#FUCK YOU THE JETS!!!!

[get-hockeyed-idiot]

GETTEM BRETT

[nine-aetharia]

i need swifties to shut the fuck up about 'oh so kendrick's disses can be analyzed for hidden meanings but we can't do the same for taylor songs' yeah bc that's not isolated to kendrick. subliminals and entendres abound in rap. taylor swift songs are as deep as a puddle while youre wearing flip flops and your feet still arent wet

[candle-scm]

my takeaway from natla is that og atla zuko is hot topic flavored gay and natla zuko is barbie flavored gay

[vintageskeletons]

that scene in spy x family when anya punched damian but it's sokka and jet from risking it all by @ssreeder

[larrylimericks]

15Jun24

Some your-names said Louis’s a slag; In Mexico, gave him a shag. Ten or more touched the sky! He sparked up to reply: Fuck your rumors and also jet lag.

[arkhammaid]

literally scenes from a top gun movie oh my god

[roundhousekickingheight]

everyone’s favorite cartoon character

[fantasykiri5]

Oh Jesus I thought that it was Athena who was beating the shit out of Poseidon, like she appeared and started whacking him, but it was ODYSSEUS FUCKING TORTURING HIM??? WITH HIS OWN TRIDENT??? WHAT THE FUCK DUDE

[spacedace]

Had an idea, thought I'd make it a prompt, 3k+ words later realized this wasn't a prompt anymore but a ficlet 🙃

Anyway, here's the first almost 2k of Talia being a good parent and deciding to not go with either Bruce or Ra's and go off and do her own thing and raise Damian and oops she got attached to Jason while checking in on Bruce and saved him from dying in Ethiopia. & now has 2 sons lol

-

When her Beloved and her father demanded Talia make a choice, of who she would choose, she didn't hesitate.

She chose neither of them. She chose her child. She chose herself.

Outwitting both Ra's al Ghul and Batman was no simple feat. They were both brilliant, relentless and with endless resources at their command. It was why their clashes were as devastating as they were. Immovable objects and unstoppable forces the both of them. If there was something they wanted, it was something they would have.

But not her.

They would not have her.

She had her own networks, her own people, her own keen intelligence and sharp cunning. It took time - time she really didn't have - and a great deal of pain and loss, but she slipped them eventually. Shrugged off the shroud of who she had been - who she was made to be - and stepped confidently into her new life.

Her son was born nine days after her freedom had finally, fully been assured.

He was small and perfect in every way. Soft and warm cradled close to her chest, unblemished by the cruelty of the world as he slept soundly in her arms. Even as exhausted as she was after such a long labor, she couldn't bring herself to sleep. Her attention narrowed down entirely on his every quiet breath, his downy soft hair, his round peaceful face.

In the weeks that followed his eyes would shift and change from a newborn's blue to her own green. It would take years before she could know if he inherited any of his father's features, but that was fine. He was hers and hers alone.

She named him Damian.

In another life she would name him with her father in mind. That her son would rise as Heir to the Demon and conquer the world. That he'd stand as ruler of all.

In this one, she named him with hope in her heart that what he would master was his own life. That he would never be forced to bow to the will of anyone else. To be made to act as servant or puppet. Let him tame his fate into something good and kind and happy.

She did her best to give him the life he deserved.

Lavished him with all her love and affection. Gave him everything he could ever want or need. The friends she began making for herself - not just trusted allies, but friends - laughed that she would spoil him rotten. It was probably true, but she didn't have it in her to care.

Her son would have the childhood he would have been denied if raised raised in the home of either of their fathers. Her father would have demand harsh lessons and frightened obedience and impossible standards. Damian's would have tried - she knew her Beloved would have tried - but his heart would always be for his city first and all else, even his children, second.

Talia kept tabs on both of them, covertly. Ensured she always kept a healthy distance from anything that involved her father or his people. Gathered stories of her Beloved's exploits to share with her son when he was old enough to hear them.

It gave her insight on just what choosing her Beloved would have meant. Reassured her that while not choosing her father had been the right choice, choosing her Beloved would have been the wrong one.

Bruce Wayne was a good man. Brilliant and driven with his kind heart and admirable goals. Breathtaking in his skill and ability.

Disappointing in his parenting skills.

Talia knew she was lacking as a parent herself. That her own upbringing had left its scars and that try as she might she'd undoubtedly end up doing the same to her own child over the years. But she always pushed herself hard towards improving, in making herself better for the tiny boy that she loved more than anything else. And she felt satisfied that in the very least that when presented with options on how her and her son's life would be, she'd made the one that was best for Damian.

Not the life of an assassin or a vigilante, but the life of a child.

A child who was taught some of the skills of both the worlds she'd turned her back on, admittedly, but only ever for his own protection. Damian was safer knowing how to hide, how to escape, how to fight. She had done her best, but there was always the looming threat that they might be found one day. She needed to be sure he was ready, if that time ever come.

