#it’s heavily implied

[lemonlimestar]

personally, i don’t understand how someone can like [post-crisis, as this is a mostly post-crisis blog] tim & just… not acknowledge his deep relationships with certain people?? sorry, but we wouldn’t have tim drake without dick grayson. despite his many, many, many, many flaws, bruce and tim have a strong enough bond that tim uprooted to go search for him & that’s not even mentioning the push and pull of his relationships with both jack and bruce. points at that bit in contagion where he asks that jack knows he didn’t love bruce more than him. and need i remind you that he also loves his mom?? he reiterated that he wanted his parents to be back home with him Because he loved them! and they loved him! and in that same plot point (contagion) he dreams that she’s back and cooking the meals she used to when he was younger :( like guys christmas eve was literally his mommy’s funeral!!! if u even care!!!

(u don’t or i wouldn’t be making this post LMAO)

timsteph truther or Not, the impact she has on him can’t just be swept to the wayside for mediocre at best yaoi (megfitz i am looking at u). they’re best friends! and despite all the grief they put each other through they still cling to each other! tim makes wally take him all the way back to gotham during nml to make sure he’s there when steph gives birth!

same goes with him & kon + yj/cassie & bart in general. they are clingy and territorial and clingy and tim is their best friend (and he thinks of them the same). like i’m sorry. ik i joke about this but genuinely how are we glossing over damn near 100 fucking cloning attempts. they were his colors??? bro. ik they bicker in yj98 but brother i’m gonna be real with u they All do that. they’re all passively mean to each other within their friendship & banter & such, kon and tim just so happen to also have the problems with tim’s secret identity more upfront. (which cools instantly after it’s kinda resolved for them in wwyj). timcassie will never read as romantic to me, but does it have to be romantic for the way they fell into each other after kon (and then bart :[) dies to be compelling?? u wouldn’t know this bc it’s very unlikely that u fall into this camp and have also read impulse 95, but did u even know that tim is one of the first people bart turns to when he’s stuck on an issue?? did u know that kon does the same on his solo?? did u know that cassie jokingly(lovingly) calls him her sidekick??

i just feel like the many friendships and relationships that tim has is part of what makes him himself. he’s the team-up guy!! he loves his family and friends!! his closest friends are family to him!! and this isn’t getting into his relationships that are usually ignored entirely or straight up made one dimensional (babs, cass, helena, damian, etc, etc) (to which i would say read nml, read last laugh, read fresh blood, read cry of the huntress, read cry for blood, read gates of gotham)

[tonia-aaaaa]

Old Double Life fanart that still goes hard, bc i put ridiculous amounts of thought into it back when i made it. This one was a hit on the 'gram.

[cthulhum]

i lied theres no sex. were gonna sit down and watch supernatural while we analyze the way almost every character is queer coded especially dean

[chloesimaginationthings]

What comic is the bottom left image of springtrap from? (On the post where you say why you draw him blocky)

It’s from this comic!! A very normal father son reunion

Og post here

[dragonpyre]

Batman: and this is my precious son

Red Hood: FUCK you

Batman: he bites sometimes but we still love him

[yeyinde]

waking up after a night out drinking in a foreign country only to realise that the bed you're in is not your own. no one is beside you. you try to leave but the doors are all locked. the windows won't open. you're trapped. a pretty bird in a cage.

nothing is in the dressers except large, old shirts. the clothes you were wearing when you woke up disappear after you take a shower. no panties. no bra. food shows up on schedule. you never see who leaves it.

they don't answer when you scream. when you bang your fists against the door until they're bloodied. passing out on the floor when the drugs finally kick in. but the mess you make in the daytime is cleaned up. your hands bandaged. disapproval heavy in the air along with the stale scent of tobacco. smoke.

when you're good, you get things. books. magazines. treats. your favourite food. a laptop arrives when you sob yourself to sleep after screaming yourself hoarse about loneliness, and how this isn't right. this isn't okay. it's restricted, of course. you log into Facebook but the moment you try and ask for help, the internet is turned off. you're being watched. monitored closely.

you learn your lesson slowly, giving nothing away to your family and pretending you're enjoying your holiday. being good. quiet.

instead of treats, gifts, recipe books arrive—some pages dogeared. you start making the food. leaving a plate in the fridge. it's gone the next morning. more recipes appear. you make them, too. an expensive chain comes next. a pretty gold necklace for a pretty bird in a golden cage.

