#theirmadness.

[topshelfperverts]

everyone of ur portrayals is top tier. every char u touch is true to their nature but also uniquely urs in a way that makes me question whether u didn’t possess the creators and write them urself. i love every canon char u touch. ❤️

𝟏-𝟖𝟎𝟎-𝐇𝐎𝐖'𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

I wanted to do a bit so fucking bad but this was so fucking sweet that I genuinely couldn't come up with one that I actually liked. I take a lot of pride in how I write the characters I write because I want them to feel three dimensional and complex and lived in. I love thinking about who they are and why they think and feel the way they do and how they respond to the world around them as a result of those things, and it means more than I can say that its comparable enough to the people who originally created them while also getting to live out new adventures here with all the people I love and trust to tell new stories with, you included. fuck you with your nice words and heartfelt sentiments. I love you and everything you do and it's a privilege to get to tell stories with you.

[topshelfperverts]

☆☆☆☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity! ☆☆☆☆

you think you can come in here and say nice things to me

[thesubwcy]

closed starter for: @theirmadness! (link here)

muse: vincent peters. renowned novelist. closeted homosexual.

now this is certainly a first, he thinks to himself. naturally, he’s the one doing the people-watching, but it seems the tables have turned. it’s unclear if he was supposed to be worried, but he figured it’s better to under-react than cause a scene. the novelist’s hand twitches while he loses the grip on his pen. “aurgh,” a groan. vincent uses this chance to shoot a look. while he couldn’t get a good look from where he was seated, he knew someone was there.

it’s a book store, not a gawk and stare store. if i wanted to be looked at, i’d catch one of my films. he glares at the corner he’s most suspicious of. if he had better sight and actual glasses, he’d know what to look for. “i don’t do meet and greets, if you want to talk to me, you’ll need to sign up for that.” it’s a harsher greeting than needed, but vincent was an older man. he didn’t do first encounter meetings anymore, and he hated having to bond with his fans. not to be ungrateful, but it’s been so many years of being a public figure that he was more tired of being poked at than anything. he was human too.

[flips1de]

you're so big, i feel it in my kidney. [ from cameron @ house ]

There's a slight chance that she's exaggerating, a spur-of-the-moment sort of deal, as he finally pushes in and bottoms out inside her, taking his sweet time, letting her accustom to his girth.

Then again, he loves to think he's giving her something that her pretty Australian boy-toy can't provide: a taste of what a real man should feel like, through and through. To think she could've had this instead, had she made her intentions clearer, it almost makes House feel bad for her.

Oh well, better late than never, House thinks, and he knows he's partly to blame for how long this has taken them.

"Feeling good there, sunshine?"

He's being as attentive as he can manage, the clenching of her inner walls around his cock urging him to start moving, all a true test of his patience.

"Let me know if I can move."

[flips1de]

just kiss me, i can’t take this anymore. [ cameron @ house ]

The early morning sun that shines through the floor-to-ceiling windows of House’s office barely illuminates Cameron before him, and yet, she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, a constant he’s been reminded of all evening: first at the Oncology gala, walking past his seat at the poker table in a gorgeous, form-fitting sparkly red dress (she also caught the attention of Wilson, something House was surprised to find himself jealous about), then through the night as they worked together to solve their latest case.

Many times, House pondered the implications of making a move on her once and for all, but logic stated otherwise: There was no time for that.

But now that it’s all over and they’re alone, with her voice seeping through his fingers like honey, he’d be an idiot not to take up on the offer.

House stifles back a call of her name as he sets his cane on his desk and shuffles towards her, using both free hands to grab her waist and pull her toward him.

It feels just like he imagined.

"Don’t have to tell me twice."

Leaning down, House kisses her, smearing a bit of her lipstick as he struggles to hold himself back from deepening the kiss. Years of tension come to the surface, washing away all of his reservations.