#or tonight i guess

[wordsinhaled]

i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”

many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well

metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.

it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)

so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way

aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.

but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on

and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun

like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience

aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.

[julijbee]

in awe of the beauty of the world

[temeyes]

studies

[lu-does-eurovision]

Changes we need to bring to 2024 Eurovision:

– Reduce jury votes: I get that eliminating them completely is not a possibility. The EBU wouldn't agree to that. However, maybe their importance should be lower. Make the vote 70% Public + 30% jury. In the end, people should be the ones selecting the winner, not a 5 person jury often selected in a non-transparent manner.

– Winners shouldn't be allowed to come back. And not only past winners, but also consolidated artists. Harry Styles shouldn't represent the UK nor Rosalía with Spain. They already have the spotlight. Past winners also had their moment and enjoyed the momentum. The opportunity should be offered to those who haven't tasted it yet.

– Israel shouldn't participate. This one is self-explanatory. It's hypocritical for the EBU to ban Russia from competing and not Israel. They should do better.

[fishfission-dc]

Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 3: Tim)

<<Part 2: Dick    |    Part 4: Jason >>

[Masterlist]

Tim: Bruce, you should be happy to know that my presentation is educational and will help people be safer on patrol.

Bruce: Tim.

Duke: You’ve passed out on patrol enough times to make a powerpoint about it?

Barbara: I think Gothamites are used to finding an unconscious Red Robin on their roof at this point

Steph: And sometimes it happens to civilian Tim Drake

Tim: It’s fine guys I have a system don’t worry

Bruce: Just because I won’t have you arrested doesn’t mean I approve of you sleeping on rooftops

Damian: You imply that this has happened repeatedly

Tim: A few times.

Barbara: Seven, actually. I’m the one that has to clean up your mess every time. I can only take so many photos down, Tim.

Dick: what

Jason: How did you even-

[Bruce’s head is in his hands]

Tim: Don’t worry about it. Moving on

Steph: YOU WERE ASLEEP WHEN THAT HAPPENED?

Dick: TIM.

Jason: I suddenly feel more secure about my tenure as Robin

Steph: Yeah we may have died but at least we never pulled this crap

Duke: Not sure if this is endearing or concerning

Dick: It’s cute in a way that really worries me

[Bruce looks like he’s going to explode]

Dick: WHY WOULD YOU KICK HIM OUT

Jason: None of you should even know where my safehouses are much less show up in my apartment unannounced. I stand by my actions.

Steph: I don’t know what Tim expected honestly

Jason: WHAT

Damian: Classic

Jason: YOU BREAK INTO MY APARTMENT??

Steph: Wow, Tim. Thanks for exposing the best place to crash

Jason: YOU HACK MY SECURITY AND EAT MY FOOD???

Cass: (signs) You make very good pasta salad.

Jason: AND ROY LETS THIS HAPPEN?? REPEATEDLY???

Tim: Roy’s just chill like that. Moving on-

Steph: Yeah you’re for sure never living that down

Damian: Your incompetence will be remembered forever

Duke: Immortalized on the sticky note in the Batmobile that says “Red Robin banned from driving”

Barbara: And in the hole on the side of that Walmart

Bruce: Tim, after all this do you really think I’m ever going to give your Batmobile privileges back?

Tim: ...fair.

Jason: After all this I think I have to change your position on my slideshow.

Tim: I’m in your slideshow?

Jason: Oh just you wait

<<Part 2: Dick    |    Part 4: Jason >>

[Masterlist]

[eldritch-thrumming]

what, like it’s hard?, pt. one

“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.

“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.

“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.

and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.

“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”

and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.

but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.

“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.

“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”

and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.

so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.

tommy doesn’t even follow him out.

~*~

“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.

“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”

“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.

“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”

“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”

steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.

steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”

robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”

steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.

“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.

“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.

they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.

“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.

“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.

“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”

steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.

but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.

“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”

~*~

“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”

the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.

“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”

“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.

