#high five brain

[dragon-business]

Majima-san, trying to understand how he's losing in shogi:

Me who's been eating the pieces when he’s not looking:

[vitreouspositive]

THE FISTBUMP STILL LIVES!!! but through... exchanging blows...

[dragon-business]

– before / navigation / next

[nenoname]

stan spending their childhood trying to make ford's polydactyly something positive in ford's life and genuinely believing its super cool....

[squishykitty825]

Jason, amidst a heated argument with Bruce: Does my death mean nothing in this family?

Out of nowhere: "In the arms of the angel. Fly awaaaay..."

Jason: What the hell?

________________________________________________________

Tim, low on sleep and caffeine trying to convince Jason to give him back his coffee: You think your time as Robin was bad, you never had to deal with Bruce after your death.

Jason: Maybe not. But I was a little busy being dead, Timbo.

"In the arms of the angel. Fly awaaaay..."

Jason: Again?!

________________________________________________________

Damian: Stop being so childish, Todd.

Jason: I died. I can do whatever I want.

"In the arms of the angel. Fly awaaaay..."

Jason, now seriously confused and angry: WHO IS DOING THAT?!

________________________________________________________

Dick whining to Jason about life after his death: You died. I didn't have anyone to talk to.

Jason: I'm so sorry my death was such an inconvenience to you.

"In the arms of the angel. Fly awaaaay..."

Jason now infuriated with whoever is playing the song every time he mentions his own death: I AM GOING TO MURDER WHOEVER IS DOING THAT!

Jason storms off in search of the culprit, leaving Dick staring after him wondering what he's on about.

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your OCs like this

[kevindavidday]

just saw a pjo edit and realized kevin is to jean what percy is to nico

[ratguy-nico]

Adivinen quien al fin dibujo algo? Wich means I'm back baby!

Its not perfect (like everything I made), but I just love drawing comic-like-stuff, I get to relax more. I dont try to do the lines perfectly or the super accurate anatomy (mostly cause I dont know shit about anatomy at all) and also get to be more simple in the colors, wich helps cause I struggle making colors a lot.

I missed drawing my babies...but why did I drawing them like that? XD I swear...I think I should have seen some reference cause I totally change the way I draw the Burger Babys which is crazy for me XD

Now...is this an AU, is this them as teenagers, why is Louise working on Aplebees? Well I didnt put an exact age for the guys here, they could be 16 or 19 I dunno.

This is solely based on this post from @zer0ogravity I lmao with this and totally need it to draw it.

btw I from Latam, I didn't knew what Applebees was until making this comic so if Applebees dont look like this sorry.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Solar: So on the line of sanity, where are you right now.

Eclipse, high and crying hanging off Solar: Hide me, I’m begging you! I don’t want to be near the fish in the ball pit anymore, it has sixty rows of teeth!

Solar: We’ll say negative sanity levels, got it.

[hansmannette]

oh take me back to the night we met

[lovesickeros]

☆ i dream of embers

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes no au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.1k

The House of the Hearth is quiet — or, if you really wanted to be precise, the rats scuttling through the walls are working around the bubble you exist in. The children dare not tempt fates hand unless you asked for them by name, a contradiction. An order to the rules — they mustn't approach you with trivialities, but they must listen if you speak. Your words carry more weight than gold in this house, whether you know it or not.

A tenuous position.

You haven't done anything to earn their reverence, their almost acrid fear — but Arlecchino has. She wields her silver tongue with as much ease as her polearm, ensuring your care in her absence. Her devotion, her service, is felt in the warmth of her chambers, the silks she adorns you with, the bed so soft you feel as though you melt into it. A gift, a promise — a gilded cage need not be something undesirable.

