#but obviously that is a headcanon

[arkangelo-7]

I think the scariest part about Batman is the loyalty he inspires. Like this motherfucker has an army of children who might at any given time hate his guts, but are still 100% willing to throw hands for him if Bruce needs them to. And then there’s the Justice League, who also at any given time might hate his guts or find him insanely irritating and/or weird, but will also fall in line and listen to his plans if the need arises. And that’s like the most intense form of power someone can wield—voluntary obedience from people physically more capable than them.

[abyssyby]

sylus finding himself idling— waiting for his order @ a restaurant, sitting in the back of a car otw to a location, held for ransom in an underground cage, u name it— bored out of his mind or with no phone signal so he just kinda sits there and scrolls through his photos app. once empty now just filled with organized folders of your candid & noncandid photos. he loves to sort as much as he loves to hoard, ok, it brings him peace.

simply named albums:

eating 📂 and its photos of you and food, taking a bite. holding out a fork, a spoon, a wrapper, chopsticks of food for him to try with an excited glint in your eye. him feeding you. you grimacing at the odd orders, deciphering if they're good or not. pointing excitedly at food trucks and menus ("let's try that! let's try this!"). your face in a >0< bc your overeager self inhaled something too hot. looking up at him with crumbs on your cheeks, brightcolored dye-stained lips. blurred photos of you trying to kiss him with icing on your lips, reaching out to make a mess of him too.

sleeping 📂 and its you wrapped around his bicep dozed off. you on his chest snoozin. your closed eyes peeking out of the duvet with the slowly coloring sky through the window behind you. you drifting away during a car ride, hand in his, lips slightly parted. cold morning cuddles. selfies of grumpy you in the middle of the night with him in the backdrop hogging the blanket (you sent them to him to see in the morning because you never remember being upset when you wake up). VIDEOS of your sleep talking— and his tiny chuckles and comments ("adorable" as your hiss about ratatouille, smoothing out the crease between your brows with his thumb "grumpy grumpy dove", massaging the joint under your ear as you tense your jaw "mm, might hurt in the morning"). most of the photos are taken from the front camera, often with his cut off fond smile and soft eyes in the corner.

shopping 📂 and its you at the store picking out fruits, sneaking sweets in the cart. your back in a gorgeous outfit as you stare at jewels and protocores in glass. trying out the strangest things to get a chuckle out of him ("whats this now?", "fampire teef"— got him!). at the festivals holding up two lanterns with a distressed look on your face (you cant choose). at the shops with two coats, a helpless look in your eyes (you cant choose). you at the check out with a shy smile as you hand the cashier his black card (he bought everything).

kittens (and more) 📂 and AAAA its a video of you at meow cafe slamming down a kitty card with a wayyy too competitive look on your face. you crouched on the side of the road feeding stray cats. you at a bird sanctuary with eyes half-closed, a bright smile on your face as the birds make a nest in your hair. you and a giant dog you cooed at in the park ("sy, sy! take our photo, please please. his name is kujo!"). you mid-scream as a rat runs by your feet. you with lions for some reason? (bonus, you on the couch with his large body atop yours, head on your belly as you watch TV and pet his ears that one time he got kitty cursed via ‘Luke sent from my iPhone’)

us 📂 and its you and him. your selfies where hes frowning at something out of frame and youre 😄✌️. when he has his arm around you as you walk, his eyes forward but you’ve decided to snap a bright-eyed photo. selfies you take from a low angle as youre bored out of your mind during an auction, he smiles fondly to appease you. selfies in the dim of movie night with him in his glasses and fluffy hair and you wrapped up in your giant blanket-poncho. selfie of you kissing his cheek while he sleeps. mirror selfies of u in facemasks & matchy headbands. your HANDS, with your RINGS, intertwined with his fingers. creating, presenting (craft, art, music, a reloaded weapon, a flower, a bug, a silly rubber band shape you were so proud to show him). playing with the hem of his jacket. nail photos you send him after an appointment?? saved. candid photos of you two bickering and then immediately after flirting airdropped by the twins (captioned "gross." via 'Keiran sent from my iPhone'). and countless photos of him kissing your hair as youre taking the picture— one for each season— dusted with snow, trees and flowers in full bloom behind you, sweaty and against the light in the summer heat, and you tucked in his coat as the orange leaves dance above you in the wind.

he scrolls, a stupid little smile on his face, until his food arrives. until his car comes to a stop. until you’re breaking down the metal bars of his prison, sweaty and breathless and worried and beautiful, to save him.