She didn't teach him the way she was taught.

When her son fumbled or failed she gently corrected him. Walked him through what he'd done wrong, how he could improve. Made a game out of the experience so that he came running up to her on toddling feet with bright eyes begging that they have a lesson. His excitement and delight in it all made him a better student then her fear and desperate need for her father's approval and affection.

There was a day she caught sight of him, all of four years old, tiny face scrunched in a look of concentration as he practiced the form she'd taught him the day before with his small, wooden practice sword. Some of his father's features lingered at the edges of his face, but he'd deepened his resemblance to her by picking up her mannerisms and expressions. Her son, going through the same steps and motions she had when she'd been his age, little body wobbling as he turned to fast before plopping on the ground with a tiny oof.

Talia had small silver scars on the back of her hands, so thin and so old as to nearly be invisible anymore. They burned all the same as she recalled herself stumbling in nearly the same way. Stomach churning as she remembered the terror she'd felt as her instructor had snatched her up by her hair and drug her over to a low table, holding her hands in place with a massive hand. The way she'd bit her lip hard enough that her mouth filled with blood as he struck her with the thin lash, knowing that if she cried the punishment would be all the worse.

Damian only blinked his big green eyes and scowled the same way she did whenever something of minor importance didn't go the way she wanted it to. Then he saw her standing there in the doorway watching him and his face lit up, bright as the son and just as beautiful as he jumped to his feet and darted over to her. Tiny hand clinging to the loose fabric of her pant leg as he begged her show me again Mama!

It was moments like that where she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt she'd made the right choice.

Her father would have broken her brilliant, kind hearted son. Would have done to him what was done to her to forge Damian into a weapon.

Her beloved...

He would never hurt her son like that. Not the way her father and his loyal followers would. But she couldn't ignore the fact that Damian would still be hurt all the same under his father's tutelage.

Talia knew the man she loved well. Adored his strengths, but was not blind to his flaws. He kept his heart well guarded, hidden behind imposing walls of silence and razor wire of words he didn't truly mean. Still kind, but horribly distant when it came to those he cared for most. It shielded him some, perhaps, but it left those who loved him feeling lost and alone.

She saw how Dick Grayson had grown over the years. Tall and clever and lonely and bitter. Fighting for independence, for acknowledgement, for his father to speak words of love and respect. Things Bruce felt but almost never said unless he thought things were dire.

She saw too how the heavy weight of her Beloved's priorities weighed up on his second son.

Young Jason Todd who saw magic in the harsh world he'd been drawn into and desired to be the protection for others that he never had growing up. She saw much of herself in him, though he faced the world with far more hope than she had at his age. He was a bright boy with a good heart that had weathered a harsh upbringing that Talia could sympathize with. There was a familiar anger in him too, broiling just beneath the surface, flaring up and burning him as much as everyone else when triggered.

Most of all though Talia could see the desperate loneliness that had marred her own life in the boy. The soul deep fear of abandonment. The painful desire for love from a father that always seemed to stay at arm's length who spoke rarely of affection and often of missions to be completed.

She kept a close eye on her Beloved's second Robin.

When he left for Ethiopia, searching for family in a stranger that had already given him up, she'd followed.

Jason only ever wanted family and love. A good boy, bright and fierce and brave. A boy Talia saw a lot of herself in, who faced the world with such determined brightness in spite of the pain and hardship he'd known.

Shelia Haywood took that boy that Talia had grown so fond of, took his trust and his love and crushed it beneath her heel. Callously handed him over to the Joker without a second thought. As if he was disposable, as if he was nothing more than a puppet to use and toss away when it suited her.

Talia had risked everything when she'd decided she would not choose either her father or her Beloved. She'd turned her back on her entire life, everything that had ever been and ever could be on either side. She spent months running, hiding, fighting and killing, in orchestrating a plan that could outwit and outmaneuver the two most brilliant men she knew. And she'd done it all so that her son could live free, as master of his own life.

Jason Todd had come to Ethiopia looking for a mother.

Talia, with blood on her hands and a burning warehouse behind her as she carried his broken body to safety, made sure he found one.

[ikrutt]

I don't have a cool gaming rig, so I took Loona out foraging instead.

[jetstarred]

i HATE when people say a statement that IS DELIVERED LIKE A STATMENT THAT THEY BELIEVE. and when you react a certain way theyre like "its a joke its so obvious that was a joke" WHERE??? WHERE IS THE JOKE???

[cl0wnc0ll3ge]

teehee

[mikeyswayy]

@oddvanilla THIS IS UR FUCKING FAULT GUYS DO NOT WATCH THIS MUSIC VIDEO PLEASE!!!!! !!!!! !!!

