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#the chemistry is real
allthingsobrien · 1 year
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The Vampire Diaries (2009 - 2017) 4x18 // 6x07
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vi-enti · 1 month
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me, older and more mature, rewatching criminal minds: elle, reid, penelope and morgan should’ve been a polycule
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urfavcrime · 11 months
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ok ok I SEE THE RINA VISION...
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Workaholics Anonymous 
Science Major: Man, I sure wish I had time to enjoy college but I have so much studying and homework to do. At least I'll get an easy high paying job after, right?
Physicist: I think I have a pretty good work life balance (does not, actually) and I think my grad students should have the same work life balance (which is not having that)
Astronomer: I work *about 40 hour weeks, but sometimes there are hours are in the middle of the night 'cause, y'know, stars. But who needs a consistent sleep schedule, really? Not me. I got Redbull.
Geologist: Sometimes I get to spend 15 hours a day wandering through the desert in severe weather conditions looking for cool rocks! also I have to like survey the land or whatever so I can get money
Chemist: Oh, you know, my PI only lets me see my family at night for dinner, then I have to come back and sleep in the lab, but overall I’d say I’m not too stressed.
Physician: Well, I had to work really hard, so why shouldn't everyone else have to work even harder? I'm sure the patients could only benefit from everyone being sleep deprived.
Biologist: I work so much I don’t even remember the last time I wasn’t working.
Science Major: huh?
Biologist: I MUST OBSERVE THE CRAB AT ALL TIMES. I OBSERVE THE CRAB EVEN AS WE SPEAK. IF I DO NOT PUBLISH 60 PAPERS ON CRAB BEHAVIOR BY NEXT YEAR MY COLLEAGUES WILL SENSE MY WEAKNESS AND DEVOUR ME ALIVE, LIKE A PACK OF STARVING CRABS
Computer Scientist: Um… I work from home for at most 8 hours a day then play video games
Biologist: *licks lips*
Computer Scientist (Game Dev): I would murder you if I wasn't so... oh there I go- *passes out from exhaustion (hasn't slept or touched grass in five years)*
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old-stoneface · 5 months
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BACK AT IT!
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f1madrid · 2 months
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education is important, but big biceps are importanter or whatever they say.
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new hs history teacher(/basketball coach ofc) steve who is being shown around the school by gym teacher chrissy.
she takes him around the building to show him where the teacher's lounge is, the cafeteria, what bathrooms to avoid at all costs, and to where her office is if he ever needs anything.
"If I'm not here, I'm probably in Robbie's class over in the language department."
"Robbie?"
"Robin, my partner. She officially teaches ASL, but she likes to join in on the others' lessons whenever she has downtime."
Finally, once they've covered the whole length of the school, she brings him to his room. "So this is you, and right next door is Eddie, our Criminalistics teacher." gesturing to the still-dark window of the door directly across from his in the alcove. 
There's polaroids covering nearly every inch of the outside of the door, pictures of what he can only assume are students with the same dark-haired man.
"Criminalistics?"
"It's a science elective," she explains, "It focuses on the basics of forensic science!"
"Wow that’s…really?"
She nods enthusiastically, "It’s super interesting,” she nods, moving to unlock the empty what-will-be history classroom. “Eddie’s here on even days, and in the music room on odd days for the guitar elective classes."
"Anything I should know about my wall neighbor?" he asks as she pushes the door open.
It looks like she's going to say no, but something flickers across her face and she winces minutely.
"Oh god, what is it?"
She looks at him sheepishly, "How do you feel about metal music?"
--
Since his tour in mid June, Steve's completely overhauled his classroom. 
The only room available to him was the one down here in the science hall, but he made do, plastering removable whiteboard contact paper to the tops of the lab tables and a little reminder at each spot for the students about his less-than-stellar hearing, to make sure they speak up when answering a question from the back of the room.
And ever since he got his room, he'd been waiting for the day he finally meets his neighbor.
