#the proof is damning!

[lavenderjewels]

[ID: One gif of teen Gojo walking with his arm flailing and drinking soda. Two cropped panels of Gojo, one with Gojo smiling wide and one with teen gojo making a simple Pac-Man mouth. One photo of Kermit the Frog with his hands to his head. End ID.]

hi welcome to my gojo-is-a-muppet mood board

[idolomantises]

Rewatching Adventure Time, I can't help but think so much Princess Bubblegum discourse would be non-existent if people actually watched the show to completion instead of randomly hyperfocusing on some of PB's bad deeds.

There's a very bizarre and commonly held belief that Princess Bubblegum did terrible things and got away with it, that nobody held her accountable. When the show makes a point, repeatedly, that Princess Bubblegum is well meaning but deeply flawed, and to some characters, straight up evil.

I see fans point to "The Cooler" a lot as proof that PB is an irredeemable character, and while it is her worst act in the entire show.... I think people forgot that that was the point. Near the end of the episode she stops spying on people in Ooo because it was an invasion of privacy. In another episode she's called out for exploiting some aliens and lets them go. She feels ashamed that her own people are terrified of her. She loses her entire kingdom, and realizes she needs to get her shit together.

I'm pretty critical of shows that are way too lenient on flawed female characters but Princess Bubblegum isn't one of them. She's awesome, and heavily misunderstood.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 129

Danny, now an adult, has just moved to the city of Gotham. Actually he’s been an adult for a while, but every once in a while he has to end his life, at least legally, lest someone get suspicious. Usually whenever Dan or Ellie does an oopsie and pulls a firebird with being reborn through their core. 

So legally, one Danyal Nightingale, has just moved to Gotham to open a bakery (Thank you for the wonderful recipes and bonding Clockwork) while taking care of his practically newborn son Jordan. Of course Elnath- Ellie- had to pull a core retreat too, which is just his luck. 

It wouldn’t be a problem, but he’s trying to not be so broody. A ghost- even a half-ghost- carrying another core though, has instincts turned up to like, eleven. Which again, wouldn’t be much of a problem if not for someone falling into his dumpster late at night bleeding. A vigilante, which he’s sworn to stay away from that life years ago. And it’s not a lethal wound…

But his instincts are screaming to not let the person bleed all around his nest, and he knows from experience that it would continue to bother him. Which is how he ends up with Batman on his couch to Dan’s glee if the ghost chirps are to go by. 

[albino-parakeet]

Jwct countdown May 14-15 prompt: Favorite Ship

Yaz and Sammy living the life I wish I had. Sapphic dinosaur ranch owners lol. Ft. Bumpy in the background

Of course I had to draw these two. Their kiss/confession scene is on repeat in my mind all the time and I’m still so just in awe that it happened. Here’s to hoping they stay together and happy throughout all of Chaos Theory! @campbenji

Timelapse undercut:

Song used in Timelapse (and is the same one I listened to on repeat while working on this)-> Real Love by Cat Clyde

[p1nkcanoe]

what a spooky little dude 🦇

[cybertron-after-dark]

List of Optimus prime iterations that canonically know what sex is:

-g1. It's confirmed that Optimus Primal is his descendant, meaning either A. at some point before 2005, the Autobots took notes from the inhabitants of earth and found a way to sexually reproduce, or B. They already had means of doing so.

-optimus primal. see above. (Yes I know he doesn't count as actual Optimus prime but shhhhh it's for the funny). Also the fact that he lives with rattrap, who is unrepentantly horny on main.

-tfa. We all know the clip that confirms this.

-cyberverse, by virtue of sexual reproduction being implied as canon in rescue bots academy (medix refers to ratchet as his uncle, so not only does ratchet have a brother, but that brother has his own kid). While rescue bots academy is very hard to pin to a coherent timeline, the designs and personalities of the mainline autobots that show up are indisputably parallel to cyberverse.

Conclusion: Optimus prime fucks I guess

[ioniansunsets]

Alright but hear me out (hello btw how are you ?) kayn heartsteel have canonically been kicked out of his previous band ; imagine fem!reader (successful idol herself or civilian) comforting him and trying to help him push through it and get back on his feet to continue his music !

