@theartofmadeline
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The Stonewall Inn
ojovivo
Andulka
almost home
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Noah Kahan
official daine visual archive
Cosimo Galluzzi
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
todays bird
Doug Jones
blake kathryn
Interview Vampire Daily
roma★
PR's Tumblrdome
#extradirty
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Mike Driver
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Syria
seen from Türkiye
seen from Indonesia
seen from Brazil
seen from Chile
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Russia
seen from Nepal
seen from Israel
seen from Israel
seen from United States
@tocatchaforger
“ No- LOOK– no, shut up, I’m gonna stop ya right there, because you’re doin’ yourself a massive disservice in thinkin’ that I care AT ALL about what you think of me. ”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t care what you think about me, either. And I think you’re dumb!"
centuriesuntold:
“ Neal ! ” The Doctor calls it out, fiddling with some of the controls even after the landing has solidified, squinting at the monitor. ENVIRONMENT CHECKS aren’t something he’s regularly done in quite a while, but Neal is a CHILD, and he can’t just bring a child to a planet that might kill him in a moment with a lack of oxygen. SO, environment checks.
Except Neal isn’t answering.
“ Neal ! ” he tries again, frowning as he turns to see… a decidedly open door. THAT KID ! All eager excitement and reckless enthusiasm. The Doctor tries not to smile and decidedly fails. Ah, well. At least he can still hear Neal chattering from outside the TARDIS doors, alive and well in a breathable atmosphere. He flips the parking brake and sticks his hands in his pockets, sauntering out onto the planet beyond.
“ All planets have their hidden treasures, though if you’re expectin’ gold, I don’t think it EXISTS here. Nor silver. Maybe copper, I don’t know. There’re probably some minerals y’ve never even DREAMED of, though. Like whatever’s makin’ the pond water purple. ”
Neal’s peering at the fish in the pond when the Doctor finally joins him. He can’t see them very well; either they’re small or close to the color of the water or the pond is deeper than it looks. Still, they’re cool. They’re pretty, and he’s just not over how awesome alien planets are.
It’s the smell, really. It doesn’t smell, but it smells different than Earth. It’s like woods but different, a little sharper. Some planets smell like food, like umami, and then there was the one that made him feel like he was surrounded by cotton candy. Or maybe his nose has just been deadened by all the pollution. Hashtag New York City.
“Wow,” he whispers, looking up at the Doctor.
“Do you think there are people? Or -- sentient life?” he asks as he sneaks his hand into the Doctor’s. “Can we study one of the minerals? And I wanna find something cool to draw!”
“Whoa -- !”
The TARDIS lands hard, and Neal tips over, and he lands on his butt. He pats the floor as he scrambles back to his feet because it’s not the TARDIS’ fault. That’s why he should hold the railing, he supposes. He tugs his coat on as he races to the door and pushes it open.
“The water’s purple!” he exclaims, staring at a nearby pond. It’s not quite marshy, but it’s pretty wet and muddy. Not like he minds that sort of thing. “Where are we? Do you think there’s treasure hidden somewhere? All planets should have buried treasure.”
What? He’s nine and a half and likes pirates and thieves.
rxtherbewearingthehat:
“You owe me dinner.”
“Is that so, Agent Barrigan?”
"Do you need more pills?" (good guy neal 10/10)
“I…well it’s kind of to the point where they wouldn’t do anything…but thank you.” Andie replied, blushing softly. “Seriously, you’re very sweet for offering.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s fine.”
Neal -- got a bit flustered around omega ladies, and it only partly had to do with biological reactions. It was inexperience, the majority of his relationships having been with beta women, but more importantly it was this fumbling desire to be helpful but trying to hide it under a layer of cool.
He wished he’d thought to take an extra suppressant that morning because he could hardly help if it was more concerned with his own body’s reactions to her nearness. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Andie, hypothetically speaking, what do you think would be the best way to...” Neal’s mouth tightened as he considered his words. “Woo a certain Mike Ross?”
like this for a starter??? they may come slowly, i haven’t been on Neal’s blog in ages, but some transphobic shit on fb got me so angry that i needed to come back to my safe place where no one has ever questioned or belittled my identity or any trans person’s identity
[to build a home verse because lsdjflksdj] "I'm glad you're home."
“Six on the dot, just like I said.”
“Dad, you’re the best.”
AGGRESSIVELY FOLLOWS ALL NEAL CAFFREYS BECAUSE Y’ALL NEAL RPERS ARE FLAWLESS
neverthecon fellowshipofthemuses
Cute Starters
"I'm glad you're home."
