#there’s more i can’t think about but

[ghost-proofbaby]

i’d say i need to write something inspired by the infamous “i love you” “it’ll pass” fleabag scene for eddie but truthfully i think that type of terribly melancholy tends to lace its way into all of my writing anyways

[mumblesplash]

i know it’s like years old at this point but i love that one collab mumbo and grian did with tommyinnit bc it’s like the single most concentrated example i’ve seen of mumbo’s Chaos Nullification Powers

you get to see a bit of it on hermitcraft, mostly via his interactions with grian, but until seeing that collab it didn’t really hit me just how completely mumbo can no-sell other people’s attempts to control a situation. tommyinnit is possibly the single shoutiest, most chaotic minecraft youtuber out there, and in most videos i’ve seen he pretty much overwhelms everyone else and sets the tone for interactions because of this. but mumbo just. doesn’t let him. no matter how much tommy escalates in intensity, mumbo reacts with *exactly* the same energy he always does. grian largely comes across in the whole video as annoyed and reluctant to engage with the whole thing, but mumbo’s not even affected. he just rolls with anything he finds funny and basically ignores anything he disapproves of, only seeming more and more unflappable the harder anyone tries to get a rise out of him.

AND imo, this is the key to my favorite interpretation of him as a character

see, when the people around him are being more reasonable/calm, i think mumbo often comes across as anxious and a bit easily overwhelmed. the thing is, his nervous wet cat vibes do not scale. he has one setting. his responses to the last life ‘ah-ha!’ jokes and to hermitcraft 8 starting to crumble to pieces under a falling moon are almost identical.

mumbo jumbo is inexorably and eternally Just Some Guy, but that gets stranger and stranger the weirder his surroundings become. the giggly incredulousness that makes him an easy target for goofy puns looks Very different when it’s also his reaction to the impending end of the world.

[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.]

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[claudiaeparvier]

[correlie]

[kingkatsuki]

Imagine Dynamight going to a school to be interviewed by the little children there, sitting down in one of the chairs in their classroom that is far too small for his hulking form but he sits down in it without complaint as the kids sit down in front of him with crossed legs.

And he loves it, because they have no filter— just like him, and they end up asking him the most blunt questions without hesitation. And some of the questions he’d never usually answer if they were coming from broadcasters or reporters, but he can’t lie to these kids so he keeps responding openly and honestly.

Even when one of the little girls asks “Mister Dynamight, do you have a girlfriend?”

It’s a rumour that’s been circulating for months as the media try to work out who the mysterious woman is in his life (if there even is one!) and it’s confirmed immediately when Bakugou answers with a, “Yeah, I do.”

And as his PR manager is having a meltdown in the corner, Bakugou’s grin is wide when the little boys in the room sound out a simultaneous chorus of “ewwwwwww”

[marzipanandminutiae]

Of course, the burkini ban is messed up on grounds of religious freedom and racial discrimination. But also

Under any other circumstances, people would be HORRIFIED at a government mandate that women have to show a certain amount of skin. Like. That’s fucking dystopian, and the absolute opposite of feminism. If a government tried to pass a law that all women had to wear tube tops and miniskirts to go outside, people would rightfully be up in arms demanding blood

But because it’s targeting a marginalized religious group, many folks are lauding the blatant forced sexualization of women. Appalling

(apparently the ban also outlaws things like sun – protecting bathing suits if they cover too much skin. Which like. Yes, let’s give everyone skin cancer just so we can spite a religion we’ve decided to hate. Sounds like a good plan </s>)

[river-of-wine]

Death to Dutch van der Linde!

[firehose118]

They go back to Miceli’s for their six month anniversary.

It’s stupid to celebrate something like that, Buck knows, but every day he’s spent with Tommy has felt like a gift. He wants to make up for that first date, when he threw their newly sprouting relationship away the moment he got spooked by someone else knowing about it. By someone knowing about him. He wants to show Tommy how far he’s come. He wants to show Tommy how committed he is.

Buck had made the reservation online two weeks ago. He’d called this morning, as soon as they opened, to see if he could reserve the same table they’d sat at last time.

