#he need 2 vent

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[pastel-medic]

Scout hating Spy this, Spy hating Scout that

Hear me out. Complicated comfort father-son dynamic

[hijinxinprogress]

Coffee addict Never sleeps Tim drake ❌ 

Solving cases in his sleep off 87 energy drinks Tim Drake ✅

The coffee addict never sleeps perpetually tired Tim Drake thing is a widely accepted headcanon however that was elementary school tim but after he stayed up for a week straight subsisting entirely on coffee to decipher the bat weekly patrol schedule and how it aligns with rogue attacks/Arkham breakouts, he crashed then when he woke up it was fucking wednesday so he missed his chance to commemorate his discovery with pictures of Robin and he decided that shit would never happen again and made himself an ‘efficient’ sleep schedule so he could run around doing fuck shit, add to his robin shrine, and stay on honor roll bc he was even more pissed to see the gotham gazette had pictures of Robin with an on site interview credited to Vicki Vale (listen bowl cut tim had a one sided beef with vicki vale that included tim judging who gets better pics of the bats but she isn’t even aware that she’s competing with a whole ass child 😭 he’s sitting at the table with a mug of orange juice and looks at the newspaper snorts and goes ‘fucking amateur I could do better’) 

Regularly unsupervised tiny businessman in training Tim ‘Ten hours of uninterrupted sleep?? That’s so inefficient not to mention fucking stupid’ Drake is so pissed he missed getting shots of Robin dropkicking a rogue from 6 six stories up (for absolutely no reason dick just thinks it’s fun) that he just takes at least 3 hour naps every eight hours 😭 he refuses to spend almost half a day sleeping ‘for no reason when he could be doing something productive’ 

And he still does this as a bat but it’s just easier to tell if he didn’t take his nap bc he has less than zero impulse control and he’s just fucking done with everything like the gcpd is terrified bc tim’s saying shit like ‘This guys a fucking moron, I could’ve done this in half the time without killing anyone fucking loser doesn’t he know if you keep them alive you can prolong the torture?’ and ‘you’re like all hysterical and for what 🤨 ‘you blew up 83% of Bristol waah’ stfu and fucking rebuild it?? It’s only rich mfs that live there, it’s just a matter of them opening their fucking wallets’ once a new recruit made the mistake of asking if robin had adult supervision regularly and Tim responded with ‘well if you’re gonna snitch to cps like a little bitch then yeah’ and that cop did snitch so tim fucking doxxed him

Yj has just accepted that sometimes they will find tim in an air vent, on the roof, in one of their closets, or something just fucking knocked out then an alarm will go off and he’ll just get up like nothing happened but for the first couple of months they were probably concerned bc ‘I’ve never seen you sleep?? wtf are you on man’ and Tim’s confused bc ‘I slept next to you this morning wdym??’ and that’s how yj discovers tim sleeps with his eyes open

But one of the worst things about Tim’s ‘time efficient sleep schedule’ nonsense is that it fucking works he’s one of the most well rested and coherent bats even after back to back Arkham breakouts however the absolute worst thing about his sleep schedule is the likelihood of going into the cave and seeing tim staring in a daze but wide eyed yet somehow never blinking at the batcomputer with 57 tabs open on top of being unresponsive and thinking he has a fucking concussion or he’s been replaced but he’s just doing case work while muttering nonsense in his fucking sleep for some reason

[emberglowfox]

closing time

[sir-walton-goggins]

The Ties That Bind Us

Arthur Morgan x fem OC

1.7k words

Summary: Arthur is back to camp way earlier than expected. His wife wonders what possibly could have him back so soon... and in such a bad mood.

Angst + Fluff

Tw child death, tw death

Credit for the header goes to @raevennsge

It had been a long day, and Kris was exhausted when she rode into camp at sundown. She lugged her heavy body straight towards the campfire, where she noticed the silhouette of her husband sitting around it.

‘Is he back already? That’s weird’ the woman thought, perplexed. Arthur usually stayed out for days, even weeks at a time, but now he was back after just a mere day. Something was off.

As she approached from behind, he leaned forward, head bowed, hands conjoined together as if in prayer. There was a dark aura to him that made Kris nervous. She could tell he was upset even before seeing his face.

“Hey,” she cautiously greeted him before laying her hands on his shoulders. Arthur didn’t move.

“Hi.” His tone was tired, forlorn.

“Are you okay, honey?”

No response. Instead, Arthur sighed and sniffled, picking up a pebble and throwing it into the fire. Kris waited patiently, rubbing his broad, tense shoulders.

“I need to be alone” was his lapidary answer. His wife nodded.

“Alright. I’ll be in our tent when you’re ready” she murmured, exhaustion getting the best of her.

