#the things you do for your besties

[albonium]

.

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[yohankang]

Later on, the hot topic at the office was how Manager had proposed to me that morning.

(Atarashii Joushi wa Do Tennen, ep. 3)

[monsteraficionado]

"I'm gonna jump in that pool by the end of this season"

Santas Gone Wild: Too Many Spirits

[upperranktwo]

☆Tomura Shigaraki☆

Happy Birthday Adrienne ♡ @tenkoushimura​

[keldabekush]

uhh rex and 42 if you want

[CAPTAIN REX would like it noted on record that this was not what he agreed to when he said he would babysit COMMANDER TANO.]

[COMMANDER TANO would like it noted on record that CAPTAIN REX was the one who suggested they attend this concert.]

[COMMANDER TANO would like it further noted that CAPTAIN REX seemed to know an awful lot of lyrics for someone who, quote, doesn’t like music for sulky adolescents, unquote.]

[CAPTAIN REX requests previous comment be expunged from the record. He additionally requests that COMMANDER TANO be noted as a Liar and a Snitch.]

Ashoka and Rex see Space Three Days Grace on coruscant and they wear so much clip on jewellery. She just ended up in the sketch somehow

[maedhrus]

"Although perhaps, we shall never be [...] intimate friends [...], still I would not wish a better." (x)

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

community that has only seen themselves represented in a small handful of romance stories that aren’t explicitly about their real-world oppression, watching a new show or movie where they are represented in a romantic story that isn’t explicitly about their real-world oppression: getting a lot of “that other show with a queer romance that isn’t explicitly about real-world homophobia” vibes from this

[nadiasna7]

Once the childhood will be over After all it cannot stay Children turning into grown-ups, Each will soon fly their own way But today we are still little Growing taller bit by bit Just the heavens, just the air, Just the happiness is there Eng translation of this song

So I started writing a fic about these two throughout the years, and then I drew this. This isn't exactly a companion piece bc they're a bit older here than in the pre-canon chapter of the fic, but it still counts because the vibes are the same.

Here's the fic, btw.

[comixandco]

cleo sertori had a fear of swimming since she was a child and nobody considered for a second that getting stranded on a boat in the middle of the sea then falling into a cave system where she had to swim through subterranean water tunnels to the ocean where she had to tread water until a s&r team found them would be traumatic and exacerbate her fear into full aquaphobia

secretly becoming a mermaid helped her get over her fear but to everybody else her being cagey about the pool party and washing the dishes makes 100% sense when they stop for a moment and consider she’s probably terrified

[theghoulboysblog]

The part in this week’s pod watcher where Shane says “I outta knock your teeth out.” And they proceeded to laugh hysterically. They both know it doesn’t mean anything, all jokes but also, it’s because Shane is like the least intimidating person ever 😂

thank you for bringing this up anon cause it’s something i find apsolutely lovely about them! though shane and ryan joke, it is so clear that they trust each other so fully and understand that the other would never hurt them 😭💛

the way they burst out laughing cause they both know that the mere idea of shane, gentle giant, least intimidating man alive, hurting anyone, but even more so ryan, is so insanely comical! he couldn’t seem intimidating even if he tried 😭🙏

it actually brings me back to this buzzfeed unsolved postmortem where shane threatens to punch ryan and fakes him out TWICE and ryan doesn’t even slightly flinch. shane is shocked and is like “he… he didn’t flinch???” but like ofc he didn’t flinch 😭 he knows shane, “the man he would trust holding his newborn and the ONLY person he would trust to rob a bank with him” knows shane would literally never hit him 😭💛

and i mean the proof is in the pudding, cause this is the way shane reacted when he accidentally hit ryan’s finger! he was playing angry and being jokingly annoyed with ryan before this, so he stamped ryan’s passport hard, and he accidentally smacked ryan’s finger with the stamp! he immediately dropped his angry facade and was like “shit are you okay!?!”

like oh shane you sweet soft man. i’m sorry but we ALL know how much you love ryan and how desperate you are to keep him safe and healthy 😭🙏 nobody is intimidated by you dude 😔🙏

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 3)

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Can you tell my ADHD brain has no sense of time? I was fully like 'oh yeah it's been a week' and it's actually been 3, I am so sorry. Thank you to everyone following this series; it is complete so I swear you will get the full story! (Also shoutout to @glorified-red for body doubling w/ me and being overall amazing; I appreciate you.)

