#I am so feral for them

[typicalopposite]

Everyone talks about Henry’s micro expressions and stuff but loooook at Alex!!!

That baby was nerrrvousss

Did you see the jaw clench?!?

And then hereeeee! How he keeps checking for Henry’s reaction 😭😭😭💕💕💕💕

.

.

.

Also Henry’s damn knee! Out here jump-scaring me when I thought I cropped it out ☠️😮‍💨

[aracnidaarmagedon]

Every day I suffer because I know that when Wilbur comes back we will get the angstiest and gayest tntduo interactions. We will not recover.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

time loop fics time loop fics time travel fics right person wrong time right person not enough time time travel time loop time loop time loop gnashing my teeth and slamming my fists down on the non-present counter sending my love to every fanfic author who writes these tropes because you literally fuel my existence there would be a big hollow nothingness in my heart without these i would die for them again and again and again and again and—

[lillotte17]

I have been in the solavellan fandom for...A While. (do not count the years, i beg) and everyone has their tropes and themes re: wolves/halla and hunter/prey and the New Herald being worshiped/the Old God nearly forgotten, and tbh I like bits and pieces of all of them, but like...

For me, the most compelling story is that Lavellan is just Some Guy (gn).

They meet Solas and accept that he is like them. He's an elf. One of The People. You are like me. I am like you. We are The Same People. And because of that, I will protect you with whatever power the humans around us have given me, because I know this is not the safest place for either of us.

And it just fucking... gets him, right? Because that's his whole deal. The world is broken because the people aren't People. He's not like them. They're not like him.

I just love the idea that this impossibly old, incredibly powerful sort-of-god, trips into a hole and nearly throws his entire game away because a regular person (albeit one who was thrust into extraordinary circumstances) decided to be kind. Offered him protection and friendship. Asked him to tell them stories. Grieved with him when he lost one of his oldest friends.

He could not deny that they were a person, because they treated him like a person.

I love how ordinary that is. How simple. How devastating.

'You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't.'

[puppetmaster13u]

Who wants a prompt entirely in memes.

[stardink]

"Loop. The tax benefits if we get bonded. Think about it, Loop pleASE-"

Ref:

[slytherinslut0]

yes, your honour, i know hes bad. i know hes evil. i know hes borderline vile.

but trust me, your honor, i can fix him.

source: my female intuition

[sciderman]

avenging spider-man #13

[ohhhmio]

Saw a tiktok yesterday of someone making like children au of hazbin hotel characters. AND I THE FIRST BITCH I SAW WAS BRUTUS.

AND I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH BUT MY GOD HES SO FINE.

I mean look at him.

LOOK. AT. HIM.

I WOULD FLIP FOR THIS MAN.

I mean, my god, i knew i was a whore but i didnt know it was to this extent.

HOLY CALAMARI—

Then, and I kid you not, these two appear on screen:

So naturally, I go haywire. Everything in me is buzzing, my head was vibrating, and hands were burning, baby.

Hoe-Lee-Shitaroos—

It would only make sense that I go on detective mode and check out who this bitch who made them is.

And I do.

And you know what I see?

EBSIENSG2OZGWJSY2HSG2BSW

Absolute Heaven.

Holy lord god of host—

10/10. Would smash if he didn't literally eat me alive.

You thought you were a whore? Well, THINK AGAIN YOU COCK-GURGLING SON OF A BITCH.

Ughhhhh.

I... am so angry this isn't cannon.

Fuck.

Follow her.

FOLLOW HER NOW.

[daughter-lilith]

Please, why am I several playthroughs in and only now had the urge to pay enough attention to capture Halsin's face flooded with pleasure & desire... the eye contact, the mouth hanging open... hello?

[utane]

People on tweeter seemed to enjoy this wip it's a 2 year old sketch I'm using to practice :d

[twin-yards]

it is completely one hundred percent baffling to me that any of the foxes would come away from witnessing neil and andrew's reunion in baltimore with the opinion that their relationship was just hate fucking . like my brother in christ are you blind

[notthesaint]

I am so lazy and tired to draw that i used my old art and edited it to explain my horrible idea

I would like to imagine that the infection made nosk horribly drunk and beguiled it's mind which made it think that its own reflection from the pale ore is a potential mate

It explains why the pale ore is in nosk's lair, so basically you killed this poor spider and stole its wife. In my conclusion nosk x pale ore is indeed canon 🪨🤘

"Yes this is a potential mate, I will offer this stalking devout I killed earlier as a gift of my love" **points to a shiny rock**

**sees dirtcraver next to pale ore 6 meters away** "IF YOU TOUCH MY WIFR I WILL KILL YOU AND EAT YOU ALIVE SKREEEEEE"

[s0fter-sin]

the 141 recovering brainwashed!soap but he’s just a shell of his former self; never speaking, never moving without orders. he never even blinks; just stares straight ahead with his unnatural green eyes.

empty.

but ghost can't accept that.

price and gaz can't stand watching ghost torture himself day after day; visiting soap in his cell for hours at a time, trying anything he can think of to bring back his sergeant.

he shows him pictures of the 141 but soap thinks he's being given targets and moves to eliminate them before ghost stops him. he brings him his journal, tries to trigger his innermost thoughts and feelings he never shared with any of them, but after he reads it, soap summarises it like he's giving a mission briefing. impersonal.

cold.

it's late when ghost finally calls it; low and defeated after another long day of being stared at with eyes that don't see him. he isn't thinking when he pulls his mask off and harshly scrubs over his face, grinding his palm into his eye.