He met Chrissy's Robbie the same day he had the tour, and they clicked instantly (No seriously, how did he ever function before Robin?). Chrissy had made the comment about them being platonic soulmates one night in August when they'd gone out for one too many drinks, and it's stuck ever since.
Speaking of: "What are you still doing here, dingus? It's almost five."
"Yeah, I know, I know," he says, waving her off.
Robin comes in from the hall and plops herself down on one of the table tops instead of helping him hang a map behind his desk. "You're still adding stuff to your walls?"
"Well, I haven't been here for a couple years already, Bobs," he grits out as he stretches up on his toes to hang the far corner of his map. Finally, the eyelet hooks over the many-times-painted-over hook embedded in the concrete wall. "So yes."
"Well you can finish up tomorrow, we," she emphasizes the word by dramatically waving the same sign with her hand between them, "Have a burger date to get to." 
--
The following day, the day before the school year officially starts, Steve arrives early to his classroom, only to find his neighbor's classroom lit up as well.
The be-polaroided door is propped open all the way, the sound of heavy drums and guitar streaming out the door along with the faint smell of moth balls and a spicy incense.
His own room forgotten, Steve steps through Mr. Munson's doorway.
Eddie is standing behind his desk at the front of the room, but hunched over it scribbling onto something.
When Steve's shoe squeaks against the tile floor, Eddie says "Hey, what do you think, identifying skeletal remains, or blood spatter first?" without looking up at him.
"Skeletons, of course." Eddie's head snaps up to look at him. His huge dark eyes are much more striking in person than in a photo. "Much more interesting, yeah?"
Eddie blinks at him. "You're not Chrissy."
"You're correct."
Eddie blinks again, "Who're you?"
"Oh, sorry, hi. I'm Steve. I'm your new neighbor." he gives the other man an awkward wave when he still doesn't move. "Sorry, should I--" he says, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb.
"No!" Eddie interrupts, standing straight and hurrying out from around his desk. 
He extends a hand and jogs lightly up to Steve. His pen is still laced into his fingers, the end of it chewed flat. "Oh shit, sorry, sorry," he tucks the pen behind his ear, "I'm Eddie. Munson."
"I know," Steve smirks, taking Eddie's hand. "I've been waiting to meet you."
"Oh have you?" he smirks.
"Yeah, Chrissy told me you're her best friend and I wanted your advice on maybe asking her out."
Eddie's face hardens immediately, the warm milk chocolate of his eyes curing into a solid dark, the easy smirk morphing into a cringe as he looks Steve up and down.
He opens his mouth to say something particularly scathing, Steve's sure, but he cuts him off before he can. "I'm kidding, man, I know she's with Robin."
His expression softens just a bit.
"Plus, she's not really my type anyway, even if I were hers."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I'm more into brunettes." Steve winks, finally releasing Eddie's hand. "I still have a bit more to get done, but I'll check in with you later?"
"Oh--yeah, for sure, I'll be here." Eddie stammers out, his cheeks tinged pink.
Steve fist pumps in his head as he heads to his door, You still got it, Harrington.
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acatalystrising · 4 months
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It’s officially been three years since THAT SCENE and I think all the Boba simps had their brain chemistry altered. Mine included. 🫡
This scene has borne so much smutty filth and I will not apologize…
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sunnysideupsciart · 8 months
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Do you know that a 3000-year-old honey was still edible? Does honey ever spoil?
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sic-vita · 2 years
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The Sandman | Morpheus + ways to say “I (still) love you”
"you came”/ “you called”
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damthosefandoms · 4 months
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every week we have to wait between new pjo episodes is like reliving the year between mark of athena and house of hades. except this time we’re ten years older and still haven’t forgiven rick for that author’s note💙
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canon-gabriel-quotes · 4 months
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M-Machine, stop looking at my... tch. What if the council notices? Kuh.