Previous chapters linked here and here.

wc: ~1050

warnings: mentions of non-graphic injury

~~

Damian’s bicep throbbed and he switched his rolling carry-on to his other hand. He’d disinfected, stitched, and wrapped the bullet graze, but that was hours ago now and he hadn’t kept any painkillers in his backpack. Even if they weren’t in his carry-on, he wouldn’t have pulled them out on the plane. As much as he’d learned about the stranger he and Jon were sitting with, he didn’t trust you enough for that. 

Jon’s carry-on bag was loud, wheels clattering against the floor and echoing in the mostly empty airport. It was a small bag and a cheap one, bought mostly for appearances and convenience. Damian’s, on the other hand, was from a safe house 90 minutes away from the airport. It was the only reason he hadn’t been stopped at security with Batman WE technology in the hidden compartment. Jon’s suit—sans the belt in Damian’s suitcase—got through security with no problems. 

He may not trust them farther than Jon could presently throw them, but Damian could at least admit that the stranger on the plane was an unexpected boon. With Jon already on edge from the solar flare and subsequent stranding and Damian himself running on not enough sleep and an even smaller social battery, having a gruff, immoveable asshole in between them would have made the flight more torturous than it was destined to be. With these delays, even more so. A childish part of Damian wanted to call Richard back and say that they did need a pick-up, actually. Some combination of pride and exhaustion stopped him. A few steps ahead, Jon’s laugh rang out, joined quickly by a laugh made familiar by only the last few hours. 

Fine so it was pride, exhaustion, and seeing Jon happy. Sue him. 

While Jon followed your—yes he knew your name, he just didn’t know you enough to use it yet—guidance through the airport, Damian watched the signs. The literal ones and the body language ones. Nothing on the plane ride had given him reason to think the stranger meant any harm, but Damian was raised with extreme paranoia on all sides of his family. Jon was his family too, though, and with his super senses compromised, Damian’s instinct would have to do. 

“Okay so since this is a shuttle, I think it’s this door.” Damian looked up at the sign you were pointing to. Zone 8, it read, Airport Shuttles. Jon shrugged.

“Looks right.”

He took the lead this time and you followed. Damian stayed behind, eyes catching on your backpack. You don’t have clothes with you, he remembered. By the looks of it, you didn’t have much with you at all. 

There was a shuttle leaving by the time the three of you reached the platform. 

“Excuse me,” you asked a woman standing nearby. Damian vaguely recognized her from the boarding line. “Are you here for the hotel shuttles?” The woman turned around, launching into a tirade.

Damian took the distraction for a chance to talk to Jon. 

“No change right?” Jon shook his head, hands rubbing up and down his arms. 

“None. I didn’t really expect any this early. Maybe tomorrow if I’m lucky? Or the day after.” 

Damian swung his backpack off of his shoulder to pull his jacket off. 

“You’re not regulating temperature properly—” 

Jon’s hand on his arm stopped him. 

“Your arm.” Damian cursed under his breath and pulled the jacket back on. 

“How long’s it been since you changed that?” Jon asked. 

“I’ll change it at the hotel, it’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” 

In the corner of his eye, Damian watched you extricate yourself from the tirade. 

“You’re not one to talk, currently,” he said. “It’s barely chilly out and you’re shivering.” Jon’s response was curtailed by your return. 

“Oh but the Metropolis folks aren’t built for this kind of weather, don’t you know? It’s clear skies with a chance of red cape sightings over there.” Your own jacket was still on, though unzipped. 

A snort of laughter escaped Damian before he could hold it back. Damian blamed it on the fatigue. He blamed the spark of gratification he got when you delighted in his reaction on that too. Jon rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, very funny.”

Your eyes locked onto something behind Jon and Damian tracked your gaze to the shuttle. Jon took a step back as it parked right beside him. 

“Bluiett, Archanza, Helioz!” Yelled the driver. 

Jon extended his arm, ushering you inside. 

“After you.” 

“Thanks.” 

