#this ship has consumed me

[hansoeii]

and they were lab partners

[slasherdreamerbored]

“You don’t get it at all.”

Another thing inspired by Say Nothing by @thunderwhenhepurrs and @katzenprinz because it's just that good

[nightmarerose1]

💥🧡BAKUTOKO CRUMBS Pt 2🖤🐦‍⬛

💥[Part 1,Part 3,]🐦‍⬛

[quilledink]

if people thought they’d seen the worst of clipboard!buck in all the years of working with him, they were not prepared for the pre-wedding micromanaging soon-to-be buckley-diaz that hits them.

they knew of course, that he’d plan meticulously for it and they would have to deal with some extent of clipboards and spread sheets and long meetings with pre-written minutes—but if there is one thing evan buckley is always known to do, it’s exceed expectations.

he’s been dubbed captain buck for the meantime with how he orders them around, and surely the way it stresses buck out calls for concern from all of them. he’s walking into work with eye bags, a constant jug of coffee he keeps chugging, squeezing wedding talk into any off time they get—there is much contemplation to just physically restrain the guy and get him to rest both for their sake and his own. not much eases him either, no amount of talks about how it’ll be perfect regardless because he’s marrying the person he absolutely adores, who adores him right back in equal certitude. it just has to be perfect.

and it seems to be when the day arrives, the way things can only be when planned with so much attention to detail—except their suits are shades off the color they picked and so are the flowers—whichever sets made it because one side of their venue remains completely undecorated, the cake is melting by the time it arrives and the ceremony hasn’t even started, and there’s just been a call saying there might be a delay in the food arriving to the venue.

it’s a loose thread on buck’s tie that ends up undoing him, which is how maddie finds him in his dressing room, head in his hands and fighting an oncoming breakdown.

buck looks up at her, and the likening to the little seven year old who’s wounds she nursed strikes her all of a sudden, with his big watery eyes and the pursed lips as he tries to hold his tears back.

what if this is because it’s not meant to be, he’s saying, voice trembling. that all this is happening because we’re testing fate and ignoring the signs that we’re not supposed to be together?

maddie hugs him tight and holds back on calling him ridiculous because it’s his wedding day, she ought to cut him some slack at least, instead heads out to return with eddie and christopher in tow, because if there was any two people who could fix this—it’s them.

buck shrieks that eddie isn’t supposed to be there, because they aren’t meant to see each other before the wedding for good luck, and right now, they were in absolutely no position to welcome even the thought of bad luck either.

buck obviously caves in when they pull him into a group hug, melting into the embrace and forgetting the weight of all those issues just for those few minutes. eddie pulls away to quickly look up something on his phone, pull out the rings from his pocket and suggest that they get married right here, right now in this dressing room, with chris officiating. they’d go on and have a ceremony out there too, but just another small one here, only the two of them and christopher.

turns out that of all scenarios buck imagined, of all the planning and effort he put into making this day perfect, nothing compares to this—his family and him, and the promise of the future to come.

as he kisses himself a husband, he realizes that there couldn’t possibly be anything closer to perfection than simply having the people he loved right where he wanted them, right next to him.

[ineedanewbrainsposts]

girl girl girl hear me out ok ik someone would've thought of it before me but what if we put in-ho nd gi-hun in Hannibal universe nd Hannibal nd Will in squid game universe?? I'm thinking of writing this but I've exams soon

[glassofoj-twitter]

<3

[gabigarden]

♫ I believe we found a dream that's worth keeping

For more than just a day♫

[fiery-blues]

i need more mohan/walsh fics please i am begging i am down on my knees i am willing to do anything just give me more mohan/walsh fics

[winchester-grown-willow]

More Destiel

[emeraldsquishmallow]

Barriss Offee and Rush Clovis would actually work as a couple in concept. Rush is a highly affectionate person, and poor Barriss needs hella affection. Barriss is very firm on boundaries [ or at least seems to be] So she could help him with his god awful creepiness. She knows he means well. Clovis is happy to cling to her when she's feeling especially down.

Also weird couple headcannons and major AU events.

Barriss likes wearing oversized sweaters and cardigans. It drives Rush absolutely mad and he can't figure out why.

Barriss has no idea that said oversized clothing drives her man up the wall

Rush consistently sends her plants even before she leaves the Jedi Order.

Plo knew the whole time.

Rush and Barriss keep the secret amazingly well.

Barriss leaves the order when her looser robes don't hide le baby bump.

Rush made it to Courasant in record time when he found out she wanted to leave the order.

Barriss ends up being a school teacher for a while.

The whole banking ark never happens

Palpatine is foiled.

Tarkin thinks this is funny [He was fucking Dooku the whole time]

Rush and Barriss have twins. [Ashlya and Ahsoka.]

Because I still want Clovis to be normal friends with Padme, Padme is godmother

Yes so is Ahsoka

Anakin is currently mega confused as to how Clovis went from Padme to Barriss seemingly overnight.

The entire galaxy has this moment where they realize Clovis was faking that shit.

Padme apologizes.

Luke, Leia, tiny Ahsoka and Ashlya have playdates often.

Bail is the new Chancellor

Tarkin and Dooku marry because I need them too for my own mental health.

Maul gets both his brothers

Ventress and Obi-Wan have a mege è trois with Satine.

Kit Fisto has a mini mental breakdown over the fact Barriss was indeed taken.

@papsiguesss @rush-to-greatness Judge me.

[bettercallmoshiiixd]

constantly thinking about nachojesse and imagining that they are happy, get married and adopted a child

[thatfurryteen]

This exists.

Now it's your problem.

[alive-koshi]

I'm literally barking so hard right now. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭

woah guys Im so normal about them being back and better than ever haha

[little-aeronaut]

Ive worked on this for almost 22 hours and connor and hank are practically imprinted in my eyelids

i was kinda going for more subtle expressions with this one, hank - disappointed look (understanding/attitude of world) vs connor - being slightly confused (new sense of morality and mortality)

(close up of connor before rim lighting since his face took for ever and im kinda proud of the rendering ->)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.