“i could,” he responds grumpily.

robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”

steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.

“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”

he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.

“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”

~*~

“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.

there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”

steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.

his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.

steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”

robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”

~*~

even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.

there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and

but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.

steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.

and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.

~*~

“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.

“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”

and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.

[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]

[bamsara]

apperently none of the rendering i did on the narinder + eldritch narinder during art stream last night saved

[steddieas-shegoes]

steve pov

He felt the pull at the same point every night.

As soon as he'd managed to get himself into the shower, he thought about him.

He looked at his bottle of shampoo and thought about how it wasn't next to Steve's.

He looked at the body wash he shared with the guys and wondered if he would ever get to steal from Steve's body wash again.

As Eddie got into bed, he listened to the guys sitting at the front of the shitty tour bus they could barely afford joking around, planning their futures as rock stars.

He tried to think like them, tried to think about the future he always wanted. He was so close. They were so close.

They were recording their second album. Their first was barely professional, barely even got produced, but this one. This one would change everything for them.

The more time they spent recording it, the more Eddie realized he didn't want to be singing into a microphone if Steve wasn't there watching him with that look.

The look that said 'I want you to kiss me until we can't breathe when you get off stage' and 'I know every song is about me already, but let me help you write a million more' and 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

The look that was fading from his memory with every passing day.

If he could go back to the conversation that led to this, he wouldn't have it at all. He'd stay with Steve, he'd tell the guys he needed some more time, maybe they could just go on a state-wide tour of some bars and see what happens. Maybe Steve would warm up to the idea of leaving.

Or maybe they were meant to share this distance, to grow apart like this, to yearn for each other in ways they didn't even when Eddie was almost dead on the ground of another universe and Steve was begging any god that would listen to just 'save him, take me, he can't die.'

And maybe tomorrow Eddie would call him. Maybe tomorrow he would ask if Steve wanted to come to a show.

Maybe tomorrow he could find a way to get that face looking at him from the front row or backstage again.

Maybe tomorrow he would get to admit to Steve that his dream doesn't mean shit if he isn't under the same lights as him.

[virgothozul]

[theminecraftbee]

one of the most frustrating moods as a writer is when you get in a mood where your brain goes "OKAY TIME TO WRITE MUST WRITE". and you go "cool i have my computer on, my keyboard in front of me, and my word processor open! what do i want to write" and your brain goes "WRITE" and you go "yeah but i can't write unless there is something i can actually write why am i completely blank when i look at my wips" and your brain goes "WRITE OR I'LL EXPLODE" and you're like. cool guess i'll explode then,

[etincelleart]

Tender moments 🌟

[stealingpotatoes]

I feel like while kanan and cal are caching up Hera and merrin would be comparing how stupid there husbands are lol

watch this [combos your asks]

[die-remastered]

Ok but we should write more stuff about Yuu just like losing their mind at NRC. Like obviously there’s the regular angst like “wahhhh my family is gone” but you know when your so stressed you want to physically cry but you can’t so you just laugh? Where is that Yuu?

Like I want Yuu to ask Trein if he knows what dinosaurs are and then cry at whatever answer he gives

Like imagine Yuu just being so frustrated and delirious because they make like a band reference and no one gets it.

Like obviously they’re going through the big changes but sometimes it feels ok and then they say a silly tik tok joke and they realize how they’ll never be understood completely by anyone at NRC

Or when Ace makes a joke and everyone laughs and they’re just like ??? 🥹

[ninjasmudge]

2016 era meme with Leshy?? /⁠ᐠ⁠｡u｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

drunken fuzzy worm stumbling around the fields at 3am holding farm implements like weapons 🐛

(this was me figuring out a leshy design but i couldnt decide if i liked the two or four arm design more so one of each)

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

yes steve is eddie's subby little babygirl but he is also eddie's bloodthirsty attack dog who will break the fingers of anyone who puts a hand on his people he contains multitudes ok

[faunandfloraas]

fav skz // This Changbin...