“We don’t usually reserve specific tables,” the person on the other line had said.

But by the time Buck had finished explaining why, exactly, it was so important for them to sit at this table on this day at this time—sparing no agonizing detail about just how much of an idiot he’d made of himself, and how the first time Tommy kissed him it made Buck understand himself for the first time in his life, so please he really needs to do this for him—the person said they’d see what they could do; their words coming through the speaker with an audible smile.

Buck looks at himself in the mirror while he waits for Tommy to pick him up. He looks so different from the person who stared back at him all those months ago, in a moment just like this, waiting for Tommy to pick him up for their first date. His hair had been shorter, his sideburns longer, his clothes tighter.

He’d been nervous. He’d been so fucking nervous. He’d looked in the mirror and seen someone about to go on a date with a man. He’d seen someone who was struggling with the idea that he liked men, period, and apparently always had. He’d seen someone about to try something he didn’t think should feel as new as it did, and terrified of what it meant. Of how long he hadn’t known he’d wanted it. Of what it meant about himself if he wasn’t comfortable with wanting it. He’d looked in the mirror and seen someone who’d always been an outspoken ally, who was now terrified of someone else looking at him and seeing that he liked men.

But that was April. Now, it’s October. The winds have shifted and the air is cooler and Buck is bisexual. He knows who he is now. He’s not scared of what loving Tommy means anymore.

He takes a steadying breath and checks himself over one more time in the mirror. He’s cleanshaven almost to the top of his ear—just to the spot where Tommy rests his thumb and strokes back and forth when he cups Buck’s cheek while they kiss—and his curls are laying perfectly tonight. There’s a boyishness that’s come back to him with this haircut; a physical lightness that accompanies the joy that Tommy brings him. He looks happy. He looks good.

More than anything, he knows Tommy will think he looks good. Tommy likes his curls, likes him cleanshaven. He likes to pinch his smooth cheeks and pull his hair deliciously and tell him he loves him. Tommy thinks he’s adorable. Miceli’s is the first place he told him as much, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. It still makes Buck’s heart flutter every time Tommy says it.

It’s kind of embarrassing, Buck thinks, how much better he feels about himself now that he’s with Tommy. It’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Part of it is understanding that he’s bi, sure. That’d been an itch he’d been scratching at until he bled for years without figuring out it was there. He’d simply registered it as a baseline discomfort with how he fit into the world. The source of that, once illuminated, felt so obvious and undeniable. The discomfort melted away once he understood the full truth of himself. Once Tommy showed him.

But it’s more than that. It’s not that Tommy is a man: it’s that he’s Tommy. It’s the way Tommy makes Buck feel. His whole life, Buck has felt like he was hard to love. He was too much. He wasn’t enough. He was wrong. He was a failure.

A lot of that was his parents. A lot of it was not understanding why Maddie wouldn’t run away with him. A lot of it was not knowing who he was or what he wanted—and so not knowing how to ask to be loved correctly. It was clinging onto Abby past the relationship’s obvious expiration date. It was Ali leaving him mid-recovery because dating a firefighter was too much. It was trying to start something real with Taylor when they were so much better off as friends-with-occasional-benefits. It was being so certain that Natalia saw him for who he was, and realizing she only saw a three-minute-seventeen-second moment of him. No one wanted to keep him long-term, or if they did they wanted a specific version of him that he couldn’t be.

But Tommy came into his life. He saw Buck at some of his worst moments almost right away, and he still wanted to get to know Buck better. He saw Buck injure Eddie in a fit of jealous rage, and rather than leaving the two of them to deal with whatever that was among themselves, Tommy kissed him. Tommy asked him out. Tommy took him to Miceli’s and opened up about his past. He tried to calm Buck’s nerves. He said it wasn’t Buck’s fault if Buck wasn’t ready for what Tommy wanted from him. He gave Buck a second chance. He saw Buck in full clipboard glory and didn’t bat an eye. He showed up to a hospital wedding in dirty turnouts, exhausted, just because Buck asked him to. He apologized for being late.

