#and the stern look
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
the-eyes-of-andyserkis · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
27 notes · View notes
eirakairos · 19 days ago
Text
Honestly, in the depths of my brain cell, Sylus does have the vibes of Mads Mikkelsen lol
2 notes · View notes
carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
Text
while we wait.
Tumblr media
may i offer you all a pubby?? lil bby barns?
16K notes · View notes
stardayzzing · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
[Apollo]
Not insanely neat (Im so serious I just hate clean lineart/anatomy at this rate) but yall haven't seen Apollo fully grown in my design so here he is!!
He does grow into the solar flare-ish wisps (that Helios also has!) Because you see in the old piece that he doesn't have any, just curls!!
There's some other easter eggs but I'll let yall find them (or not)
418 notes · View notes
athousandyearstime · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You foul fiend! In league with the forces of darkness!
GOOD OMENS 1.04 ✧ Saturday Morning Funtime
2K notes · View notes
pocketgalaxies · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Do you want to hold a hand, Laudna? Uh, I'll be al–maybe. Maybe.
441 notes · View notes
divineandmajesticinone · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
LET FREE THE CURSE OF TAEKWONDO I EP. 04 Are you okay? No, I'm not.
244 notes · View notes
captain-flint · 13 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lou Ferrigno Jr. as Tim McNulty in Rush: Inspired by Battlefield (2016)
349 notes · View notes
soulspark · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
die sterne
935 notes · View notes
ghost-bxrd · 14 days ago
Text
Prompt:
Jason drinks alcohol for the first time ever post resurrection and makes some questionable choices in the form of plastered phone calls and worrisome messages/voicemails.
He wakes up the next morning to at least ten missed calls and dozens of panicked text messages.
279 notes · View notes
laswells-ashtray · 10 days ago
Text
John never thinks too hard about his childhood, he thinks he's past it. Drunken dad who died when he was a teen, mum who died the day he was born. No point wasting time on that and he thinks he's outgrown that point in his life. Maybe Dad was a bit heavy-handed with the belt but that was more acceptable back then, no need to fuss, and when he compares it to the stories Simon let slip when they both went a little too hard with the drink, he has nothing to complain about.
He never shares any family stories, yeah, Soap will share a story about how he was named after his dad and it sparks a conversation, Kyle will explain the origin of his name proudly, Simon will offer a sparse answer and none of them will ask for any further context. John will offer some half-assed explanation about being named after his old man's old man, someone he never met and never thinks about. Kyle asks him about his mother with a gentleness that can only mean he's noticed that John never talks about her, he offers the classic "never knew her" and it isn't a lie. It isn't. Because he didn't know her, she left earth the same day he made his appearance on it, the value of his life has always been at the cost of another, it's why he makes such a good captain. And he's sick of hearing "oh, I'm sorry" whenever he mentions that he's dead. He's a grown man, he can only hear so many apologies before they become just pointless words that hold no value.
So, it doesn't bother him. Two people he knew are dead, they started the list of countless other names that he doesn't bother thinking about.
And then he comes back from a mission one day, it was a shitshow. Nothing went to plan because their intel was fucked and everyone is frustrated. Ghost had to get stitches in a wound on his arm, isn't the end of the world but it was avoidable. Gaz, the poor fucker is concussed and Soap has the fun job of waking him up every two hours to check on him, a job he was assigned by a medic after they pulled the glass out of his hand. John is almost certain his ankle is sprained, his entire body is a bruise, he lost a good fucking cigar and he snapped at Laswell over comms so he owes an apology that he's planning in advance.
He wants Nik, it might be juvenile but he's tired in a way he can feel in his bones and he wants his pilot.
He finds Nik, he doesn't have to say anything as they head back to his room. Nik knows, Nik always knows. There's the briefest of exchanges as he strips out of his kit and he heads to the shower with the slightest relief knowing that his night is going to end in lazy sex and being stuck under the warm blanket of the Russian bear of a man.