"How was work?"
"Did you have fun tonight?"
"Get back in bed."
"Hey, I have a cold sore! Don't kiss me!"
"My favorite character died..."
"What's your favorite flower?"
"I'm baking a cake for us!"
"Happy Anniversary, ___"
"Aren't you going to give me a kiss?"
"Will you cuddle with me?"
"I had a bad day."
"Can't we just stay in bed today?"
"Please?"
"Don't make me use puppy-dog eyes!"
"Don't use the puppy-dog eyes!"
"Let's watch a Disney movie together..."
"Do you love me?"
"Will you marry me?"
"May I have this dance?"
"My back still hurts. Will you rub it?"
"Get up! It's morning!"
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"You look a bit tired, why don't you just stay home today?"
"I'll take care of you."
“Damn right you deserved that,” She growled, setting down her purse and basket. “Horrible is an understatement. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure out that you lied to me?”
She’d looked for him for a good five years of her life before deciding it was time to start moving on. She’d never gotten over him though, finding herself comparing everyone she tried to date to the one person who’d stolen her heart and forgot to give it back. She’d learned to live with the heartache and had even forgiven him for it, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him off the hook quite so easily.
“What the hell are you doing here, besides the obvious? Figured you’d be in another country by now.”
Neal’s heart crushed in his chest, and he found he couldn’t quite look her in the eye for a long moment. This was more than a misunderstanding, more than a foolish choice made by a boy not quite old enough to be called a man. This was Andie, his first love and his only real love, and he had owed her better.
“I thought lying to you was the right thing to do,” he said, “and it clearly wasn’t, but I didn’t do it to hurt you, I swear.”
There were few things he wanted to talk about in grocery store less than this particular topic, but damn it, she was more important than his pride. He shifted, discomfort edging along his features. “I got,” he started, then lowered his voice, “Ellen told me something about my dad, and I just needed to get out of town after that. It was selfish,” he said, and the truth of it made his tongue stick to the top of his mouth.
Neal was pondering the potatoes when he saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye. His gaze flickered over, a remnant of an instinct from years ago, when he stopped breathing.
It was her.
He’d been eighteen when Ellen had told him the truth about his father – not a hero gunned down in the line of duty but a dirty cop. And he’d run away, terrified of the truth placed on top of the stress that came with growing up. He’d left behind his life, his home, Ellen, and his girlfriend. Andie Thomas. He had made up some lie and left town.
He was walking over before he could think better of it. “Fancy meeting you here,” he says, inoffensively flirtatious.
Andie was in the middle of examining an avocado when she heard a man start talking to her. She turned, about to give him a snarky comeback to try and chase him off, but she stopped cold when she looked into familiar blue eyes. Eyes she hadn’t seen in almost ten years.
Before she could stop herself, her arm extended and she slapped him. Other customers looked over at them, raising eyebrows and shooing along their children as she stood there, glowering up at him.
“Excuse me if I’m not exactly pleased to see you.”
“Holy--,” he started before her slap connected, and he blinked, “ow. Alright, I deserved that.”
He rubbed at his jaw, oblivious to the people around them, because she had a singular quality of making the rest of the world disappear. But that was completely justified. Neal had never quite managed to stop thinking about her, even ten years after the fact, but he avoided ruminating on the end of their relationship as best as he could. He’d caused her pain, obviously, but he’d not been around to see the extent of it, and that was both blessing and curse.
“No, I don’t blame you,” he said carefully as he switched his shopping basket to the opposite hand, palms sweaty. “I was a pretty horrible boyfriend at the end of it.”
Neal was pondering the potatoes when he saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye. His gaze flickered over, a remnant of an instinct from years ago, when he stopped breathing.
It was her.
He’d been eighteen when Ellen had told him the truth about his father -- not a hero gunned down in the line of duty but a dirty cop. And he’d run away, terrified of the truth placed on top of the stress that came with growing up. He’d left behind his life, his home, Ellen, and his girlfriend. Andie Thomas. He had made up some lie and left town.
He was walking over before he could think better of it. “Fancy meeting you here,” he says, inoffensively flirtatious.
Ѡ (two days late I know but come on how could I resist)
[text] This is the best good-morning text I have ever received.[text] Your stomach makes a man want to eat off of it.[text] I’m not saying that’s something we should do, but it’s something to think about.
Send me 'I do' for a starter of an arranged marriage between our muses.
Send "Stay a bit longer. I want you in my arms." For my muses reaction to yours grabbing them and pulling them back to bed.
My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.