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weirdfishy · 9 months
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gotta urgent need for some not-quite-yet punkflower where hobie is chillin in some rubble post-(successful) battle all knackered out n miles is visiting (idk bc he just told his parents abt spiderman n it went well so he's bursting at the seems with love at being accepted n all yea? he's gotta tell someone, and why not him? why not hobie? it's no one else but hobie he's gotta tell, if he's being honest with himself [denile is not a river in his egypt, ok pav?] so yeah, he finds himself on 138) n catches the tail end of the battle, tracks down where hobie decided to make a couch outta concrete and lands in front of him, buzzing with cheezy lovey dovey feelins of elation, top o' the fucken world, and asks on abt hobie, rambling until hobie just lifts a hand, a silent ask for help up, (always asking for connection always makin sure they're actually there) n miles, have i mentioned he's happy? he's straight up a sap, so he takes that hand.
he takes that hand gently, bending at the waist a bit, dramatically sweeping back his other arm, bowing, for hell's sake, n plants a kiss on the back of hobie's hand, nice n proper, with a cheeky wink to boot (he'd finally fixed the eye mechanisms last week, thanks to penny), before pulling up new london's own spiderman chest to chest with a bright laugh that puts a different kind of stars in hobie's eyes, half dancing half belting out a song in spanish he doesn't quite understand but knows all the words to (it's some continental dialect, nothing his mami speaks, but would filter out the headphones of that kid in his building he walked w in middle school everyday)
before the sirens start getting closer n hobie can feel the warmth of miles-- the warmth of his smile, his hair that's still sparking from transdimensional travel, his arms, chest, laughter, everything, n all at once it pulls every affectionate n pining bit of hobie to the surface, if he weren't wearing his mask his blush would be so impossibly visible it's straight mad how much hobie loves n adores miles, how much seeing miles be happy lights hobie's whole fucking world
and oh, hobie's never seen a god he didn't punch, never believed in any one he couldn't, but right now, with his fingers entwined with miles', aches leaving his bones like he's never felt his left shoulder twinge the second it drops below 21 just because miles just yelled fuck off to the approaching pigs, he could fall to his knees n swear pious fealty to milesmilesmiles.
but hobie is cool (never has a label stuck to him like the one miles has given him), and his real, livin n breathing god is starting to ramble, so hobie webs them upupup, heat along his back as god wraps arms around him, breath on his neck as home weaves tales into the leather wrapping it.
then miles hears hobie's stomach growl, so he starts pulling them away from the path of what he knows is towards hobie's flat, and towards what he swears is the only good puerto rican food in the whole of hobie's haunt, his excitement steamrolling over his usual stuttering spanish, exchanging shouts n jeers with everyone behind the counter
bc everyone knows him, like miles has lived here, earth-138, new london, his whole life, like hobie brown being dragged into the shop every other week by miles morales to get the same two plates (n an extra something for miles to gush over n hobie to taste) is how the rest of this life will go, like hobie n miles are together, in a way that the unsubtle looks the owner's kid at the register is aiming at miles' left hand are correct, but don't involve stuffy socially religious systems like marriage
but they're not, as much as hobie would love to kiss miles, gaze into his eyes for ages, hear his laughter, his off-key singing, his scritch-scritch of something on paper everyday-- bc he can't go abt this like he does everyone else, can't do it with half a foot out the door n a shrug as agreed; it's gotta be both feet on the floor, n it's gotta be for the rest of this life, so he'll take what he can get, and he'll take the distance n devotion, take the faith n the heartache. take what he can get from his god, glad to be touched by his god, glad to be loved by his god, across universes n the fall from his bed to the futon on the floor where miles decides to lay his head for choice holy nights
(hobie doesn't know miles is putting himself at the base of his god's shrine, hoping for his deity to fall into his arms, spikes n all, (ready, so ready to tear apart dimensions again for hobie, to bleed and cry n go to war for hobie) fingers splaying on the side of the mattress warmwarmwarm after hobie starts snoring, before they slip down softly, a prayer imparting from the pads, memorizing the patterns of his god's breath, the smell of the room, the borrowed shirt he wears, the sounds of a second city he calls home, thrumming full with a bass note plucked from an electric guitar, usually shaky hands sure n still picking out a different shape to hobie's eyebrow piercing, deftly screwing a star onto the bar. miles brings offerings to his god in pins n patches on clothing, stickers n torn out sketches decorating a shrine)
so they'll song n dance in new york, in new london; learning each other's cities, earths, haunts, people, arts, each other, like new scars for the collection- permanent and signs of living, odes to loving and protecting.