(he takes a photo of that last image too, saving it to the general ‘beloved’)

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

[anotherpjofan]

I love how Percy is genuinely like wtf when Luke says Annabeth - who’s twelve - is head counsellor so he’s under the impression that annabeth is ridiculously powerful when in reality her older cabin mates just wanted to spend their time coming up with ways to hack the government instead of assigning cabin chores

[zeropro]

Could we perhaps get some rainmakers please?

[squeakyducky]

Things I find cute that the OM! cast would do

- have a picture of MC inside their wallet

Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, Diavolo

- associate a character they like with MC

Simeon, Satan, Levi, Mammon

- the type to spam MC when they leave them on read

Mammon, Thirteen

- writes a love story based on MC and him

Levi, Simeon, Satan

- MC's personal space is his second home

Asmo, Belphie

- tell dad jokes

Solomon, Diavolo, Raphael

- likes to cook for MC

Luke, Barbatos, Solomon

- likes to cook with MC

Simeon, Solomon, Levi, Satan

- nags MC like a mom

Satan, Luke

- has an album dedicated to MC in their phone

Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, Asmo

[andy-lup]

Hi. You know I'm working on this fic where everyone is looping but no one is saying it?

Well, this is a preview, I think. They're at the library because Isabeau is looking for Time Craft information and other smart people stuff.

Anyways, see ya next time I finish another drawing 🐊

[hellsquills]

Something about the "don't come back until you've made millions" and Ford's resentment.

There's no way Stan could actually make millions by himself. Ford knows this, because it's, well... obvious. The way he sees it, their father kicked Stan so he'd learn to "get it together" and fend for himself.

What Ford fails to understand (and will not understand until they're sailing together) is that 1. Filbrick wasn't teaching Stan any lesson, he simply wanted to get rid of a child he didn't deem worthy of his family; and 2. Stan DID take the "making millions" part literally.

So Ford goes on with his life telling himself that Stan will be fine, because this warning is enough for him to get it together and grow up. He's charming, he's resourceful, he's good with people. He'll find a job in no time. He might not get rich, but he'll finally become an adult and stop acting like a selfish kid. Maybe he'll even reflect on what he did and will finally stop making excuses. He'll apologize, and maybe then Ford will forgive him.

So when Stan shows up at his cabin all dirty and unkempt, Ford is decidedly disappointed: his brother didn't even bother trying bettering himself! And now that he has the chance of doing something good, he's still being selfish!

Meanwhile, Stan, who's given up on "making millions" and is just trying to survive with his guilt and the decisions he made to try and make it up to his family, is furious. Ford knew from the start that Stan would never make it, and yet he sided with their dad! And he didn't even fucking miss him!

Something about the many layers of miscommunication and misunderstanding these two had between them. It wasn't just "you were being selfish/you betrayed me/you left me". Things are never that simple.

Also I want to kick Filbrick with a steel chair.

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

“Pain is hilarious!”

C’mon guys he had to learn that his eye regenerates somehow!

So fun fact! You know that thing people, perhaps parents tell you? That if you smile it tricks your brain into being happy? Well don’t do that in traumatic moments! Because if you do, your brain mixes wires on how to process shit and when you’re under mental turmoil you might start laughing maniacally! I may or may not know from experience!!! 😃

[melonsharks]

like a thing, make a character lineup to figure out how i would draw them. thats the way my brain works! you can find close-ups under the cut!

these were fun :] theres a lot of characters in this show that would be fun to draw, is there anyone you guys wanna see next? 🤔

[potato-lord-but-not]

someone asked how the boyfriends would be with Faroe after Kayne brings her back, and sorry for being a downer but I’m on the “Arthur doesn’t get Faroe back” hill so I initially wasn’t gonna ponder about it.

