#tiarawcman

[pulitzerpanther]

"I don't understand this song's fascination with tropical places as a get-away, especially considering that the titular Kokomo doesn't seem to exist where he says it does." Rhea raises an eyebrow. "Is it perhaps fantasizing about a place like Neverland or Pleasure Island for adults? Either way, I would much rather NOT go."

@tiarawcman

Cat, who hasn't seen someone read so much into a song outside of (drunkenly) perusing yahoo answers one God Awful night in the earlier part of the decade, doesn't look up from her phone, but does arch an eyebrow. "What about Kokomo doesn't sound appealing?"

She is, after all, still a journalist.

[vorcotec]

15!

Tell us about their sex fantasy? Things they want to try and do, but haven’t yet.

jane has a #1 sexual fantasy and it’s for a woman to specifically just ride her face and use her to get off. obviously she’s eaten women out before but i’m talking like. she wants it to go for multiple orgasms until they’re both exhausted and jane’s jaw is sore and her face is beyond messy and she wants it to be not about her, she wants it to be about her gf just taking and taking and taking and jane just giving and giving and giving. that’s really it tbh it doesn’t get any more elaborate

[amazonluthor-archive]

Lillian wasn’t really expecting to see Rhea again after she helped her escape from Cadmus. So seeing her at her trial was already unexpected, but having her turn up here, in her apartment, is almost strange enough to make her wonder for a wild moment if she’s imagining it. 

But Rhea is standing there, looking completely out of place in her bare apartment. Lillian blinks several times, and then says slowly, ‘well, I didn’t expect to see you twice today’. 

@tiarawcman

[thefacelcss]

@tiarawcman:

“You hate happiness.  Admit it.  It’ll do you good.”

                  “why should i be expected to care about someone else’s happiness?                     you’re in the same boat.  don’t act so high and mighty.”

[alurazearchive]

{continued from here}

She regrets pushing Rhea seconds after she’d done it, but she can’t take it back now. Instead, when Ysan lets her go, she curls her hands into fists, staring at the woman with her jaw clenched, the muscles in her back so tight it almost aches. 

‘I thought I was alone’, she says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper, ‘I thought I was the last. All those times... you let me believe it’. Her brows incline, and for a moment, confusion overwhelms her anger. ‘Why?’ 

@tiaraghoul

[elvenstardesign]

Customer submission, more beautiful people getting married wearing our jewellery. Love it!

[inze]

@tiarawcman continued from x

A small part of her knows better. She shouldn’t be doing this. Not because Rhea is a woman, but because of their people’s history. Still, she shifts forward, one hand placed on the back of the chair, the other on Rhea’s shoulder, pushing the other woman back, heavily, into the back of the seat. 

“Shh.” She doesn’t speak for a moment, eyes scanning Rhea’s face. Astra doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but the way that her entire body reacts with want is more than enough confirmation.

Hair falls from where it was tucked behind her ear as Astra leans forward. “You ruin it when you talk,” she states. Despite the perhaps distastefulness of the words, her inflection is soft. She leans down more, pausing for a moment. Astra has never done this. With a woman, a Daxamite. It’s also a small pause for permission. It’s only a moment, but then Astra goes all the way, her lips brushing against Rhea’s.

[docere]

@tiaraturkcy

The Doctor had not intended to end up here.  Of course, intentions mean little in the grand scheme of things. Mrs. O’Leary’s cow hadn’t meant to kick over a lantern, but that doesn’t change the fact that the entire world had blamed it for burning most of Chicago to the ground. Hard to blame the cow for being spooked by a teleportation device sparking like that.                 ( Wasn’t hers, to be clear. )                             ( She would NEVER use something that crass. ) Either way, the cow was there then, and The Doctor is here now.          On Daxam of all places.                                She doesn’t like Daxam.  It reminds her of death and darkness -- all the parts of herself and her history that she’s tried to shed over the last handful of years. She’s getting older; she doesn’t have the time to carry around that baggage, not when there’s people to meet, places to see, and moments worth living. She’s back to being a traveller again. Not a god, not a savior, not a murderer -- just a traveller.  And as a traveller, she might as well poke around for a while, even if the TARDIS had brought her to this place without asking first. She slips out of the door as inconspicuously as possible, pulling it closed with a click and pocketing her key. She’ll do her best not to lose it again. She doesn’t like leaving keys spread across the universe. Who knows who might happen to pick one up?  She turns the corner, coattails flaring out behind her and almost immediately collides with another person.                        “Oof, so sorry,” she says, offering up a slightly awkward smile that still manages to read as genuinely contrite.