#the guy was sort of awkward

[deadpoets]

GILMORE GIRLS 04.03 | The Hobbit, the Sofa, and Digger Stiles

[frootbyethefoot]

hm. the fact that ford dreams about being famous and becoming this household name in the scientific community while also uh. not being very good at social interaction is soo fascinating to me. which further backs up my belief that it's not rlly about being famous, it's about the praise, it's about feeling like he's proven himself as "more than a freak" its about going "see! i am a productive member of society! i'm more than a freak and i'm more than my circumstances! i'm worth something!"

because let's be real here, i don't think ford "local recluse who was so isolated from the town he lived in that nobody noticed when his brother came in and took over his identity" pines would've even liked being famous very much! do you really think this guy would like being under a magnifying glass? i think he would just be really overwhelmed 24/7.

it makes me wonder how better world ford deals with it. he's still in contact with fiddleford in that dimension, does he leave a lot of the social stuff up to him? i mean, fiddleford managed to start a cult, so he could probably do it if he wanted too, but even then i don't think he'd be fully comfortable with it. is he a very private and isolated famous person? or does ford do it himself? how does he feel about it? i have a million questions about the better world dimension, it's so endlessly interesting to me. god what i would give to see what better world ford is up too.

[bericas]

isaac & scott / mason & theo | sometimes all i think about is you

[moeblob]

(throws them into a modern AU)

So since Ymber wouldn't be a deity there are some things he lacks physically - such as no pointed ears and no bright blue undertones to his hair. Just the basic blue. (does he dye it in a modern AU ? who knows) Also while he doesn't have a collar to symbolize his servitude to humans I still think he should have a choker.

I had some help a while back brainstorming how there would be some form of "superior" dynamic could still exist and I really liked the idea given that he's a famous architect. (he does design all constructs for his city as a deity so it checks out - he likes buildings) And Deacon just admires all the guy's works and never expects to run into him but of course they do! Gotta have a very awkward "oh it's you I'm going to melt into the earth" and "I have no idea who you are but we should hang out".

Sooo Deacon still just really admires Ymber and feels like they're on totally different levels and doesn't understand why Ymber would want to associate with him since he's just a "boring human".

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Hc that eventually Atsushi asks Kunikida and Tanizaki about possibly going to school. He knows he didn’t get the best of education in the orphanage but he loves to read and wants to do a little bit more with his life than just the agency. So they pull some strings and help get him set up. Maybe some summer classes to get him where he needs to be, but then in the fall he’s like Naomi and Junichiro and moves to part time at the agency while taking actual classes. I think he’d like that.

[shaykai]

As someone who has maybe been poking at the idea of a Durgetash Tether AU fic (which is to say I write a few paragraphs and am still debating its existence) what should the actual thing tethering them together be?

Personally, I’m leaning towards jewelry- mostly debating between necklaces or bracelets, but I’m open to hearing other thoughts

[add1ctedt0you]

One of my unpopular opinion is that we have been robbed of jiang cheng and jin zixuan' friendship

[quuma]

“SILENCE SPEAKS THE LOUDEST”

[not proof read - just forewarning you LOL goodluck,, there's likely many mispellings and inconsistencies in structure and past/present tense]

“silence speaks the loudest.”

a phrase that the boy had never fully understood. how could the lack of noise ever make comment? ever express itself? [he was never one to enjoy symbolism – preferring the objectiveness of facts. unfortunately, symbolism was something he needed to know for his final assessments. when one does not understand, they can do nothing but learn. alas, he had to try.]

sitting together in the common room one late night, air weighed down by the pressure of the upcoming O.W.L.s - silent, still; thinking. him, gaze fixed straight ahead, enraptured by the glowing fire in front of him, parchment and quill long abandoned and spilling in waves onto the cold floor below. [his hand aches, as does his head. unintelligible words bounce around, vaguely connecting to others before disappearing. he can’t remember anything he’s read in the past 2 hours.] you, tucked away in a corner, scribbled work illuminated only by a curtain of reflected moonlight creeping through the alcove windows and the lone candle melting above. drip, drip. the flame almost tickles the end of the wick – forewarning of the late hour. but neither of you make any sudden movement that suggests the intention of leaving anytime soon.

the room had once been full, bustling with frazzled teenagers and their shared confusion. shouts of questions juxtaposing aggressive hushes for silence. his friends had once been there too, now long retired to the comforting confines of their bedsheets. he cannot help but be jealous. [but a small part of him is guiltily glad to be away from them. don’t get him wrong, he loves his friends and fellow housemates, but sometimes he just needs space.]