"don't worry, johnny; we're still fixin' each other's problems," he promises, little more than a whisper as he tries to summon the energy to leave johnny behind. again.

he pushes himself to his feet, his hand on the door handle when-

"what's my problem?"

ghost freezes, something like grief - something achingly closer to hope - chilling him. he slowly turns and though soap is still starring ahead, there's a faint light in his altered green eyes.

"the mask," he forces out. "take it off."

he knows there's no way to remove the mask - the muzzle - from his sergeant's face. it's too high-tech, even for them; the biometric scanner too advanced for any bypass they know of.

it's just another way he's failed him; bringing him home still bound in their enemy's chains.

soap- jolts; a sharp, almost painful looking flinch jerking his body.

"show my face?" and his voice has changed; no longer the monotone delivery that's haunted ghost's every waking moment.

it's smaller. uncertain. recollection of a memory half-destroyed.

"yes, johnny," he breathes.

soap moves unprompted for the first time since they found him; running his finger along the edge of the muzzle where his skin bulges from the pressure, half-visible scars hidden beneath the harsh metal.

"ugly," he murmurs.

ghost immediately shakes his head, almost stumbling back to the table; haphazardly throwing his mask on it. "quite the opposite," he insists.

it doesn't matter if he has no lower jaw left at all; johnny could never be ugly in his eyes.

agonisingly slowly, soap's eyes shift to the mask. he takes in the balaclava and hard shell skull like for all the times he's looked at it since his rescue, he never truly saw it. his lids fall in less of a blink and more stage curtains closing; slow, heavy, requiring effort and no small amount of strength to open once more

"good... to see you again..." he trails off, his hand shifting up to the top of his shaved head; nails digging unforgivingly into his scalp

"simon," ghost finishes for him; that horrid grieving hope tearing at his heart

soap's fingers flex and a drop of blood trails down his forehead, over the ridge of his nose to catch on the muzzle. "s-simon..."

his nails dig deeper, the drop falling to the table just to be followed by more and ghost aches to stop him but he's terrified to interrupt him. terrified to lose him now when he's so close to something.

soap's bloodied nails scratch down the crown of his head, following the line of his stolen mohawk until they come to rest on the back of the muzzle and ghost's heart drops.

they can’t get it off.

they can't get it off and he doesn't know how to explain that to soap; doesn't know if he can stomach watching soap pull at the monstrosity holding him captive, the inevitable bloodbath as the edges cut into his skin.

"show my face," soap repeats.

"johnny..." ghost begins weakly, reaching out to him but he doesn't know how, doesn't know if he even should-

the muzzle clatters onto the table.

the biometrics they couldn't bypass, the fingerprint they needed that they were so sure belonged to makarov.

it belonged to soap.

how cruel to torture him with freedom he didn't understand he could take; didn't even understand he could want.

just the kind of sick game makarov loves.

ghost doesn't know what's louder; his heart pounding in his ears or the long, uninhibited breath soap takes.

his eyes fall shut as he leans his head back with it, the blood still dripping down his face as he straightens through his exhale. his lower jaw is a mess of scars where he fought against the previous iterations of the muzzle, the corners of his lips cut through and cracked.

but the green in his eyes is duller; that light sparking brighter as blue struggles to break through the glow.

ghost's never seen anything so beautiful.

"good to see you again, johnny."

[deoidesign]

47 episodes later

I am completely normal

(webcomic)

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 118

Everyone is freaking out. The titan tower was broken into, no signs of who it was, and Tim- Robin- is missing. There’s blood on the walls, taunting them, implying that Tim is going through agony, and they can’t deal with another dead Robin, they can’t- 

Meanwhile Tim is bemused, maybe a little concussed because that would explain things maybe, as he’s found himself in a living room full of books and there’s a pair of kids too? One is straight up adoption bait- wait no there’s three, with two of them being adoption bait and the third being a redhead. There’s a trio of small children there already playing by the couch he’s been bundled into. 

Where the heck is his mask- or his bo staff or any of his supplies- is that the fucking Red Hood?! No, couldn’t be, must be the concussion, because why would the Red Hood be feeding him a bowl of soup?