vocabulary.

[isbtwneotsfbous]

they destroyed my lovely collection so i'm gonna make a whole new one for her for us to listen together once i finally get out of the soviet union

[werenotreallystrangers]

We don’t know how much time we get with people

[isbtwneotsfbous]

[tofutomato]

you gotta read, you gotta write, you gotta draw, you gotta watch films and shows. there is literally NO time to be employed

[zodiacsuite]

insp.

[champagnearab]

Imagine finding the love of your life

[isbtwneotsfbous]

[catsbeaversandducks]

By Andrés J. Colmenares

[digitaldiscipline]

This is the 85 year old creator of Roger Rabbit:

[isbtwneotsfbous]

[deslizada]

man sometimes friendship really is just "I saw this and knew it would give you psychic damage. please respond with agony" and then they do. and it's great

[splhcb48]

To our shared secrets.

[mournfulroses]

Empress Jitō, from a poem titled "The Empress's Song," featured in Japanese Women Poets: An Anthology

[zodiacsuite]

[writergirl23]

Delenn in Downbelow (3.11 Ceremonies of Light and Dark)

[stuckinreversemode]

RIDE OR DIE (2026) | Trailer

[rhfffas]

shes not wrong

[zodiacsuite]

all my happy dreams were now | chapter 9

Томление [tom-LE-ni-ye] Describes a state of sweet agony, restlessness, or languorous pining. It is the specific ache of yearning or desiring something so deeply that the anticipation almost becomes pleasurable.

Summary: Margo feels clammy in her own skin, a thin line of sweat gathering at the back of her neck that has nothing to do with the Florida summer or the kitchen’s steam. Her blouse clings uncomfortably, she’s painfully aware of every seam and stitch of her pantsuit, and she has to resist the urge to fan herself with the drink menu. It’s all a little overwhelming – the noise, the heat, the words still glowing hot at the edge of her thoughts – and she isn’t sure anymore whether she wants to escape it or sink further in.

She wonders what Sergei’s doing right now back in Houston—imagines him at his desk, trying to focus on some report and failing spectacularly, glancing at his inbox every few minutes. Margo almost feels bad for him, picturing him having to sit through some team lunch with his colleagues an hour from now, forced to make normal conversation, having to adjust his pants to hide his er—Knowing him, he’s probably rereading his own d-mails, second-guessing every line, wondering if he’s overstepped.

Or; Margo has to go on a business trip. Sergei is not taking it well. Neither is she.

6K | So Much Yearning, The D in D-mail Stands for D*ck, Phone Sex

[dragon-in-a-fez]

One thing I love about Babylon 5 is the idea that humans got out there into space and found out we were actually the least melodramatic motherfuckers in the galaxy.

Like okay, you've got the species whose rulers live their entire lives in a dark room with no furniture to symbolise their commitment. The people who directly equate hair circumference with social class and get super angry if all six of their penises aren't accurately depicted on an action figure. The reptilian marsupials who will force a guy to become the central prophet of a new religion whether he likes it or not. The celestial entities who are so obsessed with being mysterious they pretend they can't breathe normal air and wear fake spacesuits everywhere they go.

Even the minor species are like this. The Roswell grey type guys who literally communicate only in crop circles. The ancient beings who will make you wait four hours for them to answer a phone call and then just say "Zog" and hang up on you. The species that apparently consists solely of ten of the same guy, and every one of them starts every conversation with a comment about how much it sucks having a menial job.

Imagine being the first human to meet any of these. You would have to immediately go back to Earth and sign up for a series of Shakespearean improv workshops.