#maybe this is a thing now???

[twinklyylights]

Ian stops in his tracks at the sound of Mickey’s voice. He pops his head into the doorway of their bedroom, where Mickey’s been for the last 45 minutes.

“Huh?”

Mickey pauses the YouTube video that’s playing on his phone. He looks up and smiles at his husband.

“’Said come in here with me. What are you doing out there anyway?”

Ian shrugs.

“Finished my book, put the dishes away from last night,” he lists off. “Nothing really.”

“Good. Come here.”

Ian listens to that. He joins Mickey on the bed and settles in for what he already knows is a compilation of prank videos.

“Comfortable?” Mickey checks, looking down.

“Very.”

The video he’s watching cuts then, and a Walmart ad takes over the screen in front of them. Mickey rolls his eyes at the unnecessary interruption, but Ian doesn’t mind it. He’d rather talk to Mickey, anyway.

“Your birthday is coming up,” he says softly. “’Gonna be thirty.”

“Yeah,” Mickey replies easily. “Thirty,” he repeats, mystified by how nicely it rolls off of his tongue.

The video starts up again, but Ian pays it no mind and continues to use the time to pick at his husband’s brain.

“How do you feel about it?”

Mickey doesn’t answer that immediately. Instead, he waits until he sees the end of a jumpscare, and then he locks his phone and turns his eyes toward the ceiling. He lets out a breath, but it isn’t heavy in his chest.

“Honestly? I’m pretty fucking excited.”

Ian grins. He presses a kiss to the side of Mickey’s face, and lets his lips rest against the stubble there for a moment just to breathe Mickey in.

“Looking forward to anything specific?”

Mickey thinks on that silently. Lately, it’s been hard to find the words for all the positive feelings swirling around in chest. The ability to even have so many was never something he ever saw for himself.

“I guess just being able to look forward to shit, you know?”

And Ian knows what Mickey means by that. He feels his husband’s words.

“The suns finally out.”

Mickey smiles.

“The suns finally out,” he agrees.

A comfortable silence falls over them after that. This time, Ian isn’t the one to disrupt it. He startles a bit when Mickey speaks.

“What are you getting me, anyway?” He wonders out loud, doing his best to maintain indifference in his voice. Even though, all he wants to do is laugh.

Ian snorts. He pinches at Mickey’s belly, and it makes him squirm.

“I am not telling you.”

“Oh C’mon, man,” Mickey argues, “I’m entering a whole new decade. Beating all the fucking odds, I can’t a get a little hint?”

“Nope. Just gotta trust me.”

Mickey turns his face then; he meets Ian’s eyes.

“I can do that,” he promises sincerely.

And sure, Ian’s talking about the gift he won’t reveal, but Mickey’s thinking far past that.

Because he trusts Ian with everything.

He trusts Ian with 30. With 40. With 50 and the salt and pepper hair he knows he’ll be sporting.

He trusts Ian with all his birthdays.

With all his years.

[christadeguchi]

"we know how to move our bodies, but i didn't know how to manage my heart, so you need help for this"

hi we need to talk more about judo gold medallist christa deguchi.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[maxgicalgirl]

Being a “Fun Fact !” kind of autistic is all fun and games until you get halfway through sharing an interesting tidbit and realize that it probably wasn’t appropriate to share in polite company and now you have to deal with the consequences :(

[some-kind-of-creature]

It wasn’t supposed to be a secret.

If you died while with the league, you will no longer be acknowledged to have existed, especially if you died during a mission. A disappointment will not be remembered.

The bats and birds don’t like speaking about the people they have lost, so they don’t. If someone ask about the dead, they will tell the person they don’t talk about that.

So how was Damian supposed to know that he should have told his father about his dead brother?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Soup solves everything.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~

[ikiprian]

Mr. Fenton is a competent teacher. Almost too competent.

If Mr. Daniel Fenton had any more than a BS (with a minor in education), Tim would’ve flagged his profile as a potential Rogue. That’s the way of most charismatic academics, at least in Gotham. (Got a PhD? Instant watchlist.) Instead, he’s Gotham Academy’s newest celebrity, as a young, passionate, out-of-towner substitute while the chemistry teacher’s on maternity leave.

Tim gets the hype. Fenton seems to genuinely love teaching, and is invested in the welfare of the student body. He hands out bananas during exam week, hosts a “study habits seminar” each month to coach effective learning strategies, and the third time Tim falls asleep in his class, he even pulls Tim aside to ask if he’s doing okay. With all the late work he accepts and the protein bars he sneaks Tim, he’s every teen vigilante’s dream teacher. He could’ve been Tim’s favorite.

In fact, Mr. Fenton was Tim’s favorite. Up until Tim walks into Mr. Fenton’s chemistry classroom for a forgotten textbook, an hour after the final bell.

On the board where tallied scores for today’s review game had been kept, “THE CHEMISTRY BEHIND DR. CRANE’S FEAR GAS: ANXIOGENICS, NERI’S, & YOU,” is now scrawled. A detailed diagram of the human endocrine system projects in front of a small crowd of adoring and attentive students.

Fenton is wrist-deep in the skull cavity of an anatomical model. A short tug, and out pops the brain.

It’s plastic. It’s fake.

Tim identifies the nearest emergency exit.

Fenton turns to the door, and in the dark classroom with the projector illuminating half his face, his eyes almost seem to flash red. “What’s up, Tim?” he asks. His friendly grin is too big for his face. “I didn’t know you wanted to join the Just Science League!”

[OR: Danny’s a science teacher at Tim’s school. Gotham’s a pretty wild place, even for someone who grew up a superhero in a ghost-infested town, so he takes it upon himself to start a club teaching kids how to manage themselves in the event of a crisis. These Gothamites are pretty hardy, but a little extra training never hurt anybody! And he suspects one of his students might be a teen vigilante, like he’d been, back in the day. As a senior super, it's Danny’s duty look out for him! Surely, this is the subtlest and most appropriate way to give the kid pointers.]

[Tim immediately assumes supervillain.]

[hinamie]

shhhh

[wasyago]

various tango doodles

[percycoolguy]

onion skin!

fun gif under cut

now you get to pretend that ur flipping through the frames

[lazylittledragon]

look gang i know the cishets are going to be annoying about chappell roan like they are with every popular queer artist but we CAN'T gatekeep, because think about how much it would've meant to your little queer self to hear songs about girls kissing girls being played on the radio every single day

[moodyseal]

I was poking fun at how unexpectedly silly the CHB kids looked in armour in the first two episodes of the PJO show (acting like an almighty army and all) and then it hit me. This is exactly how some of them will look like when they will be dying in the final battle. Silly. Tiny. Literal children

[xxplastic-cubexx]

throws these at you

[bookshelfdreams]

yk when you see someone share a finished handmade item that they clearly spent a lot of time and money on and it's just. The absolute tackiest thing you have seen in your life. And then you ask yourself why someone would waste all those resources on such an eyesore.

(no, of course you can't relate to that because you're a much nicer person than me)

In any case.

BEHOLD!

A wool coat!

The top fabric is handwoven and handspun, the whole thing is sewn by hand, too.

Leftovers. Barely anything, all things considered, which is very satisfying.

This thing took me well over 3 years to make, on and off. And now I'm done.

Thank you for your attention.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

truly this one's just for me. I can do what I want foreverrr