He made sure Buck knew he wasn’t too much. He made sure Buck knew he was enough. He looked at every one of Buck’s flaws and faults and told Buck in no uncertain terms that he loved him—not loved him anyway, not loved him in spite of those things, just loved him. Like it was that easy.

And Buck has blossomed with Tommy’s love and attention. It feels dumb to say that about himself, but he has to admit it’s true. Buck feels calmer, more sure of himself than he ever has—not in that cocky 1.0 way, but in a steady, relaxed, stable way. Buck knows who he is now. He doesn’t have anything to prove anymore. He feels settled. At ease.

And so, so grateful for Tommy.

Tommy knocks on the door to the loft before letting himself in. It’s a habit that Buck can’t break him of. He insists it’s polite, so that Buck gets some warning before suddenly there’s someone else in his apartment. Buck thinks that’s sweet, has told him a thousand times that he doesn’t mind when Eddie just appears so why would this be different, but Tommy still does it. It’s gentlemanly. Buck hopes after tonight Tommy will understand just how much Buck wants Tommy to just be in his space.

Buck emerges from the downstairs bathroom just as Tommy is closing the front door.

“Hey,” Tommy says in that sing-song way of his. If Buck were to spell it out, it would have three Ys at least. And a few music notes—just for accuracy.

“Hey,” Buck says back, breathless. “You look… wow.”

Tommy is wearing the same shirt he wore on their first date. The black button-up is a favorite of Buck’s, and Tommy knows it. It makes him look big and broad and soft at the same time. It makes Buck want to snuggle into his chest. It makes Buck want to cancel their reservations.

Other than the shirt, Tommy looks different now than he looked six months ago, too. He’s stopped using quite so much product in his hair—inspired by Buck to also let his curls have a fighting chance—and he just looks… softer. He looks more like he did when Buck asked him to be his date to Maddie’s wedding, or when he came over for dinner after Bobby woke up from his coma. He’s not sharp angles and a harsh haircut. He looks relaxed in the same way that Buck feels. He looks confident in himself not as someone who can get the guy—not as someone impressive—but as someone who has the guy he wants, and who trusts that the guy is happy with him just the way he is.

Buck is happy. He’s very happy.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself,” Tommy says, fitting his hands on the tops of Buck’s hips and rubbing his thumbs back and forth. He smiles as he leans in close. “You got a hot date tonight or something?”

Even six months in, Buck still has such a huge crush on Tommy that he goes a little stupid sometimes. He blushes like this is the first time Tommy has played with him like this.

“Yeah,” Buck says. He wraps his arms around Tommy and squeezes once, just to feel him.“The hottest.” It’s not his best line but it works.

Tommy makes a noise of intrigue and scrunches his nose. “Anyone I know?”

“Probably not. He’s just some guy my brother-in-law knew back in the day.”

Tommy laughs and finally closes the distance between their lips. He kisses Buck soundly, sweetly; letting his love flow from his body into Buck’s. Or at least that’s how it feels.

“You ready to go?” Tommy asks when he pulls back, a sparkle in his eye.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The drive over is peaceful. There’s shockingly little traffic for a Friday night in a touristy part of town, and Tommy holds his hand over the center console the whole time. That’s not unusual: Tommy always does that. What’s unusual is getting a parking spot so quickly on a block so close to the Chinese Theater—it’s why they’d Ubered last time.

Buck won’t jinx it by saying it feels like a sign. So he doesn’t say it.

Miceli’s held their table. Buck won’t say that feels like a sign either.

They order the same veggie pizza and salad as last time, but instead of the same pitcher of light beer, they order wine. Unlike on their first date, Tommy isn’t afraid to come off as a beer snob anymore. Buck already knows he is.

“Can I be honest, Evan?” Tommy says when Buck suggests a full recreation of their first meal; beer pitchers and all. “The worst part of that date wasn’t you no-homoing me in front of Eddie. It was that beer.”