You've grown used to the encumbrance of her presence, these days. The deep timbre of her voice, honeyed yet melting into something rougher, quieting into haunting silence as if she seeks not to disturb you. Dim candlelight is all that illuminates her broad frame as she slowly presses the door open and closed behind her, pallid skin streaked with darkening red, her bottom lip smeared with it like lipstick. There is a tension to her shoulders even when she sets aside her polearm, out of sight and out of mind, harsh lines on her face visible in the deep furrow of her thin brows.

Here, she let's the weariness settle deep into her bones — it's just the two of you, even if she hasn't acknowledged you at all. Still, it's a vulnerability she shows no other, even if that vulnerability is hidden behind layers of barbed wire and teeth.

You watch rather idly from the bed as she wets a cloth in a basin of water, the bed creaking beneath you as your feet sink into the plush rug beneath. You know from experience that trying to help her is like trying to soothe a wild dog, but your knuckles brush over the sharp line of her cheek anyway, free hand stealing the soaking cloth from her hands when her jaw flexes and tenses beneath the pads of your fingers.

It is only then that she looks down at you, eyes as sharp as blades yet so indescribably warm — like a flame licking at your skin, burning so deep you feel it linger for weeks after. Arlecchino is not soft, far from it — but she blunts her jagged edges for you anyway, brushes her lips against your knuckles and allows you a moment of adoration. Carves her worship bone deep in the ghost of her touch against your lower back as she leans down, let's you wash away the blood certainly not her own, never blinking as if you'd simply up and leave if she stopped looking at you for even the smallest moment.

You are well aware she is caging you in. You let her.

Though she is still stiff as a board up to the moment you set the washcloth over the side of the basin, her jaw flexing again, a moment of consideration given. She is not used to soft and brittle things, though — not used to touch that does not lead to steel at her throat, in her gut, carving out softness like a butcher carves up meat, section by section.

But this affliction of affection is stronger than the discomfort, at times.

You almost half consider letting her take the room and have a night of proper rest, but she is faster than you — a calloused hand tilts your head back, half lidded eyes glinting beneath the weight of exhaustion, her thumb firm against your bottom lip. She could kill you without even blinking, you are aware, but she is nothing but careful with her touch — not soft, not Arlecchino, but there is adoration in her touch. Like thumbing a locket portrait, trying to imprint their features into memory by touch alone.

Her touch is fleeting, but the warmth lingers long after — you don't need to be touching to feel the weight of her attention. She stokes the flames of the dying fire, has one of the children bring a fresh pot of tea, lingers even when she doesn't have to. You're sure her desk in her office is far more comfortable to work at, but she'd crammed a small desk into the room anyway, stayed even long after you fell asleep most nights. You never did get to stay up long enough to notice her slip in beside you, nor wake up early enough to find her there with you, but the heat lingers — she leaves breakfast at your bedside table, a small note of affection if she's feeling particularly sappy. Even when you don't see her, she makes sure you feel her presence however she can.

Neither of you need to speak to express it. The silence is..oddly comfortable, filled by the shift of paper or scratch of a pen, the clink of a cup or crackle of fire. It's a little too easy to get lost in watching her work, masking a smile whenever she glanced back at you with a question on the tip of her tongue that goes unsaid.

It's better that way, you both think. The silence was best left undisturbed — as if trying to break it would be like breaking the mirror to each others lives. You don't busy yourself in the affairs of the House of the Hearth, and she doesn't make you. It's better that way, too. Maybe that makes you naive, blind even, to the bodies at her feet piled so high she could drown, but you don't want to give up this fragile tranquility.

So you let the dull scratch of a pen lull you to sleep, try not to smile too much when a hand reaches out in uncertainty to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheek with so much affection it makes it hard to breathe.

It's a tenuous balance, but come the next night you will wipe the blood from her cheek again and she will care for you the only way she knows how — distant service.

And when you wake up to an empty bed, warm despite the fires long burned out, you'll still feel her presence in the allure of a warm drink and pastries at your bedside, a note tucked beneath the plate.