I DONT WANNA RELIVE THIS I DONT FUCKING WANNA 😭😭😭😭😭

JOHHNIE AT 6:20 IS LITERALLY ME

OH AND AT 7:05 OF THIS VID LOOK AT THE SIDE AND SEE MY CHEM LIVE ON SNL 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

LITERALLY ME WATCHING THAT MUSIC VID THO:

[starboysbrainrot]

“so happy the gaang got their happy ending”

what mf happy ending are we talking about exactly ?

you mean the happy ending where aang gets to live forever with the constant reminder that he is alone, that the genocide of his people happened and there is no going back ? where he has the responsibility to assure that the air nation doesn’t die off with him after his death ? where he has to forever live with the fact that he disappeared for 100 years and that the world he lives in now isn’t his. he’s a relic of the past, the testament of a forgotten culture, the last remaining of what is left of the air nomads. he’s alone, forever, at least a part of it died with his people, forever lost.

or you mean the happy ending where Katara & Sokka go back to their tribe, scarred forever by war and loss, having to rebuild the southern water tribe after 100 years of war ? having to rebuild their culture, forcefully destroyed by the fire nation ? forever living with the urge to cradle in their mother’s arms, but never quite being able to do it. Katara will forever see her mother in her brother, his face, his eyes, everything reminding her of Kya, and how she misses her. and Sokka being unable to remember his mother’s face, always ending up picturing Katara instead. even with their dad on their side, Kya will always be missing. no amount of hope, love, and support will grow them a new mother.

or you mean the happy ending where Toph goes back to her toxic parents that really couldn’t care less for who she really is ? and leaving the gaang, the only family she ever really had, who have to take on various missions around the world to rebuild it after the war ? and let’s not forget how scarred and terrified she could be after barely surviving their last battle.

or you mean the happy ending where Suki, after months in prison, simply has to go on with her life as if nothing ever happened ? as if she hadn’t rot in prison for months ? as if she hadn’t experienced the war firsthand by helping the refugees in Ba Sing Se ?

or maybe you mean the happy ending where Zuko, after living a childhood made of lies, abuse, neglect and grief, has to become fire lord at 16, with no idea on what he is doing ? after having half his face burned by his own father, for defending his nation, will experience numerous assassination attempts as a new ruler and have to rebuild the whole world because of the wrongdoings of his ancestors ? his hands are tainted red by blood that his swords didn’t shed, but the crown on his head now is his, and that’s all that matters in everyone’s eyes. that’s all that will always matter.

or maybe you mean all those other kids, that the gaang met during the series.

characters like Haru, who saw his dad being imprisoned, fearing for his life and the life of his mother everyday.

character like the freedom fighters, orphans, who had to become child soldiers in order to survive, who built a family around the hope that they were doing something right. only for it to be washed out by the destroying of a village, and the splitting up of their group.

characters like Jet, who never even got to see a life after the war, who was born in a world scarred by flames and loss, forced to become a parental figure to dozens of orphans, and who died by the hands of his very own country, forgotten forever under a lake, among other forgotten bodies.

characters like Mai or Ty Lee, that never really got to choose what they wanted to do, forcefully put into a role maintained by fear and violence. in a world that asked only thing from them : to fight.

characters like Azula, who got her whole life taken away by one cruel man, forced to become a weapon. who’s forever scarred by the way she grew up, by the way no one saved her, no one helped her, by the way she lost her mom and her brother, because of one, very, cruel man.

or Yue, who sacrificed herself for the wrongdoings of yet another man, who never got to experience adulthood, never got to experience the joy of growing up.

y’all can’t even comprehend that they are all DOOMED. they will never have a normal life after the war, never. their whole lives are forever scarred by the mistakes made by thousands of people before they were even born. they are born with tragedy, loss and war in their blood. ALL OF THEM. nothing will ever change that, no matter how good their future could be. even Aang, who was born before the war, was ultimately tainted by the horrors of it. after experiencing, seeing, all the suffering, all the wrongdoings.

they got the weight of the world and the hopes of long gone generations on their shoulders. not a single one of them got to be kids. not a single one of them got to experience a normal childhood. not a single one of them will live freely after the war. some of them won’t even live after the war.

because how. how can you forget, how can you forget 100 years of pain and suffering ?

(I know this all sounds pretty pessimistic but they all make me so, so sad… I love all of these characters so much. all of them. they make me sad in the best way possible and the tragedy of their story will forever make me cry.)

[sixteenthtry]

‼️EXTREMELY IMPORTANT‼️

I HAVE TO CHOOSE AN MCR PICTURE TO PUT ON MY BIRTHDAY CAKE AND I ALREADY HAVE SOME IDEAS BUT I'M OPEN TO OTHERS!

(they must include Gerard, Ray, Frank and Mikey obv and preferably revenge era🙏🏻)

[phillieladybird]

sleeping is just off limits in this phandom.... waking up to seeing the phour leaks feels like im waking up from a coma and the world around me is all on fire