Their conversation over dinner is more normal than Buck expected for an anniversary. It’s nice, relaxing. It feels natural. Tommy tells him about the high rise rescue he did today—run of the mill stuff, really, he insists it’s not that cool—and Buck tells him about the history of winemaking in Sicily, and how the volcanic soil adds a different flavor to the grapes that grow in it, and Mt Etna smokes all the time but people still live near it, and millions of people also still live in the shadow of Mt Vesuvius, and how pizza was first created in Naples, and did you know that margherita pizza isn’t really called that because Queen Margherita liked it even though that’s what people say and that actually the story was made up like fifty years after she allegedly went to Naples and tried it, so it’s just a marketing ploy?

Tommy didn’t know that—any of that—but he looks so fond as Buck tells him that Buck finally works up the nerve to ask him the thing he brought Tommy here to ask.

“So,” Buck says, once they’ve had two slices each. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and I figured this would be the best place to do it.”

He wasn’t nervous before, but he’s nervous now. He thinks he knows what the answer will be, but he’s never done this for the right reasons before. He doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s moving too fast. They haven’t been dating long, but it’s been so transformative. Buck is sure he wants this.

Tommy looks at him with mild concern, so he must look as nervous as he feels. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes!” Buck says, eyes going wide. He reaches across the table to hold Tommy’s hand. “Yes, everything is- is great, sorry. That’s what I wanted to ask you about. These last six months have been amazing. You’ve been amazing. Sometimes I still can’t believe- like I wake up next to you in the morning and I can’t believe it’s real. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to- to- for you to want me in your space like that. So I’ve been thinking, um, well, I-I’ve been wondering. What- what do you think about- I mean, I know it’s too soon, maybe, but it feels right and I- I’ve never really done this right in the past, and this is a-actually the longest I’ve taken to do this with someone, so maybe that’s a good sign? You don’t think it’s too soon, do you? It’s just that my lease is up soon and I- I have to make a decision and I just thought, well, it might be nice to officially- but if you’re worried about the- the commute for me, since you’re pretty far from the 118, I- I thought about that, and it’s not like I don’t do that a few times a week now anyway. I think it’s worth it.”

Tommy just looks at Buck with a small, patient, excited smile. “What are you asking me, Evan?” Tommy looks like he already knows, but he won’t do the work for Buck. He’s gonna make him ask.

“Right, uh, I guess I didn’t… W-what would you say- um, I mean, would you want to- can I- because obviously it would be me who would- fuck, sorry, let me just…”

This isn’t even The Big Question and Buck can’t get it out. There’s too much going on in his head, too much backstory and too many possible arguments against it that he’s trying to head off because he wants this so badly.

“Do I make you nervous or is it this place?” Tommy laughs. It’s not a mean laugh, he’s not laughing at Buck. He seems charmed by the spluttering. Adorable. “I haven’t seen you like this in months. It’s okay, baby. Ask me.”

Buck takes a breath. “Let me start over-“

“Evan.”

The music is back in Tommy’s voice. The way he says Buck’s given name makes it sound like a term of endearment; how he holds out the final syllable and doesn’t let it go until he has to. Most people go down on that last N sound, like a frown. Tommy goes up, like it makes him smile just to have the sounds in his mouth.

He’s looking at Buck like Buck is something worth looking at. He’s holding Buck’s hand like Buck is something worth holding onto. And he’s smiling at Buck like Buck is something that brings him joy.

It makes Buck smile in return. It gives him confidence. Tommy makes him nervous, but he also settles all the noise that buzzes around in Buck’s head. He helps Buck see the clear path forward, just by being there. Just by being steady.

“Tommy,” Buck starts. He squeezes Tommy’s hand in his, on top of the table for everyone to see. “Do you want to move in together?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart.” Tommy smiles so wide his eyes crinkle and, god, those eye crinkles are just barely below his cleft on the list of things Buck loves about Tommy’s face.

“Yeah?” Buck is beaming.

“Honestly, you beat me to the punch. I was gonna ask you to move in over dessert,” Tommy says. He squeezes Buck’s hand. “I love you. I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you. Of course I want to live with you.”

Tommy was going to ask Buck to move in. Tommy wants Buck to live with him. Tommy wants Buck. Tommy wants to keep him.