✖ Pre Heartsteel!Kayn Being Kicked Out ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S, Idol!Reader

✖ A/N: You were a performer too and met him at a gig before either of you got famous! You two live together in this one, you’re a solo idol that practices at home so you can spend your days with him. These are headcanons! Whee!

----

-  It wrecked him. You two got together while he was in his old band, so it was an important memory to you both. As a solo artist, you understood the intricacies of being in the public eye but still, being kicked out? That was rough…something you personally could never experience. You did your best to comfort him.

- The first few days was the worst. Kayn was the perfect definition of bi-polar. Either his Rhaast ego was full blown, wild, and uninhibited. Man straight up was about to do crimes and was only stopped by you begging him not to make things worse for himself. (You caught him with a bag full of spray paint about to go wreck his old studio.) Or he was the trained Idol, Kayn. Rhaast entirely held back, the perfect definition of an average idol, obedient and reserved. Joining you in your dance and vocal practices in your home studio.

- Don’t even talk about the things he tweeted during that era, you had to run into his room and tell him to delete them minutes after posting. It was a bad time. If you were to ask Kayn now about those old tweets? He was on the very fence of, cocky pride on how he was a “badass” that “didn’t follow rules back then” or just overwhelming embarrassment for being young and dumb.

- There was a lot of work to be done over those first few days, you got the help of your own PR guys to try and get Kayn’s media presence looking better. You yourself doing your best to give him advice on performing, it wasn’t even that he was a bad artist, it was just…he had some strong ideals and just didn’t work well with his old band. It took months honestly but as always, drama died down and Kayn slowly got to live his life again.

- The saddest part of all this drama was that because you were an idol too it was hard to bring him out to comfort him. Paparazzi were hounding you both, media wanting to know what went down with Kayn and if you were seen beside him…gods who knew what the media would say about your career. You two barely left your house because you just couldn’t.

- So, all you could do was your best. Dragging him to game with you on the PC, buying new consoles to try new games with him (murdering things in game really helped him unsurprisingly), watching movies together at home (feel good films that actually make him cry), getting him to do weird shit like painting your shared room (you have a messy signature of his by the door), crocheting weird little animals (he made Rhaast!), hells you managed to get him to read a book (banned in various nations). It was…different. But it helped keep his mind off doing anything that would ruin his career more while satisfying his need to just be a creative.

- On one of those uneventful days, Kayn ordered a nice little delivery package and excitedly ran into your room. Holding the plastic bag up proud. “ Y/N. I’m going to change my image. Entirely. Can you help me. Like…Right. Fucking. Now.” You stare at him in confusion until he walked up to your table, and pulled 7 boxes of bleach and dye, dumping them on your table. “ I’m going to go hot pink.” You laugh, but oblige anyway. If it would cheer him up then you would spend the day helping him out.

- There was a lot of angry snuggling on boring evenings. Kayn would lie in bed in your arms ranting about his ideals, how he was meant for bigger, greater things, things no one else in the industry or his old band could comprehend. And you would hug him tight, supporting him as he complained, listening, agreeing where you can, giving him bigger and better ideals of grandeur. The both of you knew it wasn’t anything serious, but it really did help lighten his mood. “ I’ll really set the stage on fire next time just watch me.” “ I’ll bring the gasoline then.” “ For real! I will fucking bring fireworks and shit too. It’ll be sick as hell! Never seen before! I’ll wreck the stage!!!! Livestream that shit!!!” Such evenings would end with the both of you laughing. It was nice to see him happier again in those small moments. Sometimes you could even see a sneak of a soft smile creeping onto his face, his appreciation for you playing along and not stopping him.

- It took about a week before you felt it was right to get him to pick his guitar back up. Convincing him that the best way to get over the bad memories was to form new ones, the two of you sitting down to write a song. He really went HARD with the lyrics, it was a damn god rap at that but it was honestly a diss track at his old band and shall stay hidden in the files of your computer forever. You do secretly listen to it sometimes, it was raw as fuck, personally it helped YOU when you were angry and frustrated. Not that you would admit to him. It would only stroke his ego more.