chest to chest, fingers entwined, warmth in the skies above cities, right on the edge of it all until they fall together, eyes wide open, gods broken down into blood and teeth and lovelovelove
not-quite-yet 2 - 3
. my ko-fi 💛
ao3 link
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nerdymemes · 4 months
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spacesourcx · 11 months
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Ben and Saanvi
in MANIFEST S4 final season (2023)
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royalarchivist · 5 months
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Quackity: Someone who I really wish would play a little more is– I'm going to say it: it's Luzu. Because Luzu – I was in a past server with Luzu called Karmaland, which Vegetta owns – and we did some crazy ass stories. [...] I would definitely love to do more stuff with Luzu, you know? [...] His thing is the time zones, though. Which makes sense, 'cuz he's like 60.
Foolish: Is he more of an early bird?
Quackity: No, he's like 60. He's 60. He sleeps early, wakes up early. That kind of like, BS. He's like, "Oh, I have a kid to take care of." It's like, "So?"
Foolish: Tell the kid to grow up!
Quackity: That's like a hobby. [Laughs] That's like a hobby, bro, that's like fcking–
Foolish: Just kick the kid out.
Quackity: Hey, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If you told Ollie [Luzu's son] to fcking– to just grow up, he would.
[ Full transcript ↓ ]
Quackity: Someone who I really wish would play a little more is– I'm going to say it: it's Luzu. Because Luzu – I was in a past server with Luzu called Karmaland, which Vegetta owns – and we did some crazy ass stories because– Ok, so the thing with Karmaland and the problem with Karmaland was that every.
Foolish: The problem with Karmaland!
Quackity: –was that everyone were Spaniards. Everyone was Spaniards. Everyone from Spain, they all had Spain timezone.
Foolish: And that's a problem
Quackity: So I would always start streaming at, like, 5 pm, and all the people from Spain would be asleep. Everyone from Spain would be asleep. So, it was just me doing content, and occasionally, it'd be with Luzu, and I miss that a lot. You know, Luzu– the reason he doesn't play on QSMP as much is because of timezone, so that is literal fcking revenge. That is revenge because Luzu had a fun time being Spaniard and making sure that when I connected late times in Karmaland, there would be no one! Well, guess now– guess what now, Luzu? You wake up at fcking six in the morning– [in a sad crying voice] –and if you ever want to come back, I'll fcking log in for you. No, I'm kidding. But I think- I think– no, I would definitely love to do more stuff with Luzu, you know?
Foolish: Yeah.
Tina: I wanna meet him.
Quackity: His thing is the time zones, though. Which makes sense, 'cuz he's like 60.
Foolish: Is he more of an early bird?
Quackity: No, he's like 60. He's 60. He sleeps early, wakes up early. That kind of like, bullsht. He's like, "Oh, I have a kid to take care of." It's like, "So?"
Foolish: Tell the kid to grow up!
Quackity: That's like a hobby. [Laughs] That's like a hobby, bro, that's like fcking–
Foolish: Just kick the kid out.
Quackity: Hey, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If you told Ollie [Luzu's son] to fcking– to just grow up, he would.
Foolish: Yeah, absolutely.
Quackity: That's a horrible question. That really hurt my feelings. OK, Foolish: you have to ask a question now.
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