Buck is standing up and bumping the table before he realizes what he’s doing. Their wine spills, the last of their pizza falls from its elevated rack onto the table next to them, and Buck couldn’t care less about any of it. He’s kissing Tommy right there, both hands on Tommy’s handsome face, in the same restaurant where he pretended they weren’t on a date, at the same table where he said some of the most embarrassing things he’s ever said, and he’s never in his life been more thrilled to return to a place he made a fool of himself in.

“People are looking at us, Evan,” Tommy says, pulling back as far as Buck will let him.

“I don’t care. I love you.” Buck kisses him again.

But he’s still a person with a sense of decency, so once the rush of Tommy wants me Tommy loves me Tommy wants to keep me close wears off, Buck pulls back from Tommy’s mouth and apologizes to the table next to them—the unintended casualties of their toppled dinner. Still worth it.

They clean up as much of the mess as they can. Neither of them stop smiling.

A piece of tiramisu comes to their table not long after, with the word Congratulations! and a picture of two rings drawn on the plate in chocolate sauce.

“Oh,” Tommy says. “They must have thought we got engaged.”

“Yeah,” Buck laughs. “I guess most people would only have that kind of reaction to something that big.”

“Then they don’t know you very well,” Tommy smiles.

You do, though, Buck thinks. You know me better than I know myself. You saw me for who I am—not who I thought I was—and you brought that to the surface so gently, so easily. You let me finally get to know myself. After searching so hard and so desperately by myself all these years, all you had to do was kiss me, and I knew myself. I’ve never looked in the mirror and truly seen myself there, but now I do. Because of you.

Filled to the brim with love and joy and excitement for the next chapter of his life, Buck smiles back.

“Well,” he says, gesturing at the tiramisu. “Mistaken free dessert?”

And Tommy, in his patented cool, confident way, says, “Premature free dessert,” and takes a bite.

Six months later, when Tommy asks if he wants to go to Miceli’s, Buck pretends not to know what Tommy is going to ask him. He just smiles and says yes.

{now on ao3}

[cherries-and-knives]

Another one of the Peeta moments that rot in my brain constantly is the scene in catching fire when Katniss and Finnick get stuck with the Jabberjays.

Peeta had his hands pressed against the force field, trying so so hard to be there for her and wanting so badly to protect her. And when it finally ended he held her, and rocked her, and let her hide her face in his arms, and protected her for as long as she needed him to and…..that’s just so ughhhh….so heartbreakingly sweet.

[paperglader]

they really put alicent in bridgerton blue on the reunion and genuinely expected me to think that she didn’t in fact march all the way to dragonstone to get wifed up? bfr

[peachsayshi]

thinking about my faves in a royal au scenario & I thought of prince satoru who sneaks out into the town, disguises himself as a commoner. who grows deeply infatuated with the tavern girl (who doesn’t favor the prince) and lives a double life.

night after night, he swears he’ll come clean, swears that he’ll reveal his true self. that your prior opinions won’t matter because you know the real him. you see the real him.

he promises himself when he makes love to you for the first time, when his limbs are intertwined into yours as your hearts beat in sync.tomorrow, he thinks when he cradles you in his arms. tomorrow.

because who wouldn’t want to be loved by a prince?

except the guards show up and raid your quaint quarters the morning after. swords drawn as you fumble to cover yourself with a sheet. it’s only when satoru commands them to stand down do they listen, but he’s terrified to turn around and see what expression you have on your pretty face.

[maddymoreau]

Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.

When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”

Diavolo responds:

“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.

Along with how Diavolo describe his father.

It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.

Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.

Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.

His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.

The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.

Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.

[turtleblogatlast]

Something about this kind of swimming getup for characters always immediately gives me transmasc vibes. Blue swim trunks and a tank top? Sorry man my brain already connected the dots. The vibes are there, and they’re not leaving.

[vellichorsdesire]

your f/o(s) noticing you feel / think badly about yourself, proceeding taking your hands in theirs, scooting a little closer and mumbling sweetly about all the things they so love about you.