And then I started pondering. weeks later. and decided I can indulge just this once because tbh I need more adorable Faroe in my life (we all do). I indulged a little too much tho and decided to make an actual post instead of answering the ask so HERE WE ARE

[demigods-posts]

been thinking about that scene in chalice of the gods when percy and annabeth are singing karaoke together. and it's so funny bc percy "if anything, i should be getting a scholarship to NRU" jackson is just stone-faced, fed up with this bullshit and just sings the song bc dammit this might as well happening. and annabeth "this quest is the least dangerous things i've had to do in my entire life, and i'm trapped in my eight-year-old body with no guaranteed that i'll return to myself" chase is just singing her heart out, adding a ridiculous amount of riffs and runs, and is definitely off-key and off tempo. like, percy could not be more pissed off about how stupid it'll be if they don't survive, and annabeth could not care any less about how they win as long as they do. this is a hilarious visual. hats off to rick.

[hatsbuckets]

oh y'all thought that (this) was the only one?

Kyle Garrick who's unsettled after missions.

Kyle Garrick who heads for the locker room, shedding gear, heart still fluttering and pounding in his chest.

Kyle Garrick who can't shake the nerves, the jostle of the vehicle, the ache in his frame, even as he hits the showers.

Kyle Garrick whose ears pick up the light voice of a very talkative Scot and lets it fill his ear as they clean up, warm water relaxing tense muscle.

Kyle Garrick who teases, and talks, and banters with one John Mactavish.

Kyle Garrick who lets the words come easy, lets himself be dragged into conversation, lets himself laugh when Soap throws a wet towel at his head.

Kyle Garrick who fires back with a sharp quip, a roll of his eyes, a smirk that’s almost real. And the tension eases, just a bit, in the rhythm.

Kyle Garrick who doesn’t say anything when the conversation winds down, when Soap claps his shoulder, grin still in place, but softer now. Just a shared nod when Soap heads off.

Kyle Garrick who moves slower now, steadier now, toward the hangar for something he's sure he's forgotten, but by the time he enters it doesn't matter.

Kyle Garrick who finds a masked lieutenant, still stiff, still tense, still caught in whatever storm is brewing in his head.

Kyle Garrick who doesn’t touch at first, just sits next to him, near but not crowding. and he speaks, voice easy, steady, something grounding to pull one Simon Riley back down.

Kyle Garrick who watches Ghost breathe, watches the sharp edges smooth out, watches the tension give just a little. Eventually venturing to squeeze his shoulder once, brief but firm. and he doesn’t push when Ghost doesn’t answer.

Kyle Garrick who finds himself at his captain's office, where the door is cracked open.

Kyle Garrick who steps inside without a word and sees the couch—nearly too small for the captain that lies on it.

Kyle Garrick who accepts one John Price lying there and the knowing look Price gives, and he doesn’t ask, just leans in when Price opens his arms.

Kyle Garrick who tucks himself into the warmth, presses his face against familiar fabric, and breathes.

Kyle Garrick who feels the exhaustion settle in deep, but not heavy, not anymore.

Kyle Garrick who lets his eyes slip shut, knowing he won’t be the last to arrive.

Kyle Garrick who sleeps comfortably atop his captain.

Kyle Garrick who is unsettled after missions,

but never too unsettled to find ease in the boys.

Kyle Garrick who feels the rumble of Price's snores and just melts deeper, because he's undeniably comforted by the sound anyway.

price | soap | ghost

[zephyrchama]

Leviathan aims to gradually raise your affection meter by bringing you one (1) small gift each day. He will get you something nice on occasion, but those presents are typically reserved for special events such as birthdays and holidays, during which any increases in affection are doubled.

You once mentioned a sticker at a discount store looked cool and he proceeded to gift you that sticker 26 days in a row. He called it min-maxing.

[tojisteddy]

BLACKCAT!READER who frequents at the bar the tf141 have basically called their home.

It’s filled with everyone in SpecGru every time a mission ends successfully— it’s loud, roudy and everyone is looking to have a good time. Of course you had to be there. Little minx was always down to party.

