#he’s holding back vomit

[guzmaniacz]

he’s holding back tears

[velvet-games]

reading A Trace of Notoriety by rymyanna on ao3 (great fic btw highly recommend) and there's a scene where alastor learns how to charge a phone just to plug in angel's while he's asleep

[brucie-baby]

the thing about bruce trying to kill the joker is that people always leave it at 'superman stopped him', which is only partially true. superman does stop him but only during the assembly itself. as soon as he's inhaled all the joker gas, he says, "Batman, he's all yours."

he lets bruce have him, and he doesn't step back in until it's time to pull bruce from the water. maybe this is just because it took him a while to dispose of the gas, but i've always seen it as superman essentially giving batman permission of a sort to do what he needed to do.

maybe clark didn't know what bruce would choose - whether he would lock the joker up or put him six feet under - but he trusted bruce's judgement. maybe clark was sure of bruce's intentions, that he truly believed that bruce would do the 'right' thing. or maybe clark knew that bruce was going to kill him, and he took a step back. i don't know if we're ever told, and i don't think i want to know. i just think it's very interesting.

but bruce did fully try to kill the joker. nobody could stop him, and in the end superman didn't try to. the joker had literally been shot and the helicopter was about to explode and bruce left him there to die. the comic ends with bruce yelling to find his body, but thinking, "But I know they won't. That's how things always end with the Joker and me. Unresolved."

[averageludwig]

I need to get this out of my system or i will blow up. LIKE DAMN.. DAMN. LIKE OKAY. Like damn. Like. Tears in my eyes . fistful of hair . rocking back and forth . damn. He is ruining my life. Guys on the count if 3 throw the biggest rock at me. I need to be stoned there is no cure to this. goodnight cruel world.

[chaos0pikachu]

man Khao really got a chokehold on y'all b/c Ray ain't do nothing but be drunk, jealous and throw up on ppls shoes and y'all out here writing woobie essays already

[fiendishartist2]

KEEP GAME CONSOLE RUNNING

[ardentpoop]

[hood-ex]

Probably that when someone asks a simple question, especially about nightwing or another robin, I’ll give them the most complicated answer without meaning to just bc I get excited getting to talk about them irl…😭

Ahh the info-dump extravaganza. I'll let loose like that if I can tell the person is genuinely interested, but if I can tell they're inquiring about it just to be nice, I give them the simple, easy answer.

[stigmasochist]

.

[jules-van-hering]

how the fuck do you calm yourself down from wanting to completely rip into those dudes on dating app who just saw the non-mono tag on your profile didn't read any further then texted you the most offensive shit and now you just wanna rip his head off

[curiosity-killed]

in the low parts now

[ALT ID: A digital painting of two men embracing in the midst of crashing waves in front of a giant glowing moon. The taller man is in front and appears to be gagging while holding his heart in one palm, with blood strings leading back to a dark hole in his chest. The shorter man hugs him from behind with one arm while the other hand holds the first man’s hair back and out of the way.]

[rainybraindays]

The stills ain't helping my mood tbh

[cariciapadre]

Caricias is the MESSIEST drunk , He will scream and sing and cry and vomit and get lost for 3 days

[sick-as-a-dog]

×

[cxnsolatio]

Ayo! Law come get your smuggler! She drunk!

✚✚✚  anonymous

@ryathenaughtykitsune

It was not that Law cared little about the piece of intel the unknown face felt it oh-so-necessary for him to know, the call for attention proposed with such effervescence like it was pivotal that he know Kanrya — the only self-titled, self-made smuggler he knew — was drunk and in requiring of assistance. Instead, Law could not have cared any less about Rya's present misfortune.

Had she not brought it down upon herself, invited rue in as she had reached for the drink, high-quality liquor as befitting of a runner, cheap grog as appropriate of a drunkard, either or both consumed together in immoderate gulps, the overpowered mind selectively blind to reason and the aftermath morning would bring in the guise of a hangover? Rya had walked right into the trappings of inebriation of her own volition. In the same manner, she would not walk but crawl out of them, even if her previous resolve had transmuted into resignation to her drunken fate.

Law would have nothing to do with it, except to care for the smuggler's replenishment of electrolytes and the lining of her stomach with something bland when it dawned, Rya's taste for alcohol rendering the intake of an analgesic harmful to her liver, along with the main culprit. Hippocrates had him bound to honourable duty as a medical practitioner, but alas for Rya, the principle of non-maleficence did not equate with taking pity and extending tenderness upon any patient, not in Law's understanding of ethics and morals. Do no harm, but do not offer solicitude in excess either.

❝ So? ❞ He commented, hand warmer than his words as Law snuggled his sword against the side of his body. ❝ What do you suggest I do about it? Rya made her own messy, I reckon soon-to-be rancid, bed. Now she must lie in it. ❞ His brow knitted in defiance of both his authority and practical approach. Rya could no longer be saved from intoxication, nor from its consequences, so where was the urgency in his acting?

Your smuggler, the anonymous fellow had said. Rya was nothing of his to warrant a rescue. Not a crewmate he'd stake his sorry life for without a moment's thought. Not his smuggler, either — a marauder who happened to be his acquaintance. The difference was vast and capital. It was true Rya had offered the Doctor her services again and again, and not just those of the contraband type, but Law had denied them in concert.

What he desired, he acted upon. Scheming was the most fun, that busy prelude where his brain fizzed with thousands of scenarios and volte-faces, a thousand new answers appearing in turn. Already his plan offered a first reward, one of the chemical kind that besieged him in a rush of gaiety. But finesse in machinations must be met with the utmost efficiency in carrying them out, which was why Law preferred to act by his own hand, requiring no service of bastards and thieves, assassins and smugglers alike. As for the others, they were pawns in the king's crusade, more or less expendable as his plans and goodwill demanded, each a separate cog not worth much on its own, but of great use when assembled and set to motion by the catalyst which was his intellect.

He needed no possessive pronoun when debating Kanrya and so it would remain, unless she proved worthy of boarding the yellow submarine and joining the ranks of his crewmates, in which case she would indeed be his, deserving of his loyalty and sacrifice. Until then, the smuggler was more than welcome to pass out in some alley bar or speakeasy, soil herself in her own bodily excretions, and be left to the kindness of strangers. Law's conscience did not exert a newton over it.

[kanameows]

hmm. niki settling into his new, food secure life and getting used to not constantly being filled with anxiety. niki having the energy to pay more attention to the world around him. niki feeling more upset and pissed off about things he would normally ignore but also feeling far happier far more often. niki finally being able to relax.