- He only admitted it once. Once when you two were soaking in a hot bath together. Only Once did he tell you how much your support meant to him. Nice smells and colors from a bath bomb floating around you two. It was a slow morning, a few weeks after getting kicked out, right before he joined Heartsteel. You sat there, back against his chest as he rests his head on your shoulder. Relaxing in the tub. It was peaceful silence before he spoke up. “ Y/N…I’m going to join a new band.” You actually had to pause and turn to stare at him. Shocked. Asking him if he was sure, if he was ready, if he was comfortable to be performing with people again. You held his face, asking once more if this is what he wanted to do in his career, if he was going to give up on going solo like you. His hand rose to hold yours against his face as he spoke. “ Yeah, I talked to them a lot the past week and…they genuinely accept me and all my crazy ideas. They love Rhaast for who he is and I think I can work with this. I’m sure about this.” He laughs, putting your arm down as his hands wrap around you in a tight hug. Kayn moving his face down to your neck as he gives you a soft kiss, gentle, barely there as he whispers, not looking at you. “ I have to thank you for this by the way. For letting me Be Rhaast. For telling me time and time again to just be the Rockstar that I was meant to be. That my unique brand of rock was fine. I’ll remember this forever. Every time you see Rhaast on stage it’ll be thanks to you. Remember that.” And that was it. He never really showed his vulnerability about his old band ever again. The next day he joined Heartsteel, and it was great for him. Your own heart feeling warm and fuzzy seeing him laugh and have fun with new bandmates. And when you stand in the audience, seeing Rhaast rap some sick bars, you can’t help but smile. He was Your Rockstar.

[shmreduplication]

I thought it was like a critical and universal moment in my development into adulthood when I realized everyone is Just Some Guy. no one is inherently more special than anyone else and the luck of being born in the right place at the right time can never be overstated

many many many things have happened since my own Just Some Guy revelation that has made it extremely clear that it is not a universal learning moment and has nothing to do with having a fully grown adult brain, it's just a coincidence that I figured it out in my late teenagehood. But the most annoying and ongoing thing is people who hate Harry and Meghan because they talk in a tone of like "how dare this Just Some Guy (Meghan) do this to The Royal Family‽" but it's actually quite easy to understand when you think of it in terms of Just Some Guys doing stuff to Just Some Other Guys. Even easier when you think of it as Just Some Guys doing stuff to Just Some Other Guys Who Think They're More Than Just Some Guys And Think The First Set Of Just Some Guys Are Less Than Themselves

[piosplayhouse]

Rumors are going around on twitter and weibo that starember might have left the tgcf manhua team omg.. they're unfounded right now but can we get a prayer circle going for hoping that it's true!! 🙏🙏🙏I'm so tired of their consistent racism and orientalism being passed around in the manhua space, people have been raising the alarm on it for literal years now

[tintamm]

i just know it in my BONES that John Price is the type of husband that converts the spare bedroom in y'alls home, into a crafting/library/personal room for you.

He builds any shelving and furniture you need for your space. Helps you paint the room and adjusts everything to your liking.

Or better yet, if you have the space in your backyard, he builds you a beautiful little studio. It probably costs a small fortune but money is no matter when it comes to making you happy. <3

You ask him to help you place a bed in your space too--just for the days when you need to sleep on your own. (You get easily overwhelmed and just need a little alone time). John agrees but gets a little sad when he thinks about spending a night without you. He can't sleep well if you're not near him!!

So he ends up asking if he can sleep on the floor of your studio, just to be close to you. But then you end up feeling bad...his poor back!!!

"Dammit John, just climb in bed with me". He gives you his signature smile.

The bed is too small for you and John to sleep comfortably (its a twin sized bed lol). With some maneuvering you both manage to fit. He snores all night! >:(

The studio is your favorite space! You journal, paint, read, and play your favorite video game for hours on end. (Yes, you lose track of time in there lol.)