While Kris got undressed and laid down to get some rest, Arthur remained perfectly still, sitting on the log alone. The fire was burning into his clear eyes, broadcasting his internal turmoil. He observed it like he wanted to part it and walk through it, to disappear forever. He desperately kept the pain inside his chest, and it jabbed at him mercilessly, slicing his breath short. He refused to let it out at the risk of breaking down, losing his composure. He couldn’t afford it: his composure was all he had now; he was the solid rock upon which everyone in the gang could count on. There simply is no time for weakness, when dozens of people depend on you to survive.

But he wanted to talk. Desperately. He wanted to tell Kris how much he was hurting. But his mind bounced back and forth between doing it and thinking it was stupid. After all, he had no reason to be that upset. It had been long enough now, hadn’t it? He was just being a big baby.

The outlaw had lost count of how long he’d been staring into the crackling flames, inhaling their smoke. The full moon peeked through the naked trees, stars glistening like tiny gemstones on a black evening gown. Everyone else had already turned in.

He should’ve gone to bed, but his eyes were wide open, his chest and shoulders too heavy. He missed Kris.

Arthur poked his head in their shared tent. His wife laid on the cot, sleeping peacefully. She looked like an angel: an halo of dark, wavy hair circling her head on the candid pillow. His chest temporarily felt a bit lighter in front of such a peaceful sight.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Arthur undressed and climbed into bed next to Kris. He cuddled up to her, nuzzling his face into her shoulder and inhaling deeply. She smelled like home, like his safe place. It was so comforting, he almost forgot all about-

“Arthur…” she protested, making him curse under his breath.

“Sorry, dear,” he whispered. “Didn’t mean to wake ya”. His grip on her waist tightened and he pulled her into a hug. Kris exhaled, melting into his embrace and stroking his forearm. She has missed him, too.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” she asked, sleep still heavy and low in her voice.

Silence. Just rhythmical breathing, Arthur’s heavier and more disjointed. He exhaled, burying his face into Kris’s hair.

“Something happened yesterday…” he began. Nervous, he fidgeted with the stitching on Kris’s underwear, pulling at it and twirling it around his fingers.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Kris encouraged him softly.

“Not really…” His mind at fought a dire war between the effort of bringing up something painful and the temporary comfort of burying it down with the rest of his past.

“Okay,” she took his restless hand in hers, squeezing it lovingly. “But I think you should, honey. You’ll feel better after”.

She moved her head so she could look at him in the eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

The blond nodded. He knew.

Kris smiled and kissed him on the cheek, cupping it and rubbing the coarse stubble with her thumb in a circular motion.

Arthur now felt reassured enough to open up, but he still hid his face in Kris’s thick hair.

“I was passing through this small village…” Arthur gulped, doing his best to spit the words out, where they wouldn’t rot him from the inside out. He paused to recount the scene.

Arthur rode in from the west side of the village, passing right in front of the tiny graveyard. He noticed a bunch of people gathering around an open grave, mourning the loss of a fellow citizen. What struck him the most was the utter silence and reverence in such a big crow: must’ve been someone important. He felt compelled to stop and watch from afar, like pulled into place by an invisible thread. The priest was the only one speaking, sending the poor soul off to their final rest.

As the clergy man droned and read from the Sacred Scriptures, Arthur got off his horse and approached, keeping at a safe distance from the funeral. Curiosity got the best of him, so he leaned out to have a look at the dug up hole in front of the tombstone.

His heart sank down into his stomach. That was too small of a grave.

“Today we lay our dear Ishmael to rest. His life was taken from us too soon, but when the Lord calls, we shall answer, and so now he sits next to His throne, in Heaven, forever safe from earthly suffering.”

Arthur felt all blood drain from his face. He desperately wanted to run, but he couldn’t bring himself to just turn around and leave. He felt like he deserved to sit through this. Like he had to.

Once the priest finished his speech, the undertaker began shoveling dirt on the casket, and it wasn’t long before the tiny body was hidden from mournful eyes forever, six feet deep.

A young woman, who had to have been the little boy’s mom, threw a red rose on the coffin, her face a veritable mask of pain. Two other women had their arms linked to hers, the only force holding her up and preventing her from falling on her knees, wracked by grief. And fall she did; she began to wail desperately, a sound which pierced right through Arthur’s chest and sent a wave of white hot pain straight to his head. Before he even noticed people were staring at him, he was bolting back to his horse and taking off at full speed.

“Oh, Arthur…” Kris sighed, the picture he painted way too real and raw.

Arthur swallowed the knot in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came out.  

“I…” he paused, feeling his eyes sting unbearably.

