yall i just finished season 8 and im scared ive never seen back to earth what if it sucks balls
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one of these days im going to write lesbian klaine and itll be OVER for all of you
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Working my way through the Hellraiser films because I basically just watched the first one on repeat for years. And.
Hellraiser: Bloodline is like....really good actually? Decent. It's a fun 3-for-1 AND allows us to fantasize endlessly about a 90s Guillermo del Toro's input (as he was offerred to direct it).
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I’ve got 2 because my emotions are everywhere Would it be enough/if I could never give you peace? Give you my wild, give you a child/ give you silence that only comes when two people understand each other
I unpack the test my mother sent and sit with it on my lap for a long moment, fingernails digging irresolutely into the plastic covering.
I don’t have to tell him I’m scared. He knows. He joins me on the bed, puts a hand on my waist.
False starts, false alarms, flinging tests into the trash. He’s sure it’s him, but I’m sure it’s me, my body not meant to be a sanctuary, always ever only a savage wood choking out the green buds that the sweet, stubborn sunlight tries to coax to life —
But I’m done thinking like that. We don’t know. So we won’t blame. We agreed.
“Well,” I sigh. “May the odds.”
He rolls his eyes. “Tomato soup for dinner?”
My heart flutters like the baby I’m beginning to accept we’ll never have. “I love you,” I tell him and kiss his brow. It’s a yes to dinner. A thank you. An unspoken no matter what. This is enough. We are enough. For the rest of our lives. Him and me. That’s all I need.
I take the test. Leave it on the sink edge. Return to the bed. We lay down, side by side, hand in hand, almost dozing a little in the summer sun through the open windows. The house is clean and smells of a gardenia candle from my mother.
The test beeps to tell us it’s ready. I get up, grab it without looking at it, bring it back to the bed.
“Ready?” I say. He nods. Ready to face another negative. Ready to move on. I flip the test over.
The bright positive sign gleams back at us from the tiny screen. I hear a small noise escape the back of my throat, feel Peeta’s arms go around me as I stare, my mouth agape, my eyes stinging, at the incredible impossibility before me. I pinion his hand to my heart and heave steadying breaths.
“Well,” he laughs shakily, kissing my hair. “Guess the odds had to be in our favor at least once, huh?”
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