John loves watching you in your element. Loves how much peace and joy your little studio brings you. Ever the doting husband, he makes sure you're hydrated and well-fed. (Price is an excellent cook!) You always give him a big o'l kiss every time he drops by.

His heart nearly bursts when you tell him how lucky you are to be loved and cared for by him.

"You're so easy to love, sweetheart"

[hitlikehammers]

nowhere without you

rating: t ♥️ cw: post-final battle, hurt/comfort ♥️ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, BIG emotions, even BIGGER love, as in: soul-deep love, softness; happy endings always ♥️

for @steddielovemonth day eight: Love is the heartbeat I can feel when I hug him

(also probably the humble love-soaked endlessly-devoted beginnings of the rockstar!husbands in je ne regrette rien)

The weirdest part is how, in the aftermath, Eddie doesn’t speak. Like, at all.

Scratch that: it’s the weirdest and the most concerning part. Eddie makes noise, mostly pained kinda moans that make Steve’s chest clench, ache more the admittedly-decently-deep wounds slowly—but reliably, like, consistently—stitching themselves together, and Steve begs him to get looked at again, because something has to be wrong to cause those kinds of sounds but Eddie doesn’t even shake his head, doesn’t really move at all save that sometimes he trembles, and it’s…

It fucking breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s almost gotten used to stroking Eddie’s hair in silence—so wrong; worthy Eddie that’s just so wrong—and working any tangles out so, much as it’s getting a limp and greasy with days of neglect, at least it’s smooth; but he’s almost resigned to this for the long haul because he’ll weather anything he has to for Eddie and they’ll work through this, whatever this is, they’ll worth through it together and—

“How did you stand you it?”

The sound is more a scratch than anything, glass on sandpaper, and it’s down to Eddie lying where he hasn’t left for the last four, going on five days—as in, not once while Steve’s been awake has he existed without Eddie’s weight situated just so against his chest, sinuous and deliberate in where he presses against, careful as a rule of Steve’s worst injuries and delicate about how he rests against Steve’s body, but not…hesitant.

More, kinda…kinda desperate.

So it’s down to him being pressed so close and sure and unwavering that Steve feels him speak more than anything, matches the motion of his lips against Steve’s gown to words rather than the wind, or something outside his door to the halls of the hospital beyond; it’s down to the tension in the whole of him, the all-too-present shaking that Steve matches the scrape of the question to a hurt that’s…that maybe Steve doesn’t wholly understand just yet, but that really and truly does cut him deeper and closer and more critical at the core of him than the Upside Down ever could have clawed in: Eddie lives in him, nothing else can really…ever hope to be deeper.

“How are you,” Eddie rolls gravel across more words, and Steve’s missed his voice so fucking much, he didn’t realize how much until it’s here again for him to hear and hold but, Jesus fuck, it’s like…it’s like it’s drowning; like Eddie is drowning and then his breath is hitching, and oh, god, that voice is cracking around the edge of a sob, watery and wavering as he damn-near close to begs:

“How did you survive it?”

Steve feels it clench in his ribs, because he thinks he…he thinks he’s putting it together. The strain, the agony in that voice, that voice he loves so fucking much, from this man he loves with everything, but then—the way Eddie presses into him. The force, and the position, and the pattern. The way he’s been quiet, unfailing, but never…never seems distant, seems the opposite: seems focused; intent. The way Dustin had come in and caught him upon the things he’d missed in one of the almost-nonexistent windows where Eddie sleeps, hand lines alongside his sternum and head curled in the most uncomfortable pretzel Steve can imagine, forehead all scrunched and eyes squeezed shut so goddamn hard, looking like any sleep he manages is nothing close to rest by any measure: but Dustin had came in and told him Eddie was the first to him; Eddie ran faster than he’d seen a person run; Eddie’d looked devastated, broken when they’d caught up, and they’d been so afraid, feared the worst, and—

Steve’s starting to fit the pieces together. Maybe.