seconds pass. minutes pass. wax drips to the floor one final time, announcing light’s departure. his eyelids struggle to remain open - fighting a losing battle - but his hands are still. his gaze is finally torn from the hypnotic fire, lethargically flicking around in a half-hearted attempt at waking himself of the enticing trance that orange light brings. they eventually reach you. you, now staring back at him.

the two of you had never been particularly close. it was no personal slight against one another, of course. you were friends of friends - skirting the edges of one another’s social groups, but never each other. there was simply no need to. no magical spark, no unexplainable invisible might bringing you together, no forced proximity in classes – he didn’t think he’d ever even accidently locked eyes with you before this.

silence. a heavy sigh escaped a pair of lips [he couldn’t tell if it had been yours or his, mind too fuzzy from hours of memorising equations, wand movements, and literary techniques.]

no words passed through that night air, but the message was still clear.

you looked away. so did he. movement ensued once more; quills flicking lethargically, eyes hesitantly blinking, the crackle of the fire filling the air.

silence, silence.

time had continued to run its course.

the night (or morning, as the faint light of dawn had replaced the moonlight) had ended with you suddenly rising from your chair, startling the boy from the half-asleep daze he hadn’t even realised he had slipped in to. upon realising that you were leaving, he too clumsily collected his things and stood. by the time he was done (which, admittedly, took an embarrassingly long amount of time. but who could blame him? he was attempting to function off less than an hour’s worth of half-conscious sleep) you were long gone. the sound of the common room door thumping gently behind you, paired with your fading tip-toed footsteps were all that reached him.

in the hours, days, months after that moment of eye contact, that moment of mutual understanding, nothing eventful followed. there were no sudden deep discussions, there were no shared inside jokes – but there was that passing moment. there was that presence. there was that tranquillity. there was that shared struggle of staying awake. there was the recognition of unspoken words; “i’m glad was not alone. i’m glad it was you. no expectations, no forced discussion, no preconceived notions. just two people, sitting, experiencing; living. normal, together. thank you.”

no words ever of acknowledgment of that moment ever cross either of your lips – no one admits the comfort of that silent scene. [but there are now locked gazes. there are now small smiles shared. there is now proximity. the social circles you two skirted are now closer, closing in on one another.]

but you both know. you know, he knows.

he thinks he understands now.

[cheezyharu]

AMAZING MIGHTYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!

Ehem, anyways...

[unproduciblesmackdown]

au where when jared tells evan that was like the exact formula for secret gay high school lovers evan is like oh my god i can't undo that with a deft [no homo] & jared is like i can do evasively deniable gay subtext....there's a reason i was the only cit with keycard access to the (what's Gay in Camp....) computer cluster this summer (heteronormativity retired!)

[crushedsweets]

Sometimes I see the way in which an artist draws Toby and i have to melt and cry and lose my mind and try to be sane for the sake of not grinding my teeth to shards

[cosmicheartz]

Since I’m on a Clem kick rn I wanna say that I have a sorta graph in my head on what would be the healthiest romantic ship for him and what would be the worst for him

Anyways him x Quentin is the healthiest and him x Nils is the worst

[deadandphilgames]

oversharing in the tags time :)

[redpandarambles]

Hi, yes, I know you would rather that I make myself small, give into the fear, internalise the hateful rhetoric and disappear.

But you see I promised my younger self I'd be the person they needed when they were growing up, and I really hate to break a promise.

So despite the fear and the internalised hateful rhetoric, I'm not going to disappear. I owe it to my younger self not to.

And I care more about him than I do about your hate.

[thecherubprince]

what if theres like a star-crossed lovers opposite. just two characters that are uncomfortable or hate each other and are literally bound by the universe and end up in the most crazy romantic situations. all the time. with no end. (accidentally kissing, touching hands, slipping up in wording or getting crammed into tight spaces)

[i-could-be-so-much-more]

It frustrates me to no end that everyone I talk to someone new my brain catastrophises to the point where even though I know logically it’s fine, and normal, and fun, I end up making it a bigger deal in my head that I know it is…I think myself into spirals that the logical part of my brain knows are ridiculous and dramatic and improbable, which stress me out more than is entirely necessary…it’s so tiring to exist and participate in the social world sometimes