Just like the day before, and just as you expect tomorrow to be. But one day you'll gently pull apart the barbed wire and be let in — not today, no, but someday. It's a slow process, but you're patient enough to wait — and when she let's you in, you'll tend to the scars that it left like you've always done.

One step at a time, one day.

[dragon-business]

that feeling when you sort by kudos on ao3 and see millions of grim fics with the “angst” tag

[cinnamnt]

the characters u like when you’re 17 are the ones you imprint on for life like a baby duckling btw

[vampiric-succulent]

OUAW EP 22 second half:

TW for a bit of gore

COMBAT TIME BABEY

I need a detailed description of how Gideon’s manacles work I Need to Know

TORBEK W MOMENT WHEN HE BECOMES GOREBEK AND MAKES AGDON ACTUALLY SCARED

HOW DID THEY DESIGN THESE CHARACTERS HOLY SHIT

Mace i like your ignition idea but aren’t you also gonna burn down the bridge you’re on??? Nope okay nvm

This guy has a 15ft long scarf. Can’t we just grab that? It’s literally trailing.

Oh fuck. Is Twig dead? No no no

love how Derek just goes “nah fuck that I cast Shield”

“These awesome guys…. And Gricko…..”

THANK GOD SOMETHING HITS HES GRAPPLED GOING DOWN

I LOVE MACE BANGING THE TABLE SO HARD THE BATTLEMAP CAMERA SHAKES

Y’all are IGNORING Twig rn. Can’t someone stabilize her????

Twig is so iconic

NOT TORBEK. THAT IS NOT TORBEK. WHO IS THIS GUY

Oh my god.

GEAR TWOOOO— Woah that’s a bisection.

MY HEART. KREMY DO NOT LET TWIG DIE.

“I don’t feel so good Mr Kremy” GAH

Hootsie is magic??? I guess that makes sense

DONT CLOSE YOUR EYES TWIG

I feel like maybe Gricko should have been able to roll a perception check when Agdon stole something from him underwater— even at disadvantage— how is Agdon seeing? Magic?

Frost could be such a good villain who uses sympathy as a weapon— “I can save you”

What is this random frog doing here? Also I bet Frost looks lowkey ridiculous trying to talk to Agdon through the swamp midfight

YES GRICKO IS GOING FOR THE SCARF wait. This could uh. Be a trap

HARE TODAY GONE TOMORROW I GOT IT

not the chuckles coming out for battle 😭

Gorebek is so fucking scary. I love this so much.

YES THEY GOT HIM HOLY FUCK

Oh fuck Torbek is gonna drown

Twig how are you just making banaña bread right now

TORBEK MY LOVE

Oh fuck vaguely Russian gourd headed scarecrow

WHAT?????? GEHENNA????????? WHAT KID CAME UP FROM THERE????????????

Holy FUCK that’s a way to end a session

PLEASE tell me more about the Gear System. Also oh my god this was such a good episode. Holy shit.

[thesexydancingcrepe]

When Somebody Loved Me 🌸

Back when it was Jttw days & they were ⤴️ traveling with the group

Modern day & maybe reincarnated Crepe ⤵️

So naturally...

EDIT: it's fixed now 😊

The more things change to more, they stay the same (at least that's something I hear often enough 🤷‍♀️)

Ramblings below

This is my own interpretation of modern day!Sun Wukong and what he became after the events Jttw. He's still the same powerful Sun Wukong we all know, & love (despite questionable morals), but He has full dad bod underneath his depressed, "but totally over it" single man pajama sweats. The blue bead on the end of his braid was made from Crepe's blue glass bead earring.

He lives almost entirely on Flower Fruit Mountain, only occasionally coming down & and amazingly, he ended up finding an extremely familiar face 🤔✨️

[prismaticpichu]

Lazard being driven absolutely nuts because Genesis, Sephiroth, Angeal & Zack all spell “ShinRa” differently in their reports.

Genesis: Shin-Ra

Sephiroth: ShinRa

Angeal: Shinra

Zack: Shinruh