And at first, no one pays blackcat!reader any mind, just another girl who wants to fuck a military man; joining in on the terrible karaoke, drinking games, dancing like your life depends on it and betting during card games. And maybe it’s the 10th time Gaz has seen you around, so he indulges in the poker game your apart of— but it’s the way you play that’s just too fucking familiar for his liking.

You crack your neck before you start, overhand then pile shuffle the cards, and cut the deck while looking right at the person to your left right in the eyes, then deal the cards like a pro. And the game looks so simple, so easy to Gaz that he’s sure he’ll win in less than ten minutes. You’re talking big shit, smirking and egging everyone at the table to bet forty pounds more because why the hell not, what could happen?

Eager to win, Gaz puts down an extra fifty just this one time, you match it to make him feel even better. And finally, the man slams his hand down, rejoicing obnoxiously in delight. You pout, eyebrows furrowed as you place your hand down.

“But I thought I won?”

And the whole area is then filled with howls of laughter and yelling, your deck topping Gaz’s by a single joker.

Annoyed he downs the loser cup that’s filled with god knows what, praying he doesn’t hurl as you collect all the money on the table with a sly grin.

Like you hadn’t been sitting there for the past hour collecting men and women’s money like tissue hand outs.

And Gaz and no one else thinks anything of it, till your making your way to the bar like a happy kitty kat, getting called to come ‘have a good time’ by lower ranks here and there, your ass up like a tail, swishing with ease with every move. You’re tipsy because you lost a few rounds but you know exactly where you’re supposed to be, after a long night of fucking around— with Ghost Riley of course.

And it’s a shock to everyone who’s had their eyes on your gorgeous self the whole night— in a white crop top that’s sliding of your shoulders showing off your stomach, black micro shorts that’s just barely covering your ass, mid calf fur stilettos, curls in high ponytail with a few stray hairs perfectly out of place. Layered bangles & necklaces adorning your wrists and neck and large hoops that met your shoulders, black glasses perched on the end of your nose, matching you long black & silver manicured nails with and a brown lip liner.

Ghost, a man who didn’t take most women who approached him serious in any regard, even if he left with them for the night. A pretty little thing that was eager to have that man’s attention despite him being in the middle of talking to Soap. Of course he didn’t give it to you straight away, letting you lean on him while his hand found the small of your back, slowly down to your ass— squeezing. blackcat!reader who pulled out the chunk of cash she’d won from her purse and giving a portion of it to Riley, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief— pride.

Oh, you weren’t just a random— you were Ghosts.

The slithery bastard, known for not only being good at any card game, talking shit without flinching, but cheating and never getting caught— had taught you how to play poker to a T.

And it was a sight for that brute who got annoyed at anything, letting you sit in his lap, lifting your chin and putting his half empty whiskey to your full lips and chuckling when you cringed at the taste. Plopping you back down in his lap when you tried to get up too fast.

“Take a fuckin break, you’ve been movin all damn night.”

The man doesn’t bother explaining to any of the 141 what the hell just happened once your off on your merry way.

It was just known, Ghost was in possession of a new pet— perfect to look at, absolutely no touching.

a/n: Idk if anyone will like this format but I wanna try it. Am I doing this instead of writing my essay, well yes!

most recent masterlist blackcat!reader

[outer-andromeda]

So first question! Can doey actually taste anything?

Gonna take this ask as an opportunity to answer all of these all at once :00 @tallahatchet @sadowmaster (sorry for the tag sjshsjh-)

Yes, Doey CAN taste things. Though I'd assume after years of consuming just uh... meat... That tasting must be kind of dull for him. So when he has the chance to eat anything other than that, it's a whole new world opening up to him. Taste buds explosion kind of situation, you know?

Besides, Matthew knew of the food outside of Playcare (whatever it was that they served there), and Jack lived with it, so the adaptation time of tasting "new" things doesn't take Doey long... But Kevin??? My poor boy's only ever known the food in the orphanage. I think he'd be very emotional about their discoveries.

As for favorite foods, Doey's would be the three boys favorites. Which are as follows for Matthew, Jack and Kevin (in order):

(+ bonus doodle under the cut because I couldn't resist making a silly one)

POV : Doey (re)discovers the tastes of the outside world.

[armorangels]

you cannot convince me that this man is a top