“I miss him. Every day” he closed his eyes, tears that had been locked away for too long wetting his face.

Kris held him closer, squeezing him into a hug that she wished could’ve healed all his pain. Arthur wept in his wife’s arms for the first time ever, his deep sadness spreading to her. He never talked about Isaac, ever. It left Kris feeling so shocked that this was even happening. She froze, unable to come up with anything to comfort her grieving husband. She silently embraced him as tight as she could, caressing his hair and waiting for his sobs to settle down. With each one of them erupting from his chest, Kris felt a sharp knife stabbing her heart. Oh, there’s nothing worse of the sound of your beloved crying.

As Arthur calmed down they laid there for a while, entangled in each other’s arms, without speaking a word.

“Y’know,” he broke the silence, voice still broken. “I think this was punishment. I couldn’t save ‘em, and now I’m paying for it.”

“No, Arthur, this wasn’t your fault. Please, don’t blame yourself.”

He insisted, pain permeating his every word. “If I was there, I could’ve protected them.” Kris had never heard a sentence spoken with so much regret. She listened, heartbroken by all the guilt he carried, and felt so utterly powerless in the face of it.

“And now I’m scared I’ll ruin things again” he confessed, pressing his palms against his eyes to erase that poor mother’s face from his memory. “I don’t deserve a second chance.”

“Arthur.” Kris removed his hands away from his face. “Look at me.” She intertwined their fingers together.

“You do deserve a second chance. And you won’t ruin it. Because we are in this together, and I’m not backing down. Ever.”

Arthur looked up at her, unconvinced. “You should be with someone better.” he whispered, breathing it out with all the melancholy left in his lungs.

Kris laughed softly and shook her head. “I probably should, but I won’t” she brought his hand to her lips, “because I wanna be with you.”

Arthur smiled, eyes filled with unshaken love. Here stood his wife, his family, the finest woman he ever met, his second chance at life, at love. A day hadn’t passed where he didn’t feel grateful to be with her, even if guilt and conflict sometimes clouded his judgment. He wouldn’t let his past ruin the precious thing they had together, in the present.

He leaned forward, meeting her lips and rubbing his nose against hers gently.

“Afraid you’re stuck with me, Morgan” Kris joked, actually making him laugh for the first time in who knows how many days.

He cuddled into her shoulder. “I think it’s the other way around, Mrs. Morgan.”

“Mh. We shall see” she snarked, closing her eyes. “Goodnight, dear. Try to get some sleep.”

Arthur obliged, finally feeling lighter. What do you know, Kris was right. Again. He closed his eyes and Morpheus’s gentle embrace lifted him off the Earth, giving him some respite.

[castielsprostate]

idk what to do with the information that tom hardy knows what tumblr is

[lggy]

please just die and come to the nether with me

[corvid-language-library]

.

[skunkes]

ok posting it here bc im not sure if its going to stay in the doodle page

[kinos-fortress-2]

idk comfort characters moment ig

[kimetsu-chan]

I’m gonna be out most of the day bc I’ll be helping my dad with a big shopping trip plus being out after, so I’m going to be super duper exhausted

I don’t do well in crowded or loud places in the slightest, I get woozy and tired and I feel miserable or like I’m gonna pass out, and if the shopping isn’t gonna make me wanna cry, the outing after will bc it’s gonna be packed with lots of noise and people

I don’t say this because I want to complain, I just wanna give a super quick warning that I might not be active tomorrow as well as today bc when I get exhausted, my mental health tends to decline as well ;-;

so- a bit of a warning that I may poof a bit (sorry! 😣)

[inkameswetrust]

how i looked at the new guy at my job last month while he kept asking for my opinion on what fragrance he should buy from a kiosk 50 ft away instead of helping me with sales and the only other person there was busy performing an eye exam so i couldn't leave to go on break and i had to do everything myself

[lyfrassiredda]

introducing the unwilling captain of the Dynamos, former Inspector Second Class Lyfrassir Edda! 

The AU where lyfrassir tries to hunt the prison mechs down with their shiny new eldritch powers (and a gun) for ditching them while their system was vored by a crusty imperialist’s eldritch sugar mommy.

Unfortunately, they’re not the only survivor of a Near Mechs Encounter interested in finding the crew of the starship Aurora— not by a long shot.

[songbird-wings]

I wish there were horses in Fable 3 because I have this feeling that Logan would be a horse girl

[pleckthaniel]

I love receiving a passive-aggressive text message every time I use the only kitchen on this earth I have physical access to. I love having the options of 'put herculean effort into appearing not to exist' or 'be scolded daily for eating'

[justewil]

why does he look like that

🏳️‍🌈?