He walks out with damp hair in a pair of boxers and socks because the floor is fucking cold with the constant draft and all but collapses face-first onto his bed. He'll offer Nik a murmured apology later for being selfish but he just isn't sure he can form the words right now.
He can hear Nik kicking off his boots behind him with little care as to where they land, it's a familiar sound from nights like this. He's as relaxed as he's going to get until he hears it, the sound of someone fumbling with their belt buckle. For years it's been just a noise but for the briefest of moments he tenses up in preparation, shoulders raised instinctively to try and block the leather from catching the back of his neck. He's not sure if he's breathing and he can smell whisky, the old fucker must've lobbed the bottle at the wall again and the last dredges of Johnnie Walker red label are soaking into the carpet again. If he doesn't remember to clean it before he goes up to bed then he's fucked, the old drunk will wring his fucking neck just like last time when he-
"John?" The hand on his back is warm as it lands between his shoulder blades, it should be comforting and he should relax into it. He doesn't. He's ashamed of the way he flinches, kicking out a leg as he tries to push himself up the bed and away from it hits him. It's Nikolai. The hand belongs to Nik.
He turns to face the other man, lying on his side and propped up with an elbow. He isn't sure if the sheer mortification he feels is obvious, or the tremors in his hands. He hasn't reacted like that since he was a boy.
"Fuck, Nik. Sorry, just lost in my own fucking head- Sorry, give me a sec and we can get to it." It's humiliating, he's the one who asked for sex and a fucking belt sends him over the edge.
"No, no `getting to it`. We shall continue another night." And there he's gone and done it, his fucking inability to keep his composure has just put a dampener on their sex life.
The cautious way Nikolai reaches out for him hurts, he's being treated like some scared animal. The large hand on his shoulder does act as a source of comfort when he knows who's behind it. "John, перестань. Talk to me, captain."
"I don't- I don't know, just give me a moment." How long can he spend pleading for just a little more time before Nikolai gets sick of it.
"The belt."
He looks up at the Russian with wide eyes, mouth open as he tries to form a denial of some kind, waiting for words that won't form.
Nikolai stares down at him with a look so gentle he has to look away, he can hear the faint sigh of resignation and the following mutter of something Russian that he isn't paying enough attention to in order to translate it in his head.
He sits in silence as the other man joins him in the bed, leaving a gap between that and offering John the chance to cross it on his own time. He shifts over and plaster himself against his partner's side, face buried in his neck.
"I assumed the scars down your back were from torture, just not the military kind."
"From years ago, don't matter much now do they? Taken a lot worse than a belt since then." His body was covered in scars of varying sizes, from anywhere to the scar on his hand from slicing a bagel to the silver band wrapped around part of his left thigh from a bastard with a blade that damn near nicked an artery. He'd stuck that poor sod's blade through his own throat and left him to gurgle on his blood.
"I assume your father is dead?" The fact that Nikolai sounds hopeful isn't lost on him.
"Drank himself into oblivion years ago." John had always thought it would've been his liver that did him in, would've bet money on it. Would've lost too. The old man had asphyxiated on his own vomit, silly prick.
"Good."
168 notes · View notes
butdaddyilovehimmm · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SUITS 1.02
The "Look at me" scene in all its glory.
306 notes · View notes
kari-sims · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ruby the Headmaster and her beloved dog Teacup 🔮🍵 sim 9/9 from my girls only occult orphanage.
(cute bulldog by @gerbits on the gallery, thank you!)
136 notes · View notes
rainbow-sunshine-unicorn · 4 months ago
Text
Francesca saw John struggling with Anthony and immediately decided that his second try will be when Anthony is on easy mode (aka with Kate next to him)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
190 notes · View notes
oliveo-il · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
He’s on thin ice folks
759 notes · View notes
holmsister · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Just these two panels for my own personal viewing pleasure
268 notes · View notes