#fast & feel love

[hinamie]

trick or treat!

[triona-tribblescore]

Its like miraculous ladybug with how bad his vision is- (Died over the layout good luck trying to read it in order im sorry- TwT <3)

[uncanny-tranny]

Amatonormativity has destroyed so many people's understanding and acceptance of themselves, and it's heartbreaking.

Yes, it is normal to be in your 20s, 30s, or older and not have lost your virginity, had a first kiss, or a partner. It is normal to say that you aren't ready for those things, too! It is normal if your life doesn't follow the "college graduate -> engagement -> buying a home -> 2.5 kids and a dog" trajectory that so many people have idealized.

So many people associate maturity with losing your virginity, or having a first kiss, or a serious relationship, and I think that's a dangerous association. Maturity isn't gained through those things, and you don't have to have those experiences to be considered "mature" or "grown." It is not a bad thing to go at your pace. Nobody else can live your life but you. If you end up having those experiences, that's great! But it should be done because you want to experience them, not because you feel "broken" and "immature" without them.

[gaylittleguys]

unstoppable force vs immovable object

[wynntermelon]

Slow dance with you

[hairmetal666]

Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.

The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.

And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.

They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.

"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."

"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.

With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.

He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.

Instead.

Instead it's easy.

Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.

They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.

But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.

They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.

The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.

It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.

A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.

The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.

Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"

"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."

Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.

"Okay," Eddie says.

"Okay."

Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.

He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.

They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.

It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.

As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--

All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.

They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.

It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.

The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.

Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.

He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.

Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.

"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.

"I've been insane about you since the trade."

Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."

It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"

He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."

"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."

[secretsimpleness]

Sometimes I want to bring Morrigan but then I remember I play as a face-tanking rogue and I bring Wynne. Warden Cousland, Morrigan, Wynne / Dragon Age Origins (c) Bioware

[celaenaeiln]

At the dining table for breakfast

Jason: Heh.

Jason: Hahahaha.

Jason: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Bruce: *raising the newspaper up higher*

Alfred: *placidly pouring coffee into Bruce’s mug* Did something interesting happen, Master Jason?

Jason: Alfred, I am about to have the perfect surprise for that bony a-Tim. The perfect surprise for Tim.

Alfred: *putting away the bar of soap he pulled out of nowhere* Is that so? Please do be careful not to make a mess here. The waxing was just done in the dining room.

Jason: No problem, in fact-

Tim: *entering sluggishly*

Jason: In fact…in…fact…Megamind, what are you doing here?

Tim: ……..hm?

Jason: What are you doing here?

Tim: eating??

Jason: You-why are you coming from the right side bathroom-weren’t you going to use the upstairs one on the left?

Tim: oh. Dick was already in it so I decided to use the other one.

Jason: what.

Tim: what.

Jason: No. Hahahahaha. You’re joking…nononono-god, Tim, WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID?

Tim: ????????

Jason: You-

Dick’s voice thundering from a floor away: JASON!!!!

Jason: *staring blankly then running forward and smacking Tim on the head* It’s all your fault!

Tim who hasn’t slept or had coffee or know why something he doesn’t know about is his fault: ???? WHAT DID I DO?!

Jason: *running past and leaping out the window* See you later, losers. Bye, Alf.

Disappearing seconds before a blur of wet skin, white towel, and neon pink hair rushes past and follows him out the window.

Tim:

Bruce:

Tim: ……Did you have breakfast yet?

Bruce: …….Hrmgh.

Alfred: *tutting* I just had the floors done. Master Bruce, would you mind redoing them? I’m afraid I must catch the mailman before he gives treats to Titus again. He’s leaving crumbs all over the entrance.

Bruce: What about Ti-

Bruce: *glancing back to see a lone leaf float in and drop slowly to the ground*

Bruce: ………

[artist-rat]

I feel your breath upon my neck / a soft caress as cold as death

[boar-cry]

Gear Station is not haunted. No, Gear Station is alive and well.

A bit of an explanation below the cut:

I had this idea at the end of September, and it has had me in a death grip ever since.

I've always had a fascination with stories about haunted houses, of which aren't haunted by ghosts or demons or monsters, but are instead deemed haunted because the House itself is Alive. The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, Anatomy by KittyHorrorShow, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, just to name a few.

But after a while, it got me thinking; if a House could be Haunted, then what else could? What about other feats of architecture? How about ships or stations?

And if Houses learn to hate because they are abandoned by humanity, can other places learn to love because they are loved by humanity?

Anyways, this is a very VERY long-winded way to say that two of my special interests have combined into the idea of Gear Station itself being Alive and watching over the twins and its other inhabitants. Hopefully nothing bad happens after realizing an eldritch Being is possessing your workplace, and I hope nothing bad further happens after realizing it Knows you! 🫶 surely nothing can go wrong!

[hellenhighwater]

look guys I'm gonna be honest--i love dogs but the tactile experience of petting a cat is better 99% of the time. Cat fur is so much softer and less greasy and just generally better than most dog fur. IDK if there's some ideal chinchilla dog out there that I have yet to lay hands on but man, dog fur textures are whack. Cats, at least when they're healthy, are so reliably smooth and silky.

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

first-person perspective tour of love&deepspace exhibition at shanghai bw2024 comic-con part 4

players interact with sylus, rafayel, xavier, zayne

[yayakoishii]

my favourite bits from Ch. 368:

Mephisto being overtaken by a horde of tiny many-eared children screaming VICT-EAR-Y while he can do nothing but let himself be buried

This yall's kingmaker, one of the 13 crowns, possibly a Tet (9) level demon? (He definitely is atleast Chet-8 but his position as kingmaker makes me think that he might even be Tet, although we don't have any confirmations for his rank yet, do we?)

[starcurtain]

One thing I wish I'd see more of among Ratio fans is some thought about how he views himself as a teacher.

Like yes, of course he refuses to compromise on the quality and rigor of the education he imparts, and he would find it unforgivably unethical to lower his standards in order to pass more students who had not genuinely learned the material. This is core to his character.

However, as someone who is a teacher IRL, I know the absolutely miserable feeling setting that kind of standard can cause. There's the obvious disheartening sense of disappointment ("Are students these days really not capable of doing the work correctly? Is our future in danger, if this is the highest level of understanding our current generation of students can achieve?"), but even worse than that is the self-doubt.

"Is this somehow my fault? Am I not teaching this material in the right ways for the students to learn? Is there something I could have done differently to get through to these students? Would a better teacher have a higher passing rate?"

We know that Ratio does (or at least did) struggle with feeling inferior to the Genius Society, so I think it is also likely, as much as he absolutely will not budge on his academic standards, that he has doubts about his teaching ability as well.

This is the man who wants to educate the entire world to cure the disease of ignorance, and yet only 3% of his actual students are able to get there. How can someone who gets so few of his direct students to a state of enlightenment hope to enlighten the whole universe? If so few students are successfully learning the material of a given class, doesn't that mean the teacher is doing something wrong?Would a better teacher--would a genius, maybe--not be able to impart their knowledge more efficiently and educate even the most challenging of students?

As someone constantly struggling with that balance between keeping academic standards high while also meeting the needs of today's students, I think the passing rates of his courses must affect Dr. Ratio much more deeply than I've seen fans discuss. I think he would question himself harshly over his class success rates, and I think he must be constantly trying to push himself to become the best teacher he possibly can be.

tl;dr: I hope one day the HSR fandom will stop sleeping on the fact that Ratio is an actual practicing professor who probably has astronomical levels of teacher angst. 😂

[sunnymainecoonx]

And errr whatever this guy is