#shits getting real guys

[the-6th-harbringer]

what are you thinking about right now

time cancel what

It's nothing you need to worry about.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

prayer of the day:

[numbuh424]

the 2nd half of death note should've just gone full comedy complete with a laugh track and had these two dissing each other the whole time

[hbdttg]

“Hold the elevator!”

The elevator doors are mere inches from closing, but Steve dutifully shoots a hand out to stop them. They slide back open, revealing a flustered-looking man about Steve’s age on the other side.

He’s dressed head to toe in black, decked out in a simple black pullover with a modest V-neck, snug black jeans, and all-black leather Chucks with a messenger bag slung across his chest. The messenger bag is, unsurprisingly, also black, but covered in a collection of tough-looking patches and pins in varying shades of—well, it’s mostly red, dark red, white, and some yellows, but the pops of color still stand out against his otherwise monochrome ensemble.

His dark, curly hair reaches a little past his shoulders and he’s got this frankly outdated fringe that, despite its very 80’s vibe, frames his face perfectly. His eyes are large and expressive, and he’s got this frantic energy about him that reminds Steve of a live wire. He’s nothing like the buttoned-up suits Steve usually shares his elevator rides with each morning, and it’s a refreshing change of pace.

The man gives Steve a thankful look before stepping into the elevator and leaning against the side wall. “Thanks,” he says, a little distractedly. He’s got a pair big of headphones on and Steve realizes he’s in the middle of a phone call when he adds, “No, not you, Gare, I was thanking the guy who held the elevator for me. Yeah, this building’s crazy. There’s a whole-ass sixtieth floor—guess I’m kind of a big deal now.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, reaching for the panel beside him.

As the doors close and the elevator starts to slowly ascend, Steve notices the man pressed the button for the floor above his. Both the fifty-second and fifty-third floor buttons are lit in a halo of green.

“You know I didn’t want to leave you guys,” the man continues, a bit more quietly now that he and Steve are sharing the same small space, “but shit, I couldn’t turn down the pay.” He scoffs. “Ugh, listen to me, just another cog in the capitalist machine. Man, if high school me could see me now. High school Eddie used to talk big about forced conformity and rising up against the man, and now here I am—”

Steve tries not to listen to the one-sided conversation going on beside him, but it’s difficult when a moment later, he hears his own name.

“—clocking in for my first day at fuckin’ Harrington Hargrove Hagan. The pretentious bastards can’t even shorten it to an acronym or something. God forbid they have to miss out on the sound of their own names.”

Steve manages to hold in the obnoxious snort that threatens to escape him. He’s starting to think he might like this guy—Eddie, his mind supplies helpfully—but Eddie’s next words have him freezing in place.

“And it’s nepo baby central. Yeah, pretty sure all the H kiddies are hotshot brokers with the company. All the biggest accounts—gee, I wonder why.”

Steve can feel the back of his neck burning hot with a mixture of annoyance and shame as Eddie cracks a caustic joke about silver spoons and trust funds.

“You’re kidding, one of them works at this branch? Damn, I guess I’ll just keep an eye out for the guy who most looks like he’s got a giant stick up his ass.”

This is quickly becoming the longest elevator ride of Steve’s life. He grits his teeth and stares fixedly at the floor display panel above the elevator doors, watching the numbers climb higher and higher. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

“Listen, I should go, but let’s grab a drink at the Hideout later. Cool, see you then. Bye.”

Forty-one. Forty-two.

Eddie removes his headphones and shoves them into his bag, angling slightly toward Steve. “Sorry about that, man.”

“You’re good,” Steve says shortly, not looking away from the changing numbers. They reach the forty-seventh floor, and all the while, he feels Eddie’s gaze on him.

It’s not like he’s openly staring, but there’s a certain weight to his furtive glances that completely counteracts his attempts at subtlety. It’s the type of gaze Steve’s familiar with, one that he’s been on the receiving end of since his sophomore year of high school when he hit a growth spurt and actually learned how to style his hair. Assessing. Appreciative. Interested.

And in any other situation, Steve would gladly engage. He’d turn on the charm, quirk the corner of his lip up in that way Robin always rolls her eyes at but reluctantly acknowledges as ‘passably effective’, and maybe even make up an excuse to sidle a bit closer.

But he’s not giving this guy his A-game.

Instead, Steve waits in stifling silence until the fifty-second floor is announced and the doors slide open. He steps forward to exit, but at the very last moment stops in the doorway.

He initially wasn’t going to say anything—though, a past version of himself would have definitely spat something biting and bitchy to Eddie about his snark, would have snootily told him to take his little assumptions and shove them where the sun don’t shine—but sooner or later Eddie’s going to realize he and Steve are colleagues, and he’s going to remember shit-talking him in an elevator on his first day of work, and it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Steve’s just speeding up the timeline, pushing for the sooner rather than the later, when he decides to spin around and fully face Eddie.

“I think you pressed the wrong button,” he says, all sweet and helpful like he’s talking to Dustin’s mom over a sink full of soapy dishes. “Couldn’t help but overhear that you work at Harrington Hargrove Hagan. It’s on the fifty-second floor, not the fifty-third.” Then he takes a small step backward, moving out into the carpeted hallway.

“Oh.” Eddie scrambles for his phone, unlocking it and scrolling quickly until he finds something that has him straightening up and smiling gratefully at Steve. “I guess I remembered it wrong. Thank you.” He pushes away from the wall, takes a step forward to follow Steve out, but then stops dead in his tracks.

