#only the cold

[spoofyleaf]

The warmest it’s gonna be this week is 55 f, and I for one am not complaining

[g1ngerbeer]

mutual 1: god i sure wish this thing i think about 24/7 was good mutual 2: god i sure wish this thing i think about 24/7 was good mutual 3: god i sure wish this thing i think about 24/7 was good mutual 4: god i sure wish this thing i think about 24/7 was good mutual 5: god i sure wish this thing i think about 24/7 was good mutual 6: god i sure wish this thing i think about 24/7 was good

[madscientistenthusiast]

Personally I think that Azula should have been redeemed simply so that she can become Zuko's horrible little advisor who whispers evil little plans to him so that he can do the exact opposite

[ellilyre]

Do you think that Odysseus has become a kind of running joke among the gods, like when we joke about cockroachs' survivability?

For example some mortal is surviving stuff that rly should've killed him, and someone on Olympus says "is he pulling an Odysseus on us?" and everyone laughs

[jay-wasstuff]

Mike: is struggling financially and mentally

Vanessa: *throws his prescription medicine*

Edit: it's not just about whether Mike needed the drugs (which he didn't, i understand), it's about the fact SHE LITTERED and most likely polluted the river too.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

wintersberg i drew during a stream

[title]

“May I rest my weary head on your shoulder?” (insp.)

In the Mood for Love (2000), Rafiki (2018), Cold War (2018), Your Name Engraved Herein (2020), But I’m a Cheerleader (1999), Moonlight (2016), Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), And Then We Danced (2019), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), My Own Private Idaho (1991), Anatomy of a Fall (2023), Lovesong (2016), God’s Own Country (2017), The Handmaiden (2016), Notorious (1946)

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i love the DLC man

[jakei95]

We came to an agreement.

I am his new bed and he is my personal heater.

Communication is important 👍

[w-e-b-h-e-a-d]

put your head on my shoulder

just two guys being dudes. knocked out and tied up.

sequel

[mythalism]

[tzarrz]

i listen to fog lake too much

[littlefankingdom]

Seeing all those posts and fanfics where the batkids, especially Dick, calls Clark "uncle Clark", made me think.

If Dick calls Clark "uncle Clark", he probably started doing it BEFORE he ever referred to Bruce as his father. After all, another uncle doesn't erase any existing one, but accepting Bruce as his father was erasing John Grayson in Dick's mind, for multiple years. It makes sense for Dick's confused feelings about his situation to call Clark "uncle" before calling Bruce "dad".

So, I present you: Bruce being envious of Clark because Dick refers to him with a family's title but Bruce is just "B".

And in the same continuity: Dick being envious of Jason calling Bruce "dad" so easily.

For Dick, it feels as if the word is stuck in his throat. He can say it to joke around with others ("let's steal dad's car" he tells Jason), but to Bruce's face? He's afraid the world would end.

[basalting]

after jasons death bruce "accidentally" slips harvey a crowbar while hes in arkham and kisses his cheek and says, voice soft and colder than ice, "make him hurt for me honey"

it takes 6 guards to sedate and drag two face off the joker the next time two face sees him and for the rest of their lives as soon as harvey sees the joker he goes after him like a rabid dog.

[pricetagged]

Idk how to label this. Wifehunter John?

The idea of possessive/obsessive John manipulating a situation and stealing a wife for himself struck me, so just coughing the idea up while I sneak away for a coffee before I actually have to start work in 20 mins 💖 entirely unedited, abrupt ending

________

For someone married to his job, he has put quite a bit of thought into what he is looking for in a wife. Namely, that she's already married.

His reasoning is threefold. He can admit to himself, firstly, that it satisfies his need for control. Competency. He's a busy man with a demanding job. Not quite retired yet, no time to build his own from scratch. With this, he gets a wife boxed up and ready-trained. Broken in.

Secondly, the need for control bleeds into his saviour complex. She'll need a shoulder to cry on, someone strong and capable to get her back on her feet. She'll be feeling a little fragile. Needy. Perfect.

And thirdly, it does something wild to his jealous, possessive streak. The idea of taking something precious, of breaking her bond to another man and tying it to him? Delicious. The idea that she used to be someone else's, that he has to imprint himself onto her knowing that in doing so he is erasing the imprint of another man? It has his teeth aching, grinding even as heat rises in his belly. Stirs at him.

The idea swirls lazily in the back of his mind, never quite finding the right time or right partner. He bats at it a few times, lazy cat playing with the notion, seeing how far it can stretch before it snaps. Eyes up pretty things everywhere he goes, glancing down at their left hands just to check, but nothing quite tugs on that string. Until one day it does when he's outfitting the security system at your house.