“No,” Eddie whines, pitchy and fervent and almost ear-splitting, like a wail of sheer gut-wrenching pain that Steve can’t find the reason for in the here and now because it’s just them in a hospital room, they’re okay, and his hand presses heavy, gentle around his wounds still, always gentle and so, so careful and Steve doesn’t know what’s caused the reaction, but then—

Then he can feel his fucking heartbeat for how hard Eddie’s pressing. It’s weird, how it makes him feel…strangely alive, the sensation of it kept and held like that, specifically in Eddie’s hand. And he’s not paying attention to the monitors really, tuned them out as quick as he could but when he listens, okay. Okay, maybe faster than normal, but Steve’s fucking worried, okay, he’s—

“Fuck, no,” Eddie moans and twists his head, no, not just his head, his ear and leans harder into Steve’s chest, his breathing shallow and Steve hates it but he doesn’t know what to do, how to help, what to fix because he’ll fix it if he knows, he’ll climb out of this bed and crawl on the goddamn floors of he has to, but he doesn’t know where to go, what to find, what demon’s left to slay—

“I’m just, I’m grateful you did,” survive, Steve survived…

He survived, like, now?

“But grateful’s such a weak word, it doesn’t,” and Steve takes a breath, and reaches, rests his hand on Eddie’s wrist just to see: his heartbeat’s somuch faster, it’s like a flutter of a flutter felt strong enough to break through skin, it catches in Steve’s heart just to touch—

“You’re so much stronger than I could ever, like,” Eddie’s going on, still breathless and fuck, Steve can see why; “fucking hope to be.”

Shit, but that’s…he wasn’t stronger, fuck, Steve wasn’t stronger than Eddie, Eddie nearly got eaten alive, Steve nearly couldn’t staunch enough of the bleeding, he almost lost—

Eddie keens, horrible and hurting and Steve stills: the monitor. The thundering of his own pulse at the memory.

How did you survive it?

Losing. Almost losing. That’s…that’s what it is.

That’s why Eddie’s pressed against his chest, his his head and his hand have been a fucking frame, goddamn, like, parentheses surrounding Steve’s beating heart, proof of life, Jesus—

“But I need to be,” Eddie’s voice is quiet, but steadier, and his chin dips like a nod to himself; “I need to learn how,” he’s firm with it; “for you.”

Oh, god. Oh…oh Eddie.

“I can’t ever lose you, Steve,” Eddie presses trembling lips to Steve’s chest and then presses close again, so close and oh: he wasn’t just intent where he’s been silent so long.

He was listening.

“Never ever,” he breathes against Steve, hot and damp; almost kinda breathless again, or still: “never ever.”

“Eds,” Steve begins, not even entirely sure where he plans to go, just knows he needs to do something, say something, but Eddie’s turning Steve’s hand in his, where he’d circled Eddie’s wrist; he’s turning it and mirroring the hold, gripping Steve’s wrist in kind.

“I couldn’t find it,” he gasps, and the sound makes the sob clear before Steve feels the wetness soak through to his skin; “I couldn’t feel it at all, you were, it,” he presses his fingers in hard, squeezes so goddamn tight, and Steve can’t…he doesn’t want to imagine what Eddie had to do, what Eddie found and felt, he doesn’t but he can, because he remembers the mirror image so stark, it took him so long because he couldn’t find a pulse either, he’d had to press on Eddie’s heart at the source and even then—

“I couldn’t feel you.”

Oh. Fuck. He—

“Oh, baby,” Steve’s elevated enough at an angle that he can at least kiss Eddie’s hair, barely brush his scalp but it’s enough, for the breath that punches from Eddie against his chest it’s at least something; “that’s…”

“I won’t survive that again, Steve,” Eddie sucks in, unsteady and drenched with tears, with sorrow, but also…also more than anything else, they’re filled up with so much love.

A love big enough to hurt that hard.

“And I can’t…” Eddie gasps, breath catching; “I can’t handle not feeling it,” and his fingers tighten; his hand on Steve’s chest and his cheek across from it press down that extra little bit so Steve knows his own heartbeat in those moments full and deep.

“Have to feel it always,” Eddie whispers like he’s telling himself, and Steve, and Steve’s heart through flesh and bone, some cosmic secret no one else can know: too sacred. Too precious.