Steve gleefully notes the line of Eddie’s gaze, how it lingers at the breast pocket of his shirt, where, clipped to a retractable badge reel, his building keycard hangs. Eddie evidently hadn’t noticed it during the elevator ride up, but he’s certainly fixated on it now.

Perhaps on the abstract yet easily recognizable Harrington Hargrove Hagan logo in the top right corner.

But more likely, based on the positively mortified look growing on Eddie’s face, on the name clearly printed underneath Steve’s photo in bold, black lettering: STEVE HARRINGTON.

Slowly, Eddie drags his eyes back up to Steve’s face. He stares in silence, eyes bugging nearly out of his head, face turning a concerning shade of pink, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and his reaction is extreme enough that a small part of Steve is almost inclined to take pity on the guy and laugh it all off.

Unfortunately for Eddie, a bigger part of Steve thinks Eddie looks kind of cute all red-faced and embarrassed like this. So he glances down at himself thoughtfully before turning his attention back on Eddie. “Wow,” he says with exaggerated astonishment, “now that you mention it, I guess I do look like I’ve got a giant stick up my ass.”

As if on cue, the elevator chimes in warning. The doors begin to close, but Eddie just remains rooted in place with that same wide-eyed, horrified expression.

When it becomes clear he has no intentions of actually exiting the elevator, Steve chuckles and wiggles his fingers in a cheeky little wave. “Welcome to the team,” he says airily, before Eddie’s still-blushing face disappears behind the elevator doors.

/ Now with a Part 2!

[casyawn]

what's fun about newton and hermann is that they're both extremely cheesy but in totally different ways so they're still never in sync like newton would tell everyone he and hermann are going to save humanity with the power of love and hermann would blush and scoff and roll his eyes but then late at night he'd whisper things like i ache for you dr geiszler and newton would be like ahhhaha what. oh my god. awesome

[crunchycrystals]

shout out to vic michaelis for their presentation in the smartypants premiere that made me do so much research about vegetables and hawaiian colonization around 5 minutes after i watched a guy say spiderman should say every racial slur

[wispforever]

hidan and kakuzu share thoughts on religion

[mxfrodo]

y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???

[thomas-the-goat-of-satan]

you're ugly when you act like that.

[personishfive]

in which his life is like a video game

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

guy who so desperately tries to find god. who wants to have faith in a higher authority to guide him out of the hole he's in. from the weight of guilt from simply existing, as the person he is. but every time he thinks he's answered his higher calling it turns out he's made the Morally Incorrect choice and his path to goodness and holiness was the road to the devil all along

[beatcroc]

pest control TWO!!!!! heres the first one

adn heres the obligatory bonus bc i can't help myself :')

[hazel2468]

Look-

Anyone who tries telling you that both parties are the same and there is no point in voting? Has a fucking agenda, and it's a nasty one.

Do the Dems disappoint me? Yes, constantly. Do I have gripes with Biden? 100%.

Do I also recognize that he has GOTTEN SHIT DONE and that those things are like. NOT talked about by people my age because it feels better to be angry and constantly demanding better while being unwilling to put up with Average Joe who is ACTUALLY doing things that progressives have been asking for for AGES (putting caps on medication prices, working to cancel student and medical debt, investing in infrastructure and going after inflation, started working on protecting reproductive rights after Trump put in place the shitty judges who wrecked Roe, is trying to go after how weed is scheduled and pardoned all federal offenses, et-fucking-cetera).

Not only do I actually LIKE some of the shit Biden is doing? If Trump gets back in office? People will die. He and his have been OPEN about the fact that they want to go (somehow) even MORE fascist.

Fucking vote. Anyone telling you not to has your worst interests at heart. Be as pissed off as you want, but fucking VOTE. Because we have a chance of continuing to push a president like Biden towards the change we want to see. We have ZERO chance of that with Trump, or someone like him.

[softhairedhotch]

imagine being on a case with aaron, who you've been dating for years at this point, and the unsub manages to kidnap you both. he keeps you trapped somewhere for a few days and aaron genuinely thinks he's about to die, thinks he's gonna have to watch you die first (you're barely holding on), and...

he proposes.

it's definitely not what he had planned, he has it all written down in a secret notepad and has the ring waiting for him in his office. but right now he doesn't think he's ever gonna see that ring again, or have the chance for you to see it, to hear you say yes as you slip it on, to see everyone's reactions as you tell them, to get to marry you in front of everyone he loves most in the world. and he panics. it breaks him.

so he proposes.

it's less of a proposal and more of a rushed out i-love-you-please-marry-me-if-we-get-outta-here in one hushed painful breath but it lights you up inside and gives you the hope you need to keep holding on. to keep fighting. and when you say yes, yes of course, you see the same feeling rush over him, and the both of you finally, for the first time since getting kidnapped, feel like things might be okay.

[noodlesarecheese]

Full disclosure I'm a couple episodes behind in WWW, so I'm not 100% on every thing that's being discoursed about, but I've seen enough that I just want to remind people/beg people to remember:

You are watching The Nuance Show, DMed by Mr. Philosophical Nuance and played by Notable Lovers of Nuance.

[ricky-mortis]

A portrait of Sir John Herschel because I‘m normal about Pulp Musicals