It's side work. Cash in hand, word of mouth. Something to keep him busy when on mandated leave. Something to keep in mind as his retirement from active duty creeps closer. And your husband is a real piece of work, all blustering braggadocio energy. Young buck, not knowing his place in the herd. Not knowing that he'd be better scratching his antlers off on a tree than going head-to-head with a gristled thing like John.

It's like John's energy, his presence in the house, sends alarm bells ringing in your husband's mind (Be the man. Don't back down. Puff up your chest and strut). And it plays so perfectly into John's hands because your young buck doesn't realise that what he's really doing is fawning. To John. (Look at me, be impressed by me!) He makes his biggest mistake in putting you down in front of him, trying to sidle up to John and create some kind of desperate camaraderie. Ordering you to bring tea to the men at work. Rolling his eyes at your attempts to talk, to ask questions about the work being done. Waving you off so he can stand and watch the proceedings. Like he could supervise. Like he has any clue what he's doing.

Only the promise of the long game keeps John from levelling him with a hard look, from calling him outblike he'd love to.

He hears you both in the in the other room, having swatted the young buck off like a particularly virulent pest. Noisy and bothersome. Not needed - or wanted- in this home. And entirely too stupid to realise that John wasn't being jocular in his dismissal.

You've been scribbling away for the past few days, something occupying your time, keeping you happy and hidden away in the kitchen.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"Well, yes," he hears the slight quaver in your voice before you find your footing. You've got at least a bit of spine. Good. "You said that I should find an occupation. Not just 'laze around the house playing housewife'. This is what I-"

"Oh come on, I didn't mean- You don't think that this is viable, do you?"

"Well... I love gardening. And I'm good at it. And there's no reason that it can't be more accessible for people, especially with the current economic-"

He cuts you off with a scoff. "Dear, just- I don't want you to be disappointed. I think you don't quite understand the time and effort this will take. And you know nothing of marketing, publishing. Why don't you put that away and start on dinner?"

And oh, isn't that delicious. He can taste it now, that idea that has been swirling. It's thick, almost tangible on his tongue. The tension in the house, the bitter lacryma of stifled tears. The slight acidity of words you left unsaid. It has his mouth watering, pupils dilating.

And when he's packing up that evening, tools and materials tucked in to the heavy workman's case, he swings by the kitchen on his way out. Catches the way something is jutting out slightly from the bin, lid slightly askew. When he pulls it out he realises it's some kind of notebook, carefully (lovingly) bound. Pictures pasted, mindmaps and notes and plans scribbled in the margins. Your gardening tips. Kitchen scraps, window boxes, rooftop plots. Urban gardening. It's deeply thoughtful, well researched.

A labour of love, lying in the rubbish.

Sweet, clever little thing. That just won't do.

He leaves your house with a little piece of you tucked away in his toolkit and a nice plan forming. He'll be back, of course, not quite finished with his work. He'd planted a few little links into the system he'd almost installed, projecting not just to the monitor in your home but also in his. Got to keep his eyes on you, keep you safe and cared for in ways that your useless husband can't.

Finding that book was a boon. He'd say it was divinely ordained if he believed in all that. It weighs heavy in his toolbox as he whistles out the door.

Now, how to get you alone and return it to you..

________________

This idea may have been done before? I'm not sure, sorry! I've seen a lot of possessive John floating around. Tagging @stellewriites because I said I would last time, and you've been so encouraging of my nonsense.

Anyway I've got like 4 long-form WIPs that I'm working on, so I may never actually write this one but thought I'd share since that image set I just reblogged made me feral 💖

[spencestiel-michelle]

*Spencer Reid lingers in the doorway*

Y/n: what’s the matter? you look like you’re struggling there, sailor. 

Reid, conflicted: i really want to kiss you goodbye but the cold you have is highly contagious and i would only be increasing my chances of contracting it and spreading it by initiating skin to skin contact. 

Y/n: you would also be kissing me goodbye- but you’re right, i get it, i’m too germ-ridden for my boyfriend to give me a quick forehead kiss goodbye, i’ll just have to wave from over he- 

*Spencer quickly kisses Y/n on the forehead and rapidly backs up and out of the door* 

*Spencer blushes and and terribly fights back a smile as he blatantly gushes over Y/n*

Y/n: was that so hard? 

Reid, bashfully: i will see you tomorrow. 

*Reid leaves*

Y/n, dreamily: i’m so gonna marry that man.