“You can feel it any time,” Steve lets his hand fall from Eddie’s to cover the hand Eddie’s got splayed ln his chest, counting time; holds him there almost protectively: “all the time,” and he slips his fingers between Eddie’s and shifts his palm close to the beating, so he can still feel what he needs as he murmurs with his heart literally in Eddie’s hands, with his entire goddamn soul:

“All of me. It’s yours.”

Unshakable fucking fact. He doesn’t even have to will it, or hope for it; his heartbeat knocks that heavier against their hands for those words like it knows.

It knows.

“Don’t leave me,” Eddie bursts out, begging; almost something primal, and Steve can feel the tremoring of his lips where they drag against him; “please. I’ll do anything, I swear it, just don’t—“

“Be you,” Steve braves the whimper that comes from untangling his hand from Eddie so that he can reach for Eddies cheek and cradle him in closer, and oh, fuck, thank god: something in him sighs out and loosens, ever so slightly—finally.

“Everything you are,” Steve presses on, runs his thumb back and forth through Eddie’s drooping curls; “let me love you, past living and dying,” and Eddie’s breath catches, for that, but Steve holds him tighter for it, drowns him as best he’s able in the proof he needs so bad; “don’t leave me,” and Eddie huffs a little for that, like it’s beyond believing, impossible, and Steve smiles to himself for it, tries to lean enough to press the grin to Eddie’s head, hopes he manages as he murmurs there close:

“That’s it, Eddie,” and he lets his fingers spread wider, cradle Eddie all the more: “that’s all I need.”

“That and more baby,” Eddie answers him between the double-beat of his pulse, immediate; “you’re the music and the rhythm,” he nuzzles a little against him, and Steve smiles a little wider for it; “you’re the reason my heart beats,” and Steve finds that heartbeat for himself at Eddie’s jaw, now; a little calmer. Not much. But: something.

It’s a start.

”I don’t have a reason without you,” Eddie exhales, vehement; “I don’t want a reason, without you.”

And Steve should maybe push on it, or be scared by it: but neither seem right, not for this.

Not for them.

Steve just holds Eddie’s pulse under the pressure of his touch, and holds Eddie’s cheek closer still into his chest as he breathes:

“You’re my whole heart, Eds,” and he lets a second pass, and then another, for that heart of Eddie’s to pump evidence unshakable against him, to play the song and rhythm straight into his waiting ear:

“Was never going anywhere without you.”

♥️ ao3 link here

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch

♥️

divider credit here

[columboscreens]

[specificallybruins]

Hello sir I am looking disrespectfully????

[dnpbeats]

most second-hand embarrassment inducing d&p moment has to be the india phone call younow fiasco 🤧 like i understand why dan said what he did and why they were covering don't get me wrong i don't blame them but it is PAINFUL to watch

and on a related note this is why all those fics from like 2015 where d&p accidentally come out on live and then are like 'oops oh well guess we're out now!' are so silly... like phil accidentally admits to talking to dan on the phone on live when dan was trying to hide the fact. and u can see dan's soul leave his body and then he tries desperately to cover up the fact that they have personal phone calls—even though that is something completely normal to do with friends and not actually something that needs to be covered up!

like again i understand why he was trying to be like "oh it was a business call" but my point is that if he was freaking out over THAT being revealed, it wouldn't have been oh ha ha funny if they had been actually outed on live babes it would've been oh shit shit not funny at all very very bad times

[sunnythedragon]

Spoilers for the Welcome Home Update

Frank going from “Mr. Dear" to "Eddie" SCREAMS of a closeted gay relationship. Like, he calls him "Mr. Dear" in public so people don't think they're too close, but the minute he sees that Eddie's distressed, his worried husband instincts kick in and the mask slips just enough to try to snap Eddie out of it. But you also can tell he's still trying to keep the front up because he's almost whispering Eddie's name.

Clown's already said that homophobia is gonna be a major theme in Welcome Home, and this really feels like our first big taste of it.

[beanghostprincess]

still can't believe this happened in the same episode btw