(each meal gets you a strange rash on your cheek, jaw the next morning. beard burn, you think, and try not to shudder.)

lingerie comes after. silk, lace. all of it fits perfectly. you try to avoid it. the idea, the implication, is a knife between your ribs, but the next morning, your laptop is missing. the books are gone. food, too. your clothes disappear until all that remains is the lingerie set and a little black box. one you pointedly ignore. throw out with the trash. chew on gum to make the ache in your belly go away until that vanishes too.

your world is narrowed down to hunger. loneliness. isolation—

(in the corner of the rooms, a red light glints in the dark. lonely, but not alone.)

it persists until you relent. give in. another lesson you learn. you wear the set to bed, and try to think nothing of it—

you wake up to something heavy around you. a warm, thick body pressed against your bare spine. coarse chair tickling the skin between your shoulder blades. a burly arm under your neck, elbow bent to wrap a rough hand around your neck. the other slung over your hip, shoved between your thighs. something hard presses into your ass. a bruising pressure. it aches. you stifle a gasp, but with his long, thick fingers wrapped tight around your throat, he feels it.

everything goes still. quiet. just the faint rustle of sheets. the scratch of coarse hair on silk. a breath. you tremble. fight back another gasp when lips press into your crown with a sharp inhale. scenting you. nuzzling into your scalp. warm breath that smalls of malt and honey. woodsy. tobacco.

your eyes adjust slowly to the dark, and fall on a black box left on top of your end table. velvet, you know. you've felt the softness between your fingers when you threw it in the trash with a sob. no escaping it, after all.

the hand between your thighs twitches. when he speaks, it shudders through your spine, makes your hair stand on end. it's a growling purr. the low roar of an old engine. more grit than comfort in the midnight dark.

"jus' close your eyes, love," he rasps, pushing his thick body tighter against you. coiling around you like a big, hungry bear. "an' go back to sleep for me."

and you do.

[j1gsawz]

considering the order of the hypnosis endings… this was the last new scene in the whole show. the last new thing we saw. and the writers knew that. in this universe and every universe, guillermo de la cruz and nandor the relentless love each other and that’s canon.

[eriochromatic]

Last minute self indulgent pride illustration featuring my comfort characters and personal headcanons ✨✨✨

[deviltownresident]

serious question: is elias bouchard just. allergic. to employing straight people. anytime he looks at his employees, he's like "ah yes, i know who we've got here. bi ace man who really shouldn't be in a managerial role, man who will fall in love with his boss who barely talks to him, a lovely young woman who probably isn't straight, a man who fucks with cops of all genders for information, an angry lesbian, an aromantic ex cop, and Daisy Tonner." peter lukas comes in like "have you considered employing some heterosexuals?" and elias just goes "nope"

[shmypko]

uhh.... nothing in particular on my mind. just arthur (im still tired but want to draw (AND i have more ideas for johns design.... dudes gonna get another arm)). and I KNOW arthur likes to wear wide pants GOD what a wide pants loving man.

yea dont look at the title of the file. theres nothing special. SURELY theres nothing that i will draw in the future once i get my shit together. SURELY....

[zinnie-zoloft]

I don’t think people acknowledge enough that Charles is canonically completely open to the possibility of loving Edwin back… like he just straight up admits it’s not out of the question he just needs time to figure it out and somehow people are still saying he’s never expressed any interest in Edwin romantically

[sunllghtt]

Saw this on Twitter

[gammaraydeath]

on space wikipedia, reading about space things

[burloire]

Happy Self-Indulgent Spicy Solavellan Sunday everyone. Featuring as usual Mr. Dragon Age Himself, Solas Wifeguy. This weeks inspiration comes from Every Single Solavellan fic I have read the last 30 days. It is many, unlimited, most. All? Mayhaps. Also, additional shout out to every Boudoir photographer/models who posts their shoots online. Truly an inspiration. *3*

[pinketine]

We still rockin with empires season one⁉️

[huginsmemory]

The one thing led to another night is very much likely hinting at Bill and Ford fucking, but considering Stan's penchant for getting married while drunk, LITERALLY at one point to ol' Goldie, a horrifying gold panning statue souvenir dispenser(?), may mean that Ford would also have a penchant for that. So Ford marrying Bill that night, instead of them fucking (or marrying and fucking) is actually plausible, and also EXTREMELY FUNNY to me. Both of them have such terrible romance track records.

Also like, I know there's a lot of jokes going around about Stanley being like YOU FUCKED A TRIANGLE? Which I love btw, but like. SIR YOU MARRIED A MAYBE CURSED SOUVENIR DISPENSER THATS A STATUE OF A HORRIFYING OLD MAN GOLD PANNING, DO YOU REALLY HAVE A LEG TO STAND ON?