Damian clambered on after Jon. He’d taken a seat across from you. Damian sat next to him. 

The shuttle ride was, for the most part, quiet until the first stop. 

“I don’t have any pajamas,” you lamented, head dropping back against the window behind you. “Or toiletries.” 

Damian wasn’t sure if you were expecting an answer, even if he did know what to say. Jon’s eyebrows wrinkled. Damian thought his thinking face was adorable. Jon thought it was embarrassing.

“You can borrow something of mine if you want?” Jon offered. Damian held back a smile. Jon had very little clothes-wise in his carry on—just sweatpants, an extra set of jeans, a t-shirt or two, and underwear. And a Superman suit. But still, he offered. You smiled awkwardly, eyes dipping down to where your own backpack rested on your lap. 

“Um, no I’m good. But thanks.” 

Damian’s eyes tracked your face. For the first time all evening, he found what he was looking for. You didn’t quite trust them either, not yet. You were wary of them. Not afraid, not like you were when you got on the plane, but wary. Jon and he were strangers and you knew it. 

“Even hotels as bad as these should provide some sort of soap,” Damian offered. 

For the first time all night, your hopeful smile was directed at him. 

“Yeah, I forgot about that, thanks.” The relief in your voice told him you were being genuine. Damian nodded in return, giving into the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I think I’m taking sleep over a shower anyway,” Jon added. 

“Easy for you to say when there’s options,” you teased back at him. Damian might not have laughed the way Jon did, but he cracked a smile nonetheless.When the three of you parted in the hotel elevator—you on your own on the second floor and he and Jon together on the third—Damian might not have known everything there was to know about you, but his instincts whispered trust. Good enough for him.

[burnthatbridge]

illicit affairs

buddie | E | chapter 1 of 8(ish) | 3k | just a boy helping his boy bestie figure out gay sex, with a side of infidelity This is how it starts: Buck goes on a date with Tommy. How it goes from there, Eddie can't even begin to explain.

Chapter 1: born from just one single glance

It’s in the aftermath, when Bobby and Athena are safe and being checked over and the 118 plus family and friends is piled in the waiting room as usual — they all have their preferred chairs with how often they’re here — that Eddie’s unfocused mild interest in this new guy who his friends trust, turns to sharp notice. 

Eddie has to step away to call Carla, to let her know they got Athena and Bobby, to assure her that he’s fine, Buck’s fine, they’re all fine. And then he spares an extra moment to text Marisol because he knows she’ll see the news soon, if she hasn’t already, and will worry.

After, when he returns to the waiting room, Tommy’s in his seat. Eddie doesn’t really have a specific one he favors so much as he always takes one next to Buck. So, it follows that, Tommy is now sitting beside Buck. 

When Eddie left, Buck’d been pale-faced, and shaky in a way he wasn’t when Bobby was missing and he had a goal to focus on. Eddie hadn’t wanted to leave him, but it was Buck who’d said didn’t he need to call Carla? Let Chris know they’re okay?

Eddie pauses across the room and regards the scene before him. Tommy is leaned in, chatting to Buck, making wide, expressive gestures with his hands as he does. Buck’s still more grey than pink in the cheeks and one hand is clutching the arm of his chair, but he’s stopped picking at the patch of peeling paint he’s about tripled in size over their past handful of waiting room residences and there’s a hint of a smile curling the side of his mouth, which had been a grim line before, waiting for the doctor to report back on Bobby and Athena, waiting to be allowed to see them. 

“He’s in good hands.”

Eddie starts at Hen’s words. She appears from behind him carrying two paper cups of what Eddie understands from experience is the worst coffee known to man. He used to force it down because caffeine is caffeine, but he can’t anymore. It reminds him too much of the three minutes and seventeen seconds that were some of the worst of his life.

read on ao3

[tetzoro]

gentle reminder for those who need it ᰔ

source

[mamawasatesttube]

thinking about them (the tim kon bart trio)... they are a set, do not separate. they're aosbcart (assigned "one shared brain cell" at red tornado). they love each other. their hijinks are legendary. there's something wrong with each of them but their issues align with each other's. they invented humor as a love language

[imthursdaysyme]

Sleepover shenanigans