#love can be easy

[unadulteratedcoffeetimemachine]

No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft and sentimental like a stranger in the park... for a few moments, I see you Strawberry Wine - Noah Kahan

[katsinspats]

Thematically appropriate comic for Make a Terrible Comic Day!!

I saw the original post this morning and it made me get out of bed to make something, so thank u Pseudonym Jones mission accomplished

[joy-drops]

[faunandfloraas]

What do you miss about Australia?

[coldasyou]

maybe I am just sentimental and easily impressed but tbh I disagree with the whole “yes local theater is almost always bad but it’s still important” thing bc I think a lot of local and amateur theater is really good actually! like yes I also agree that it’s important to support local arts no matter what the quality so I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad message but I also think if we really want people to go out and support community theater it’s also important to remember that there is a lot of talent outside of broadway or major touring productions so yeah going to see community productions is not something I feel I need to begrudgingly do just out of principle it’s something I genuinely enjoy.  

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Tis but a flesh wound!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[bixels]

Why the hell, shit, you damned bastard son of a bitch

[demaparbat-hp]

Toph as a Goalball player 💪💚

[lurukifennecfox]

The spirit of Amity Park and Lady Gotham

Amity was a strong spirit. stronger than any city her size or age had any right to be, but she was, and she was going to make it matter.

Gotham was old, she was strong but sick and cursed so she couldn't do much but make her shadows that much darker, enough to be unseen, make her sounds that much louder enough to be unheard, guide the debris or a stray bullet a little to the left so that it would only graze not kill. even sick and hurt she was stubborn and she would make it matter.

Amity was younger than Gotham, most were, but Gotham was impressed with her. just like her Protector Amity was way too strong and way too young and very ambitious and protective of Hers.

they had that in common, Gotham was protective, Possesive. Her people were hers and hers only if they weren't Amity's first she couldn't take them, she would.

Amity was like her people, she was adaptive, sceptical but friendly, hard to gain trust from but loyal if you did. Amity was like her Protectors, she was determined and protective, she was fun but serious.

Gotham was like her people, she was a survivor, untrusting and brash, stubborn but flexible. Gotham was like her Bats, she was curious but secretive, protective to the point of possesivnes, calculated but quippy.

Amity was young and her form reflected that, she looked like a pre-teen like most her Protectors, her wheat blonde hair in star clipped twin-tails, a replica of the Ops Centre for a hat, eyes bright green and glowing freckles dusting her cheeks. her clothes were bright like her houses, always having funny accents and accessories and teared holes, her nails were painted but always chipped.

her laughter was loud with explosions and honking of cars and her voice was chipper and cracking.

Gotham was mature and so was her form, her hair black, iridescent and dripping like an oil spill, her face sickly pale(or ashen) and eyes solid yellow with bat shaped pupils (they were blood red before, just like her lips are) she is always dressed in black, blending with her shadows, clothes elegant but ripped and dirty, bloody pearls on her neck, black claws dripping oil like her hair, breath fogging with smog.

her laughter had clanking of weapons and banging of shots, her voice was raspy and strangled.

Amity looked up to Gotham, her determination and stubborn persistence to protect Hers, her funny quips and sarcastic comments.

They weren't too far by city spirit standards, they were on the same continent after all. And Amity could be that much farther, that much closer, just on the other side of the veil. Amity was in the Realms once, she knew the way back.

[mistermordy]

come feel the heat forever and forever ^_^

[voidmenace]

now i dont know about yall, but im staying alive out of spite for the people who want to see me dead, and love for the people who love me in return

[nickloonie]

more inanimate liam content . If you even care

[starry-bi-sky]

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

He's shaking. His heart is burning in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs, and there's a trembling, aching rage building beneath his tongue and pressing against his teeth.

In his hands, his fingers tense and wrists locked, the article reads in big, black font: JOKER LOCKED IN ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN!

Danny shouldn't feel so angry about this, this is a good thing. Gotham doesn't have to deal with him for another few months at the least. He should feel relieved, a little more at peace.

He is not.

He cannot swallow the fury thudding behind his eyes, the burning white heat searing a deeper hole in his chest. A searing green filling static in his ears in the way only the rage of the restless dead can have.

How is he going to kill him now?

Arkham may be the only asylum in America made entirely of tissue paper, but it's still an asylum. There are cameras, guards, other patients resting inside. Danny can think of a million different ways to sneak in and kill Joker, but someone will hear his screaming.

It'd have to be rushed.

He doesn't want it to be rushed.

It's a cruel thought. Cruel and cold and merciless, but Danny doesn't feel an ounce of shame, not an ounce of guilt, for it. He wants to be alone with the Joker when he kills him, that's all he wants. In Arkham, you are never alone.

He forces his anger to bubble back down into his chest, stuffing it between his heartstrings and his ribs like a blanket you're trying to bunch up into a corner. It sizzles and burbles. The static begins to fade out into a high-pitched ringing; it sounds like distant screaming.

Danny is still trembling, but he can think a little clearer now.

He can wait.

He can wait. He can wait. He can wait. He canwait. Hecanwait. Hecanwait.

He can wait.

He's waited five years for this. He can wait one more week. One more month. One more year. However long it takes for the Joker to break back out, Danny can wait.

And when the Joker does, inevitably, break out.

Danny uncrinkles his fingers around the edges of the newspaper, loosens his limbs just enough so he can pay for it.

He'll be waiting.

The dead, after all, have all the time in the world.

[ashes-in-a-jar]

I haven't thought much about Jonathan Sims for long enough that I kinda feel like I've started thinking about him a little more divorced of the emotional attachment I might have had once. Because I just saw a post lamenting his slow descent into inhumanity and losing his identity, becoming the archivist rather than Jonathan Sims, losing his friends, his house, everything he loves.

But is that true? That put upon head archivist persona he had in the beginning, was that really him? The way I see it, real life has already leached him of any identity he might have had, he didn't really have friends, Tim and Sasha clearly weren't, as we saw in their season 5 recording. He chose to make them his subordinates over beib friends, pushed away Georgie, he became so desperate for approval that he agreed to take a job he clearly has no idea how to do, let his stress over it isolate him from everyone around him, had a desperate need to assert himself in the beginning of every recording as 'head archivist of the Magnus institute london'. Forget about even having a home, he often slept in his office for heaven's sake.

The way I see it, this story is about him finding himself, finding the perfect place for himself in this already doomed world that was already strangling him and everyone around him. He became the Archivist, no longer needing to connect himself to some godforsaken capitalistic institute to identify himself. found his role, he enjoyed its power, even admitted to it. He found love. He found purpose in trying to save the world. In the end he was surrounded with the friends he made along the way (as friendly as they could be under the circumstances). He was finally allowed to make real choices, have true responsibility over himself and not be some tired corporate worker, part of a tired pointless system. Sure his choices weren't that great, and getting there was through outside manipulation and his own ignorance and he had to suffer immensely and pay an awful price of what we like to call his "humanity" but he Became and found what we all look for - his calling.

"It's still me" he says in the last episode. Because he is. He lost nothing and gained everything. Even dying in his lover's arms.

Forget about being human. In the end Jon achieves apotheosis and truly becomes Jonathan Sims

[it-came-autumnally]

I really do love how this manga talks about education and the process of learning in such a heartfelt way… it’s so sweet

[arinmoss]

he's got half a head